Disclaimer: Voyager and its characters are property of Paramount. I don’t own ‘em, and I don’t want to. I just wanna have a little fun with ‘em. Except Kieran Thompson and Rachel McVicker—them, I own. If Paramount wants to borrow them, I’d return the favor.

Synopsis: Fifth in the Naomi series. When Kathryn and Seven behave like children, Naomi Wildman runs away. Kieran and B'Elanna tie the knot. Everybody in the Delta Quadrant gets pregnant and bitchy.

WARNING: There are *gasp* LESBIANS in this story. If that bothers you, then don’t read it. Rated R for suggestive situations and wanton women. There are also *gasp* heterosexuals in this story. If that bothers you, then don’t read it. They don’t do anything sexual, though, cuz it’s my story, and I hafta watch them do stuff day in and day out on TV.

Background: I ran away when I was 16. Stole the family car and took my 14 year old girlfriend and drove to Florida from Indiana. It was a harrowing experience, to say the least, but it also made me feel like I could survive about anything. After 20 some days, we went home, finished high school, and had really dull, Midwestern lives. ‘Til I went to college…but that’s another story…A special thanks and an apology to my readers who may have tried to contact me anytime since August of 2000. I did not have access to my old email account, and didn’t get any emails after August, so if you wrote to me during the last six months, I didn’t get the note. Otherwise, I try to answer any emails I get, and appreciate hearing from you. My current email addresses are: [email protected]

 

Runaway Naomi

By Ensign Mika

 

Naomi Wildman stared dejectedly out the view port of the messhall, not noticing that her ice cream sundae was melting into a brown, shapeless puddle of goo. She sighed loudly, feeling lonely and grumpy and sad. For several months, she had had playmates, and now she did not.

When Voyager had encountered a collective of Borg children and ultimately adopted them, Naomi had initially been jealous of the time Seven of Nine spent with Icheb, Mezoti, Rebi and Azan. Seven, to her credit, had tried to include Naomi whenever Seven spent time with the Borg children, but to Naomi, it seemed she had been replaced, not once, but several times over. Eventually, Mezoti, the only girl among the four orphaned children, had become Naomi’s best friend. And now, Mezoti was gone.

The twins, Rebi and Azan, had returned to their family, and Mezoti had been adopted into their family as well. Only Icheb remained aboard Voyager, and he had scornfully informed Naomi on more than one occasion that he was an adult, and had no interest in "playing with children". Naomi had strictly avoided him ever since then, thinking him cold and aloof, much as many crewmembers had once thought Seven of Nine was cold and aloof. Only Seven had done many things to dispel that impression, and Naomi had not only grown to be close friends with the former Borg drone, she had become Seven’s daughter.

Not only was Naomi Seven’s daughter, she was also the daughter of Seven’s spouse, the Captain of Voyager, Kathryn Janeway. Naomi loved both women dearly, but neither of them could console her over the loss of her peers. Naomi had been born aboard Voyager, and in the seven years the ship had trekked across the Delta Quadrant, she had been the only child on board, until the Borg children came. And now, she was once again the only child.

Mr. Neelix, the ship’s morale officer and chief cook and bottle washer, watched his young friend from across the room, shaking his head. He knew what was wrong with Naomi. He just didn’t know how to help her feel any better. He, too, had become fond of the Borg children, and felt a definite void in their absence. He wiped his hands on his chaotically colorful apron, ran his stubby, mottled fingers through his wild shock of hair, and approached the little girl who wore a long, forlorn face.

"Sweeting," he began, using a term of endearment he rarely spoke these days, "are you alright?" He lay a gentle hand on the slender K’Tarian-human hybrid child’s shoulder.

Naomi did not avert her eyes from the starfield streaming by. "I’m okay, Neelix," she said quietly. "I just miss Mezoti."

The Talaxian cook smiled sadly. "I know. I miss her too. But Naomi, as much as we all miss her, and Rebi and Azan, they are home now. Home. With their family. They are happy and safe. And we have to be happy for them, too," he added kindly.

Naomi glanced dully across the table at the man who her mother had designated as Naomi’s Godfather. "I am happy for them. But I still miss them," she didn’t even try to repress the tears that welled in her eyes.

"Hey, now," he tried to sound cheerful, "pretty soon, this ship is going to be knee-deep in babies, and you’ll have more playmates than I have Talaxian spots," he patted her arm.

Naomi forced a grin. "Yeah. Babies will be great," she sounded less than enthusiastic. "But Kathryn and Seven will be really busy once the new Hansen-Janeway arrives. Seven hardly had time for me at all when the Borg kids came to Voyager. She’ll be even busier once she has her own flesh and blood baby to take care of."

"Ah," Neelix finally understood. "You think you’re going to be forgotten."

"Well," Naomi tried to reason with her own insecurity, "not exactly forgotten," she began. "I mean, that is pretty unlikely."

"But you won’t be their only child," Neelix pointed out her worst fear. "You think you’ll have competition."

Naomi bristled. "No. Competition isn’t the right word. Seven and Kathryn would never make me compete for their love. They aren’t that petty."

"Then what are you worried about? Haven’t they always been fair with you? Haven’t they always gone out of their way to make sure you have what you need and that you’re happy?"

Naomi considered carefully. "Yes, always. Sometimes they neglect each other, thinking that I need them more than they need each other," she agreed. She relaxed a little as she turned it over in her mind. "I guess a baby won’t necessarily change that."

"Of course not. Naomi, you told me once that you believe Seven and Kathryn learned to love each other because they allowed themselves first to love you. Do you remember that?" the Talaxian’s voice became even softer, his eyes twinkling with affection for his friend.

"Love multiplies. Yes, I remember."

"It will multiply more when the baby comes. Trust me," he smiled lovingly at the youngster.

Feeling much less worried, Naomi smiled faintly. "I hope so, Neelix."

_________________

Captain Kathryn Janeway of the U.S.S. Voyager scanned the PADD before her, smiling with genuine admiration for her crew, or more specifically, for the crew members who comprised the committee heading up Operation Offspring, the initiative to allow reproduction to resume in the Delta Quadrant. Having been stranded for several years with extremely limited resources, a ban had been placed on having children, because Voyager simply had no room to accommodate more passengers, and no energy to spare for feeding and clothing additional crew.

The committee had submitted this final proposal, which required Janeway and her first Officer, Commander Chakotay, to approve the provisions of the plan before the first inseminations could begin. Approval was a mere formality, since Janeway and Chakotay had already made their revisions to the plan and the current submission was the version they had helped draft. Besides, the baby lottery had already been held, and they could hardly disappoint the crew by quashing the plan now. Janeway merely wanted to be certain that all of the T’s were crossed and the I’s dotted, so that Starfleet would find no reason to criticize the decision or the method of implementation.

True to form, Counselor Kieran Thompson had meticulously formatted the document so that Janeway and Chakotay’s edits displayed in red, contrasting with the green text of the document itself. Janeway stopped her review long enough to contemplate her closest friend, the tall, lanky, good humored Lieutenant, whom she had appointed ship’s Counselor. The two women were a study in complete physical opposites, Janeway being short and compact, with auburn hair and blue grey eyes that were sharp as a laser. Kieran, in addition to arms and legs that seemed to go on forever, had light brown hair that she wore long and braided, and brown eyes that showed a heartfelt sensitivity to the feelings of her comrades and familiars. Their personalities were equally dissimilar, with Janeway being the typical driven type A perfectionist, and Thompson being much more laid back and easy going, though not one whit less demanding of herself. Oddly, the two women were the best of friends, and Janeway often wished she could appoint Kieran as First Officer, simply because they tended to work together so splendidly.

Janeway bit her lip, thinking of her current First Officer, a huge bear of a man with a winning smile and handsomely rugged features. She loved Chakotay dearly, but there had been times when his confrontational style had undermined her command, and those instances, though rare, were hard to forgive. Her burden of command had been excessive, being thousands of light years from the guiding hand of Starfleet and from home, with no apparent means of returning to the Alpha Quadrant. Chakotay should have endeavored to lighten that burden, rather than increasing it at the most inopportune times.

Kieran had a much keener sense about such things, knowing exactly when to support, and precisely how and when to question her Commanding Officer, always with tact and aplomb, and with a unique ability to cajole the sometimes stubborn Captain into seeing things reasonably. Janeway respected Kieran for that smooth diplomacy, and wished Chakotay could learn it from the Counselor. Janeway sighed, chin in her hand. Well, he wouldn’t be Chakotay if he acted any other way, I suppose, she allowed. And Kieran doesn’t have the benefit of command training or the command experience Chakotay possesses. Still, if we were in the Alpha Quadrant, I’d make damn sure Kieran got a shot at command. She’d be an outstanding First Officer. I should tell her so. God knows I lean on her enough, and rarely tell her how much I appreciate it. This whole committee of hers should receive commendations for their work on this. They have certainly put in the time and effort and made a substantial contribution to ship’s morale.

Janeway set about the task of awarding commendations, much as she despised "paperwork". Just as she was finishing up the long list of personnel files, her ready room door chime sounded.

"Come!" she responded to the chirping tone.

Seven of Nine, former Borg drone and Janeway’s spouse, entered the room with a soft, faint smile. "Kathryn," she greeted the seated Captain with a kiss on the cheek. "I know I am early, but I could hardly contain my excitement."

Janeway gazed benignly at her wife, not entirely certain what she was talking about, and slightly chagrined at her ignorance.

Seven frowned. "You don’t remember," she stated flatly, her displeasure evident in her pale blue eyes. "Unacceptable."

Just then, the door chime sounded again, and Naomi Wildman burst through the door, hazel eyes blazing with eager anticipation. "Are you ready K-Mom?" she asked enthusiastically. The couple had adopted Naomi, who had taken to referring to her mothers as K-Mom for Kathryn, and Borg Mom for Seven, simply to avoid confusion. Naomi stopped in her tracks, seeing the dissatisfaction on Seven’s face. "Don’t tell me you forgot!" Naomi wailed. "Kahless and all the Prophets, Mom," she scolded, "How could you?"

Just then it dawned on Kathryn. She was scheduled for her pre-insemination physical, and she had forgotten it entirely. She set her jaw defensively. "Ladies, you seem to have forgotten, I am the Captain of this ship, and a routine Doctor’s appointment is not my first priority. In fact, I was just going over the committee’s final proposal, which is immeasurably more crucial to this entire pregnancy than a minor check up."

Naomi rolled her eyes. "Aren’t you even excited, K-Mom? I could hardly sleep last night!"

Kathryn relented slightly, holding out her arms. "Come here, you," she ordered her Bridge Assistant, who was the youngest officer in Starfleet history. Naomi dashed over for a hug. "Of course I’m excited," she kissed Naomi’s hair fondly, and held out a hand to Seven of Nine, meeting her eyes apologetically. "This is almost as important as the day you came to live with us, Naomi, or the day Seven and I got married. I’m sorry I got distracted by ship’s business. It’s the nature of the job," she said pointedly for Seven’s benefit.

Seven felt her irritation melting away as Kathryn’s imploring expression worked its magic. "Well then," she finally said with a faint curl to her lips, "Let’s not keep the Doctor waiting. You know how he gets," she added, just as the other two women chimed in with the same observation. As they each said "You know how he gets" in unison, they burst into laughter. The Doctor’s frequent offense at all things had become quite the joke among the crew, though the holographic physician had no clue that he was the butt of such merriment.

Kathryn stood to go, taking Naomi’s hand, still holding Seven’s. "Let me just put my thumbprint on this document," she said to no one in particular, affixing her signature to it and reclaiming Seven’s hand. "Let’s go."

She led the two members of her family out of her ready room and down the corridor, still hand in hand. The sight of the tight knit family caused passing crew to smile warmly, and not a few felt a slight tightness in their throats. The love among the three women was palpable, and the temperance that the family bond had brought to Janeway’s command was appreciated by all who knew the headstrong Captain.

Her crew was constantly amazed at the changes in all three women as a result of their family ties to one another. Seven had become much more sociable, more approachable, and much less harshly critical of her crewmates. Parenting a bright, sensitive child had given Seven a broader context for understanding how her acid observations and disapproval could create shame and humiliation in her coworkers, and she had become much more conscious of toning down her scathing input.

Naomi had transcended the loss of her mother, Samantha Wildman, and was flourishing despite the tragic circumstances surrounding Samantha’s death. She had also recovered substantially from a recent kidnapping incident, thanks to Seven’s heroics and the adept counseling she had received from Kieran Thompson, the ship’s counselor. Living with two of the smartest women in the known quadrants fueled Naomi’s acute curiosity, and her own intellect was amassing with considerable speed. Moreover, the youngster felt the sure and abiding love of her mothers as well as most of the crew. The stability the Captain and Seven had provided Naomi so long ago had given the child a rich environment in which to grow.

For her part, Janeway had become more grounded and less rash. She found Seven to be wise and thorough in her counsel, and often consulted her spouse in matters that proved sticky or challenging for her command. Naomi astounded the Captain with her sharp need to learn and to understand all things, and Janeway found it intellectually stimulating to try to satisfy Naomi’s frequent inquiries. Gone were the sullen fits, gone was the depression and solitude of command, both replaced by a deep sense of contentment, and it showed in every way.

The holographic Doctor poked and prodded the Captain, pronounced her physically sound and capable of carrying a child.

"Yes, you’re fit as a fiddle," he informed the middle aged Janeway. "When would you like to schedule the insemination?"

Seven of Nine piped up. "As soon as possible."

Janeway quirked an eyebrow. "Excuse me, but this is my body we’re talking about, Seven."

Naomi looked hopefully up at the auburn haired Commanding Officer. "When, then, K-Mom?"

Kathryn smiled indulgently at her adopted daughter. "When is your first available appointment, Doctor?"

_______________

B'Elanna Torres grunted and pulled herself up from the floor-level panel by gripping the edge of the console where she worked. "That’s all there is to it, Naomi," she concluded the young girl’s lesson in plasma relay maintenance. "Any questions?"

"Nope," the ebullient seven-year-old chirped. "Wanna quiz me?"

B'Elanna grabbed her abdomen and groaned faintly. "Not today, Naomi. But I’d appreciate it if you would walk me down to sickbay."

Naomi immediately went into caretaker mode. "What’s wrong, B'Elanna? You aren’t far enough along to be having false labor, and your last check up was perfect," Naomi pointed out, having kept herself abreast of all the pregnancies aboard Voyager.

"Yeah, well tell this kid that," she had broken into a sweat. "Can we go? I think I’m going to vomit unless I can get to the Doc soon."

Naomi took the Klingon-Human hybrid’s arm and assisted her down to the turbolift. "Kieran is going to have a fit if you don’t hail her, 'Lanna," Naomi warned her mentor.

B'Elanna sidestepped the issue by commenting "God, Naomi, you’ve grown so tall. Another couple of years and you’ll pass me up entirely."

Naomi wasn’t distracted, as B'Elanna had hoped. She slapped her comm badge. "Wildman to Counselor Thompson."

"Go ahead," Kieran’s cheery voice replied.

"Kieran, B'Elanna is not feeling well. I’m taking her to sickbay. Can you meet us there?"

"Stand by." Kieran was no doubt ending a session with a client as abruptly as possible. "I’m on my way," she came back on the comm channel after a brief absence.

When Kieran Thompson met her fiancée in sickbay, she knew instantly from B'Elanna’s face that the Klingon’s physiology was trying to reject their baby. The Doctor was hurriedly administering inhibiting agents to stop the spontaneous abortion. The fetal monitor readings normalized after several minutes, and Kieran was sure she saw the Doctor sigh in relief.

"Much better," he commented as he examined the readings. "Your body apparently does not want to stay pregnant, Lieutenant," he explained. "You’re going to have to see me daily for medication, or you are going to lose your little girl."

B'Elanna’s face was horror stricken. "I can’t lose this baby, Doctor."

The Doctor put on his best beside manner. "No, Lieutenant, you won’t," he patted her hand.

Kieran slipped her arms around B'Elanna from behind. "I think you’re faking to get me to postpone the wedding again," she teased her betrothed.

B'Elanna snorted. "I’ve been trying to get you to the altar ever since we found out we’d won the baby lottery. I’m not letting you weasel out of this now, Thompson. And this baby is not going to be born outside of wedlock."

Kieran kissed B'Elanna’s cheek. "No," she whispered, "she won’t. Two more months, and we’ll be legal. And she’s going to make it, BangwIj. The Captain will not permit us to lose her namesake," she added playfully.

Naomi’s ears perked right up. "You’re naming your baby after K-Mom?"

B'Elanna smiled at Kieran. "You have a big mouth, Thompson," she jabbed her lover with a bony finger. "Naomi, you can’t say anything. It’s supposed to be a surprise."

Naomi frowned, obviously disappointed. "What’s her middle name going to be—maybe Naomi?"

"Sorry kiddo," Kieran tousled the strawberry blonde tresses of the Captain’s Bridge Assistant. "Her middle name is going to be Ada, after my Grandmother."

Naomi smiled. "You know, not one pregnant woman on this ship wants to name their kid Naomi. I’m beginning to feel insulted," she sniffed. "So whose last name does she get?"

"It’ll be Thompson-Torres, the same as our name will be," B'Elanna explained.

