The BLTs Archive - One Good Deed by DangerMom (dangermom@aol.com) --- Original Release Date: March 2001 Please keep all credits and disclaimers with this story. A canon-based sequel (making good on a long-overdue promise*) to "No Good Deed, or Stuff and Nonsense," travelling full circle from there, to Annie's "Inner Landscape," Julie's "Aurora:Changes," and back again. Also inspired by Julie's "Scenes From a Marriage." Possible spoilers for season seven. Set sometime after "The Void" but before "Workforce." *Please refer to the note at the end of the story. Many thanks to Julie, Annie and Monica. Feedback greatly appreciated. Disclaimer: Down to the wire, Paramount. Don't expect me to work up this much enthusiasm for Series V. (c) March 22, 2001--P. L. Heyes. --- There was nothing like leaving work after a long day and looking forward to a quiet dinner, a relaxing evening at home, and a good night's sleep. Even if you knew you'd probably wind up with only two out of three. As the turbolift descended from the Bridge, Tom Paris heaved a sigh and leaned against the wall, thinking. The quiet dinner was a given. In recent weeks, he and B'Elanna had made it more of a habit to eat at home, rather than in the Mess Hall. They took turns using the replicator, or picking up something special Neelix had prepared. It had become their time, family time--unwinding, talking, just being together. The relaxing evening was a more random occurrence. They were spending more time "in" then they used to, even in the first weeks of their marriage. They would watch TV (B'Elanna had discovered a "new" animated action-adventure series and was seriously hooked on it), or catch up on reports, or make plans about the baby--changes in their work schedules, arranging for childcare, when and where to move the furniture. But there were also nights out, just for a change of pace, especially if B'Elanna was in a restless mood. Sometimes they'd go to the holodeck, for a date at the movie theater, or a walk in some peaceful outdoor setting. One night a week was reserved for childbirth classes with the Doctor. Then there were evenings spent with Tuvok or Samantha Wildman or Joe Carey, having practical, and sometimes emotional, discussions of the ups and downs of parenthood. They were both particularly touched by the offer of help Joe had come forth with about two months into the pregnancy. Now that Voyager had regular communication with the Alpha Quadrant, Joe was in the rewarding but unnerving process of getting to know his boys all over again. The lieutenant had been unable to speak openly about his family for years, but now he welcomed the chance to help out the parents-to-be, which was beneficial therapy for himself as well. Change was certainly the watchword on Voyager these days, and for himself, Tom didn't mind much at all. Like everything else in life, you took the good with bad, and made the most of it. You learned to appreciate the lulls, long or short, in-between. Right now, though, there was one thing he longed for--the good night's sleep that was currently missing from the equation. Both the Doctor and Samantha had warned them about this--that B'Elanna could go through phases when certain discomforts and odd feelings would go away, only to be replaced by others. And now, between the fifth and sixth months of her pregnancy, the worst thing B'Elanna was going through was sleeplessness. A steady weight gain was making it harder to find a comfortable position at night. They were watching her calcium intake carefully to avoid leg cramps. The baby was moving a lot more, especially it seemed when her mother was the least active. B'Elanna was barely averaging five hours of sleep some nights, and the effects were beginning to show--in the circles under her eyes, in her lack of energy, and in her increasing edginess. And if B'Elanna couldn't sleep, neither could Tom. He had wanted her to discuss it with the Doctor, but she resisted, convinced they could manage without advice. Her work load was already being gradually decreased when possible, so she learned to take time out and cat naps in her office while Lieutenants Carey and Nicoletti took charge, and kept a watchful eye on their chief. It seemed to help a little. Tom didn't feel the effects quite so badly, and managed to keep alert on the Bridge during most of his shifts. Sickbay, however, was another matter. "Am I boring you, Lieutenant?" the Doctor asked caustically one afternoon, when Tom let out a mighty yawn in the middle of a discussion about updating medical records for the entire crew. "Give me a break, Doc. The further along B'Elanna gets, the harder it is to sleep well." The Doctor had already subjected him to repeated ribbings about weight gain, backaches and irritability, and obviously felt no need to be tactful this