Title: Welcomes (4/6)
Couples: C/P/7, T/K
Rating: R (for language)
Disclaimer:  I don't own the characters... Paramount does.  I can't even
get a micron of Voyager's dust for myself.  I made no money off the use
of their characters, and I promise to return everyone when I'm done,
happier and more sexually satisfied!

Warning!  This story contains spoilers for the sixth season episodes
"One Small Step" and "Equinox, Part II".  Also, I'm ignoring some the
events of the fifth season... especially a *few* of those portrayed in
"Course: Oblivion".  Also, if you have not read the ST:TNG novel
"Q-in-law", this will contain some spoilers.

Summary: The madcap hilarity of birthing occurs in this plot... I think.

This story is dedicated to the four very entusiastic ladies.  Shamenka,
for getting me hooked on C/P slash in the first place.  Leone, my twin
and the person who encouraged me to post this story.  Stephanie, for
being one of the best Beta-readers I've ever had.  Finally for Bella
Morte, my fellow co-host in the Monday night chat for our graphics
group, I'd go crazy in there without her.


Naomi Wildman skips out the door of Sickbay carrying five trays and mugs. She sings softly under breath, and Seven pins Tom with a look when she hears the song Naomi is singing.

"Tell me, Thomas Eugene Paris, just *why* Naomi Wildman is singing Roula's 'Lick it!' under her breath. You *know* Ensign Wildman forbid her from listening to anything beyond what you call 'bubble gum pop' and classical Terran music. How would you like it if a crew member did that to one of the rules *we* decide on for our children?"

Tom Paris swallows hard at the look his wife is pinning him with. He knows that no one in Sickbay will help him out of the mess he's gotten himself into, he sighs in defeat. "I didn't know she was around at the time! I was working on the Delta Flyer, running that music selection you and I came up with, well, three *years* ago."

He looks meaningfully at his wife, and hers eyes widen when she realizes which music selection he is referring to. "She only made her presence known when I hit my head and started cursing in Romulan. By then, it was too late, the damage was done. Naomi had heard me using 'bad language' and listening to 'naughty' music. She only forgave me when I promised her that I wouldn't tell her mother, and that I wouldn't swear again for another week. You have *got* to remember that time about four months ago when I actually went *two weeks* without swearing."

Harry, standing next to B'Elanna's biobed, calls out, "I remember that, Tom, and you hustling people about how long you could go without swearing. I think you outlasted the highest estimate by only a few hours. I *also* remember what you plan on doing with those credits." He grins at his best friend, because he can tell that Tom Paris has not yet revealed to his spouses the amount of credits he won during that two week period.

When a contraction suddenly hits her, B'Elanna silences any response Tom might have made. She squeezes Harry's hand very hard and screams out, "Su madre desgasta cargadores del programa inicial del combate!" Grabbing his much-abused uniform front, she pulls him eye to eye and yells at him, "Puede usted sufrir la cólera de cada mala cosa!"

When her contraction is over, B'Elanna Torres looks over towards the other biobed, to find both Seven and the Doctor hiding their amusement. Seven grins, then sings:

 "Éstas botas se hacen para recorrer,
 de que son lo que hacen éstas botas,
 uno de actualmente, éstas botas van 
 A RECORRER todo concluído usted!"

Her little ditty, heard clearly in the Doctor's office, causes those that understand Spanish to start laughing hysterically. The worst hit are Seven and B'Elanna, as they both feel a contraction work its way through their bodies. Their screams are loud and in such near perfect synch, that when the contractions are over, the Doctor calls out, "Computer, soundproof Sickbay. Authorization EMH-lambda-epsilon-four."

The detached, yet feminine sounding voice of the computer responds, "Authorization accepted. Soundproofing of Sickbay will commence in five seconds." Five seconds later, a series of beeps sound throughout Sickbay. The computer's 'voice' is heard once more. "Soundproofing of Sickbay complete."

Suddenly, Seven's voice is heard. "I never realized it before, but the computer sounds almost exactly like Lwaxana Troi. Otherwise known as Daughter of the Fifth House, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Riix, and Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed."

"When did you meet Lwaxana Troi, Seven? Wait! That's not possible. Who did the Borg assimilate that met Lwaxana Troi, the Betazed Ambassador to the Federation?" Harry Kim asks. Those who can hear him can tell from his voice that he, too, has had the privilege of meeting the renowned telepath.

"Locutus. He had many encounters with the woman. It would make sense, would it not? Her daughter served aboard Picard's ship after all. But I have more memories of her that just those from the crew of the Enterprise-D *and* the Enterprise-E. For some reason, Locutus' impressions and memories of Lwaxana Troi were sent into the Collective, along with those of people who had met her in their lives before the Collective. Why this is so, I do not know."

