The BLTS Archive- Warmth II: Scenes from a Mating
#5: Gramps
by J. A. Toner (jamelia116@aol.com)

---

Archive:  ASC, PTC, PTF OK. All others, please ask.

Time setting:  Late 4th season, Warmth AU

Author's Note: I've dabbled in a little Vulcan verse. I know
there are books written about Klingonese, but if there's one out
there about how to speak Vulcan, I've managed to miss it.
Anyone who might be offended, please forgive me.
Thanks are due: to my beta readers pjs, tracy, patti and ann. I
appreciate all your help!

October, 2000

---

From his many years of observing the humans who served with
him on Starfleet vessels, Tuvok had learned to recognize the
patterns of each shift which reflected the human day. Even
when those experiencing that "day" had not spent significant
amounts of time planetside in any solar system, familiar or new,
for several years, the rhythmic pattern of a typical day was
always present.

It was of no consequence that the concept of "day" was an
artificial construct in the vastness of the interstellar regions, nor
that a normal day was not the same length of time for everyone
on board Voyager. Those originating on planets with a different
rate of rotation than Earth's--namely, all of the non-Terran
crew--were used to a different length day than the standard
adopted by the Federation, itself a compromise length between
the 24 hours of the Earth day and the somewhat longer Vulcan
one. Beings of any race which required a resting/sleep period
(which was all of the known humanoid species and most of the
non-humanoid ones) needed time structured in a predictable
manner in order to function properly. Intriguing, and undeniably
true, even for Vulcans such as himself. Lieutenant Commander
Tuvok, Chief Tactical Officer and Head of Security of Voyager,
could well appreciate the need for structure to maintain order
and discipline.

So it was that during Alpha shift, most of the exploration,
research, and repair work was undertaken aboard ship, since
about half of the crew was on duty then on any given stardate.
During Gamma shift, the least amount of productive work was
done, as less than a tenth of the ship's complement was
scheduled during this, the primary sleeping period aboard ship.
Only during a crisis situation, when everyone had their own
duty station to report to, was the full complement of staff
awake and at their posts. No one could schedule in advance for
a crisis, of course, and in any event, the adrenaline levels of
humanoids shot up to compensate for the necessity of awaking
those who were asleep. The titillation engendered by out-of-
the-ordinary events tended to negate any feelings of resentment
about being dragged out of bed early (if one had had the chance
to retire at all). Fortunately, this did not happen very often on
any shift. So, when asked, those on Gamma shift generally
expressed the opinion that they were protecting the Voyager
community from danger while the majority of the crew slept.
They were caretakers, of a sort--although that word was seldom
used. It had unpleasant connotations for this crew.

Gamma shift was not usually a very taxing time for one to be at
one's post, Tuvok had found. It was possible to remain
completely alert and have plenty of time for contemplation. For
this reason, a significant segment of the Voyager population
actually preferred Gamma shift. Commander Chakotay never
seemed to have any trouble staffing Gamma with those who
were perfectly content to be scheduled for that time of day.

And then there was Beta shift.

Beta shift was a hybrid, falling as it did in between the bustle of
activities performed during Alpha shift and the quiet, marking-
time-until-the-beginning-of-the-next-Alpha-shift texture of
Gamma. Early in Beta shift, many of the crew who had not
quite completed tasks upon which they had been engaged
during Alpha shift would either remain in place to finish or
would be forced to brief their replacements on what still needed
to be accomplished. Only then could they retire for an evening
meal. Some chose to go to the mess hall for some fellowship
with their crew members. Others chose to have dinner in the
privacy of their quarters. Still others didn't care where or what
they ate, preferring to grab something quickly so that they could
use the exercise room or indulge in an excursion to one of the
holodecks.

Gradually the activity level would decline throughout Beta shift,
therefore, until, towards the end, it was often quieter and more
contemplative a time than Gamma shift. While some of this
increasing quiet was due to the completion of  the day's tasks,
there was another explanation which fit the facts.

Mutual misery.

During Beta shift, those who were assigned to Alpha could
congregate with their fellows after going off duty. Those on
Gamma could spend a large part of the ship's "day" sleeping, yet
they still had ample time to enjoy any of a variety of social
activities before reporting to their stations.