time. "Just another example of sympathetic symptoms, Mr. Paris," he blithely announced. His tune quickly changed when Tom turned on him and backed him up against the main control console. "Lieutenant!" he protested in alarm. "Cut it out," Tom growled, one hand poised threateningly over the hologram's off switch. "This has been going on for over a week, and I'm worried about B'Elanna." The Doctor frowned, and met Tom's distraught gaze steadily. "Then why didn't you bring it to my attention sooner?" he demanded. Tom took a step back. "Because she didn't want me to. She thought it wasn't going to get worse, that it would have eased up by now." He gave an apologetic shrug. "I bet she didn't mention it during her last checkup, did she?" "No," the EMH admitted ruefully, "and I didn't see any indications at the time, either. One thing's for certain--this pregnancy has not affected your wife's stubbornness, has it?" That had put them back in accord, and they set about searching for solutions. Doc gave Tom a padd on advanced therapeutic massage techniques. They consulted Tuvok and Chakotay for relaxation routines. Tom made attempts to convince B'Elanna of the merits of hot milk or various herbal infusions okayed by the Doctor, which she tried only if he drank them right along with her. They tried soothing sounds played by the computer, aromatherapy, and even replicated a pair of sleeping masks, borrowed from Harry's specs. Some things worked. Some didn't. It varied from night to night. Some nights they slept well, some nights they didn't. The Doctor monitored B'Elanna's overall health and the baby's development all the more carefully, ready to take more serious action if either was compromised. He continued to assure them that this phase was generally quite normal, and would eventually pass. And he was able to offer one other bit of further consolation, when Tom was present for B'Elanna's checkup, the third week of the problem. "You can look at it this way--at least you'll know how to get by on less sleep when the baby's actually here." That had earned him two death glares that would have made Captain Janeway proud. The lift doors opened and Tom stepped off, chuckling as he remembered how quickly Doc had deactivated himself that day. They were going to have to check out the hologram's off-duty schedule, and be sure to enlist him as a baby-sitter (after all, what were godfathers for?) every chance they could. Provided they had the energy to get out and do anything after the baby arrived. Tom knew he certainly didn't feel any urge to go out and do something this evening. He'd scarcely managed to stay fully alert during his last hour of duty at the helm. The past two nights had been rough ones. He wondered which strategies they should try, or not try tonight, to ensure they'd both sleep better. He stepped inside their quarters and was surprised to find the lights were low, until he remembered that B'Elanna would be coming home a little late. She had a tutorial with Icheb, reviewing some of his Academy course work. Although she did enjoy helping the would-be cadet, Tom suspected she might be in need of a little extra unwinding after dinner. He decided he'd treat her to a warm bath and a massage. Then she might be inclined to treat him to something special, too. Thinking about what they might want for dinner, he headed for the replicator. He cast a quick look around the cabin, checking for signs that B'Elanna might have been here for lunch. But everything seemed tidy and in its place. Then his gaze fell on the crib, at the foot of their bed. There was something in there. His knees went weak and his stomach lurched. It couldn't be-- B'Elanna couldn't have-- Somebody would have called him! Reason returned in as quick a flash has it had left, displacing the momentary panic that had gripped him. Idiot, Tom thought, smacking his forehead. He managed a few steps forward, laughing weakly in relief as he realized what was occupying the crib. Fatigue and nerves had played a trick on his eyes, that was all. He knelt down, still chuckling as he pulled the blanket back. A beady little eye stared up at him mockingly. Toby the Targ was nestled in the spot where their daughter would soon sleep. "So, Mom decided the bottom drawer wasn't good enough for you any more, huh?" Tom said softly, picking up the stuffed toy with a gentle squeeze. Toby squeaked in reply. The only "away mission" the little targ had been on lately was the move from B'Elanna's quarters to here, just after their honeymoon. But Toby didn't look neglected, he suddenly realized. His shiny eyes and soft fur seemed as fresh and new as the day Tom had given him to B'Elanna as a gag birthday present, all those years ago. She must have put him in the recycler for refurbishing, Tom thought, so he'd be all clean and cuddly