Tom breaks into the conversation. "I can remember the one time *I* met Lwaxana Troi. I think it was just before her daughter joined Starfleet. I don't remember much else about her except that her hair exactly matched her dress. Which I didn't think was possible since her dress was made out of that Denuv'rian silk. *You* know, the kind that constantly changes?"

B'Elanna joins in. "I've never met her myself, but a friend of mine in the Maquis, Ro Laren, once served aboard the Enterprise-D. Boy, did *she* have stories to tell about Lwaxana Troi! Including how one time she went into mourning for her daughter, because she was unmarried at the age of 30! Apparently it's an ancient Betazed tradition; one not many people follow these days."

Seven turns to look first at Tom, then Harry. "But you would both agree with me that Lwaxana Troi and the computer have similar speech patterns." Two heads nod in agreement. "Good. Now we can get back to the serious business at hand."

Tom chuckles at his wife's comment, then turns to face his best friend, who is still held captive about an inch away from his wife's face. He tells Harry, "Regardez du côté lumineux, tout qu'ils peuvent faire maintenant est mise à mort nous."

Harry is able to lock glances with his best friend, and responds in the same language. "Oui. Mais je préférerais voir mes enfants grandir, pas vous?"

"Oui, mais si nous ne parlons pas anglais bientôt, votre épouse pourrait casser votre nez." Tom lets his eye dart to B'Elanna for a moment, before he looks at Harry again.

"I agree." Harry turns to look at his wife. "Can I get you to release my uniform, B'Elanna?"

B'Elanna's eyes narrow. "Not until you tell me what you and Tom just said to each other. All I understood was 'Oui'. And I know that you were saying something about me."

Setal, Child of the Fifth elder, and the being most likely to run screaming from the room in the next five seconds, just sighs heavily. S/he pins both couples with a look, one that makes all four people suddenly nervous. A wicked grin spreads across hish face and s/he speaks, "Well, I haven't had *that* effect on anyone since my own children were young. I'll have to see if it works on my subordinates as well as it does you humans." A grin spreads across hish face, letting the others in the room know that s/he is only teasing them.

Setal turns to face B'Elanna. "Doña B'Elanna, your husband and Monsieur Paris merely stated that the only thing you and Seven of Nine could do to your husbands now, is kill them. Although making the non-gestational parent take charge of a large portion of the baby care duties works just as well. They *wish* for death then." Setal stops and winks meaningfully at B'Elanna. "Your husband agreed with Monsieur Paris, but stated that *he* wanted to live to see the birth of his child, and implied Monsieur Paris might as well. Finally, Monsieur Paris agreed with your husband, but told him that *you* would likely break their noses if they did not begin to speak English. That is the end of the French portion of their conversation."

The Doctor snorts at the look of shock on both men's faces. They knew that he and Seven could both speak French, but their alien visitor's ability was clearly a surprise. In all likelihood, it was due to the alien's translator working well enough to understand French. Turning to face Seven of Nine, the Doctor says, "I think now would be an appropriate time for that insult Ensign Delaney told you to use, would it not?"

"Yes, Doctor. I believe you are correct." Seven smiles, and prepares for the multi-language insult Jennifer Delaney taught her when they first became friends, over four years ago. She looks directly into her husband's eyes and says, "Ne craignez pas le mal qui vous entoure." Pausing to let her husband soak in that warning, she then switches languages. "No tema los houds del infierno!" She hears B'Elanna snicker, but she continues near curse of an insult. "Non temere le bestie di brimstone." She grabs the front of Tom's uniform and pulls him down until they are nose to nose. In a soft tone of voice, she finishes the insult. "But, you *should* fear me."

Seven captures her husband's lips in a quick passionate kiss, and releases him from her grip. She grins smugly at him, certain in the knowledge that he had understood at least the first, third, and of course last language she spoke in. She merely raises an eyebrow at him, as if awaiting his answer.

Tom brings his wife's hand to his lips and kisses it. "I always thought a bit of fear was healthy in a loving relationship. It's good to know that Jenny and Megan are still able to get you to insult me in new and interesting ways."

Seven places her hand against her husband's face. "You wouldn't have it any other way, Thomas." She pulls him down for another kiss.

Tom kisses his wife, then pulls away, smiling. "You're right. I wouldn't."

"Oh gag me with a pitchfork!" B'Elanna exclaims from her biobed. "How can you two go from one moment threatening each other one moment, and be undressing the other with your eyes the next?"

Harry bites his lip, trying to contain his laughter. He fails. "Like we're any better B'Ela? There have been days where you throw me out of Engineering for suggesting something you don't like, then an hour later you find a way to make it up to me."