Naomi tilted her head with a quizzical expression. "How come Kieran’s last name gets top billing?"

"Same reason Seven’s did with Captain Janeway’s—alphabetical order."

"Oh. Well, there aren’t many letters after ‘W’, so I’ll probably get second billing with my partner someday. If I ever have a partner," she added wistfully, stealing a glance at Kieran. Try as she might, the youngster couldn’t quite get over her infatuation with the lanky, good-natured counselor.

B'Elanna did not miss the obvious longing in Naomi’s eyes. "It’ll happen for you, sweetie. Trust me," she tried to sound confident.

"Won’t that be awkward, having two people in your life you call ‘Kathryn’?" Naomi asked, leaning her head over B'Elanna’s stomach as if the baby might speak any moment.

"We’ll call our Kathryn by another name—Katie, for short," Kieran explained. "Kathryn is too formal for an infant, anyway." Then pressing her head against B'Elanna’s tummy also, she asked "Have Kathryn and Seven decided on a name yet?"

Naomi giggled. "Seven and I want to name the baby ‘One of One, Primary Adjunct to Mothermatrix Zero-Two’, but K-Mom wants to name her Gretchen. Pretty boring if you ask me."

Kieran let out a peal of laughter. "Why Zero-Two?"

Naomi looked at her as if she’d just asked a dumb and rather obvious question. "Two mothers."

"Oh, of course," Kieran rolled her eyes. "Are you feeling better, ‘Lanna?"

"Much," B'Elanna snuggled against Kieran’s chest.

The Doctor checked the Lieutenant over yet again. "You’re doing better, Lieutenant. However, I’d like you to get some rest. At least a couple of days. Understood?"

"Understood," Kieran answered for her lover, before the pregnant woman could argue. "I want you in perfect health by the wedding. You’re not leaving me waiting at the altar."

Naomi grinned. "If she does, I’ll step up to the plate, Kieran," she flirted.

B'Elanna growled. "Don’t make me get my pain stick, Wildwoman," she threatened with a show of menacing teeth.

Naomi squealed and danced away backwards as B'Elanna made a mock lunge for her. "I’m just saying, if you don’t have the good sense to show up and marry her, well, all bets are off," Naomi continued to taunt the chuckling Klingon.

Kieran was laughing too. "So many women, so little of me to go around," she sniffed, pretending to smooth her hair seductively.

B'Elanna got off the biobed and hugged her fiancée. "There better not be any of you going around, Counselor," she whispered. Then touching the scar at Kieran’s throat through her uniform, a ritual mating mark that signified ownership of the bearer, B'Elanna whispered "I have claimed you, and you are mine."

"I am yours," Kieran agreed, breaking the hug and drawing B'Elanna’s arm through her own. "Let me show you how much I am yours, BangwIj," she flirted. "Join me in a little afternoon tryst?"

Naomi cleared her throat to indicate she was getting an earful. "I think I’ll just excuse myself," she said brightly. "You guys have a great rest of the day." Blushing, the Captain’s Bridge Assistant beat a hasty retreat out of sickbay.

Just then the Doctor stepped in again. "This is a medical ward, not a drive-in movie theatre," he scolded. "Take this little romantic interlude to your quarters. Honestly, you two. Can’t it wait ‘til the honeymoon?" The Doctor flaired his holographic nostrils, teasing the two lovers.

Kieran didn’t even look at him, keeping her brown eyes trained on her beloved’s face. "Doc, is there anything B'Elanna and I need to know, or avoid, to keep the baby safe?" Then realizing he wouldn’t reply to such a vague inquiry, she added "Sexually, I mean."

The EMH rolled his eyes. "I know what you meant, Counselor," he said sardonically. "I don’t think at this early stage you have anything to be worried about. As long as you don’t do anything too vigorous, and as long as B'Elanna takes the injections I’m preparing to help her get through the first trimester, the baby should be fine. Don’t go riding in any rodeos, though."

B'Elanna smirked. "I see your interest in the American Southwest is still rampant, Doctor."

"A fascinating cultural environment," he began. "The rodeo is just one more incomprehensible means humans have of getting themselves maimed, mutilated, or killed," he reported imperiously.

"I’m sure," Kieran agreed with total disinterest. "We’ll see you in the morning, Doctor."

"Hmmmph," the Doctor huffed, taking offense at being brushed off. "You wait until she’s so pregnant she can barely waddle along, and suddenly, I’ll be terrific company," he claimed as the two women scurried from sickbay.

_________________

Kathryn Janeway looked at herself sidelong in the mirror. She could just barely see the telltale signs of the early portion of her pregnancy, a very slight protrusion of her abdomen. She could no longer contract her muscles to hide the bulge, try as she might.

Seven of Nine lay naked in bed, awaiting the end of her lover’s self-inspection, and smiling appreciatively at her equally naked spouse. "Kathryn," she intoned reproachfully, "you are pregnant. You can see it now, and you must accept it. Now come to bed. You will need your sleep if you are to sustain this pregnancy to term."

Kathryn turned her head, short auburn hair swaying softly with the motion, grinning wickedly. "Darling, the problem is, when I’m in bed with you, the last thing I want to do is sleep. Especially with all these gestational hormones screaming in my veins."

Seven slid out of bed and closed the distance between them in two quick steps, wrapping her arms around her diminutive lover. "I can be of invaluable assistance in quieting your screaming hormones, my love," she promised, kissing Kathryn hopefully, exploring the soft contours of her mouth with a questioning tongue.

"Mmmm," Kathryn murmured, "you’ll only make other parts of me scream, Annika." She reached behind the statuesque blonde’s neck, releasing her hair from its tightly compiled bun, letting the silky mass fall around her alabaster shoulders and lovely face.

Seven smiled against Kathryn’s leonine neck, kissing soft trails along it’s elegant length. "What part am I making scream this second, Kathryn?"

Kathryn’s knees threatened to give, but Seven supported her negligible weight in strong arms. "Too many parts to name," she breathed in abruptly as Seven nipped her ear. "Pretty soon, I’m going to be too big to even think about doing what you’re thinking about," Kathryn rasped.

"Not true," Seven whispered next to her ear as she eased her away from the mirror and toward the bed. "I have discussed it at length with the Doctor. I have learned all sorts of ways to pleasure you without causing you discomfort and without harming our child."

Kathryn surrendered her breasts to Seven’s hands. "I am eternally grateful for your thorough abilities as a researcher, and as a lover," she chuckled, allowing Seven to lower her to their bed, groaning as Seven suckled a taut nipple.

Seven grasped Kathryn’s buttocks with her large, powerful hands, kneading the soft swells of flesh and continuing to suckle at her breasts. She felt herself move beyond playful jibes and toward serious love making, the moisture gathering in the soft curls at the apex of her thighs. She groaned deep in her throat as her fingers found Kathryn’s wetness, stroking hotly at the source, and rolling Kathryn on top of her, her fingers entered liquid fire.

"Seven," Kathryn gasped into her spouse’s mouth, "oh, god, Seven…"

"I am right here, my love," Seven whispered in reply, " Tell me what you want."

Kathryn whimpered pitifully, unable to articulate the need awakened in her. "Please," was all she managed to ask.

Seven knew her lover well enough to understand the simplistic plea, and reaching down the length of Kathryn’s back, she eased her hand between the woman’s soft buttocks, finding a dimpled opening. Her other hand, firmly between their bodies, moved in gentle, caressing strokes, her fingers bathed in slick desire and pleasuring Kathryn’s firm ridge. Kathryn rocked softly against Seven’s fingers, matching the tempo of Seven’s lovemaking, and crying out as a long, questing finger penetrated her from above her buttocks, the tight, puckered opening barely allowing Seven to enter there.

Seven smiled into their kiss, pleased to be able to alleviate her lover’s hormone induced desperation. Seven mentally noted that pregnancy might prove to be inspirational. She pushed deeper into Kathryn’s anus, then eased her other hand further down to enter Kathryn’s wet warmth, her thumb sliding provocatively over Kathryn’s distended clitoris. Filling Kathryn this way was one of Seven’s greatest joys, and it never failed to drive the sedate, controlled Captain into a wild frenzy. Seven loved making Kathryn relinquish control of her cool exterior, reveled in hearing her sweetly anguished vocalizations, prided herself on reducing the stoic, disciplined Captain to nothing more than a woman in the throes of passion.

Seven nuzzled her beloved’s ear, whispering "Come for me Kathryn. Let it happen."

And as if on demand, Kathryn exploded into hard spasms, her body rigid and suspended on outstretched arms above Seven of Nine, head hanging down as her body trembled with pleasure.

"Oh god, Seven, oh god…" she gasped, collapsing atop her lover with a final shudder.

Seven chuckled deep in her chest, stroked Kathryn’s hair protectively, and eased her through the torrent of sensation. "I love you, Kathryn, always," she murmured, enfolding her lover in powerful arms that sported Borg technology in various places.

Kathryn’s muffled response came out in jagged breaths. "I—love—you—too," she panted against Seven’s shoulder.

"I’ve got you," Seven informed her softly. "Relax. Rest, my love."

_______________

Naomi Wildman slipped through the doors of the quarters she shared with her two surrogate mothers, humming a tune she’d heard Seven singing in the shower. She replicated milk and cookies, collected a PADD, and sat down at the kitchen table.

Captain Kathryn Janeway arrived home shortly thereafter. "Hi sweetie," she greeted her daughter. "How was your day?"

Naomi stretched in her seat so that Kathryn could kiss her cheek. "Hi K-Mom. I had a good day. I realigned a plasma relay for B'Elanna."

Kathryn sat down with the youngster, sneaked a cookie off her plate, and dunked it in Naomi’s milk. "You are becoming our own junior engineer, my love. B'Elanna praises you effusively, you know." Kathryn smiled approvingly at the beaming girl.

Naomi blushed slightly. "I’m glad. I love working with her. She just knows so much, I’m always learning something new and interesting."

"What about your studies with the Doctor?" Kathryn dunked her cookie again. "Aren’t those fun too?"

"Well," Naomi hedged, "I really don’t get too excited by physiology and biology, Mom. Too many unknown factors, too many variables. With an engine, you’re limited to physics and the laws thereof. Much simpler. It’s clean, neat, and precise, like math. Medicine is more like…like English grammar. All sorts of inconvenient exceptions, irregular this and that. Messy. Arbitrary. Not my idea of a good time," Naomi explained. She sighed. "I wish I could just concentrate on my studies with B'Elanna."

Kathryn lightly hugged her adopted child. "And so you shall, then, sweetie. Borg-Mom and I were just waiting for you to express a desire to specialize in an area. Of course, broad based education is still part of the plan, but we can certainly accommodate your desire to focus on the mechanical sciences. You’ve done so well in fluid mechanics and temporal physics, and you’re a better mathematician than I’ve ever been. Seven still has the edge on you there, though."

Naomi snorted derisively. "She’s Borg, K-Mom. I’m not ever going to better than her, not at anything. She is almost perfect, just like the collective strives to be."

Kathryn took Naomi’s last cookie. "You’re wrong there, Naomi. Your social skills and diplomatic abilities are well beyond Seven’s, and she’d be the first to tell you so." Kathryn grinned playfully. "And you’re so much more willing to share your cookies than she ever is. She can be downright selfish," Kathryn accused her absent spouse.

Seven suddenly appeared, towering over the two women. "I am selfish, now, Kathryn? Who gave you the rest of her dessert last night at dinner? And who replicates coffee ice cream for you everytime the baby gives you a craving? When was the last time I got to eat an entire meal without you stealing over 25% of it?" Seven’s gorgeous baby blue eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Seven!" Kathryn was startled. "I didn’t hear you come in."

"I can see that. No doubt a side effect of your crunching on these disgusting little—what do you call them? Sandwich creams?" Seven pretended to forget, though she had eidetic memory.

Naomi giggled. "I think you better apologize, K-Mom. You’ve insulted her. She might have to

assimilate you."

"Indeed, I may," Seven agreed, stooping her six foot frame low to kiss Naomi’s head, and then stooping lower to kiss Kathryn gently on the lips. "How is our little mother today?" she whispered against her wife’s mouth. "Mmmmm, chocolate."

Kathryn patted her bulging stomach. "Gretchen is doing fine. The Doctor wants us to come by later this week so we can see her on sonic video. She’s healthy and strong, Seven. And she’s going to look just like you—tall, blonde, and stunningly beautiful."

Seven smirked. "You got all that from a visit with the Doctor?" she asked, disbelieving.

"I did," Kathryn insisted stubbornly.

"I shall ask him myself if our little One of One is, as you say, my mirror image," Seven retorted, waiting for Janeway to protest. She didn’t wait long.

"We are not naming our child One of One, Annika. And we are not calling her that, even as a nickname," Kathryn’s tone was matter-of-fact.

Seven winked at Naomi, knowing how the girl enjoyed these bantering sessions with the two adults, and adoring the way Kathryn could be so easily provoked. "Actually, my darling," Seven intoned coolly, "I have been thinking. Since we already have Naomi, and since I will eventually carry another child for us, perhaps this offspring should be designated Two of Three."

Kathryn gave Seven her best SRGB look. "Humans name their children. We do not designate them." Kathryn crossed her arms defiantly, knowing Seven was playing with her for Naomi’s amusement.

Naomi chimed in "Besides, Seven, what if you end up having five or six kids? Then you’d have to change Two of Three’s name to Two of Five or Two of Six." Naomi grinned conspiratorially at Seven.

"Borg drones often must change their designations to accommodate changes in the collective hive structure," Seven lectured, ignoring Janeway’s obvious chagrin. "Two would easily adapt. After all, she is from my egg, and will no doubt have many of my adaptive traits. Yes, Two will be a remarkably adaptive child."

Janeway smiled adoringly at her spouse. "Gretchen will be adaptable. She will have to be on this ship."

Naomi laughed. "Who is Gretchen?"

Seven joined in. "Yes, Kathryn. Isn’t Gretchen your mother?"

"Smartasses," Kathryn hurled the insult at them.

_____________

The Doctor bent over Kathryn’s belly, feeling around the bulge that had begun to strain against her uniform. "How is our little Two of Three doing, today?" he asked pleasantly.

Kathryn’s eyebrows nearly crawled off her face. "Goddamn it, the baby’s name is Gretchen!" she half shouted at the hologram.

"Yes, well I see that you’re feeling much less agitated as a result of the vitamins and herbal supplements I prescribed," he noted with an edge of sarcasm, scanning the Captain with a medical tricorder.

"She is positively irrational, Doctor," Seven of Nine pointed out helpfully. "One minute she is livid and shouting, and the next she is sobbing in my arms," the former drone distractedly ran a hand over her frazzled looking hair.

Concerned at Seven’s disheveled appearance, the Doctor turned his medical tricorder to the Borg. "You don’t look well at all, Seven," he noted, "though your scan is essentially normal. You need some rest," he added protectively. Despite the fact that Seven was married to the Captain, the Doctor had continued to be enamored with the Borg.

"Hello!" Kathryn planted her hands on her hips as she sat on the biobed. "Pregnant woman, here!"

The Doctor smirked at the Captain. "Yes, we can all see that," he noted dryly. "You should think about replicating some less confining uniforms, Captain. These are not conducive to the comfort of your child, and I would think they are even less comfortable for you."

Janeway’s face clouded up and she burst into tears. She leaned her head against Seven, wailing "I’m fat!! He called me fat!!"

Seven patted her wife’s shoulder consolingly, but turned imploring eyes upon the EMH, as if to say "See what I mean?"

The Doctor nodded knowingly at Seven. He busied himself preparing a hypospray, which he pressed to the Captain’s throat, and watched as she miraculously calmed down and her sobs subsided to injured sniffles. "Better?" he asked solicitously.

Janeway glowered at him, but nodded. "Yes."

"I want you to administer this twice a day, Seven, morning and evening. It should even her out a bit, and keep her calm enough to retain her command. If she gets erratic again, stop by and we’ll adjust the dosage."

"Understood," Seven agreed with a grateful squeeze of the EMH’s arm. "Thank you, Doctor."

He glanced warily at the Captain, whose emotions had become a carefully guarded secret among the senior staff, lest the lower ranks lose faith in their CO. "My pleasure, Seven." He leaned back down and spoke to Janeway’s belly. "Goodbye, Gretchen," he made a point of using the name Janeway preferred. "Captain, I need to see you again next week, same time."

Janeway resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him, or better yet, to let him contemplate the meaning of a certain finger she felt like showing him. "Yes, Doctor," she replied with barely veiled contempt.

"Ah, another pregnant mother," the Doctor noted as B'Elanna and Kieran entered sickbay. He turned to Kieran. "Will I need a suit of armor? Is she bearing Klingon pain sticks?"

Kieran let out a peal of laughter. "Not this week," she admitted, arm firmly around her betrothed. "That supplement you gave her really calmed her down."

"Hey, I’m Klingon. What do you expect, that I’d be docile while my abdomen goes supernova?" B'Elanna crossed her arms in a huff.

Kathryn grinned. "Give him hell, B'Elanna," she encouraged the expectant mother.

Kieran scowled. "He isn’t the one who has to deal with her," she noted. "When the going gets tough, he deactivates himself. I’m the one replicating Gagh at three in the morning and hiding the bat’leth when she has a tantrum," Kieran complained.