before she passed him on to the baby. He grinned, giving Toby another squeeze. "And my little girl is gonna love you, just like her mom does, even though she'd never admit it," he confided as the targ squeaked at him again. Carefully, he put Toby back in the crib, rearranging the blanket, fiddling with the mobile. It was time to start thinking about dinner again. B'Elanna hadn't made a big deal about her sentimental gesture, and neither would he. As Tom hustled between the replicator and the table, Toby's beady gaze seemed to follow him through the bars of the crib. Reproachfully. Longingly. "Damn." Tom kicked himself mentally, trying not to look in that direction as he finished setting the table. He'd hardly given any thought to Toby when he'd been languishing in exile in the dresser drawer. But in the soft, pink expanse of the crib, the little targ looked so lonely. --- "Why do you do that?" B'Elanna looked up, startled. The question should have been, "Do the power ratios apply to impulse drive as well?" But that's not what Icheb was asking, nor was his attention on the padd she'd just handed him. Instead, he was looking at her. More specifically, he was staring at her hand, which was resting on her rounded stomach, making little circles. She stopped abruptly, feeling totally self-conscious and just a tiny bit embarrassed. It was something she'd been doing for weeks, without even thinking about it, and it wasn't like other people hadn't seen her doing it. However, Icheb's directness had caught her off-guard. Icheb glanced up, noticing her discomfit. His face turned crimson, and he quickly tried to make amends. "I am sorry, Lieutenant. I shouldn't have asked such a personal question. It was very rude of me," he added, trying to inch away from her without falling off his seat. B'Elanna quickly forgot her own chagrin, and tried to smother a smile. The poor kid. He hadn't looked this upset since he'd mistaken her overtures of friendship for something more serious. "Relax, Icheb," she said calmly. "You were just curious, right?" The young man nodded warily. "Well..." She looked down to where the material of her maternity tunic was stretched tightly over the bulge of her abdomen. That's where she liked to rub, right over the top and down the curve. "I do it because...it feels good. It's soothing, for me, and I hope for the baby, too." Icheb nodded again, his eyes going a little wide. "She can feel it?" he asked in amazement. "She knows what you're doing?" "In a way. At this stage, the Doctor says she's aware enough to react to certain stimuli. Loud noises, music, even touch." Her hand started moving again, almost of its own volition, and B'Elanna smiled. She felt the muscles under her fingers contract slightly, and braced herself. She glanced sideways at her student. "In fact," she confided in a loud whisper, "I think she knows we're talking about her." Sure enough, at that moment the baby moved, shifting position with a maneuver that Tom, for some obscure reason, called "the seventh-inning stretch." B'Elanna always envisioned it as a somersault in zero-gee. And seated as she was now, the change could not only be felt, but seen as well. A definite ripple passed under the taut fabric of her tunic, and then a little bulge appeared where her belly began to curve down, as the baby pushed a fist or a foot outward. Icheb stared and stared, as his face turned red again. B'Elanna wondered if he was remembering his initial diagnosis of a "parasite" within her body. "Hey." While one hand tried to soothe the baby into relative stillness, she reached out with the other to pat Icheb's shoulder. "It's okay--this is perfectly normal. Though it can be a real nuisance at night while I'm trying to sleep." That seemed to snap the boy out of his mesmerized state. "Oh." He stood up quickly, gathering his padds together. "We have exceeded our allotted study time, Lieutenant. I'm sure you wish to go home and get some rest." "Uh-huh." B'Elanna looked at him suspiciously. While she'd gotten used to people fussing over her in this state, she sometimes had to wonder if the entire crew had banded together in a massive conspiracy to maintain her health and well-being till the baby was born. She really couldn't get mad at everyone, though, and was resigned to putting up with all the attention. "Thank you, Icheb," she said sincerely. "Be sure you get that report finished for Lieutenant Carey by Friday." "I will," he promised, heading out of her office. "Good night, Lieutenant." "Good night." She watched him go, then turned in her chair to shut down her board and the lesson displays. For another few moments, she was still, thinking over the little incident. With the resilience of youth, Icheb was making the transition from drone back to a real person with more ease than Seven had managed