To Harry's relief, his wife has the decency to blush at some of the memories his comment brings back. But she recovers quickly. "You deserved each and *every* one of those, and you know it, Harry Kim." A contraction rips its way through her body, and she grips Harry's hand tightly. "Is this kid *ever* going to leave of my body?" she says as she looks Setal right in the eye.

"Of course s/he will. But you are still only dilated to seven centimeters. Most Klingon *and* Human women need to be dilated to at least ten centimeters before they can begin to bear down. Do not be so impatient."

"Says you! It feels like I've been in labor forever!"

"I am sure it does, but that is simply not the case. Believe me when I tell you that I felt the same way when I was giving birth to my youngest. I finally understood, then, why my mate had cursed me to the fifteenth realm and back during the births of our two older children. May I suggest that next time you make your *husband* bear the child? Then he might be more understanding of what you are going through."

Harry Kim grows pale as the Syreen talks, B'Elanna just grins widely. "I will consider your advice, Setal. But can I get something to drink? Water maybe?"

"Of course." Setal turns to look at Harry. "Mr. Kim, I am unfamiliar with your technology. Please get your wife a carafe of cool water and a cup with a straw."

Harry walks over to the replicator and orders exactly what Setal has requested of him. "A carafe of water, cold. One cup, with lid and straw." he replicator hums as it processes his order. When the items appear, he picks them up and returns to B'Elanna's side. Without being asked to, Harry pours a cup of water for his wife, then lets her sip some.

Setal smiles at the couple, and checks on B'Elanna again. The Syreen closes hish eyes and searches through the Lines, letting a small smile play across hish lips at what he finds there. //Well that's interesting. Not unexpected, but still interesting.// Setal mumbles slightly under hish breath, "The High Elder must be told about this... when she recovers from her most recent trip, of course. Terrific. She'll probably volunteer herself." Shaking hish head, Setal looks up to see that both Voyager crewmembers are looking at hir with confusion on their faces. S/he sighs. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just that most of them time, when you talk about people from your race, you use rather non-gender specific terms. But when you refer to this High Elder, you use feminine pronouns." Harry raises an eyebrow in question. "Why is that?"

Setal shrugs. "Because the High Elder *is* female. There's no better way to explain it. Okay, there is," s/he admits. "But that way requires graphs, charts, detailed genetic information about my people, and someone with more time than I have right now. Don't worry, though, I'm sure the High Elder herself will be more than happy to explain it to your crew, when we reach Syra." Setal winks at Harry, and turns hish attention back to B'Elanna. "You will be happy to know that according to the Lines you will give birth within the next two hours. However, Seven of Nine over there will give birth to her second child within the next hour. I *also* foresee that all three husbands in the room will be embarrassed, and very much so, by what their wives are going to be saying as labor pains shoot through their bodies."

This last part is spoken loud enough to carry into the Doctor's office, where Kathryn Janeway can no longer contain her mirth. She starts laughing, and is soon gasping for breath. Her First Officer just shoots a look at her, and when she sees it, it sets her off into new gales of laughter.

"It's not that funny, Kathryn." He stage whispers to her.

"Yes it is, Chakotay. Just the idea that whatever Seven might yell would embarrass you is enough to get me laughing. Where's your sense of humor?"

Seven hears the Captain, and shouts. "I think he lost it about nine weeks ago when I asked him if he could start practicing 'Erotic Meditation Techniques'! Or maybe it was when I kicked him *and* Tom out of bed demanding they get me chocolate covered pickles, and was asleep by the time they came back."

"That would do it, Seven!" Janeway yells back. She turns to see a blush creep up Chakotay's neck. "Why, Chakotay! You seem embarrassed about something. Do you dispute what your wife just told me?"

"No, ma'am. I just wish she would think before she speaks and reveals everything about our personal lives."

"Chakotay! I do *NOT* tell everything. I just do not see the reason why certain aspects of our relationship embarrass you when spoken about aloud," Seven yells from the main part of Sickbay.

Tom is sitting on the floor, laughing so hard he has stopped making noise. He tries to pull in some air, but only succeeds in laughing harder. Tears are streaming down his face, and the only thing keeping him from passing out is the thought that Seven *and* Chakotay would kill him if he did that *again*. So he takes in a deep breath, stands up, and nearly loses his composure again when he sees the look on his husband's face. Giving Chakotay a saucy grin and a small wave, he turns back to look his wife in the eye. "That wasn't fair, Seven. I thought we'd agreed that you would give me *some* warning before you did something like *that* again."

"No, Thomas. You and *Chakotay* agreed that I would give some advance warning. I just sat in the room, eating my chocolate covered pickles with strawberry sauce."