Those on duty for Beta, however, were stuck. Except for their
mid-shift meal or other, even briefer breaks, those who served
on this shift were responsible for keeping the ship and its
residents safe while everyone else on board seemed to be having
fun. Since virtually everyone hated to be on Beta shift, there
was a natural tendency to sulk as the shift wore on.

The only ones who never expressed their loathing for Beta shift
happened to be Lieutenant Commander Tuvok and his fellow
Vulcan officer, Ensign Vorik, neither of whom would ever
admit to loathing anything. Not coincidentally, both Vulcans
tended to be scheduled for more than the average share of Beta
shifts by Commander Chakotay.

On this particular evening, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok was
sitting in the captain's chair on the bridge, awaiting the end of
Beta shift. It had been a long day. He had been on duty for the
first half of Alpha at Tactical, as well as in command of the ship
all evening. In less than thirty minutes, however, he would be
able to proceed to his quarters and meditate. Tuvok looked
forward to practicing the mental disciplines he had learned long
ago on Vulcan. Although he had never admitted it to anyone,
meditation was essential for the maintenance of his self-control.
He anticipated being released from duty by the arrival of
Lieutenant Paris, who was to be in command during Gamma
shift, as he had been frequently of late. Lieutenant Torres was
available to care of their infant daughter Linnis during ship's
night, as Mr. Paris was during ship's day.

Neither one worked during Beta shift, of course. The two
lieutenants shared taking care of Linnis then. That was 'family
time'--naturally.

Tuvok stifled a sudden, inappropriate impulse to sigh. He
reminded himself, once again, that the hours to which he was
assigned to perform his duties were of no consequence. Suffice
it to say that this evening, he would very much welcome the
arrival of Mr. Paris to take command of the bridge. Gamma
shift . . . when he could finally retire to his quarters to meditate
upon . . .

Tuvok's visualization of his future endeavors was broken by the
beeping of his comm badge. As soon as the channel opened, he
knew the likely speaker and message. The loud shrieks of Linnis
Paris virtually drowned out her father's voice. "Tuvok, I'm
sorry. I'm going to be late for my shift. Can you cover for me?"

Tuvok hesitated only briefly before replying, "Of course, Mr.
Paris." Obviously, "What seems to be the difficulty?" was an
unnecessary question. "Has your daughter been crying in this
fashion for long?"

"For the last couple of hours," the lieutenant answered, the
strain from being unable to still  his child's crying easily heard in
the tight sound of his voice. "She's been having colic every night
for over a week. We're taking her in to see the Doc . . . again . .
. to see if he's found anything to help her yet."

"Understood. What time do you expect to be able to report?"

"I don't know, Tuvok. It'll be an hour, at least--maybe longer,
judging from our last few visits there. We really need to get
some answers soon, she's so . . . There, there, Sweetheart. It's
going to be okay. Daddy's here."

This last, Tuvok realized immediately, was directed to the
distressed infant who was screaming even more loudly in the
helmsman's ear than when the comm channel first opened. It did
not sound as if relief would be coming soon for her, even with
the Doctor's medical expertise. So far, the child had not
responded to his treatments--which meant that Tuvok could not
expect to be relieved from command any time soon, either--
unless . . . "Perhaps you will not need to report this evening at
all if Ensign Kim is willing to switch Gamma shifts with you. He
is scheduled for tomorrow night."

"Thanks, Tuvok. If you can arrange that, I'd be very grateful,"
Tom replied, strengthening his voice to be heard over his
daughter's cries.

"I will notify you as soon as I speak with Mr. Kim. Tuvok out."
In the sudden silence on the bridge, Lieutenant Baxter's soft
"Whew!" issuing from his station at Ops resounded noticably.
The lieutenant exchanged an abashed look of apology with his
commanding officer, followed by a sympathetic one. It was
universally acknowledged that extending one's duty shift past
the end of Beta was to be avoided at all costs. 

After a discreet nod to thank Mr. Baxter for his expression of
condolences, Tuvok activated his comm badge and contacted
Ensign Kim. Fortunately, Mr. Kim was just as eager to take
command of the bridge a day earlier than expected as Tuvok
had thought he would be. It was, after all, a *Gamma* shift.