over the past few years. Of course, his period of assimilation had been much shorter than hers, imperfect and incomplete. Bowing her head, B'Elanna cupped both hands protectively around her daughter. Not for the first time, she felt a surge of relief that she hadn't been pregnant during her own limited but dangerous time as a drone. The baby kicked once. Then again, a bit harder. B'Elanna shook her head, throwing off the somber mood. "Oh, knock it off, kid," she murmured, levering herself out of the chair. "We're going home now, okay?" --- The one good thing about coming home late was that Tom would probably have dinner waiting. As B'Elanna walked in, she could see the table was set, the candles were lit, and something was simmering nicely in a thermal server. But her husband was nowhere in sight. "Tom?" There was no answer. She glanced at the table again, in case he'd left a padd there with a message. Nothing--not on top of the TV, the night stand, or the bed... Her gaze travelled down to the crib. It wasn't quite as she had left it on her lunch break. Toby was still snuggled in the blanket, his snout poking out, but he wasn't alone. B'Elanna sat on the edge of the bed and looked more closely. She hadn't been sure what Tom's reaction might be if he noticed Toby's presence, but what she saw wasn't entirely surprising. After all, Toby had been his idea, originally. She was still studying the little targ's new friend when the door opened. "Hey--sorry. I thought I was going to get back here before you did," Tom said a little breathlessly as he walked in, holding a covered dish. "Neelix called and said he had something special for our dessert tonight." He placed the dish carefully on the table. "Chocolate wikki fruit pie." B'Elanna spared him a quick glance, and absently started to undo her tunic. "Sounds delicious," she said, letting her gaze return to the crib. "He must have known we were having--company for dinner." Tom turned around and saw where her attention was. "Oh...oh, yeah," he said, grinning sheepishly. "I think there'll be enough for all of us," he joked. She made a face at him. "Very funny." He made a face back. "You started it." She finished peeling off her top, then reached into the crib, setting Toby aside gently so she could pick up his companion. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" she asked, giving Tom an arch look. "Sure," he said eagerly, coming over to kneel down beside her. "This is Mr. Binky," he said, completely straight-faced. B'Elanna blinked. It wasn't a name she would have guessed for the large stuffed toy she held in her arms--a golden-haired horse, with a silky white mane and tail. The design was slightly more realistic than Toby's, but it was unmistakably a child's toy, soft and huggable. Warily, she tried a gentle squeeze, which resulted in silence. "He doesn't squeak," Tom said, watching her in bemusement. "Right." She ran her fingers through the soft mane. "What kind of name is Mr. Binky for a horse?" she asked critically. "What kind of name is Toby for a targ?" he countered. She grinned evilly. "I got you good with that one, didn't I, Paris?" she said, recalling how off-balance she'd thrown him the day he'd given her Toby, by going all soft and gooey-eyed. "But, really, Tom...Mr. Binky?" His face went very still, as he reached out and stroked the horse's back thoughtfully. "Give me a break, B'Elanna. I was five years old." "This--this was your toy?" Although any little thing could set her off emotionally these days, B'Elanna was taken aback by the intense pang that Tom's statement caused her. She was certain that very little of what he owned today dated from before Voyager's departure from the Alpha Quadrant. But then, it wasn't much of a surprise that he would keep something like this a secret, or that he'd saved it for now, to give to their daughter. It had much more sentimental meaning than just cleaning up old Toby...Tom was so much better at such gestures than she was. It touched and pleased her yet made her strangely unhappy all at the same time, and she set her jaw firmly because she could feel her lips trembling as an ache began in her heart. Tom saw her distress, and even if he wasn't sure what had caused it he reacted instantly. "Oh, hey--no," he said, putting his hand comfortingly over hers. "I just replicated this guy a little while ago--but he's a lot like a toy I had when I was kid." B'Elanna swallowed and nodded, getting a grip on herself. "Of course," she said quickly. "And he's very cute, with a very...cute name." She lifted Mr. Binky in the air, turning him this way and that. "It was sweet of you to replicate him for the baby." "Umm, yeah." She knew that tone. "What?" "Nothing." He ducked his head, fishing under the bed for her slippers. Then he reached for her feet to take her