Seven put an arm around the Counselor’s shoulders. "This too shall pass," Seven intoned philosophically.

Kieran grinned. "Yeah, like a bad case of gas. Slowly, foully, and painfully."

B'Elanna nudged Kathryn. "Totally unsympathetic," she accused the two women.

Kathryn put a hand in the small of B'Elanna’s back. "Criminally insensitive," she agreed. "Thank God I have Naomi. At least she empathizes with her poor old mother," Kathryn needled Seven. "But your time is coming Borg. You just wait ‘til it’s you throwing up all morning and waddling like a hippo, not to mention getting depressed and crying all the time. I will remind you then, my darling, just how warm and sensitive you were when I was carrying our child," Kathryn lectured her elegantly beautiful lover.

Seven kissed Kathryn’s temple. "And I will certainly gain a greater appreciation for your suffering, my love," Seven knew better than to argue with her spouse.

The response pleased Kathryn enormously, and as a warm smile lit up her eyes, she hugged Seven. "I need lunch," she announced, although she had just eaten two hours before.

Kieran hid a grin behind her hand. "Ladies, do have a better afternoon than the morning you’ve already had," she waved them away. "Now, Doctor, how is our little girl doing?" she turned to the EMH.

________________

Kieran Thompson-Torres leaned back in her chair, contemplating the dilemma before her. "Seven," she informed the Borg regretfully, "I can’t help you with this one. I’m in the same boat," she ruefully admitted. "B'Elanna is nearly impossible to live with right now. I’m sure Kathryn’s no worse—after all, B'Elanna is a Klingon."

Seven smiled faintly. "I’m certain B'Elanna is a handful," Seven agreed. "However, I cannot even discuss Kathryn’s behavior with her—it sets her off on another fit. She actually threw a dish at me last night," Seven’s eyes darkened with hurt. "She is so unpredictable. I am afraid she will hurt herself."

Kieran was startled. "Kathryn threw a dish at you? That is out of character for her," Kieran muttered to herself. "I can order her to see the Doctor. Really, Seven, it’s just a hormonal thing, and he’s better equipped to address it. I’d counsel her if she were rational enough to benefit from it, but it sounds as though she is beyond the reach of a friendly discussion."

Seven couldn’t hide her disappointment. "Should I be worried about Naomi?"

"No," Kieran replied quickly. "Kathryn would never hurt her. Though I am a bit concerned about what Kathryn’s behavior is doing to Naomi’s emotions. Does she seem okay to you?"

Seven nodded. "However, like myself, she is spending a good deal more time away from our quarters. She is suddenly very interested in helping Neelix in the mess hall," Seven chuckled.

"Maybe she can teach him something," Kieran quipped. "One can always hope."

_________________

Naomi was having a bad day. First, she had repeatedly blown up a plasma conduit in a simulation she was doing on the holodeck. B'Elanna had been conciliatory, but the Chief Engineer’s patient words had only humiliated the young officer. B'Elanna had been called away for a real emergency, and Naomi was left feeling there was no resolution to her quandary, which she continued to work on unsuccessfully for another hour. When her holodeck time expired, she was no closer to a solution, and she was a good deal more frustrated.

Second, when she had gone home and attempted to tell Kathryn about the incident, instead of an encouraging word, Kathryn had lit into her about some clothing that Naomi had left on her bedroom floor.

"You know, Naomi, Seven and I are not here to pick up after you all the time," Kathryn had scolded her. "You made a mess of the ensuite this morning, and your room is cluttered and unkempt. I am the Captain. I can institute inspections, if need be. Now I want your room cleaned up, and I want the water all over the ensuite floor mopped up. Understood?"

Naomi had flounced down the hall in a pique of irritation, wishing she had an old fashioned door, like the one on Sandrine’s bathroom, just so she could slam it loudly. Picking up her room served to take the edge off her anger, but she quickly segued to tears when under a pile of PADDs, she found a picture that Mezoti had drawn of the two of them. She ached inwardly at the memory of the arts and crafts exercises Seven had devised to entertain and amuse the children. Mezoti had loved to color, and Naomi had found, with Mezoti, the rare opportunity to truly be a child. She studied the crude representation of herself, contemplated the pointed K’Tarian brow protrusions exaggerated to large horns in the drawing, and cried harder. Mezoti had been the only person Naomi had ever known that made Naomi feel equal. To everyone else on Voyager, Naomi Wildman was a subordinate.

Naomi flung herself on the bed, crying miserably into her pillow. If she really thought carefully, she would have realized that Kieran never made her feel like a subordinate. But at that moment, Naomi was out of sorts, and besides, Kieran was so busy planning for her own wedding, she had hardly said two words to her young friend in the last three weeks.

Seven had been even worse, staying in the Astrometrics lab until all hours, purposely ignoring Naomi. Naomi suspected that just as she had feared, the impending arrival of the baby had made her somehow less in Seven’s eyes. Seven’s behavior only reinforced the young girl’s misconstruction of the situation.

Naomi tasted the salt on her face, weeping bitterly over what had become of her life, which felt utterly hopeless at the moment. She wished she had been adopted along with Mezoti. She wished her mother was still alive. She wished someone loved her the way Kieran loved B'Elanna. More than anything, she wished things would just go back to the way they were before Mezoti left, before K-Mom got pregnant, before things had gone so wrong.

_____________

Seven of Nine ran the Astrometrics department as tightly and efficiently as a Borg hive. Her staff respected and admired her, though few could say they felt any remarkable closeness to the former drone. Ensign Rachel McVicker, a former Maquis rebel, had recently been reassigned to Astrometrics. She had shown a keen ability in stellar cartography, and security no longer needed her on their duty roster since Neelix could be called upon in a pinch.

Unlike the other members of the Astrometrics staff who kept a respectful distance from their boss, Rachel McVicker was blatantly infatuated with Seven of Nine. Rachel was convinced she had adequately hidden her feelings, however, and blithely approached her job as if her attraction to the former Borg was a secret to all concerned. Seven of Nine chose to ignore the young Ensign’s crush, and maintained her usual aloof and professional demeanor in regards to the newest addition to her staff. She tried not to notice that Rachel, on occasion, gazed longingly at Her Borgness, and Seven was always careful to keep their relationship formal. The young Ensign was competent in her position, and Seven found herself grudgingly relying upon McVicker more than she could some of the senior members of her staff.

Seven had begun to spend longer hours on the job, largely because Kathryn had become almost unbearable to be around with the progression of her pregnancy. Seven felt guilty for avoiding her spouse, but Kathryn’s moods were so erratic, Seven felt she had to walk on eggshells to prevent the always impending argument or the next outburst. She knew they should consult the ship’s counselor, or even discuss the situation with the Doctor, but Kathryn refused to be dragged off for medical or mental treatment. The couple needed desperately to clear the air between them, but Seven had yet to find a rational moment in which to approach her wife. The Borg had tolerated the tension by withdrawing more into her work and her private thoughts, but she was decidedly tired of jumping at her own shadow after being conditioned to expect the worst everytime Kathryn opened her mouth.

When long range sensors picked up a phenomenon that could potentially be a wormhole, Seven and her staff worked double shifts to answer the questions posed by the spatial anomaly. McVicker volunteered for every possible task Seven could delegate. When the telemetry from the probe they sent into the wormhole came back, Seven lingered over the data for hours, scarcely stopping to eat or even to contact Kathryn regarding her whereabouts. McVicker was practically joined at the hip to the Borg, pouring over the information, hammering out calculations, working feverishly to earn the respect of her section head.

Back in their quarters, Kathryn Janeway paced the floor, agitated and wishing Seven would come home. Kathryn realized she had been less than agreeable of late, and had planned an elaborate dinner to apologize to her partner. The food withered beneath stasis lids, the candles burned down to stubs, and Naomi had come home from Kieran and B'Elanna’s and gone to bed hours before, and still, Seven did not come home. Kathryn sighed and sat down to eat the salmon and asparagus, not tasting it, but needing to stop the incessant growl in her belly. Her spirits dashed, Kathryn wept silently as she ate. Sadness gave way to anger after the food had been eaten, and Kathryn resumed pacing.

When the chronometer showed 0320 hours, Kathryn stopped pacing and threw on her uniform, gnashing her teeth as she strode purposefully toward the Astrometrics lab. She entered the lab to find McVicker looking up at the ravishing Borg with unmistakable admiration, listening intently as Seven recited the calculations that had allowed her to rule out that the wormhole might lead to the Alpha Quadrant.

"So you see, the blue-shift variant must be calculated with respect to the recession velocity within the wormhole, and using Hubbell’s constant, we compensate," Seven demonstrated her figures on a PADD for Rachel to observe.

"Seven, that’s brilliant," McVicker breathed in awe, captivated by the shapely curve of Seven’s lips as she described her logic. "I never would have thought to make that adjustment."

Kathryn’s jealousy flared at the sight of the attractive, dark haired Ensign staring adoringly at her spouse. "Ensign!" she barked. "Perhaps if you spent more time contemplating your logic and less time contemplating my wife, you wouldn’t be so clueless," Janeway’s glare could have melted duranium.

Seven’s eyes flew open in shock, and she flushed with anger, but said nothing. McVicker nearly wet her pants. "Captain! I—I’m sorry, Sir, I was—I was—" McVicker stammered.

"I know perfectly well what you were doing, Ensign. Your duty shift ended hours ago. You’re dismissed," Janeway returned coldly.

"Yes, Captain," poor Rachel replied weakly, humiliated beyond words. She practically ran from the lab.

Once she had gone, Seven spun angrily on her Captain. "Honestly, Kathryn, that was uncalled for," Seven hissed. "Rachel is very young—" Seven began to explain.

Kathryn interrupted her hotly. "Oh, Rachel, is it now? Rachel is very young? I’ve never known you to be on a first name basis with anyone but Naomi and me, Seven," Kathryn said in an accusing tone.

Seven was livid, her face reddening as her anger sharpened. "I resent what you are implying, Kathryn Janeway. You will not speak to me this way. And you will not treat my staff as if they are beneath human contempt!"

"I am the Captain, goddamn it!" Janeway shot back, her mouth twisted in a bitter grimace. "I will speak to this crew in whatever manner I see fit! And don’t try to tell me that little tart wasn’t ogling you, Seven," she shouted. "And don’t pretend you weren’t enjoying it! I see how you look at her," she accused. She grabbed Seven’s arm roughly to stop her from turning away. "How far has it gone with her, Seven?" Janeway demanded to know, her face a mask of scarlet outrage.

"Do not raise your voice to me, Kathryn. I can hear you perfectly. Ensign McVicker was not ogling me, and even if she were, it would hardly be an unusual event in my daily life. I can see that you are beyond reason in this matter. You owe me an apology, as well as Ensign McVicker. Until we both receive the apologies we are due, I will be in Cargo Bay 2," Seven advised her partner stiffly, walking briskly away.

"I did not dismiss you! Get back here!" Kathryn shouted after her.

Seven did not look back once.

__________________

Rachel McVicker lay despondently on her bed staring up at the ceiling, wondering how in the world she had gone from a comfortable, if distasteful, position in security to her dream job in Astrometrics, only to end up being chewed out by the Captain for the simple sin of doing her job and admiring her superior officer, Seven of Nine.

Rachel’s piercing green eyes were clouded with angry tears, and the fact that she usually responded to anger by crying made her even angrier. She perceived crying as a weakness, and found she usually could not forestall tears once her fury had taken hold. She fumed inwardly. How could Janeway talk to her like that? Maybe she should have stayed Maquis and refused to join Voyager. But Rachel had trusted Chakotay, and had been acquaintances with B'Elanna Torres, and their judgment carried a lot of weight with the former Maquis. She had embraced the joint venture between Maquis and Starfleet with more support than most Maquis had shown. This was her reward, she supposed.

Seven of Nine had initially stormed out of Astrometrics and headed for her alcove in Cargo Bay 2, but thought better of it. She realized that Ensign McVicker was unaccustomed to Kathryn’s tirades, and certainly had never been the target of one. Seven decided to stop by the Ensign’s quarters to determine if Rachel was still functioning within acceptable parameters after the dressing down she had received.

Seven stood in the hall, hands folded behind her back, as she waited for Rachel to answer the door chime. Janeway, having also decided to pay the young Ensign a conciliatory visit, rounded the corner and saw her spouse awaiting entry into Rachel’s quarters. If she had stopped to give the matter any thought, Kathryn would have realized Seven was merely there as a matter of duty, making sure that her staff member’s self esteem was intact and reassuring the undoubtedly shaken Ensign. But Kathryn didn’t give it any thought, and jumped to the conclusion that Seven must have some interest in Rachel McVicker. Instead of asking, or following through by apologizing to Rachel, the Captain spun angrily on her heel and left the corridor, heading for home to get ready for her shift on the bridge.

Rachel McVicker hadn’t even put on her pajamas, too wound up to consider trying to sleep. She answered her door still in uniform, and the door slid back to reveal the most lovely vision she could imagine. Her jaw dropped as Seven greeted her.

"Ensign," Seven said gently. "May I come in?"

Rachel nearly jumped out of the doorway. "Please," she invited the Borg in with a slight wave of her hand. "Can I do something for you, Sir?"

Seven actually smiled. "Yes," she replied honestly. "Stop calling me Sir," she replied with a faint curl at the corners of her lips. "Seven will do."

"Can I do something for you, Seven?" Rachel corrected herself.

Seven strode into the small quarters, struck by how confining they were. She had not considered the living conditions, having always had free range in the Cargo Bay and having had the luxury of living with the Captain. "Your quarters are—nice," she struggled for the socially acceptable small talk the Doctor had attempted to teach her.

"Thank you. Can I get you something to drink? I was just about to make some hot green tea," Rachel offered politely. "Please, have a seat," she led the towering blonde to the small sitting area where a miniature dining table and two chairs filled all the available space.

"Tea would be acceptable," Seven replied, draping her long legs over the tiny seat and trying to arrange her limbs gracefully. "I wanted to tell you I appreciate the work you are doing in Astrometrics. I am grateful for your work ethic, Ensign, and I want to thank you for your assistance. You are doing a fine job. I hope you will not take the Captain’s outburst to heart."

McVicker grimaced slightly. "I was rather taken by surprise, I admit," she began. "Captain Janeway is ordinarily so calm and collected—at least to the limited extent I have interacted with her," Rachel amended.

Seven accepted a cup of tea, frowning. "Kathryn—Captain Janeway—is having a very difficult pregnancy," she confided.

"Really? Is she okay?" Rachel sounded genuine in her concern.

"She is fine, and our child is fine, but the strain on Kathryn’s emotions and her body have been enormous. She is simply not herself. And I—I—don’t know what to do," Seven faltered, her voice catching in her throat.

Rachel reached for her hand instantly. "It’s okay, Seven, you can tell me anything. I won’t say a word," she promised, squeezing the Borg’s mesh encased hand.

Seven smiled ruefully. "I am sorry, Ensign, I am just on such unfamiliar ground right now, and everything I do or say seems to make matters worse. Kathryn has been abominable. Everything makes her angry. She is depressed and moody and alternates between crying bouts and temper tantrums. Even poor Naomi has been on the receiving end of some of Kathryn’s more remarkable moments. She was devastated, and Kathryn was immediately sorry, but the damage, I fear, has been done." Seven sighed, wanting to cry, but willing herself not to allow it. "And then to burst into the lab like that, and to say those cruel and unjust things to you—"

"No," Rachel stopped her. "It’s okay. The Captain had every right to be angry with me," she admitted. "I—well, Seven, I was looking at you with more than a little admiration, and I can see why she would have jumped to the worst conclusion," the dark haired scientist allowed.

"No, it is not ‘okay’," Seven argued. "I certainly admire a great many individuals aboard Voyager, but it does not mean that I have any improper intentions toward them, just as you have no improper intentions toward me. You are, as B'Elanna Torres would say, an honorable woman, and you respect the boundaries of my marriage. Kathryn acted as if you had asked me to sneak off with you for copulation," she bit the words off with renewed hostility for her spouse. "It was an insult to your integrity, but even more an insult to mine. I am committed to her, and I would never consider such a thing," she protested with feeling. "Hormones or no hormones, she simply cannot be permitted to treat me or my staff with such blatant disregard," Seven was feeling her ire full force.

"I don’t want to be the reason you stay mad at her, Seven," Rachel said softly. "It’s forgotten, truly. You should go home and make up with her. It’s important for her, for your baby, for Naomi—you love her, that’s so plain to see. My mother always told me not to let the sun set on your anger. Even if you were in the right, better you should apologize and open the lines of communication. Don’t you think?" Rachel gave Seven’s hand an encouraging squeeze.

Seven considered momentarily. "Kathryn is working on the bridge, by now, and she hates it when I approach her with personal matters during her shift. Besides, she needs to think about what she has done. I really insist upon her apology, and I expect her to tender the same to you. But I thank you for your helpful counsel, Ensign."

"Please, Seven, call me Rachel. All my friends do. I’d like to think we might be friends someday."

Seven smiled brightly, and for the young Ensign, it was as if the heavens had opened to flood the room with sunshine. "Very well, Rachel," Seven stood to depart. "Thank you for the tea. You are relieved of duty today. Get some rest, and report as usual tomorrow."