---

While waiting for Mr. Kim to arrive, during those rare moments
when his attention was not consumed by ship's matters, Tuvok
considered the status of the youngest inhabitants of the ship. In
the closed society of Voyager, the entire crew was proving to
be just as proprietary over Linnis as they had been over Naomi
when she was a newborn, especially now that young Miss
Wildman's Ktarian blood was causing her to grow out of
toddlerhood by leaps and bounds. Everyone on Voyager had
become either "Auntie" or "Uncle" to the two youngsters.
Unsurprisingly, Linnis Paris' increasing distress had been a
frequent subject of discussion for Voyager's crew during the
past week.

It was not only a matter of Linnis being unhappy, as Tuvok well
knew. The bridge was different when Mr. Paris was not at his
usual place. It was a more solemn, dignified place, certainly,
without Lieutenant Paris in attendence; but Tuvok did not find
this to be as desirable a situation as he once might have
expected.

While Mr. Paris often made offhand, even sarcastic, comments
on the bridge, Tuvok's impulse to discipline the helmsman was
tempered by the fact that the captain could often be seen to
smile--or more accurately, to try to stifle a laugh--at the pilot's
witty remarks. Tuvok knew how effective humor was in
providing humans with stress relief. In his opinion, anything
which could reduce the captain's stress was to be tolerated, if
not encouraged.

Too often of late, Captain Janeway's behavior appeared to be
erratic, sometimes to the point of obsessiveness, to her security
chief. This, he believed, was attributible to the intense pressures
placed upon her by their unique situation in the Delta Quadrant.
Her inability to consult with more senior command staff,
compounded by her need to follow to the letter regulations
requiring she remain apart from the crew despite her naturally
gregarious nature had had a profound effect on her ability to
maintain her equilibrium. While she occasionally engaged in
solitary pursuits such as reading or holodeck programs, the
captain was not a woman who thrived on being alone. The
disciplines of the mind which provided Tuvok with solace
during his enforced separation from his family were foreign to
her own natural inclinations.

Since Mr. Paris' humorous asides were among the very few
devices which could break through to the real Kathryn Janeway,
Tuvok could not bring himself to reprimand the young pilot
harshly, even if normal command protocols might suggest
otherwise. Voyager's situation could not, by any stretch of one's
imagination, be considered normal. A more flexible course
seemed eminently logical.

By the same token, the absence of B'Elanna Torres from
Engineering when she needed to comfort her daughter was
equally upsetting to the crew, even though everyone understood
and accepted the reason for her absence. Lieutenant Torres'
engineering skills were so far superior to that of anyone else
(except, possibly, for the captain) that subordinates were
noticeably uneasy whenever she was not at her post. Even
Seven's Borg knowledge was no substitute for Ms. Torres'
ability to define and creatively solve a problem. In the Delta
Quadrant, so far away from the usual sources of materials and
support personnel, engineering snafus were the norm, not the
exception. Being able to compensate for the scarcity of
resources had been a key factor in the ability of Voyager and
her crew to survive thus far, even under markedly hostile
conditions. The chief engineer's staff "felt" more secure when
she was in charge.

Tuvok had long since given up on trying to talk away the crew's
emotionalism. He only knew that he himself, as head of
Security, preferred to see the captain confidently in command of
the ship and Lieutenant Torres at her post in Engineering, ready
to combat the worst obstacles that the Delta Quadrant could
throw in their way. The distraction of a colicky baby was not
appreciated by anyone, particularly Lieutenant Commander
Tuvok.

It was predictable, then, that after much discussion, the ship's
populace had made up a list of  various homeopathic remedies
to combat Linnis' condition. They'd presented it to Paris and
Torres, much to the Doctor's displeasure--even though he had
been proposing a multitude of ways to relieve the youngster
himself.

Hybrid babies like Linnis were a challenge, even for the EMH.
It was illogical to assume that folk medicines would work when
the Doctor's most sophisticated treatments had failed.
Lieutenant Commander Tuvok refrained from intervening. If the
search for a remedy diverted the attention of the engineering
staff and kept them from becoming unduly alarmed, he saw no
reason to order them to stop their investigations. Unfortunately,
to date, none of the concoctions suggested had worked.
Perhaps it was time for another approach.

When Mr. Kim came onto the bridge only a minute late, close
on the heels of Ensign Jenkins and Mr. Ayala, Tuvok quickly
made his status report. "You are relieved, Commander," Harry
stated eagerly when Tuvok had finished. Over eagerly, one
might say. Ignoring the comment he was about to make to the
young officer, Tuvok prepared to leave.