boots off. And she knew a diversionary tactic when she saw one. "Tom..." She grabbed his chin and raised his head so she could look him in the eyes. "Why did you replicate him?" He shrugged, and didn't answer till he had finished tugging off one boot. "Well, for the baby, of course, even though she won't be able to play with him right away." "Well, I know she won't be able to play with Toby right away either, but I just thought--you know, that he looked cute in there," B'Elanna confessed. That was as close as she could get to understanding the impulse that had seized her earlier in the day. He bent down again and pulled at her other boot. "And lonely," he murmured softly. She wasn't sure she had heard him right. "You thought--Toby looked lonely?" Tom glanced up at her, with a wary expression she hadn't seen on his face in years--the one he used to get when he was afraid she'd misunderstand or reject some of his attempts to get to know her better. "Yeah," he said shortly. Even as she felt a little miffed that he thought she'd misunderstood him now, a warm tender glow spread through her, and she couldn't help smiling at him in fond exasperation. Carefully, she put Mr. Binky back in the crib beside Toby, then leaned forward as best she could to kiss her husband soundly. "You are absolutely hopeless," she pronounced, as his arms came around her and lifted her gently to her feet. There was no way he could deny it. "Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Come on, let's go eat." "Okay." --- They talked over dinner, as usual, going over the highlights of the day. B'Elanna related how Icheb's engineering lesson had shifted to biology. Tom confessed how his first sight of Toby in the crib had given him a scare. They shared easy, intimate laughter over both stories. When they finished eating, Tom went to the replicator to fetch some Tarkelian tea to go along with dessert. B'Elanna uncovered the pie, and was eyeing it dubiously when he came back to the table. "What's wrong?" he asked. "It looks wonderful, but I don't know if I should have any." He poured her a cup of tea and sat down. "You didn't eat much last night, B'Elanna, and you didn't sleep well. Maybe because you were still hungry." "But if I eat too much tonight, maybe I won't sleep well either," she fretted. Tom sighed. This was just one more troublesome variable in the sleep problem. "I don't think one piece is going to hurt." She frowned, then sipped some tea, thinking. "All right," she finally said. "One tiny piece." "Great." He cut them each a small piece of the sweet confection, then stored the rest in the cooler unit under the replicator. "Mmm, it is good," B'Elanna mumbled, licking whipped cream off her lips. "Be sure to thank Neelix in the morning." "Of course!" B'Elanna insisted on cleaning up when they were through, since Tom had done all the dinner preparation. But as usual, they ended up doing it together. "Is there anything special you want to do tonight?" he asked, as they stacked dishes in the recycler. "Not really, unless you've got something in mind." "Well, whatever we do, I think we ought to concentrate on getting you a good night's sleep." B'Elanna shoved the last cup into the unit with a noisy clatter, then punched the controls forcefully. "Damn it, Tom," she said, whirling to face him, "I think that's the biggest part of the problem! We think about it too much, we try too hard, and it's not helping," she growled in frustration. He took her by the shoulders and spoke calmly. "All right, fine, maybe we have been going a little overboard with this. But you know it's because I worry about you, and we're both worried about the baby, right?" She nodded, her lips set in a thin line. She'd already started to rub her stomach, in an attempt to calm down. Tom noticed, and tried not to smile. "One thing's for sure, getting upset about it--" "--is not going to help," B'Elanna finished with a sigh. She leaned against him, sighing again as he wrapped her in a supportive hug. He kissed the top of her head. "I was going to offer you a nice, warm bath tonight, and maybe a massage--" "No," she cut him off. "No special therapy, no hot milk or soothing music," she insisted. "Let's just do--nothing. I want a quiet, normal night at home, like there's nothing wrong, okay?" she asked, looking up at him pleadingly. He gave her another kiss. "Sounds like a plan to me." --- It took several awkward, self-conscious minutes before they settled down into doing "nothing." B'Elanna finally went off to the bathroom to wash up and change into pajamas. When she came out, Tom had also changed, and was on the couch, with a padd in hand. "Work?" she asked as she pulled back the covers and got into bed. "Just a couple of helm reports I need to file," he said. "But I may watch some TV in a bit." He patted the