Life With A Paris: The Short Road Home Tom stood waiting for the turbolift to open, wondering where the devil Delta had managed to meander off to. Only the dog of a Paris could possibly come up with an escape plan aboard Voyager. He shook his head in amusement. He wasn't worried, eventually someone would come across the pup and return him home, but he'd rather find him quickly for B'Elanna's sake. Whether it be hormones, or whatever shot the Doc had given her earlier, his wife was thoroughly upset, and he didn't like to see her that way. Ever. After all, when one lives with a half-Klingon, upset could mean life threatening... to him. The doors slid open, and Tom stepped into the turbolift. "Deck 2." It wasn't until the lift was underway, that he heard the soft whimpering behind him. "You've got to be kidding me." He glanced up at the roof of the turbolift with a God-give-me-strength look, before turning around. Cowering in the corner, a look of blatant fear and misery across his pretty face, lay the saddest looking creature Tom had ever seen. "You moron." Tom shook his head slowly. "Do you know how much trouble you're going to be in when we get you back home, Delta? You've worried your mother sick." At the sound of his name, Delta's brown eyes perked up slightly, and he raised his head.  Later Tom would admit to the feeling of pride that swept through him as Delta's entire demeanor changed. The previously beaten looking puppy shifted into hyper-happy gear in an instant, leaping off the floor to land against Tom's chest, throwing them both into the side of the turbolift. Tom sank to the ground, ruffling Delta's fur as the dog wiggled and shivered happily, his tail beating a steady rhythm against the wall and Tom's legs.  "Well, I guess we'd better get you home before B'Elanna sends *more* people out to look for you." He ordered the lift back to his deck. "Chakotay to Paris." Tom got to his feet and straightened his uniform, as the dog suddenly grew more subdued. "Go ahead." "Leash laws are in effect on this ship, Lieutenant. Mind that you keep your dog confined from now on." "Yes, sir." Tom's voice was confused as he glanced down at the once again shivering dog. "And, Tom?" "Yea?" "Get him house trained. Chakotay out." "What did you *do*, Delta?" "Seven of Nine to Lieutenant Paris." "What is it, Seven?" "I would appreciate it if from now on your *pet* is not allowed to roam Voyager at large. It is a menace." "Seven, he just got out. It's not like he gets loose every day." "See that it does not happen again. I do not wish to have any further contact with it." "Yea, okay, whatever." His comm badge went silent once more. "Delta, exactly how much trouble did you get into today?" "Janeway to Paris." "Oh, God, Captain, I've already apologized to Chakotay, I swear he won't get out again." "Lieutenant?" "You don't want to talk about Delta?" "No, Tom, but if there's something you want to tell me..." "Uh, no, that's all right, Captain. What can I do for you?" "I just wanted to let you know that the Doctor just contacted me." "And?" "You're wife is in labour, Lieutenant. Congratulations, you're about to become a father." Tom barely felt the pressure of Delta leaping upon him as his legs went weak beneath him and he sank to the floor. End.