"Will you be in your quarters . . . in case I . . . just in case?"
Harry asked quietly, so softly that it was likely only Tuvok's
sharp ears could have caught the last phrase.

"I intend to stop in at Sickbay. One of my children, early in
infancy, exhibited symptoms similar to those which are causing
Linnis Paris to suffer. I may be of some assistance to Mr. Paris
and Ms. Torres."

"Chamomile tea."

"What, Mr. Kim?"

"My mother swore by chamomile tea. I replicated them some,
but B'Elanna is afraid to give any to Linnis. The Doc scared her
when she told B'Elanna the baby might be allergic to it, but
maybe if it comes from you . . . " Mr. Kim said hopefully.

Tuvok raised his left eyebrow thoughtfully. "I am familiar with
the herb's properties from my time on Earth. I will consider
suggesting it. If my analysis of the true nature of the problem is
correct, another course of action may prove just as beneficial.
At any rate, Mr. Kim, you now have the bridge."

"Aye, sir!" Harry replied heartily, beaming with pride. As he
turned to enter the turbolift,  Tuvok's eyes met those of Mr.
Ayala, who was smiling broadly. Tuvok nodded to his
subordinate, who anwered with a dip of his head to
acknowledge it. There was no need for concern about Mr.
Kim's assumption of bridge duty with Ayala's steady, silent
support at tactical. 

As the turbolift door closed, Tuvok heard Mr. Kim ask for the
helm status report in a tone of voice remarkably like the
captain's, followed by Ensign Jenkin's quick, business-like reply.
Tuvok revised his assessment. While it was expedient that Mr.
Ayala was on duty for Ensign Kim's first full shift command, it
was likely that the ship was in good hands with Mr. Kim, with
or without Ayala's presence.

---

". . . nothing is working, Doctor! We've tried everything and
just listen to her! We might as well try that camel tea Harry
suggested!"

"Chamomile," Tom corrected, gently patting B'Elanna on the
back to calm her down. B'Elanna's agitation seemed to be
making the wailing baby in her arms cry even harder.

"Whatever! Anything, to get her to sleep!"

"Lieutenant Torres, I have some grave concerns about the
effects that tea might have on her immature digestive system."

"Maybe we should try just a little, Doc? Can it really hurt her
that much? Nothing else is working the way you expect," Tom
said carefully. He didn't want provoke the EMH, but Tom was
willing to try almost anything to relieve his daughter's distress,
just as B'Elanna was.

"I'd prefer to take a more cautious approach. Linnis' mixed
Klingon and human digestive enzymes at this stage of life are
causing pockets of gas which . . . "

"Which is exactly what Harry said the chamomile tea is
supposed to help," Tom replied, trying to keep his voice level,
though his nerves were frayed by the crying.

"If my medications haven't worked, it is doubtful that giving her
an infusion of dried flowers in water which has not been
extensively tested as to its effects on Klingons would help her,
either. Trust the two of you to have a baby that doesn't respond
to medication in predictable ways," the Doctor added with a
sniff.

As B'Elanna visibly stiffened in anger, Linnis screeched out an
even sharper shriek of pain. Tom took Linnis out of B'Elanna's
arms to try to soothe her--to soothe all of them, if truth be told.
He was concentrating so intensely on murmuring comfortingly
to his daughter that he was unaware that the Sickbay doors had
opened until Tuvok offered, "May I be of assistance to you, Mr.
Paris?"

"Thanks, Tuvok but I wouldn't want to burden you. The way
Linnis is now, it would be pretty hard on a Vulcan."

"May I remind you, Lieutenant, that as a parent, I have had to
deal with a crying infant on many occasions. I doubt that
holding your daughter would be a 'burden' to me no matter how
hard she cries."

"Vulcan babies cry?" asked Tom in surprise.

"Certainly. Vulcan babies express their distress when they are
uncomfortable like any other species. All newborn organisms
must adjust to new environmental conditions. Floating in warm
waters of amniotic fluid is a totally different experience from
being carried in the arms of a parent, with the skin assailed by
what must appear to the newborn's senses as parchingly dry air.
Although on Voyager Earth standards of humidity are
maintained, it is a shock to the baby's system, nevertheless. On
Vulcan, this contrast is even greater. When the conditions of the
birth were somewhat chaotic, as they were in Linnis' case, this
transition can be even more bewildering to the newborn."