"Yes, Seven," Rachel responded formally, but smiled.

___________________

Naomi Wildman was beside herself with bewilderment. She had never known Seven and Kathryn to fight, and certainly there had never been an instance when Seven or Kathryn refused to come home. She fretted incessantly over the turn of events that had kept Seven in Cargo Bay 2 for two consecutive nights, and although both her mothers reassured her that things would be fine, she began to doubt that the two women would ever ‘kiss and make up’.

Naomi had seemed so distraught, Neelix had insisted she have a slice of chocolate cake with ice cream, and spend the afternoon doing whatever her heart desired, instead of helping him in the kitchen as she often did. The mess hall was empty since it was too early for the dinner crowd. Naomi played with the confection, not really caring about eating it, but enjoying the way the chocolate icing made swirls with the thick, white fluid that was rapidly losing its frozen consistency. She was wrapped up in her thoughts, and did not notice that B'Elanna had entered the mess hall to get her thermos of coffee refilled.

"Hey, Wildwoman," B'Elanna greeted her protégé cheerfully. "Looks like you’re letting that go to waste. Something on your mind?"

Naomi glanced up at the slightly built Klingon, who beneath the gold shouldered uniform was all sinew and polished muscle. Naomi sighed. "I wish Seven would come home," she grumbled.

"She will when she’s off duty," B'Elanna incorrectly noted. "Is something wrong? You can talk to me—I’ve got a little time," she added kindly, seating herself at Naomi’s table.

"She won’t," Naomi insisted. "She hasn’t been home for two days. If I want to see her, I have to go to the Cargo Bay," the child said with disgust.

B'Elanna’s brow furrowed with concern. "Is she okay? Is her alcove functioning properly?"

"She says she’s okay, but I think she is just making it up. She had a big fight with K-Mom."

Oh shit, tread lightly Torres, you may be walking into a hornet’s nest. "What makes you say that?"

Naomi rolled her eyes. "Well, the fact that K-Mom has been meaner than a Targ in heat was one clue," she said sarcastically, "but other than that, Seven said they were having a disagreement. From the language K-Mom was using, I’d say it was more than a difference of opinion."

Much as B'Elanna Torres loved gossip, she hated hearing this sort of bad news. "They were fighting in front of you?"

"Oh, no," Naomi clarified. "They’d never do that. But I overheard some of what they said—mostly the words I’d get in trouble for saying," she almost grinned. "But now they aren’t speaking. They need to work it out, but neither one of them has the good sense to talk to the other." Naomi redirected her attention back to her food, which was mostly liquid now. Her hazel eyes filled with tears as she asked B'Elanna "Do you think they’ll stop loving each other, ‘Lanna?"

B'Elanna thought her heart would break. "No, sweetie, of course not," she soothed the youngster’s anxiety, drawing her into her lap. Naomi leaned against B'Elanna’s shoulder, letting the Chief Engineer stroke her strawberry blonde hair. "Sometimes grown ups just act like jackasses, and nobody knows why, but it doesn’t mean Seven and Kathryn stopped loving each other, and it most definitely does NOT mean they have stopped loving you."

Naomi sniffled. "Are you sure? Seven may want to punish Kathryn, but staying away is just punishing me—and I didn’t do anything wrong, at least I don’t think I did," she sounded deeply injured by the absence of her Borg mother.

"I’m sure, honey," B'Elanna hugged her tightly. "Nothing you do could ever make them stop loving you, just like Kieran and I will always love you. We’re family. We all want what is best for you. Right now, Seven and Kathryn are just so angry, they are forgetting what is important. That’s all. They’ll work it out," she tried to sound certain.

Naomi hugged B'Elanna back. "I hope so. If they don’t make up soon, they are going to miss our vacation after your honeymoon."

B'Elanna winced at the mention of the occasion. She had half a mind to march right into Astrometrics and give Seven a tongue lashing. Or right into the ready room and lay into the Captain. "Try to be patient, Na. I’ll talk to Seven. And Kieran will talk to Kathryn. We’ll figure out a way to get them talking to each other again."

Naomi wiped her tears on her sleeve. "Promise?"

"Cross my hearts—both of them," B'Elanna agreed.

Naomi softly kissed her friend’s cheek. "Thanks, ‘Lanna. I love you," she whispered.

B'Elanna rested her chin atop the young girl’s head. "And I love you, Na. Don’t worry yourself anymore," she added firmly.

________________

Seven of Nine rarely missed anything, but in her fury with Kathryn, she had missed some critical information about the wormhole she and Ensign McVicker had analyzed. Luckily for Seven, Rachel had noticed the crucial datum that was the key to the wormhole, for while it did not lead to the Alpha Quadrant, it did actually provide Voyager with a 500 light year shortcut to bring them closer to said Quadrant. McVicker had stumbled over this fact while perusing the data to get a better idea of Seven’s calculations and logic, and while reminiscing about the Borg’s brilliance. Had she not been totally infatuated with Seven of Nine, the discovery would never have occurred.

Rachel was reluctant to bring the information to Seven’s attention, however, because it meant pointing out to the proud Borg that she had overlooked the shortcut, and Rachel hated the idea of showing up her boss. She checked and rechecked the data, assuring herself repeatedly of its validity, and then tried to think of how to tell Seven what she had discovered. The characteristically cool head of the Astrometrics department had been uncharacteristically emotional of late, and Rachel knew things between the Captain and the Borg were not improving. Finally, for lack of any easy way to present the topic, Rachel requested a private meeting with Seven during Beta shift, since both women were off duty and very few crew would be present in the lab.

Seven had secured a small area off the main lab to use as a makeshift office, and though she rarely availed herself of it, Rachel had seemed so nervous about meeting with Seven, Seven decided privacy was called for. She sat across a table, studying her subordinate, who visibly fidgeted as she clasped her hands in her lap.

"State your purpose for requesting this meeting, Ensign," Seven said formally, but gently. "At ease, or as Kathryn says, you may sprain something."

That elicited a short laugh from the Ensign, who relaxed slightly. "Seven, I was looking back over the wormhole data, and I think I may have come up with something that was—er—overlooked in the initial analysis. I wanted you to look over my findings—just for a second pair of eyes, you understand. I could be entirely mistaken, and forgive me for the presumption that you would ever overlook anything—"

Seven ignored her rambling counterpart’s self-effacing manner and took the PADD, scrolling through the information. "Ensign, this is excellent work, and you are correct. I completely overlooked this. Your calculations are precise and well thought out. This will please the Captain immensely." She slapped her comm badge. "Seven to Janeway."

"Janeway here. Go ahead," Janeway replied, her voice almost hopeful. Perhaps this was the expected apology.

"Captain, Ensign McVicker has discovered something very fortuitous that will require an immediate course correction," Seven reported without vocal inflection.

Janeway hesitated, then replied. "Commander Chakotay is on his way for your report. Janeway out."

The bridge staff had been holding a collective breath, and let it out with utter dismay when the Captain severed the comm link with her fanny still firmly planted in the big chair. Janeway had been difficult to tolerate even for the stoic Tuvok, who wished to the ancient ones that Kathryn would get off her proverbial high horse and apologize to Seven, who was clearly in the right in Tuvok’s logical estimation. Janeway would ordinarily jump at the chance to head for Astrometrics, and sending Chakotay was like dumping a bucket of ice water over Seven’s head.

Harry Kim and Tom Paris exchanged disappointed looks with one another. Harry’s thoughts turned to Naomi Wildman, who was inconsolable over the rift between her parents. Harry made a mental note to try to spend some time with her, maybe take her for a romp in the holodeck. He had been longing to try out a kayaking program, but he could sacrifice an hour for something more Naomi’s style. He adored the little K’Tarian-Human hybrid, and found her company both interesting and stimulating. He really didn’t think the Captain and Seven were being fair to Naomi, and every day that the two women refused to speak, Naomi sank deeper in her depression.

_______________

Seven of Nine, late of the Borg collective, puzzled over the inefficiency of human emotions. She missed Naomi, and she missed Kathryn, but she felt she could not return to the quarters she shared with her spouse until Kathryn tendered a proper apology. Kathryn was ordinarily a reasonable person, and though she had her moments of irrationality, Seven had fully expected that Kathryn would ‘come to her senses’ and admit she had been wrong about Rachel McVicker.

A week had passed, and still, Kathryn had not apologized. In fact, Kathryn had withdrawn from Seven completely. Naomi had done her best to wheedle and cajole the two women into declaring a truce. Seven had tried to explain to Naomi that Kathryn’s behavior had been unacceptable, and she tried to make the girl understand what made it so. Naomi could only see that her happy home was no longer happy or a home. Seven felt terrible about Naomi’s sadness, but she knew that the issues between she and Kathryn couldn’t be smoothed over or forgotten. Kathryn had to know that Seven was not interested in anyone but Kathryn. She had to understand that Seven was incapable of infidelity. If Kathryn didn’t truly trust Seven, if she didn’t know Seven well enough to know how outrageous it was to suspect Seven, then there was no relationship to save.

Seven worked harder than ever. She tried to make her absence up to Naomi by leaving notes and stopping by after her lessons each day, but Naomi wasn’t comforted. She wanted both her parents home. Seven could not bring herself to apologize for what was not her fault. The injustice of the situation pricked her stubbornness into full force.

________________

"I called you both here because I think you need to talk," Counselor Kieran Thompson advised the two women. She looked at them each in turn, her expression as stern as she could will it to be. "This nonsense has got to stop. You’re both acting like children—no, worse than children, because Naomi is a child, and would never act like this," she scolded. "Now I’m going to leave you two alone. I’m locking you in here for the next hour. When I come back, there had better be progress, or we’re going to have an old fashioned ‘come to Jesus meeting’, ladies."

Seven quirked an eyebrow and cocked her head, not understanding the reference. Kieran ignored her confusion and stormed out of her office, sealing the door as she left.

"Maybe she’s right. Maybe we should talk," Janeway began, digging her toe into the deck plating and staring at the floor.

"Maybe? You’re not even certain you want to talk to me?" Seven was furious. "You accuse me of breaking our wedding vows with Ensign McVicker, and you think maybe we should talk, Kathryn?" Seven’s nostrils flared indignantly.

"I didn’t accuse you of any such thing!" Janeway protested.

"You implied as much! The words did not have to be explicitly spoken," Seven volleyed. "You are carrying our child, and you have the audacity to question my commitment to you?"

Janeway leapt out of her chair. "That’s right, by God, I’m carrying our child--your child. I don’t see you making the bodily sacrifice to bring this baby into the world. I have a ship to run, thank you very much, but I’m the one with morning sickness and back aches and mood swings and twenty extra pounds to lug around!"

Seven shoved her chair across the room as she stood up. "You certainly do have those mood swings, don’t you Kathryn? You think you may humiliate and abuse anyone you please, and when you are confronted with the error of your ways, you hide behind the excuse of gestational hormones. Absurd!"

"Hey, I don’t see you having your body poked and prodded and invaded, Your Borgness. You have no idea what it is like to be pregnant. Hell you don’t even know what it’s like to be human!" Kathryn literally spat the words in her rancor.

Seven’s eyes widened with shock and hurt. "If your behavior is human, then I have no desire to be one!" she shouted back.

"That’s a fine sentiment from someone who stooped low enough to marry one. And don’t try to tell me that McVicker doesn’t have the hots for you, because I’m not that gullible," Janeway hissed.

"I have had enough! Enough!" Seven cried out. She tore the access panel from the wall beside the door and rerouted the security protocols, forcing the door open an inch. With barely controlled rage she yanked the door open completely, Borg enhanced strength nearly tearing the heavy alloy out of its frame. "Your promises were all lies. You don’t love me. You don’t trust me. And you certainly don’t want to be with me," Seven accused as she exploded from the Counselor’s office.

As she watched her wife’s departing form, Kathryn Janeway was too infuriated to consider the bitterness and distance that had multiplied between them. She swore all the way to the bridge, and darkly imagined the ass chewing she would give Kieran for insisting on trying to counsel the troubled couple.

____________

"Helm," Janeway barked at Tom Paris, "take us in."

"Yes ma’am," Tom responded, though he knew Janeway hated to be called ‘ma’am’.

"Steady as she goes. Raise shields," Janeway turned to Tuvok.

"Shields are at maximum," he calmly reported.

"Entering the wormhole in five, four, three, two—" Tom counted down.

"Sickbay to Janeway," the Doctor’s voice was terse.

"Go ahead." Janeway nodded to Tom who guided the ship into the wormhole.

"Captain, Naomi is ill and she is asking for you. Please report immediately," the Doctor said with supreme annoyance. Tempers were frazzled now that everyone was aware of the standoff between Janeway and Seven, and most had definite opinions regarding who was in the right, and who was not. The Doctor would never side against Seven in anything.

"On my way, Doctor," Janeway replied. "Chakotay, keep me up to date. You have the bridge," she flung back over her shoulder as she hit the turbo lift at a jog.

When Kathryn flew into sickbay, she was greeted by the sight of her daughter sobbing, gathered up in Seven’s arms. The Borg had a look of complete remorse on her face. Kathryn’s heart jolted at the sight of her spouse, whom she had not seen for almost a week, but her stubbornness reasserted itself before she had lapsed in her resolve.

"Report," Janeway ordered the EMH, pulling him aside.

"Naomi is suffering from the preliminary stages of peptic ulcer," the Doctor advised the Captain coldly, "most likely brought on by severe emotional upset," he said pointedly. "She has a chronic stomach ache, nausea, vomiting, and my scans indicate the lining of her stomach is on the verge of bleeding. As with peptic ulcers, she eats and it makes the pain go away, but then it returns within an hour or so, and is much worse than if she refrains from eating altogether. Consequently, she has stopped eating over the last 72 hours. I don’t suppose you noticed," he accused.

Janeway’s eyebrows shot up dramatically. "What can you do for her?"

The Doctor sighed. Janeway was obviously ignoring his pointed observations, and he was about to lose patience. "First of all, I can treat her with antagonists that stop the production of stomach acid. That will allow the lining of her stomach to heal. But as long as she is subjected to the emotional trauma she is currently experiencing, the condition will persist. My prescription, Captain, is for you and Seven of Nine to stop acting like children, resolve your differences, and get back to providing a stable home for the only real child involved."

Janeway was just about to unleash a major ass chewing when the ship jolted. She slapped her comm badge. "Chakotay, report," she snapped.

"Just some minor turbulence as we exited the wormhole, Captain."

"Very well. Resume course," she replied.

Janeway turned from the Doctor and approached her ailing daughter. "Hey, sweetie," she said softly, taking Naomi’s hand. "You’re going to be fine. The Doctor will have you fixed up in no time. Can I get you anything?"

Naomi nodded mutely.

"What?" Janeway prodded.

"Order Seven to come home," Naomi’s eyes pleaded with her surrogate mother and CO.

Janeway was startled by the request. "I—uh, Naomi I can’t—"

"You’re the Captain, K-Mom. You can do anything you want. You tell everyone that all the time. You said ‘I’m the Captain goddamn it, and I’ll do whatever I damn well please.’ So make her come home." Naomi swallowed hard. "If you love me, you’ll order her to come home," she added softly. "I can’t stand this. You guys act like you hate each other. We used to be happy together, ‘til you got pregnant, and now nothing is right," she noted poignantly.

Kathryn bit her lower lip, gathered her stubborn pride, and shook her head slowly. "I can’t order Seven to come home. It doesn’t work like that, Naomi," she said apologetically. "The doctor is going to give you some medicine that will make your stomach feel better. I’ll come by later to see you. Until then, you rest. I’m needed on the bridge." She leaned over the biobed and kissed Naomi’s cheek. "Feel better. We need you ship-shape for duty tomorrow, Bridge Assistant."

Naomi’s bottom lip trembled. "Yes, Captain."

As Kathryn Janeway practically ran from the sickbay, Seven of Nine vaguely wondered who in the universe had just been in the room; not the woman she had married, that was definite. With a sigh, she turned her attention to the matter at hand.

"Naomi, you must get better," she began.

______________

"Counselor," Seven greeted one of the only crew members who was tall enough to look her straight in the eyes, and lovely, glacier blue eyes they were.

"Come in, Seven," Kieran Thompson motioned with her arm as she stepped aside from the doorway of her office. "Right on time, as always. Can I get you something to drink? Some tea? Lemonade? I know you don’t drink coffee," the Counselor was busy punching in the commands to feed her own addiction to caffeine. "I can’t function without it, since B'Elanna and I got together. I seem to have adopted her vice."

"I do not require anything," Seven replied, taking her seat. "Apparently, I have adopted Kathryn’s worst vice, as well."

"Oh? Which one?" Kieran asked with a twinkle in her deep brown eyes.

Seven hung her head. "Her pigheadedness, if I understand the word." Seven’s cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment at her own behavior.

Kieran promptly sat down, her coffee forgotten. "Tell me what’s been going on, Seven."

The former Borg grappled with her own ineloquence as she tried to phrase her concerns. Not being accustomed to conflict, or to human pettiness, Seven was ill prepared to understand her own or her spouse’s behavior. "I find that I am—no less angry now than when Kathryn accused me of infidelity. Usually, when Kathryn angers me, it dissipates with time. Am I simply stubbornly holding onto my feelings of anger, Counselor?"