cushion beside him. "Want to join me?" She plumped up the pillows and got comfortable. "Ooh--are you going to watch 'Batman Beyond'?" That was her current "addiction." Tom shook his head. "No, I was going to catch up on a few episodes of 'Nova.' " "Never mind, then," she said, picking up a padd of her own from the night stand. She didn't find science shows from Tom's favorite era that interesting. "I've been wanting to read this." "What?" "The book Chakotay recommended, that came through in last month's data stream," she said. "About the people--civilians and Starfleet--who were on Deep Space 9 during the Dominion War." "Oh, yeah. Let me know what you think--I'd like to read it, too." They both knew why Chakotay thought the book was worth reading. No matter how much they learned about the war and the current situation back home through "official channels," it was important they had other sources of information. Whatever they could learn from family and friends--assuming personal communications weren't being censored by Starfleet--would be vital in the crew's preparing for their eventual return to the Alpha Quadrant. An account of the war written by Jake Sisko, the son of a 'fleet hero who had passed into Bajoran legend, might provide them all with even more insight. But in the continued effort to keep this a quiet, "normal" evening, neither of them spoke those thoughts out loud. Such concerns would take precedence over others when the time was right. The effort quickly became less forced as they each became absorbed in what they were doing, unaware of just how badly they needed to relax in this fashion. The stillness stretched from minutes into comfortable hours, punctuated only by B'Elanna's occasional trips to the bathroom, and the quiet hum of the TV, which Tom kept at the lowest volume possible so as not to disturb her reading. --- By the time Tom was halfway through a third segment of "Nova," he realized he was halfway to falling asleep on the couch. He sat up straight, noting that he hadn't felt this mind-numbingly relaxed at night in a long time. B'Elanna had seemingly hit on the right solution after all. He clicked off the TV and looked up, expecting her to be still reading or maybe even asleep by now. Instead, he saw she had moved to the end of the bed, one hand resting on the headboard of the crib as she gazed down at it, much as he had found her earlier. Her expression was pensive, but untroubled. Afraid that asking if everything was all right might disturb her, Tom got up quietly and walked over, waiting till she noticed his approach before sitting down beside her. "Hey--credit for your thoughts," he ventured. B'Elanna smiled and curled herself up against him. "Oh, just thinking we'll have to displace these two--" she waved her hand at Toby and Mr. Binky--"to make room for the baby." "You think it's crowded in there now," he said teasingly, "just wait. Remember all the gifts Samantha got for Naomi? Someone's bound to throw us a baby shower any time now, and then we'll have to request an extra room just to hold all the toys." "We're not going to spoil her, Tom," she said with a slight frown. No matter how much they'd been adjusting and preparing, little doubts like this surfaced for them both all the time. "Of course not," he tried to assure her. "We're just going to love her and do our best to make her happy." B'Elanna nodded, but her anxious expression didn't go away. She reached into the crib, and lightly touched each toy, one at a time. "Was--was Mr. Binky your favorite toy, when you were little?" she asked. Her tone, and the way she wouldn't look at him, made Tom suspect that wasn't what she'd meant to ask him at all. But he didn't press her, and tried to answer honestly. "For a while, I guess. You outgrow things, even though they always stay special to you, somewhere inside." Wherever her thoughts were taking her, he hoped it wasn't going to ruin the peacefulness they'd managed to achieve tonight. "I bet you had a lot of nice toys," she said softly, her hand lingering on Toby. "I didn't." He could hear the edge of pain in her matter-of-fact voice, and although it made him ache to hold and comfort her, he resisted. This was obviously something B'Elanna needed to get out of her system. "Did you have a favorite one?" he asked, trying to sound as detached and steady as she did. "For a while." Her voice was still eerily calm. "I had a teddy bear, once." Tom could hardly stand this, but he soldiered on. "What was his name?" B'Elanna almost smiled. "Teddy." She gave him a look. "I was only five." He smiled back gamely. "That's a great name for a bear." She nodded, but her eyes grew clouded. "My--" For the first time, her voice faltered. "My father gave him to me..." That did Tom in. "B'Elanna--don't--" He tried to hold her, but she drew