"I can't deny that," Tom said, flashing back to the delivery of his
baby in the middle of Engineering, in the midst of the Hirogen
crisis.

"Ingesting nourishment via the mouth is also very different from
her previous experience, when she effortlessly obtained all
necessary nutrients directly into her bloodstream through the
placenta," Tuvok continued. "Now she must make a significant
effort by sucking at the breast to obain milk. The process of
digesting food is very new to her. I believe this is your
hypoththesis, Doctor? That her digestive system has not yet
adjusted properly to the food she must eat?"

"Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I . . ."

"While this may be true, her mother's milk remains the best food
for her, is it not, Doctor?"

"Yes, but . . ."

"Rather than introducing other substances to her diet at this
time, other ways of calming her may be indicated." Tuvok had
adeptly removed Linnis from Tom's arms and settled her into his
own, nodding thoughtfully as he stroked the baby's back. "I
must concur with the Doctor's diagnosis. Linnis is suffering
abdominal pain, with a high probability that the supposition
about gas from an incompletely matured digestive system is
correct. The intake of air from crying has exacerbated her
discomfort. This condition is not unknown in Vulcan infants.
My second son Varith was afflicted with this problem during his
first two months of life. The recommended treatment for a
Vulcan infant include being held by the parent, with changes of
position, manipulation of the back, and rhythmic movements
while soothing sounds are made."

"We've been doing that, Tuvok! It hasn't been working!" cried
B'Elanna, her voice sharpened by fatigue.

"Just because it has not yet worked does not mean it never will.
You must persevere, Lieutenant--or allow me to assist you."

"You're a stranger to her. Won't that make her worse?"

"On the contrary, since you are upset, your own anxiety is being
communicated to her, worsening her condition. I have a degree
of detachment in this situation that may help you both while you
attempt to calm yourself."

"Calm! How can I stay calm when my baby is shrieking in
pain?" B'Elanna asked through clenched teeth.

"Of course it is difficult for a new parent to hear one's child
suffer in this way. Crying is meant to be disquieting. In this way
the infant can be assured of obtaining assistance." Tuvok's
carefully modulated voice became even mellower. He spoke
deliberately, in a cadence that was more like a chant or song
than normal speech. All the while, he rocked Linnis steadily,
like a pendulum. Suddenly, the baby pulled up her legs. After
the hiss of expelling gas was heard, Linnis' crying lessened
noticably.

The Doctor hrumphed and said, somewhat sarcastically, "Thank
you, Commander. This has been a most helpful demonstration .
. ."

"The Doc's right. You have the magic touch! Thanks, Tuvok,"
Tom said sincerely as B'Elanna reached out for their daughter.

Tuvok hesitated a moment before reluctantly relinquishing his
small charge. "There are other techniques which can be used to
assist Linnis. I can share them with you, if you wish."

"Thanks, Commander, but I'm sure we can . . ."

Linnis' renewed cry of anguish rudely interrupted her mother's
comment. Smoothly, Tuvok interceded again, plucking the child
from her mother's arms. Tuvok's body swayed gently as he
walked slowly around the perimeter of sickbay at a measured,
stately pace, all the while patting Linnis on the back. "I would
recommend that someone other than yourself be the one to
soothe Linnis when she becomes upset. The scent of the
mother, as the source of food, can be overstimulating to a new
baby."

"But . . ."

"Which is exactly what I told you several hours ago, Lieutenant
Torres," said the EMH, "and yesterday, and the day before
that."

Tom embraced his wife a little more tightly as her anger
threatened to erupt forcefully. "B'Elanna, they might have a
point. She does seem to do a little better when I'm holding her.
Although . . . Tuvok, how are you doing that? She's really
quieted down for you." With every step Tuvok took, Linnis'
cries became less intense. In the time it took for Tuvok to make
one full circuit of the room, they had been reduced to a muted
whimpering, although from the jerky way Linnis was moving in
Tuvok's arms, Tom could tell gas pains were still bothering her.

"I am projecting quieting thoughts--orderly thoughts."

"Are you saying that you are mind melding with my baby?"
B'Elanna asked dangerously.