"What I think doesn’t matter, Seven. Is that what you truly think you’re doing?" Kieran asked, her voice encouraging and accepting.

"It would not be logical, but I cannot be sure. That is why I asked your opinion, Counselor," Seven’s tone took on a hint of exasperation.

"Are you stubbornly holding onto your feelings of anger? I doubt it Seven. You are still angry because Kathryn’s accusation strikes at the very foundation of your relationship. You believe there is a fundamental issue at stake here, and I agree. Your continued anger and frustration is a testament to how important the principle of trust is to you," Kieran reinforced for the confused young woman. "You will likely continue to be angry with her until she is persuaded to your way of thinking on the subject."

Seven wrung her hands in her lap. "Why can’t she see how unfair she is being, not just to me, but to Rachel and to Naomi?" Seven picked at the fabric of her biometric suit, as if to remove lint from the bodice. "How can she even believe for a second that I would break our commitment?"

"Do you really think she meant it when she accused you? I mean, people say things in the heat of fury that they don’t mean. I imagine you may have said a few things to Kathryn you didn’t mean," Kieran chided the oh-so-formal Borg.

Seven shook her head. "No. I chose my words carefully, as I always do with her. I endeavor to remain calm and to speak from a position of strength through rational thought and ordered logic." Seven considered momentarily. "Though the day you locked us in your office, I may have overstated my case, in the heat of anger. I believe I told Kathryn that all her promises were lies. That was a false statement. Only most of her promises were lies," she amended.

"Well, exaggeration is hardly a punishable offense. In fact, there are many on this ship who have raised it to an art form," she noted wryly.

Seven’s full lips curled slightly at the corners. "Yes, I can think of several individuals that fit that description," she acknowledged. Then after further consideration, she steered them back to the topic at hand. "I do not seem to be capable of meaningful discourse with my own spouse," she said with genuine regret. "It’s as if there is an endless supply of ill feeling, whenever we try to talk, and it just spills out in progressively uglier forms. I am fully confounded by our inability to communicate at this juncture. Kathryn and I have always been able to discuss things together, even when we disagree vehemently, but now when I look at the woman who is Kathryn Janeway, I feel as though I’m looking at a total stranger," she explained. "And when I look at myself in the mirror, the image staring back is equally foreign to me. I search my heart and I cannot access the love that I know is there for her. I cannot feel it, Kieran. I cannot find it within myself."

Steepling her fingers together thoughtfully, elbows propped on the arms of her chair, the affable Lieutenant tried to offer reassurance. "It’s there, Seven. It’s just veiled by your more salient emotions of hurt and distrust, at the moment. The fact that you are trying to feel it, that you continue to seek it out in yourself, is a very positive sign."

"It is irrelevant unless Kathryn is willing to do the same. I think she is convinced that if she does nothing, the situation will right itself of its own accord, as if there is a set of emotional inertial dampeners that guarantee we will find a state of equilibrium, with or without conscious effort." Seven sighed heavily. "I do not know how much longer I can go on like this. I feel as though I have been severed from the Collective, all over again."

Kieran instantly reached out and took Seven’s hand from her lap. "You are not alone, Seven. I am right here. B'Elanna is here. You have the support and admiration and love of this crew. We are your collective, and whether or not you are married to Kathryn Janeway bears no relevance to that connection."

Seven swallowed the lump in her throat. "I am grateful for your support, and friendship," she said softly. Then more forcefully, "And I still do not feel I have done anything to deserve this treatment from Kathryn, or that I owe her any apology. Naomi, however, is suffering because we cannot resolve our troubles. And I am sorry for that."

"So am I," Kieran agreed. "She is hurt and confused, and nothing I do or say seems to make it any easier for her. And I admit, I am so busy with the preparations for the wedding, I hardly have time for a personal life. I have encouraged Naomi to come in for an appointment, but she declined the invitation. I can’t order her to see me," the Counselor wished she could issue such an order, but it wasn’t ethically justified.

"I will attempt to persuade her to schedule a session with you, if you think it will help her. My reassurances to her are wearing thin, I fear," the ice blue eyes revealed the toll the past days had taken on the former drone.

"Good," Kieran squeezed Seven’s hand. "And you hang in there, Seven. It may not be easy going, just now, but eventually, Kathryn has to come to her senses."

Seven bit her lip. "I hope so, Counselor."

_______________

B'Elanna Torres fussed at herself in the full length mirror trying to adjust her tunic just so, hiding the slight bulge of her tummy. She and Kieran had agreed to be married in modified Klingon wedding garb, consisting of simple but elegant blood red tunics with long sleeves and tab collars, black trousers and black boots. They elected to forego the greaves and other leather adornments. The rich tone of the pearlescent fabric offset B'Elanna’s dark complexion with stunning effect. Seven attended her as her the tawi'yan, or sword bearer, and found herself truly awed by the Klingon’s loveliness.

"B'Elanna Torres," Seven pronounced, holding B'Elanna’s hands and looking her over, "You are a beautiful woman. Kieran Thompson is indeed lucky to be your intended mate."

B'Elanna smiled warmly at her Borg friend. "Thanks, Seven. Kieran is pretty lucky, if I do say so myself. But don’t tell her I said so. She’ll accuse me of Klingon arrogance."

Seven quirked an eyebrow. "You are Klingon. It is your nature to be arrogant. Any such accusation would be a redundant statement of the obvious. Let me just adjust your hair adornment," Seven frowned slightly, fastening the baby’s breath sprig in B'Elanna’s dark tresses. "A charming effect," she announced to no one. "Are you ready?"

B'Elanna examined Seven, who wore an outfit identical to her own, except the tawi'yan’s garments were a soft cream color. "As usual, you will look better than everyone else in the room. You’d think on my wedding day you could manage to look a little less drop-dead gorgeous, Mrs. Hansen-Janeway."

Seven flinched. She couldn’t hide the sad realization that the mention of her married name brought, but she kissed B'Elanna’s cheek fondly, smiling at her long time friend. "All eyes will be upon you, Ms. Torres, soon to be Mrs. Thompson-Torres." Seven straightened her own posture, offered B'Elanna her arm, and handed B'Elanna her bouquet. "Let’s go make you legal," she quipped. "You have been a par'machkai for too long."

B'Elanna grinned at Seven, who had just called her, roughly, the equivalent of a trollop. "Well, Kahless forbid that marriage would make me any less of a slut. Kieran would be terribly disappointed, if it were so."

_____________

Holodeck One was programmed to simulate an indoor setting on Earth, a simple stone chapel in which the multicolored rocks, cemented together in rough, asymmetrical beauty, formed the four walls beneath an arched wooden-beamed ceiling. There were long wooden benches on either side of the aisle, and at the front of the sanctuary, a traditional set of carpeted stairs, three steps high. Though the building was a piece of Kieran’s Judeo-Christian Earth culture, there were many Klingon elements as well. The altar and the seating areas were adorned with Klingon var'hama candles, and the altar itself held the ancient Klingon weapon, a ‘yan’, a razor edged sword which would be used in the ceremony. Seven had practiced long and hard to bear the sword properly, so as not to sever any limbs or digits during the wedding.

As Captain, Kathryn presided over the nuptials, and stood in her dress white uniform, awaiting the couple. Kieran had chosen Naomi as her maid of honor, since Kathryn was performing the wedding ritual, and the two joined Kathryn on the sanctuary dais. Kieran was fidgeting, lifting herself up and down on her toes, until Naomi lay a restraining hand on her forearm, trying to settle the counselor’s nerves. A ripple of laughter went through the assembled guests as Naomi stilled her nervous friend. The Counselor blushed, realizing she was bouncing.

"Calm down, Kieran," Naomi whispered. "I promise, if she doesn’t show, I’ll marry you," Naomi teased.

Kieran winked at her. "I’ll hold you to it, Na."

Seven and B'Elanna entered from the other side of the dais, joining Kieran and Naomi. Kieran held out her hands to B'Elanna, who bestowed her bouquet upon Seven of Nine, and the two lovers turned to face Kathryn.

"Friends," Kathryn began, smiling at the couple, but addressing the congregation, "we have gathered today to witness the beginning of a spiritual journey for B'Elanna and Kieran. They have requested your presence for this ceremony, which is their modified interpretation of the traditional Klingon ceremony, " Kathryn explained.

Kathryn began the Klingon ritual:

"With fire and steel did the gods forge the Klingon heart. So fiercely did it beat, so loud was the sound that the gods cried out ‘On this day we have brought forth the strongest heart in all the heavens. None can stand before it without trembling at its strength.’

"But then the Klingon heart weakened, the steady rhythm faltered and the gods asked ‘Why have you weakened so? We have made you the strongest in all of creation.’ And the heart said: ‘I am alone.’

"And the gods knew they had erred, so they went back to their forge and brought forth another heart. The second heart was tempered by wisdom, and it reasoned with the first. ‘If we join together, no force can stop us,’ the second heart declared. And when the two hearts began to beat together, they filled the heavens with a terrible sound.

"To this very day, no one can oppose the beating of a Klingon heart when it joins with another. And so today, a Klingon heart shall beat in rhythm with a human heart, and from this day forward, none shall oppose this union."

Having told the modified story, Kathryn turned to her best friend, preparing to recite the question and answer vows that Kieran and B'Elanna had chosen. Seven went to the altar and removed the Yan, which she carefully placed in Kathryn’s outstretched hands. Kathryn held the razor sharp blade in her upturned palms. Seven then placed B'Elanna’s hand palm down on the long blade. Seven took Kieran’s hand and placed it palm up beneath B'Elanna’s, so that their hands held the blade together.

Kathryn nodded to Seven, and asked:

"Kieran Thompson, have you claimed this woman as your blood bonded mate, and have you taken The Oath?"

"I have," Kieran replied in a booming voice that came out louder than she intended.

"Kieran, does your heart beat only for B'Elanna?"

"Yes," Kieran answered, gazing into B'Elanna’s dark, passionate eyes.

"And do you swear to love her all of your days, with a warrior’s devotion and with honor?" Kathryn’s voice caught on the word ‘honor’. Janeway was struggling with her own sentiments, painfully aware that Seven and she had not so long ago gone through a similar ritual, and now were completely estranged.

"I swear." Kieran’s voice dropped an octave as she pledged herself.

"B'Elanna Torres, have you claimed this woman as your blood bonded mate, and have you taken The Oath?"

"I have," B'Elanna responded in a half whisper.

"B'Elanna , does your heart beat only for Kieran?"

"It does," B'Elanna affirmed.

"And do you swear to love her all of your days, with a warrior’s devotion and with honor?"

"I swear," B'Elanna gazed up at her lover, searching her brown eyes for hesitation, and found

none.

"So it shall be henceforth, until the barge of the dead takes you to the gates of Sto’Vo’Kor," Kathryn declared. "Vaj mamuvchuq," the Captain stated in her best Klingon. "Cha' moj wa'."

Naomi repeated in English: "Thus, we join one another. One becomes two."

"Tuq moj cha', mangghom moj tuqmey."

"Two becomes a household. Houses become armies," Naomi recited.

" Wo' chen mangghommey," Kathryn said with perfect inflection.

"Armies build the empire," Naomi echoed.

"DaHjaj mobHa' tlhIH. DaHjaj tagh wo' ," Kathryn concluded.

"Today, you are un-alone. Today the Empire begins." Naomi smiled up at Kieran, pleased she had remembered each response.

Seven stepped forward, slid the sword from between their palms with great caution, and left the couple holding hands instead of the blade.

Kathryn smiled broadly. "By the power vested in me by the United Federation of Planets, Starfleet Command, and the Klingon High Council, I pronounce you married."

The couple stood staring, neither moving. The crowd stirred, but the mated pair continued to gaze at each other.

Kathryn cleared her throat. The two lovers continued to gaze mutely at one another. "For God’s sake, Kieran, kiss your wife properly," Kathryn prompted her in a fierce whisper.

Kieran obediently wrapped B'Elanna in her arms then, kissing her deeply and tenderly, feeling B'Elanna’s lips open slightly beneath her own. When at last they parted, Kieran rested her forehead against B'Elanna’s, still lost in her eyes. "I love you, ‘Lanna," she said to only her mate.

"And I love you," B'Elanna echoed.

Kathryn stepped around them to address the congregation. "Friends, I present B'Elanna and Kieran Thompson-Torres. The reception will be in Holodeck 2."

The couple stood together still, making no move to leave. The crowd applauded politely, and a cheer of Qapla' rang out. The guests began to head for the exits.

Kathryn rested a gentle hand on Kieran’s back. "Counselor, you’re going to miss your own party."

"You all go ahead without us. We’ll be along in a minute," Kieran murmured, never taking her eyes from B'Elanna’s.

"Don’t be too long," Kathryn chuckled. "Come on Naomi," she took her daughter’s hand and instinctively moved to take Seven’s arm, only to find that Seven was several paces ahead and already exiting the holodeck door.

Kieran waited until they were gone, and gave B'Elanna a small box. "I know it’s not part of the ceremony, but I wanted to give this to you now."

B'Elanna found a gold band ring that she and Kieran had chosen on a recent vacation for the occasion. "Put it on me?" she asked demurely.

Kieran slipped it onto her ring finger. "I hope it’s okay that I wanted you to have this…you don’t object to wearing it? I know it’s not your custom—"

B'Elanna hushed her with a soft kiss. "You wear my mark on your throat. I will wear your ring on my hand. It’s a fair trade. If I had objected, I wouldn’t have helped you look for the right rings."

Kieran quickly undid her top two buttons, baring her throat and the jagged scar left by blood bonding. She reached for B'Elanna’s hand and brought it to her open blouse, pressing two of B'Elanna’s fingers to the raised scar tissue. "I am yours," Kieran whispered fiercely, watching the bloodlust spark in her mate’s dark eyes.

B'Elanna entwined her left hand with Kieran’s right hand, bringing both to rest between their faces, and kissed her gleaming new wedding ring. "And I am yours. Anyone who looks at my hand knows it." Smiling, B'Elanna fished Kieran’s wedding band from an interior pocket of her tunic. "I bet you thought I forgot," she stated flatly, sliding the band onto Kieran’s finger so that it fit snugly against the engagement ring she had given the tall counselor.

B'Elanna lifted her face to claim Kieran’s lips then, lingering over the embrace, exploring her mouth with exquisite tenderness. Kieran’s fingers tangled in B'Elanna’s hair, their kiss deepening gradually, sweetly. When they finally parted, breathless and wishing there weren’t a reception to attend, B'Elanna smiled with unshed tears in her eyes.

"You know," she pointed out to her wife, "If Kathryn and Seven hadn’t married each other, we’d never have met."

"But we met on shore leave," Kieran argued.

"Yes, but we were on shore leave because the ship was in static orbit while the Captain and Seven had their honeymoon. And I was only single because their wedding made me realize that I was missing the boat being with Tom Paris."

Kieran smiled broadly then. "You’re right. It’s like a domino effect. Shall we go thank them for making it possible for us to fall in love?"

"Hardly, considering they aren’t even speaking to each other. Anyway, I’d rather go home with you," B'Elanna flirted.

"’Lanna," Kieran kissed her lovingly, "I’m going to spend the rest of my life making love to you

as often as you want, whenever you want. We can be patient awhile longer, don’t you think?"

"I will try, BangwIj, but you make it difficult to be patient, especially when you kiss me like that."

"Save something for the honeymoon, love. It’s going to be a long, long night," Kieran promised her. "Na is probably ready to come looking for us to cut the wedding cake. Let’s go fulfill our first duties as a married couple." Kieran bent slightly to kiss her wife once more.

B'Elanna smiled into their kiss. "Okay. But only if you promise to get us out of there at the first opportunity."

Kieran kissed her again. "I cross my honorary Klingon heart and hope to die."

"If you were really a Klingon, love, you’d have two hearts. And neither would be that machinery clicking in your chest." B'Elanna referred to the artificial heart Kieran had been given after a Maltanian kidnapper had blasted Kieran’s chest into confetti.

"Even if I were really Klingon, I couldn’t possibly feel any more par’mach for you, ‘Lanna," Kieran promised her tenderly.

B'Elanna’s eyes misted visibly. "You always know how to melt my perfectly glacial exterior, Counselor." She kissed her spouse’s cheek. "Okay. Let’s go show off my new jewelry," she acquiesced, taking Kieran’s hand and leading her to their reception.

_______________

The wedding reception was a splendid affair with buckets of champagne, an elegant buffet, and hours of dancing. Naomi Wildman spent the duration of gala event in a gloomy funk. She watched with envy as Kieran and B'Elanna danced and drank and opened gifts intended to make the transition to their married life easier and more pleasant. She gazed across the crowded reception hall as Kathryn sailed around the room on the arm of Commander Chakotay, who was only too happy to escort the lovely Commanding Officer. Kathryn never looked at Seven, never spoke a word to her. For her part, Seven cast a few lingering glances in her spouse’s direction, and finding the usual solid wall of resistance there, resigned herself to the continued stand off.

When a raven haired Ensign in full dress uniform approached the Borg beauty, Naomi had to restrain herself from shouting the protest that rose to her lips. Rachel McVicker was certainly beautiful, and Naomi had gleaned from the arguments she had overheard that McVicker was at least part of the trouble between Kathryn and Seven. Inwardly, the young girl screamed at her Borg mother and her human mother, but neither seemed to realize exactly what they were doing to themselves, to each other, and to their adopted daughter.