back, shaking her head. "I have to remember those things, Tom," she insisted, folding her arms and clutching her shoulders. "I have to, if I want the pain to go away..." She stared at him, through unshed tears, almost defiantly. "Okay, okay," he agreed desperately. "Talk to me, tell me, if it helps." They hadn't talked about this since the aftermath of that awful scene in Sickbay, months ago. He could only hope this would ultimately be good for her, despite the distress it might cause her or the baby. B'Elanna held her head up. She seemed fiercely determined to go through with this, showing very little of the hurt and rage that had consumed her back then. Bit by bit, she relaxed, dropping her arms, leaning towards him ever so slightly. "I--I loved my father, even after he left us," she said, almost in a whisper. "And I--loved my teddy, even after I lost him." His heart breaking, Tom reached out and pulled her close, sighing in relief when she returned his embrace. Her breathing was bit unsteady, but otherwise she seemed at ease, content just to be held close. There were so many things he could have said, to comfort her further, but what came out surprised him. "You--you lost your teddy?" It seemed to surprise B'Elanna as well. She glanced up at him, blinking in mild confusion. "He--he disappeared, when Mother decided we ought to move back to the homeworld. He wasn't with my things when we got there, and she never said anything, and I didn't ask any questions..." Old, not-quite-forgotten pain was very evident in her voice now. Tom understood the implications. "Things like that happen," he said hesitantly, as he felt a twinge of distant pain himself. B'Elanna looked at him sharply. "Did you lose Mr. Binky?" "No...I gave him away, when I was eight," he admitted bleakly. She touched his face, so he would look her in the eyes. "Because some adult said you were too old for toys like that, and made you do it?" she asked furiously. "No, no..." It always took his breath away when she acted so protectively towards him. "I gave him to a cousin, whose family was moving off Earth. Davie was only four, and all he understood was that they were going far away from everything he knew. I wanted to make him feel better, so I gave him Mr. Binky. I did it on my own, which made my parents very proud of me, which somehow made it worse, after..." B'Elanna patted his cheek. "Because you missed Binky more than you did Davie," she said. Tom felt his face go red. "Well, yeah..." She kissed him. "But it was still a very nice thing for you to do," she stated proudly. As quickly as they had fallen into a somber, distressing mood, they were out of it. Tom sighed in amazement, shaking his head, almost blushing again when he saw B'Elanna watching him do it with an incredulous smile of her own. "You okay?" he asked her warily. "Better," she acknowledged. She looked down and started rubbing her stomach. "It didn't seem to bother this one at all," she added. "She's been very qui--ow!" Her hand and tummy jerked from an obviously forceful kick. Tom chuckled softly, then louder when B'Elanna made a face as her hand was pushed up again and her whole abdomen seemed to undulate. He bent over and said, "Great timing, kid. You don't start the calisthenics when Mom and Dad would like to go to bed." "She'll settle down," B'Elanna said, with more hope than conviction. "I really thought we had this licked tonight." He stood up and stretched. "There's always hot milk." She wrinkled her nose. "No thanks." "Soft music?" "No, Tom." She inched her way back to the head of the bed, whispering "Stop that" to the little athlete inside her. He tapped the mobile over the crib, watching the tiny starships float around, trying to think if they had any options left. On impulse, he reached into the crib and picked up one of the stuffed toys. "Oh, here," he said, tossing the targ on the bed by his wife's feet. "Maybe sleeping with Toby will help both of you relax." B'Elanna's mouth dropped open, and to Tom's astonishment she blushed. "Why did you say that?" she demanded. He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know--we were talking about toys, and I thought, well, maybe you slept with your teddy when you were a kid, because, you know, it's a comfort to do that, and, uhh..." He had no idea where he was going with this train of thought and realized it was time to stop. "I'm sorry--I was just kidding," he said, not wanting B'Elanna to be upset again and blame him for it. He held his hands out. "Here, toss him back and I'll--" "No!" B'Elanna grabbed Toby and clutched him tightly to her breast. Tom stared at her. "B'Elanna?" She wouldn't answer him. He went around to his side of the bed and sat down gingerly. B'Elanna ignored him, her head bowed over Toby. He eased under the covers and sat back, not quite