Tom nearly gags at the reminder of some of the foods his wife had combined during her pregnancy. He holds his hands up at the look on her face, "I know, I know. Don't knock it until I try it. But since *I* don't plan on getting pregnant any time soon, I think I'll decline the invitation."

Seven's face contorts in pain, and a scream rips itself from her body. The Doctor smiles when he looks at the monitors above her head. "Well Seven, looks like your second water broke. Ready for the fun to begin?"

"Doctor, you need to work on your definition of fun. This is *not* fun," Seven replies in clipped tones.

Tom chuckles at his wife's comments. He looks over his shoulder and sees that Chakotay has gone pale and is standing absolutely still. He licks his lips, lets go of Seven's hand, and in a few steps is standing in front of Chakotay. Grabbing Chakotay's face between his hands, he forces his husband to look him in the eye. "Chakotay, *nothing* is wrong. Seven's water just broke. She'll be fine, so stop worrying," he urges the older man, then leans down a little and captures Chakotay's lips with his own.

It takes a moment for Chakotay to respond to the gentle insistence of his husband's lips. Then he relaxes into the kiss, and wraps his arms around Tom's waist. Chakotay deepens the kiss a fraction, and he can feel the exact moment that Tom begins to withdraw. Chakotay smiles at his husband, and winks.

Tom, still held in the circle of his husband's arms, just smiles back. "Better now?"

"Much. Thanks Baby. I don't think either of us could have gotten through this without you."

"I'm just doing my part as the sandwich filling in this marriage. Besides, without me, you two would have killed each other back during Seven's first trimester."

"Too true, Baby." Chakotay hugs his husband again, then releases him. "Now get back out by that biobed. There's a pregnant lady over there who needs you."

"Yes Sir!" Tom flips Chakotay a jaunty salute, then turns to leave.

Chakotay smacks Tom on the butt as he leaves. "Wise ass!" In return, Tom just wiggles the aforementioned butt at his husband. Chakotay shakes his head at Tom's antics, and turns back to look at his Captain. "What?"

"Nothing. I just rarely get to see this side of you, Chakotay. I miss it sometimes, but I understand *why* I don't see you teasing and playful anymore." She grins at him, watching him blush once more. "Now, I believe we are supposed to make sure that this office is clean?"

"Of course, Captain. We can't have Naomi yelling at us about not doing our jobs, can we? Where is she, anyway?"


At the same time that Chakotay is wondering about her whereabouts, Naomi Wildman is sitting at a table, in the middle of the mess hall. All those currently at lunch, which is not many this late in the afternoon, surround her. She grins at Neelix, who is in the kitchen contentedly mixing something for dinner.

"What happened next, Naomi?" Gerron Tem asked her.

"Well, since I don't speak Klingon yet, I'm not entirely sure. But I do know that B'Elanna growled something at Harry, and he turned white. *Really* white, like the color of whipped cream. Then the Doctor yelled across the Sickbay that B'Elanna couldn't use human entrails as engineering substitutes, as they don't conduct plasma very well." The little girl delivers the tale of events so well that everyone listening is almost able to 'hear' the ship's doctor.

The doors to the mess hall open, and Captain Janeway enters the room. She merely raises an eyebrow at Naomi, who grins and hops down from the table. "Oh, well. Sorry, guys, but it looks like duty calls!"

Groans met the little girl's announcement. The stories she was telling about the antics of two so very different women as they gave birth was better than any version they might get from the adults in that room. So they all watched as Naomi Wildman skips across the mess hall, and takes the Captain's hand in hers. The two females turn and leave the mess hall together.

When the door shuts behind them, Gerron Tem says, "Gods! Someone remind me not to get Seven *or* B'Elanna mad at me for the next few months, okay?" Laughter greets the young Bajoran's statement.

The End

Helpful Translations:
< B'Elanna "Su madre desgasta cargadores del programa inicial del combate!"
(Your Mother wears Combat Boots!)
< B'Elanna "Puede usted sufrir la cólera de cada mala cosa!"
(May you suffer the wrath of every bad thing!)
< Seven "Éstas botas se hacen para recorrer, de que son lo que hacen éstas botas,
uno de actualmente, éstas botas van A RECORRER todo concluído usted!"
(These boots are made for walking, that's what these boots do,
One of these days, These boots are going to WALK all over you!)
< Seven "Ne craignez pas le mal qui vous entoure."
(Do not fear the evil that surrounds you.)
< Seven "No tema los houds del infierno!"
(Do not fear the hounds of hell!)
< Seven "Non temere le bestie di brimstone."
(Do not fear the beasts of brimstone.)