Naomi couldn’t comprehend why no one had done anything about the state of her parents’ relationship. Kieran should have been all over Kathryn to mend the fabric of her relationship with Seven, but the Counselor had been uncharacteristically silent on the matter. Naomi supposed that was what she could expect now that Kieran was married. No one had the time for intervention, and certainly not for Naomi Wildman, insignificant subordinate to everyone on Voyager.

_____________________

Sometime during the party, Voyager docked at a space station orbiting the planet known as Grailen, whose culture and hospitality Neelix had highly recommended. The ship could undergo some much needed maintenance, benefit from a few upgrades, and the crew could replenish supplies and their own morale with some shore leave. Kieran and B'Elanna had planned a two week vacation, the first week a honeymoon. The second week they had planned to spend on a ‘family’ vacation with Kathryn, Seven, and Naomi, but given the ongoing feud between the Borg and the Captain, the newlyweds assumed that the second week of vacation would be cancelled. They were determined not to let the situation deter them from having a wonderful time.

B'Elanna Thompson-Torres shielded her eyes against the afternoon glare dancing on the waves of Axnat beach, a popular vacation spot on the Grailen home world. The ocean drew tourists from all around the sector, and it was always crowded. B'Elanna felt at home on the beach, partly because the warmth suited her Klingon blood, and partly because she had met Kieran on a beach the crew had dubbed "Tampa" on a shore leave about two years before. She had also proposed to Kieran on a holographic beach, so it seemed fitting to honeymoon at the ocean.

"Damn," she muttered to herself. "I wish she wouldn’t go so far out. They have one hell of an undertow out there." She chewed her bottom lip as she watched for the occasional glimpse of her spouse, diving through the churning waves far offshore. Kieran was marvelously athletic, but B'Elanna worried. B'Elanna knew Kieran was a good swimmer, but B'Elanna’s own strength had been challenged by the powerful currents. The cocoa skinned half Klingon grinned ruefully at herself. "Not even six months pregnant, and acting like a mother already," she mused.

She stretched lazily in the sunshine, but kept a watchful eye on the light brown dot that was her wife’s head. She glanced at her finger, adorned in the shining golden band that was identical to Kieran’s. She remembered another day on the beach, a day spent with Tom Paris, the day Kieran had come crashing, literally, into her life and into her person. I had been aching inside for something real, something substantial, and feeling so alone with Tom. I knew there had to be more. Seven and Kathryn were living proof of it. And no sooner did I let myself make the wish, and Kieran was there, the embodiment of the hope. And now she is my mate. Kahless, she is incredible. I don’t think I even had an inkling of what love is until I found her. Oh, Gods, I hope I am enough for her. I pray to be worthy of her devotion. Please, let me be as good a mother as she will be, B'Elanna sent a silent plea to whatever deity might be listening. Her eyes filled with tears as she considered the life resting inside her belly, and she chuckled at her emotional jag. Damned hormones, she complained inwardly.

A long shadow fell over her protruding stomach as Kieran emerged from the ocean to tower over the smaller woman, dripping salt water in cold splatters onto B'Elanna’s copper skin. B'Elanna shrieked and leapt out of her lounge chair.

"Damn it, Counselor," she griped, laughing. "You’re getting me wet!"

Kieran waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "It is our honeymoon, love," she flirted, reaching for her partner and pulling her close for a kiss.

B'Elanna relented easily. "Yes, and I think it’s been entirely too long since I got you wet, as well," she advised the lanky woman amid soft kisses. "I say we go back to the hotel and have an early dinner, in bed."

Kieran’s eyes darkened with desire. "I’m starving," she whispered in B'Elanna’s ear, sending an anticipatory shiver down the Klingon’s muscular back. "And we just have time before we have to contact Kathryn and Seven.

B'Elanna frowned slightly. "Do we have to?"

"Afraid so, BangwIj," Kieran kissed B'Elanna’s ridged forehead tenderly. "If they are still fighting, we are going to have cancel their reservation for next week," she observed. "Today is the last day, or they will lose their deposit."

"True," B'Elanna agreed. Then smiling seductively, she changed the subject. "It is so wonderful to have you to myself, without being hailed or hassled. And I can’t get enough of you, my love. I wonder if we’ll be so eager once the baby is born?"

Kieran laughed softly into B'Elanna’s hair. "We’re eager enough now. I imagine we’ll be moreso once Katie shows up and monopolizes our time."

"Is it too soon? Do you mind having the baby so early on in our marriage?" B'Elanna looked alarmed.

"Of course not, ’Lanna," Kieran assured her, wrapping her in strong arms. "I want this baby as much as you do. I want a family with you. We could have waited, but what are the odds of winning the lottery twice? You’re ready, I’m ready, so now seemed like the right time. And actually, the timing is perfect. Our little girl will grow up with Kathryn and Seven’s little girl. Naomi is almost like our own daughter, too. We’ll just have a very extended family."

B'Elanna sighed with contentment. "It does seem perfect this way, BangwIj," she decided. "Katie and Gretchen can be playmates, and it’ll be like they each have five mothers, including Naomi."

"Six, if you count Neelix," Kieran corrected her.

B'Elanna smiled. "Well, okay, but if he starts trying to give Katie pointers on fashion, that’s where I draw the line."

"The master of the schizophrenic wardrobe. That’s Neelix. Color combinations only a psychotic mind would come up with."

B'Elanna swatted her playfully. "Is that your professional opinion?"

Kieran drew B'Elanna’s arm through her own and started toward the hotel. "Nope. Personal."

"You know, I never expected to be at this place, not so soon. Married, pregnant—"

"Are you sorry, BangwIj?" Kieran asked with concern coloring her tone. "It happened pretty quickly, especially considering how long you were lovers with Tom."

B'Elanna squeezed her arm. "No, I’m not sorry. Just surprised. But very, very happy," she smiled up at the taller woman. "I love you, you know."

The counselor stooped to kiss her briefly. "I love you too."

________________

It was unfortunate that Kieran and B'Elanna’s honeymoon week coincided with the worst spell of fighting between the Captain and Seven. After the incident with Naomi’s illness, Seven had tried to work out a tentative truce with Kathryn, but had no more than started to discuss the terms of her return to their joint living quarters when the subject of the upcoming vacation on Grailen came up, and sent them into another bout of arguing. Kathryn had still not apologized to Seven, and Seven felt if she gave in to Kathryn’s irrational refusal to admit how wrong she was, it would result in a permanent imbalance of power in their marriage. While Seven could tolerate being Kathryn’s subordinate outside of their quarters, she did not intend to be anything less than Kathryn’s equal in their home.

If Kieran and B'Elanna had been on the ship, Naomi would undoubtedly have turned to them for help and consolation. In their absence, she felt totally abandoned, and having had all she could stand, she decided to leave Voyager once and for all. She considered leaving a note, but was so angry with her mothers, she couldn’t form the words. Since everyone was coming and going during shore leave, the transporter attendant thought nothing of sending the young girl to the planet’s surface.

Naomi did want to see Kieran one last time, and promptly found the hotel where she and B'Elanna were staying. But the couple had unwittingly placed a privacy seal on their suite, intending only to block the hotel staff from disturbing them, and inadvertently prevented Naomi from contacting them. Discouraged, Naomi left only a terse message with the front desk clerk:

Kieran:

Stopped by to see you, but you weren’t available. I am going to miss you. All the best to you and B'Elanna.

Your friend,

Naomi Wildman

She shouldered her backpack, made her way into the bowels of the city where she sold her comm badge for local currency, and with every intention of disappearing for good, she proceeded to start her new life.

______________

Grailen’s largest resort area also boasted some of the sector’s most amazing attractions that had nothing to do with the beach, and Naomi Wildman intended to see them all. She had ended up with quite a bit of currency, since the comm badge had a considerable amount of precious metal in it, and with the maps and brochures from the family vacation that never materialized, she set out to see the city. Her first day, she visited the Zoo, a gargantuan park that contained animals from all over the Delta Quadrant. Naomi thought about her real mother, who would have loved the diversity of the species kept there. She walked for hours through the exhibits, fed a couple of the inhabitants, watched the various families that were visiting the park, and wished Mezoti could see the creatures with her. When the dual suns of Grailen began the slow descent into the northern sea, Naomi realized she had no place to go. She tried not to panic, and followed the crowds moving en masse to the exits.

A local family leaving the park noticed the young alien, who appeared to be lost. The largest family member approached her and asked if she needed help, but Naomi lied and said her mother worked at the Zoo, and she had simply lost track of her in the throng of visitors. They seemed to accept her explanation and bid her farewell.

As darkness fell over the city, Naomi Wildman searched for a place to sleep. The weather was mild, and she was grateful not to need a jacket, because she hadn’t brought one with her. She stopped at a restaurant outside the park, ate some sort of noodle casserole looking dish, and sat there wondering where she could go. Outside the streets were filled with tourists, still shopping and sight seeing, and she smiled. It would be easy to blend in here. No one would ever figure out she was a runaway. No one would ever find her.

______________

While Naomi Wildman was blithely touring the zoo on Grailen, Kathryn was breaking the news to her best friend that the family vacation had been cancelled.

"I’m sorry too, Kieran," Kathryn was saying over the video comm link. "Naomi was terribly disappointed, but right now, things just aren’t conducive to a family vacation."

"I see," Kieran crossed her arms, obviously losing patience with her best friend. "So you and Seven are finished, then."

Kathryn blanched. "Of course not. I didn’t say that, Counselor."

"It wasn’t a question, Kathryn, it was an observation," Kieran said softly.

"Well it’s not an accurate observation. We are having a minor disagreement. That doesn’t mean our marriage is finished," Kathryn sounded as if she wanted to convince herself as much as Kieran.

Kieran snorted. "I’d hardly call her moving out a minor disagreement. It’s been over a month since this mess started. One of you is going to have to apologize, eventually, and every day that passes makes it less likely either of you ever will. For God’s sake, Kathryn, wake up! You are doing tremendous damage to your relationship, and to your family. Don’t you get that?"

Janeway set her jaw in defiance, a very bad sign. "What I ‘get’, Counselor, is that you are supposed to be on your honeymoon, not meddling in my marriage," she enunciated each word with a warning tone.

Kieran sighed. "Kat—please, don’t get defensive. You’ve told me that I’m your best friend, that you rely on me for advice and to keep you grounded. As your friend, I’m trying to do you a favor. You know I love you. You know I would never do anything to jeopardize our friendship. But I’m telling you for your own good, you have got to let this go. Apologize to her, damn it. She is as faithful as the day is long, and Rachel McVicker couldn’t tempt Seven away in a million years. You’re being childish and stubborn. And you’re going to lose her if you keep it up."

Kathryn steeled herself against the pleading face that implored her to be reasonable. "I suppose you didn’t notice Seven dancing with McVicker at your wedding reception," she shot back.

Exasperated, Kieran’s color started to rise in her cheeks. "I don’t suppose she noticed you dancing with Chakotay, either," she said pointedly.

"That’s different. Chakotay is a very old, very dear friend."

"Right. A friend who would hop into bed with you if you gave him the slightest indication of interest, Kathryn. Not so different from Rachel McVicker, really."

Janeway flinched. "You don’t know what you’re talking about, Kieran."

"Okay. I’m a moron, already. If I so completely lack insight, why did you make me your ship’s counselor?" she asked petulantly.

"Right now, I’m asking myself that very question," Kathryn replied icily. "Janeway out."

As the image of her Captain blinked out, B'Elanna slipped her arms around her wife. "That went well," she opined sarcastically.

Kieran’s shoulders slumped. "She is blowing it, ‘Lanna. If it were me, I’d have left her already."

"Me too," B'Elanna agreed. "But Seven is as stubborn and tenacious as Janeway herself. She won’t give up without a fight. Let them work it out, honey. You tried, and it didn’t help."

Kieran turned to face her beloved. "Well, I’ll let it go for now. But when we get back, I’m going to light into her."

"And I’ll do the same with Seven. I just hope Naomi is okay. She hasn’t felt well lately, and I just know it’s because those two are fighting," B'Elanna mentioned with genuine concern.

Kieran’s conscience stung her. "I didn’t even know. God, some friend I am. I just got so busy—"

"Hey, BangwIj, you don’t need to tell me. I know. We were both crazed for the past three weeks. And ultimately, this is their family’s problem, not ours."

Kieran started to argue, but B'Elanna touched her lips with a restraining finger. "Okay," she acquiesced. "It’s not our problem. At least not until we get back to the ship."

"Agreed," B'Elanna kissed her to end the discussion.

Hours later, lying in the darkness, Kieran held B'Elanna possessively, and contemplated just how fragile love could be. She closed her eyes against the pain that the mere thought of losing B'Elanna brought crashing over her. B'Elanna dozed peacefully in the embrace of her life partner, oblivious to the war of emotion coursing through Kieran’s restlessness. Repeatedly, Kieran kissed her lover’s hair, wanting to absorb the very essence of the woman, wanting to own it and cherish it and protect it. Her heart ached for Kathryn and Seven, for the emptiness that had been wrought by their foolishness. She silently vowed never to refuse to apologize to B'Elanna, no matter what the circumstances. It mattered little who was right or wrong when there was no one left to argue the point with.

B'Elanna stirred momentarily, nuzzled Kieran’s cheek with gentle lips, and sighed. "You can’t sleep because you’re worried about them," she stated matter-of-factly.

Kieran squeezed her. "I’m sorry. I should forget about it, and concentrate on us."

Chuckling knowingly, B'Elanna raised herself up on one hand, peering down at her spouse. "You wouldn’t be you if you could shut off your feelings, BangwIj. Part of the reason I love you so is that you care deeply for others. So look, why don’t you contact the ship. Invite Naomi down for a day with us—"

"But ‘Lanna, it’s our honeymoon—" Kieran started to protest.

"Just call her, Counselor. First thing in the morning. You won’t enjoy our time together until you know, at least, that Naomi is okay. We can worry about the bigger kids later," she joked.

Kieran kissed her passionately then. "You are my heart, B'Elanna Thompson-Torres. What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"You don’t," B'Elanna teased, tickling Kieran’s ribs lightly, making her squeal. "Remember that, and we’ll be fine."

Kieran smiled and hugged her closer. "I won’t forget, love," she whispered sincerely.

____________

Naomi Wildman wandered through the city until most of the tourists had retired to their hotels for the night. Exhausted but firm in her resolve, she went to the park to search for shelter. The temperature had fallen slightly, and she wished she had thought to bring heavier clothing. She did bring a towel, as she had intended to go to the beach—in fact, she had hoped to talk Kieran and B'Elanna into taking her there, maybe confide in them and enlist their support, but since she hadn’t connected with them at the hotel, she had abandoned that faint hope. She found some sort of playing field inside the park, with what she suspected was the rough approximation of a baseball diamond, and went inside one of the "dugouts". She found a wide bench, stretched out, and pulled her towel out of her small backpack. She wrapped herself up in the terry cloth and instantly fell asleep.

Her dreams were scattered snatches of disquieting nightmares. In one, she was discovered sleeping in the park by the Grailen authorities, in the next, she awoke surrounded by Hirogen, in another, she was back on Voyager and being told by Tuvok she had to leave the ship since the Captain and Seven had their own baby now. The dreams were filled with images of being chased and discovered as a runaway by shadowy figures that immediately returned her to Janeway.

She woke up repeatedly, every time with her heart pounding and racing in a panic attack. Each time, she had to calm herself again, reassure herself she was fine, convince herself to go back to sleep. When the first sun of the Grailen homeworld peeked over the horizon, Naomi Wildman gave up on sleeping, and watched the sunsrise with a heavy heart. She didn’t miss home, not the way it was now, anyway. But she missed the way it used to be, when Seven and Kathryn still loved her and each other. She had done her best. She had begged Kathryn to make Seven come home, and Kathryn had refused. Even when Naomi had pleaded, saying that if Kathryn loved Naomi, she would order Seven to come home, Kathryn had still refused. Apparently, Kathryn loved being right more than she loved Naomi. Unacceptable, Naomi heard Seven saying in her mind. Agreed, Naomi replied to the voice.

_______________

Captain Kathryn Janeway had spent the day going over departmental reports. She had been in such a foul mood since her argument with Naomi earlier in the day, she felt it fitting to punish herself with the dreaded ‘paperwork’. Naomi had nagged Kathryn to resolve her differences with Seven, and Kathryn had tired of the discussion rapidly, finally telling Naomi to mind her own business and to drop the subject immediately. The mind numbing tedium of the work kept Kathryn from thinking any further about the matter, and it was very late when she returned to her quarters.

She expected that Naomi was in bed, and decided not to disturb her, though she did feel a need to apologize to her for being so impatient. She tiptoed down the corridor, tripped the automatic door sensor, and stuck her head into the dark room. The bed was still made. Naomi’s closet stood ajar, with the usual semi-neatly ordered clothing and personal items obviously rifled through and picked over. Kathryn had a very bad feeling.

"Computer, locate Naomi Wildman."

"Naomi Wildman is not aboard Voyager."