looking at her. "You gonna talk to me?" She nodded briefly, keeping her head down. "You know how I would take Toby on away missions?" she said, her voice muffled against the targ's furry hide. "Yeah..." "Well, sometimes, when you were on away missions, and I was...lonely, sometimes I would--" She stopped abruptly, biting her lip in consternation. Tom smiled. He couldn't help it. "You would sleep with Toby because you missed me." B'Elanna raised her head, glaring at him. "Yes, I did." "And...did you sleep better that way?" he asked. "Oh--" She flung herself back against the pillows in defeat, still holding on to Toby. "Yes," she admitted, giving him another furious look. Tom gazed up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "I see. And was this before or after we were sleeping together?" He knew he was asking for it, but B'Elanna held herself in restraint and did not lose her temper. She merely sighed, shaking her head in dismay. "I certainly hope our daughter does not inherit your warped sense of humor," she said primly. "Ahh, but you love me in spite of that, don't you?" he asked, turning over and grinning at her. B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "For some unfathomable reason, yes." He leaned closer and kissed her cheek. "I really was kidding, B'Elanna, but if you think sleeping with Toby now will help, then I think it's a great idea." She stared at him in disbelief. "You do?" she asked, almost shyly. "Sure--anything that will help you sleep well is fine with me." "Okay," she said, with a pleased smile. She settled down against the pillows, carefully arranging the covers around her and Toby. Then she gave Tom a sideways glance. "On one condition." "What?" "That you sleep with Mr. Binky." Tom bolted upright, totally mortified. She'd gotten him again--but good. "B'Elanna!" She gazed at him placidly, but there was an evil glint in her eyes. "You said anything, Tom," she reminded him sweetly. "Now, go get him." Tom Paris had done many brave, difficult things in his life. He'd done stupid, reckless things. He'd done kind, compassionate things. And he really hadn't thought he'd regret replicating a simple toy. He did the only thing he could. He got out of bed, walked those few steps to the crib, and picked up Mr. Binky. Without a word, he turned, walked back, and got into bed with the stuffed horse tucked under one arm. His wife watched him, smiling. She looked very content and peaceful, and that almost made it worthwhile. "Good night, Tom," B'Elanna said. "Good night, B'Elanna," he replied with as much dignity as he could. "Computer, lights." Darkness and stillness settled over the Paris-Torres quarters. Trying not to think about their "guests," Tom lay awake, listening. He didn't hear the usual rustling noises as B'Elanna sought a comfortable position, nor did he hear her murmuring to a restless passenger. What he did hear, much sooner that he could have hoped, was something he was well-attuned to, despite its frequent absence of late. It was the rhythm of B'Elanna's breathing growing ever more quiet and steady, as she slipped into a deep, sound sleep. Well, score one for Toby, he thought, smiling in the dark. He turned over, and then remembered Mr. Binky. He froze, as an odd thought suddenly struck him. B'Elanna had gone to sleep, with Toby clutched against her, probably in the same way she'd slept with her Teddy as a child. And without even realizing it, he'd positioned the toy horse exactly as he'd slept with its predecessor when he was a small boy, tucked under one arm by his side. When he'd rolled over just now, he'd unconsciously done it the same way as he had years and years ago, keeping the toy securely in place. Well, not that they were going to make a habit of this or anything, but damn it, it somehow felt right. Score one for Mr. Binky, then, Tom thought, and he drifted peacefully off to sleep. --- *A brief explanation. The original notes to "No Good Deed, or Stuff and Nonsense" contained the following: "And apologies to Mr. Binky. Maybe another time." When I decided, about a year ago, that I wanted to write a story about Toby the Targ, my first idea was to have B'Elanna get revenge on Tom for telling Seven about Toby, by telling Seven about a toy that Tom owned...Mr. Binky. I couldn't get that idea to work, but when I was inspired by a mention of Toby in Annie's "Inner Landscape," I came up with the "origin" of Toby as recounted in "No Good Deed..." Poor Mr. Binky got put on hold. But now his story is known. I'm not sure why he's a Mr., but he's Binky in honor of a character in Terry Pratchett's Discworld books--the horse ridden by Death. Really. Binky's a very nice horse, and the Death of Discworld is just an anthropomorphic personification who's not cruel, just terribly, terribly good at his job. --- The End