"Janeway to Seven of Nine."

"Yes Captain," Seven responded.

"Seven, have you seen Naomi this evening?" Kathryn tried to hide her fear.

"Naomi is not with me. It is past her bedtime. Isn’t she at home?"

"No. She hasn’t come home."

"I am on my way. Seven out."

_________________

Kieran Thompson-Torres was barely awake, hair tousled and tangled from the midnight’s lovemaking. She was struggling to understand what Kathryn was trying to tell her.

"Missing?" she pinched the bridge of her nose, a gesture she had inadvertently picked up from Janeway. "You mean she ran away from home?"

"Apparently," Janeway muttered. "She hasn’t tried to contact you?"

Kieran glanced over at a worried B'Elanna. "Honey, contact the front desk and see if we have any messages."

B'Elanna went to the comm panel and hailed the desk clerk. She got a print out from the unit, and handed it to Kieran.

"Damn it!" Kieran swore. "She was here, Kathryn, but we had a privacy seal—oh, shit, I’m so sorry."

"Perfectly understandable Counselor," Kathryn waved away Kieran’s self-recrimination. "You are entitled to privacy on your honeymoon," Janeway assured her. "I wouldn't be surprised if Naomi tries to get in contact with you again, however, so if you wouldn't mind--"

"Say no more," Kieran assured her kindly. "We'll remove the privacy seal immediately. In the meantime, how can we help?"

Janeway's eyes softened perceptibly. "I'm not really sure," she admitted. "Tuvok is organizing his security staff and groups of volunteers into search teams so we can make an orderly sweep of the city. But I think it's most prudent for you to stay there on the chance that Naomi might contact you."

Kieran frowned. "Only one of us needs to stay at the hotel in case she shows up," Kieran and B'Elanna exchanged meaningful glances. "I'm beaming aboard immediately, Kathryn, so I can have Tuvok assign me to a search party."

Seven stepped into view. "That's not necessary, Counselor," she began.

"It is for me," Kieran insisted.

"Me too," B'Elanna added from beside her spouse.

"Thank you both. Kieran, I will see you shortly. B'Elanna, if she contacts you, please--" Janeway couldn't finish her sentence, she was so overcome with fear.

"I'll hail you immediately, of course," she promised. "It will be okay, Kathryn. We'll find her."

"Let's hope so," Janeway added grimly.

______________

Rachel McVicker hastily loaded her backpack with supplies, attached her sleeping bag to the pack, changed into her hiking boots, and jogged to the transporter room. She had volunteered to join the search and rescue mission, and she and Commander Chakotay were the designated team to scour Kantus Canyon, a popular recreation area among visitors to Grailen.

Janeway was not surprised that Chakotay readily joined the mission, but she was astonished that Ensign McVicker threw her name into the fray, considering how badly Janeway had treated her. Janeway only momentarily considered that McVicker might be trying to impress Seven of Nine with some noble gesture. She forced herself to give the Ensign the benefit of the doubt.

The outpouring of concern from the crew was overwhelming, in and of itself. The entire complement of the ship was actively engaged in the search for Naomi Wildman, and no one had hesitated. In fact, Janeway hadn't even needed to ask for assistance--the offers of help had come like an avalanche. The tourist area of Grailen was already crowded with Starfleet officers, carrying PADDs with Naomi's holo-photo which they showed to anyone who would speak to them. The Grailen authorities were quick to assist, since they didn't want any bad publicity about children becoming lost on their planet. As much as Naomi wanted to stay hidden, she didn't stand a chance, if only she were still okay.

___________________

"I have failed," Icheb declared, almost disbelieving the possibility.

"It is not your fault," Seven assured him. "I am also at a loss."

It seemed like a simple matter, to use the same technique to isolate Naomi Wildman’s biosignature as Seven had employed when Naomi was kidnapped by Maltanians. However, in that instance, her biosignature had been wholly unique, easy to detect and easy to locate. On Grailen, there were multiple species with similar patterns, and try though they might, Icheb and Seven could not figure out a way to isolate Naomi’s patterns from everyone else’s.

"Don’t lose heart," Janeway put a consoling arm around the young man’s shoulders. "It was a very difficult project. The search parties will find her," she tried to sound confident.

"But I have failed," he repeated, a look of horror spreading over his features. "I have failed you, I have failed Seven, I have failed in my duty, and as Naomi’s friend," he insisted.

"Icheb, you are no longer Borg. You will fail, from time to time," Seven gentled her tone from it’s usual no-nonsense harshness. "There is no shame in that. Let us turn our efforts to assist the search parties."

"No," Janeway intervened. "Icheb needs to regenerate. And so do you, Seven."

Seven turned abruptly to face her spouse. "I have no intention of sleeping while our daughter is traipsing around alone on an alien world, Kathryn."

Seeing another potential argument about to break out, Janeway backed down immediately. "Okay, but Icheb needs to get some rest," she would not lose the battle entirely, she decided. "When your regeneration cycle is complete, you may join a search party, if you like," she added for his benefit.

"I would prefer to join one now, Captain," he began to argue.

"Sorry. That’s an order," Janeway smiled sympathetically. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with Tuvok."

"I shall accompany you," Seven offered. "Icheb, thank you for your efforts. Have a good rest."

Icheb nodded curtly and headed for Cargo Bay 2.

___________________

The first day of the search ended in frustration for the crew. No one had caught so much as a glimpse of the too-clever-for-her-own-good K’Tarian. Tuvok recalled the parties that had been planetside the longest, ordering them to get four hours of sleep before reporting back to duty. He began to stagger the available teams, so that the crew would not succumb to exhaustion and become sloppy in their endeavors.

Kieran went back to the hotel, where B’Elanna had waited anxiously for any word of Naomi’s whereabouts. When Kieran returned without any hopeful news, the two women collapsed on their bed, too drawn and frightened to even speculate about where Naomi might be. They clung to each other, falling into a troubled sleep, plagued by anxious dreams and misgivings.

Back on Voyager, Kathryn and Seven ate a silent meal together for the first time in weeks, each making an occasional abortive attempt to discuss what had happened between them, and what they needed to do to mend fences.

"I never should have let it go on for so long, Seven," Kathryn finally admitted. "I knew in my heart that you never did anything with Rachel McVicker, but here I am, bloated and unattractive, and feeling older than God, and she is so young and pretty and enamored with you—it just made me lose my head."

Seven laid down her fork, as if to focus all her energy upon her reply. "You could never be unattractive in my estimation, Kathryn. Do you not understand that on the most basic instinctual level? We are life partners. I meant it when I promised my faithfulness to you," she grasped her spouse’s delicate hand in her larger, more powerful one. "I was so incensed that you could even entertain such a notion for a nanosecond, I could barely see straight."

"I know. I’m sorry, and I don’t mean to excuse my behavior, but I really and truly believe that part of my actions are due to my condition."

Seven repressed a bolt of cold fury as she forced her voice to calmness and asked "Then why wouldn’t you see the Doctor when I asked you to?"

"I don’t know," Kathryn toyed with her food. "I guess because I’m a starship captain. I think I should be able to control myself regardless of my health. It’s a matter of self-discipline."

"That is ridiculous, Kathryn. A medical condition can hardly be controlled through will alone. When my body rejected my cortical implant, would you have merely admonished me to get hold of myself?"

"Of course not. But—"

Seven smiled faintly. "But pregnancy is somehow less a medical condition?"

Kathryn frowned. She didn’t want to lose the argument but she knew she couldn’t win it, either. "I suppose not. And I promise, I will see the Doctor as soon as we find Naomi. But I need to know, Seven, can we work this out between us? Can you truly forgive me and come home again, after everything that’s happened?"

The statuesque young woman’s features remained impassive, though her tones were rich and warm. "I love you, Kathryn Janeway. I never stopped, and never will. I can forgive you, if you promise never to repeat this hurtful, irrational behavior. I will try to put it behind us, as Kieran says, if you will try."

"Agreed," Kathryn nodded, afraid she would lose her tentative hold on her emotions if they continued in this vein of discussion. "I think we should finish dinner, and get some sleep. Our search party leaves in six hours."

Seven pushed her food around on her plate with disinterest. "Kathryn," she began, her voice shaking slightly, "I—am frightened. Naomi is so vulnerable—" she couldn’t complete the thought.

"I know darling," Janeway took her hand. "I’m scared too. And not very hungry," she tried to smile at the mound of uneaten food on her plate.

"Neither am I," Seven admitted. She stood to remove the plates and dumped them in the recycling unit. "Let’s just try to get some sleep."

Long after the lights were dimmed, the two women lay awake, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Their minds assaulted them with images of every possible accident, tragedy, and injury that could befall their wayward daughter, and before long, their stomachs were churning with worry. Kathryn’s eyes filled with frightened tears, and as they slid from the corners of her eyes, she found herself wrapped up in Seven’s embrace, where finally, gratefully, she felt safe enough to sleep.

_____________

Naomi Wildman brushed her hair with consummate relief at being clean again, after sleeping in the park the night before. The hot springs along the Kantus trail were a welcome discovery to the young girl, who gratefully soaked the stiffness from her body and scrubbed the dirt from her limbs. She found a changing station where she dried her bathing suit, recycled her clothes, and put on a fresh outfit. She assumed that by now, Janeway had sent security to find her, and she decided to disguise herself as best she could. She used the scissors from her utility kit and cut her hair short, tucked it up under an old baseball hat Kieran had given her, and put on sunglasses. She wore nothing and carried nothing that would identify her as Starfleet. Later in the afternoon, as she left the recreation area, she spotted Commander Chakotay and Ensign McVicker coming down the trail. She ducked behind some rocks and waited for them to pass.

"I think the springs are up ahead--" Chakotay checked his tricorder. "Yes, less than a quarter of a mile."

"How far does the canyon trail go after that?" McVicker stopped along side him, put her hand on his arm to steady the device, and glanced at the readout. She whistled appreciatively. "If Naomi hiked that far, Chakotay, I'm enlisting her for my Grand Canyon holodeck program," she commented.

"If the Captain doesn't kill her," Chakotay joked.

Naomi held her breath as she listened intently.

"Well, the Captain doesn't deserve this grief, but you have to admit, this ridiculous fight between her and Seven has to be the reason Naomi left," Rachel noted.

"I'm sure it is. Too bad Naomi doesn't know that her running away got them talking again. Did you notice?"

"I noticed that Janeway didn't let go of Seven's hand during the entire mission briefing. And poor Seven looked like she had been crying for days on end," Rachel added, pity coloring her voice. "I swear, Chakotay, if I had a partner that brilliant and beautiful, I'd never stay mad at her."

Chakotay chuckled softly. "That's how I feel about Kathryn. Come on, we're losing daylight, Ensign."

"Yes sir!" Rachel saluted with a facetious grin.

Huddled behind the rocky overhang beside the trail, Naomi lingered, thinking about what she had heard. Seven and the Captain, back together? Right, like that will last. I'll no sooner go back and they'll start up fighting again. The strawberry blonde, freshly shorn child sighed. I don't trust them to behave like adults, she decided. Though she did feel awfully bad about making Seven cry.

She took off her cap and fanned herself. The humidity was intense along the canyon's edge, probably due to the underground springs that ran the expanse of the area. She glanced at the hat, an ancient relic from Kieran's academy days, worn and faded, but cherished. She remembered the day Kieran gave it to her, the casualness of the gesture, as if the memento had meant nothing to the Counselor at all. Naomi had known then that Kieran treasured that hat, despite her air of indifference at parting with it. She knew because Kieran only wore it on days when she felt depressed, and the rest of the time, she kept it in a glass case in her quarters, sealed away from the atmosphere of the ship. When Naomi had noticed it in its place of honor, she had demanded to know why Kieran didn't simply recycle the shabby piece of memorabilia. Kieran had been appalled at the suggestion.

One day, Kieran had been wearing it, which signaled to anyone that knew her that she was in a bad mood. Naomi pretended not to notice her foul demeanor, and after an hour or so walking in the arboretum, she had managed to get Kieran laughing again. She had grinned mischievously at her then, swiped the hat, and put it on, saying "I earned this. And you can't wear it anymore today, because you're not depressed now."

Kieran had laughed at her friend, but when they arrived back at Naomi's quarters, and she removed it to return it to the doe-eyed counselor, Kieran just grinned and put it back on Naomi. "You're right, you earned it," she said, kissing Naomi's cheek.

Naomi had worn that silly hat nonstop for a month after that, except when she was on duty. She would sometimes hold it to her nose, taking in the faint scent of her lanky friend. She removed it now, and sniffed lightly at the brim, catching that familiar aroma that lingered in the fabric. Before she knew it, she was crying. She missed Kieran already.

_______________

Tom Paris and Harry Kim opted to remain in the city despite the darkness and their exhaustion. Tom had been a troubled youth himself, and he felt a kindred bond with Naomi Wildman. He felt certain if anyone on the ship could find her, he could. Harry was just so anxious to do anything to help, he went along with Tom’s plan.

"If it were me, I’d be sleeping somewhere that was deserted at night. No chance of being discovered by a random passerby," Tom explained. "That park had a few places that would be suitable. There was a shelter house in the picnic grounds. I say we go there first." The fair haired helmsman needed the mental diversion of this search, since his ego was still smarting from the recent wedding of his exlover, B'Elanna Torres, to the ship’s counselor.

"Good idea," Harry agreed. "It’s getting late, so she has probably settled down someplace for the night." Harry kept his eyes darting around them, hoping for a glimpse of the slight body of his friend. "I just can’t help thinking how dangerous it is for her to be alone down here," he shook his head, his voice rough with emotion.

"She’s smart, Harry," Tom slapped him on the back companionably. "She can take care of herself. Don’t let yourself get scared," Tom advised him. "There’s the park. We’re going to have to climb the gate. Up for it?"

Harry grinned. "I’ll race you," he tried to sound cheerful.

_____________

"Chakotay, watch out for that drop off," Rachel McVicker warned her superior officer. She tossed him a wrist lamp. "Use it, or I’ll be rescuing you instead of the kid," she joked.

"I’m a seasoned outdoorsman, McVicker," he bitched, his pride wounded. "I think I can handle taking a leak in the woods." He made his way from their makeshift campsite to a secluded area where he relieved himself. As he crept back through the forest, he ventured too close to the edge of the cliff and the loamy earth crumbled beneath his right foot. "FUCK!" he shouted, clawing at the air and finding purchase at the base of a thorny bush. "MCVICKER!"

Rachel came crashing through the underbrush, rope in hand. Seeing she didn’t need it, she planted both her boots against a boulder, grabbed a tree trunk with one hand and with the other reached for Chakotay. "Okay, Mr. Seasoned Outdoorsman, take my hand," she teased him.

Chakotay gave her a withering look. "Pull," was all he said as he scrambled up the side of the cliff. When they were both upright again, he winced with pain. "I think I broke my ankle," he admitted.

Rachel put an arm around him. "Lean on me, and we’ll get you back to the ship."

"But what if Naomi—" he protested.

"Chakotay, we practically ran down the trail for hours. There’s no way she could’ve made it as far as we did. No way. She is not on this trail. You need medical treatment," she argued.

Chakotay hesitated, but knew he was defeated. His ankle was already swollen to the point that the doctor would have to cut his boot off. "Okay." He hailed the ship and they beamed out, Rachel leaving him to advise Tuvok of their attempt. Tuvok agreed that Naomi could not have been further along the trail, and agreed to let Rachel hike it again the next day.

"So did anyone get any leads?" Rachel asked the dark skinned Vulcan hopefully.

"We had a restaurant worker who identified Naomi’s picture," Tuvok offered without emotion. "However, she ate there yesterday, and no one else we’ve interviewed since has seen her. But at least we know that she was alive and well last night. And she somehow procured the currency of Grailen, so she has money. She has not gone hungry."

"That’s something," Rachel agreed half-heartedly. "I better go check on the Commander."

"Thank you, Ensign. You’re dismissed," Tuvok stated formally.

Chakotay was more than a little embarrassed over his mishap, but Rachel decided not to annihilate his pride any more than it had been damaged already. "Hey," she greeted him as he sat on a biobed, leg outstretched. "How’s the ankle?"

"Shattered," the Doctor answered for the Commander. "Into too many fragments to count. But thanks to my handiwork, it will be good as new in a moment." He adjusted the bone-knitter settings. "You know, I can’t tell you how glad I am to treat a patient for something besides false labor and morning sickness," he chirped happily.

Chakotay tried to smile, but his face was white with agony. Rachel was startled by how bad he looked. "Doc," she snapped, "didn’t you give him anything for the pain?"

"What? Oh, heavens," the Doctor slammed the bone knitter down and loaded a hypospray. "Sorry, Commander. I’m so used to treating women who don’t want to take anything that might interfere with their pregnancy, I forgot you aren’t pregnant." He pressed the device to Chakotay’s neck, and as the Commander passed out into Rachel’s arms, he shook his head. "He could have asked for something," the Doctor complained.

Rachel eased Chakotay down to the biobed. She smiled when he roused a bit. "You okay, Chakotay?"

"Yes, thank you. So what’s the status of the search?"

"Not much to tell. There was one Naomi sighting yesterday. That’s all."

"Damn," Chakotay muttered.

"Damn is right," the Doctor agreed. "If anything happens to that child, the Captain will never forgive herself."

Rachel bit her lip. "And neither will Seven."

"What’s worse," Chakotay agreed, "is they will never forgive each other."

____________

Kieran Thompson and Noah Lessing had been to every eating establishment in a two mile area that night. The restaurants were starting to close, and still, no one had seen Naomi.

"Damn it, Naomi," Kieran muttered as she walked. "You have to eat sometime!"

Noah Lessing, a former member of the Equinox crew that had been forced to come aboard Voyager in disgrace, rubbed his close cropped hair. "When I was a kid, I wouldn’t have gone to these restaurants, Counselor. I’d have looked for junk food. Ice cream, pizza, burgers, that sort of stuff."

Kieran considered. "Okay. Where would you get junk food in a place like Grailen?"

Lessing stopped in his tracks. "At an arcade. That’s where. I saw one a few blocks back. Let’s go," he broke into a run.

Kieran was hot on his heels. Please, please, please, she prayed. Be there, sweetie.

Sure enough, two boys recognized Naomi’s picture. She had been there an hour or so before Kieran and Noah arrived. As Kieran nearly hugged the daylights out of him, Noah slapped his comm badge and reported to Tuvok, who transported all available team members to a mile wide perimeter around the arcade. They started at the edge and worked their way inward, hoping to close the circle like a net around prey.

The streets outside the park were dark and silent, and Naomi Wildman’s feet were tired and aching as she moved inconspicuously along the footpaths. She found the break in the fence where she had entered the night before, and slipped through. She could smell the wet dirt of the playing field as she walked through the damp air.

Inside the ‘dugout’, Tom Paris waited in the shadows. Tom and Harry had waited for Naomi the night before at the shelter house, and since she had not materialized, they decided the deserted sports field was the next most likely place to find her. Harry Kim lay on the roof of the structure, as Tom had instructed him. If Naomi came inside, Harry would drop from the roof to block the door, and Tom would grab her.

Noah Lessing and Kieran Thompson were closing in on the park when Kieran spotted the familiar blue of her baseball cap bobbing along in the moonlight. She grabbed Noah’s arm to halt him, and pointed. "What do we do?" he whispered. "Do we call out to her?"

Kieran scaled the fence and helped Noah over. "NAOMI!" she shouted across the grassy expanse. "I can see you. Please, sweetie, it’s Kieran. Come talk to me!"

Kieran was shocked when Naomi sprinted in the opposite direction, headed toward the ‘dugout’. "Shit!" was all she said as Noah darted after the girl, Kieran right beside him.

"I don’t think she wants to be found, Counselor," he panted as they ran. "And I don’t see her, do you?"

Kieran glanced wildly around, the baseball hat no longer in view. "Oh, God," she doubled over, hands on her knees. "We almost had her. Report to the ship," she gasped.

Suddenly, fifty of Voyager’s crew were in the area, materializing in a blue flash in groups of five. "She was only a few meters away," Kieran explained.

With fifty wrist lamps illuminating the park, there wasn’t much left to the darkness, and when the Grailen city officials got the communiqué from Voyager, they immediately turned the park lights on. Kieran spotted Naomi heading for a small building and she tore out after the runaway.

Unfortunately, the lights shone on Harry Kim as he perched atop the ‘dugout’ and Naomi veered away at the last minute, running as hard as she could. Tom Paris was out the door and after her, though, and in a matter of seconds, had her in his grasp, though she continued to struggle to break free. He gathered her by the shoulders and shook her. "Stop it!" he shouted. "It’s over, Naomi," he wrapped his arms around her. "It’s over. It’s okay," he tried to comfort her.

"No it’s not," she blubbered. "Please Tom, don’t make me go back, don’t make me," she was near hysteria.

Tom saw Kieran dashing across the lawn, and turned Naomi to face the approaching woman. "This is your department, Kieran," he said with obvious relief at her arrival.

Kieran snatched the diminutive K’Tarian up in her arms and held her so tightly, she thought she heard bones crunch. "Oh God, you scared me," she breathed in sobs. "Oh Naomi, why?"

"Please, Kieran," Naomi begged, "don’t make me go back. I want to live with you. I can’t live with Kathryn anymore. I can’t stand having Seven gone. I can’t stand it," she clutched at the distraught Counselor’s shirt. "Please, Kieran, can I stay with you and ‘Lanna?"

The desperation in Naomi’s voice tore at Kieran’s heart. "Sweetie," she held on even tighter, fearing the child would vanish into thin air, "I promise you things will be okay. If Seven and Kathryn can’t work out their differences, you can live with me. I promise."

"You do?" Naomi sounded skeptical. "Honest?"

Kieran fixed her with an indignant look. "Have I ever lied to you, Naomi Wildman?"

"N-no," she sniffled.

"And I’m not about to start now. Let’s get you home, before Kathryn has a stroke. Kahless and all the Prophets, Na, do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused? How terribly you frightened us all?"

However, Kathryn and Seven had transported to the park area as soon as the word had come that Naomi was found, and before Kieran could give the order to send them back to the ship, she heard a frantic voice.

"Naomi!" Kathryn shouted as she jogged, pregnant though she was, as quickly as she could, toward the two women and Tom Paris. Seven was running beside her, and they converged on Kieran and Naomi in a fierce tangle of arms and legs. Everyone was crying, even Tom, though he tried to hide it. He reported to Tuvok that the runaway had been secured and that the transporter crew could start beaming everyone back to the ship.

The Captain, Seven, Kieran, and Naomi were left alone in the park as the blue transporter beam whisked away the last of the search parties. Naomi crossed her arms defiantly, chin jutting out, as she faced her mothers. "I don’t want to live with you anymore," she announced. "I’m tired of all the fighting, and the stupid excuses, and of being sick to my stomach all the time. My mom trusted you guys to take care of me, and you can’t even take care of each other," she pointed out. "I want to live with Kieran and B'Elanna. They love each other. They don’t fight. They come home at night. Nobody sleeps in the Cargo Bay, and they won’t act like it doesn’t matter when I’m miserable. I want a divorce from you," Naomi decided.

Kathryn looked thoroughly ashamed of herself, as did Seven of Nine. It was Seven who finally spoke.

"Naomi Wildman," she said in her Borg-speak, "you are justified in being disgusted with us. And you may divorce us if you wish," she said sadly. "However," she continued after a lengthy pause, "Kathryn and I would like you to reconsider. We promise not to fight in front of you ever again. And when we do disagree, we promise that we will both come home at night, and resolve any disagreements together. Is that acceptable?"

Naomi glanced at Kieran for guidance. "Well, I don’t know—are you still mad at each other?"

Kathryn chimed in. "No. We have settled our differences. We love you, Naomi. Please, come home with us."

"And you still love each other, not just me?" Naomi wasn’t taking any chances.

Kathryn took Seven’s hands and gazed directly into her ice blue eyes. "I love you Seven. I’m sorry for everything. I still want to be with you. Will you forgive me?"

"Of course," Seven agreed. "And I love you, as well. I have never wanted anything but to be with you. And I am also sorry I let this go on as long as it did. Will you forgive me?"

"Always," Kathryn said emphatically. She turned to Naomi. "See? Everything is going to work out. But if you divorce Seven and I, it will ruin everything. We will never get over it. And Gretchen won’t have a big sister. So, please, come home with us?"

Naomi felt she was truly being given the choice. Like an equal partner in the family relationship. "If I go home with you, and Kieran tells you in the future you need to go to counseling, will you promise to do it, and not break her door?"

Seven grinned ruefully. "I promise."

"Me too," Kathryn agreed.

"And I will hold you to it," Kieran said firmly. It was clear she was still peeved with them, but she would get over it. "And my first recommendation is that we take that family vacation together, starting tomorrow. That way, Naomi, you’ll have B'Elanna and I right there with you, until you learn to trust Kathryn and Seven again." She squeezed Naomi’s shoulder encouragingly. "Is that good enough?"

"Okay," Naomi finally gave in. "But only if you and B'Elanna will be there too."

"You have my word as an honorary Klingon," Kieran teased. She held out her hand to her friend. "Transport back with me?"

"Acceptable," Naomi replied.

"Voyager," Janeway slapped her comm badge, "four to beam up."

_______________

Epilogue

Seven of Nine, formerly the tertiary adjunct to Unimatrix zero-one, wiped the sweat from her brow with one hand and crouched lower as Chakotay approached. The Commander offered a feral grin as he dribbled the basketball, faked with his right shoulder, and drove to the left. He neatly laid the ball against the backboard and looked over his shoulder as the ball dropped through the net.

"Slide your feet, Seven," Kieran coached. "You have to beat him to the mark and plant yourself to draw the foul," she explained.

Chakotay winked at the Counselor with a smug smile. "She knows what to do, Counselor. She just can’t move fast enough to get in front of me," he bragged.

Rachel McVicker high fived the Commander. "Nice move, Chakotay. Caught her sleeping."

Seven quirked an eyebrow. "I was fully awake, Ensign," she protested.

"Your ball," Chakotay tossed the orange sphere to Kieran.

Kieran flipped it to Naomi. "Take it out, Na," she instructed.

B'Elanna Torres had learned a great deal about basketball, including the art of dribbling between her legs, behind her back, and the precision of the "no-look pass". Kieran had taught anyone who was willing to learn, and at long last, there were enough crewmembers who would play that they could start a league. B'Elanna, far too pregnant to play, watched from the holographic bleachers.

Naomi fired the rock to Noah Lessing, the center on her team. Kieran played small forward and Seven played power forward. Naomi was point guard and Harry Kim was shooting guard. Noah dribbled once and lofted a hook shot that swished through the bucket. He smiled at Rachel McVicker, who had tried to swipe the ball but missed. "Maybe next time, Rach," he teased.

They exchanged knowing looks. Chakotay sighed. Another attractive, available woman had overlooked him for someone else, despite his best efforts to tempt the pretty Ensign.

"Doctor to Seven of Nine," the hail interrupted the game.

"Go ahead."

"It would appear that baby Gretchen is about to make an early appearance, Seven. The Captain is asking for you."

Seven’s eyes widened as her posture went rigid. "She—she—the baby?" she stammered.

Kieran and Naomi each took an arm to support the dauntingly beautiful Borg. "Come on, Mama, let’s get you to sickbay," Kieran tugged Seven toward the exit of the holodeck with B'Elanna right behind the trio.

 

"Good luck, Seven," Noah called after her.

"Yes, give the Captain our best," Rachel added.

The game quickly ended and the players began shooting idly at the basket, speculating about the delivery taking place down the corridor.

"I bet there’s a blue streak being sworn in that sickbay," Harry whistled, thinking of the Captain’s occasional colorful language.

Chakotay laughed. "I doubt it’s limited to blue, Harry," he clapped the Ensign on the shoulder.

"Can you imagine?" Rachel asked. "A baby that’s as pretty and smart as Seven, with the Captain’s disposition?"

Taylor Masterson, a Lieutenant in Sciences, chimed in. "She’ll probably start a mutiny by her third birthday."

"I can’t picture Captain Janeway with an infant," Tom Paris added. "I mean, Naomi is one thing, but someone who can’t take orders?" he joked, his face still boyish despite his years.

Chakotay gave him a playful scowl. "Good one, Tom. But if you thought being raised by Admiral Owen Paris was tough, imagine what it’d be like to have a Borg and Janeway raising you."

"No thanks," Paris allowed. "Nobody deserves to grow up with that kind of pressure to be perfect."

"Oh, I don’t know about perfect," Rachel dissented. "Janeway has plenty of faults. She’s just a human being. And the whole incident with Naomi running away has humbled her a good deal," she noted. "I think it’s made her a better person, and a better parent."

"Do you guys know what this means?" Harry held out his hands. "We’re a generational ship now. We are going to have kids living on Voyager. Babies!"

Tom put an arm around his shoulders. "Don’t worry, Harry. We’ve survived Hirogen, Vidians, and Borg. We can survive a few toothless, barely sentient, screaming bundles of piss and vinegar."

Chakotay shook his head. "I never thought I’d see the day. The Delta Quadrant is no place for children," he opined.

"Well, like it or not, they’re coming, Chakotay. Might as well learn to like it," Noah advised. He put his hand on Rachel’s shoulder. "You never know who might be next," he added.

Rachel smiled up at him. "You never do," she agreed.

_____________

Kathryn Janeway was fairly certain that a Borg Sphere was trying to pass from her uterus to the outside world. "Jesus H. Christ in a shuttlecraft," she swore, "what is taking this kid so long?"

Seven held her from behind. "Push, Kathryn. She is coming as quickly as she can."

Naomi Wildman held Kathryn’s hand. "Come on, K-Mom, you can do it. Focus on your breathing."

Kathryn panted obligingly, but the pain lancing through her abdomen disrupted her rhythm. She screamed as she bore down on the obstacle lodged between her legs.

"I see a head," the Doctor advised, "and she is blonder than Seven of Nine," he was genuinely excited. "A few more good pushes and she’ll be ready to say ‘reporting for duty’, Captain."

Kathryn collapsed back against Seven, face red and covered with sweat. "I can’t," she wailed, "I can’t do this. You do it, Seven. You’re so much stronger than me. I want to sleep," she begged.

"My darling," Seven whispered fiercely against her cheek, "I would gladly do this for you if I could, but I can’t. You are the Captain. You are a Janeway. You can do this, Kathryn. On the count of three, now—ONE…TWO…THREE…push!"

Kathryn launched forward, bearing down with all her might, hollering an incomprehensible oath as she pushed. She fell back against Seven again. "No, I can’t. It’s too hard," she insisted, tears of exertion running from her eyes. "Doctor, put it back. I’ll do it later," she pleaded.

"Put it back?" he was confused. "Captain, she’s halfway out. She is not about to go back now. Her head is out. You just have to clear her shoulders. You’re almost done. Almost. Now push," he commanded.

Kathryn rested momentarily, then reared back to get leverage as she pushed with what was left of her failing energy, crying out "GRE-TCHEN!" as she lunged forward. She was rewarded with the sensation of her vagina relaxing and the contraction abruptly ending.

"Look at you," the Doctor cooed, reaching for a cloth to wipe away blood and placental tissue. Gretchen Hansen-Janeway blinked against the glaring lights of sickbay and let out her first ear shattering cry. It was such a sharp, loud sound, everyone jumped, including the Doctor. "Well," he said acerbically, "she’s a Janeway, alright."

Kathryn was too anxious to get a look at her baby to expend the effort to give him a dirty look. A few more swipes with the cloth and the Doctor placed the squirming, screaming bundle into Kathryn’s arms. Gretchen was red faced, but as soon as Kathryn said "Hey, you," in her softest, most awed tone, Gretchen quieted right down, glancing up at the source of the soothing sound with crystal blue eyes. "Dear God, she does look just like you, Seven," Kathryn kissed the tiny forehead and glanced up at her spouse.

"Wow," Naomi added, "she even has your dimple and everything."

"Simple genetics—" the Doctor began, but was abruptly cut off by Seven of Nine.

"She has her birth mother’s nose, however," Seven pointed out, marveling at the miniature person whose gaze flitted around the room with each subsequent new sound. Seven touched the pinkened cheek of her youngest daughter, captivated by the softness of her skin. "She is perfect," she whispered, counting fingers and toes and surveying the baby’s proportions.

"For the record, ladies," the Doctor picked up a data PADD, "her legal name?"

Kathryn and Seven exchanged smiles. "Gretchen Samantha Hansen-Janeway," Seven replied with a loving look at Naomi.

"Samantha?" Naomi grinned with satisfaction. "After my mom?"

"We thought it would a fitting way to thank her for bringing our first daughter into our lives," Kathryn explained, leaning in to kiss the top of Naomi’s strawberry blonde head.

"Thanks," Naomi murmured, more interested in the new addition to the family than in her name, but gladdened by her mothers’ thoughtfulness. "She is so tiny," she marveled.

"She’s beautiful," B'Elanna Thompson-Torres chimed in from the doorway. Behind her, Kieran Thompson-Torres was trying to sneak a look at the baby.

Seven smiled warmly at the couple. "Come greet her properly," she invited them. As the two women circled around the biobed, Gretchen yawned sleepily and hunkered down against her mother’s chest.

"Hi Gretchen," Kieran whispered, touching a wisp of snow white hair on the child’s forehead.

"She’s like a miniature Seven of Nine," B'Elanna noted.

"Yeah, there’s no way anyone will question who she belongs to," Naomi agreed. "She looks like Seven and screams like Kathryn."

Kathryn was too enchanted with her baby to pretend to be offended. "Someone so tiny has to be loud to compensate, don’t you, honey?" she stroked the baby’s head tenderly.

"Just like her mama had to be loud to be noticed by all the boy captains," Kieran smarted.

B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "That’s our cue to leave. She’s about to go Freudian on us all," she teased her wife, tugging at her sleeve. "Come on, Counselor. Let’s let them have some family time."

Seven of Nine lay a firm hand on B'Elanna’s shoulder. "If this is family time, then you are exactly where you should be," she assured her friends.

Kieran put a welcoming arm around her spouse and lay her hand on the top of Naomi’s head. Naomi gazed up at her tall Borg Mother and her almost as tall friend. She knew then that she had been right when she told Neelix that love multiplies.