Tuvok replied in a whisper soft voice, "I am not melding with
her mind in the normal sense. It is too unformed at this time for
that. I am sending her images of peace and tranquility, however.
It is very important for the parent to remain completely calm at
times like these."

"And we all know how good I am at being calm!" B'Elanna
hissed, as Tom restrained her from launching herself at the
Vulcan.

"B'Elanna, maybe we shouldn't argue with success," Tom said
placatingly. "Look. I think Linnis is actually falling asleep in
Tuvok's arms!"

B'Elanna leaned back against him at that. It was undeniably
true. Linnis was bumping her forehead against Tuvok's
shoulder, but her eyes were drifting closed despite her efforts to
keep them open.

Unperturbed, Tuvok lectured, "Sleep is what she requires at this
time. Relaxing leads to the release of the gasses that are
troubling her. Releasing the gas removes the pain. Normally,
this would allow her to fall asleep. However, even when there is
no pain, she has learned to expect it will come again. She is
overtired from crying, making her too tense to rest. By
maintaining an inner calm, I am removing one obstacle to her
being able of relaxing enough to fall asleep."

"I see," B'Elanna said reluctantly.

"Lieutenant, you have nothing to fear. Your daughter is learning
something vital: that although pains may afflict her, they will
eventually pass--once she stops crying. Allow me to provide the
first lessons in organizing the mind a Vulcan infant undergoes,
preparing him or her for future training in the mental disciplines.
If I do this, she may not react so strongly to a minor pain the
next time. Another episode of colic may be circumvented."

"But Linnis isn't Vulcan."

"No, but that does not mean she cannot benefit from what
Vulcan infants receive from their parents. Vulcans are not born
with the ability to be telepathic; emotional control is a
discipline; it is not inherent in our natures. It must be taught.
The first lessons are given by the parents while nurturing their
infants. Although Linnis may not be able to go on as Vulcan
children do, since she is not born of a telepathic race, the initial
lessons should calm her. A calm infant of any race will
experience less pain."

"How did you find out this would work for babies that weren't
Vulcan, Tuvok?" asked Tom.

"During my years teaching at Starfleet Academy I had occasion
to assist colleagues with their children. My services were
frequently sought out by other officers with new infants."

"I'll just bet they were," Tom said, smiling at the sight of his
daughter, every muscle totally lax in Tuvok's arms as she slept
soundly at long last.

"I would also be willing to provide both of you with instructions
in techniques to control your emotions if you wish, to help you
maintain an inner calm while you care for your child." Tuvok
chanted, following it with a song in Vulcan that sounded like a
lullaby.

B'Elanna crossed her arms in front of her, her body rigidly erect
in a pose that was anything but relaxed. Tom leaned her back
against his chest, embracing her so that he could hold her back if
she became angry again. Gradually, the tension ebbed from her.
Tuvok's gentle singing of a repetitive Vulcan melody to the
sleeping baby seemed to be having the same effect on B'Elanna
as it had on Linnis.

"Not that I want to interfere with these very stimulating lessons
in Vulcan child-rearing, but if Linnis is no longer in need of my
services, perhaps she would be more comfortable in her *own
crib*?" The EMH tapped his fingers against his crossed elbows
as he softly, but emphatically, made his point.

Tom was amused. The Doc had been ignored in his own domain
for far too long. Clearly, he was no longer willing to tolerate
their continued presence in sickbay. Besides, "You're absolutely
right, Doc. B'Elanna, let's bring Linnis back home so we can all
get some sleep."

"Remember, it's always wise to sleep when the baby sleeps!"
The Doc said, grinning, happy to squeeze in one last bit of
indubitably sound advice.

B'Elanna rolled her eyes at the EMH's comment. Looking over
at Tuvok, however, she hesitated. He was still singing softly to
the baby. She looked so at peace that Tom was as reluctant as
his wife to disturb her. "Tuvok? Could you do us a favor and
walk Linnis to our quarters? I'd hate to rock the boat now."

Without missing a beat of his song, Tuvok replied, in
Federation Standard words matching his melody, "Of course I
will do as you ask, Lieutenants Torres and Paris . . ."

---

Throughout the short journey on the turbolift and through the
quiet, darkened corridors of the ship, Tom worried that little
Linnis would awaken and start to cry again, disrupting the sleep
of their crew mates. He need not have worried. Tuvok's steady
pace and soft singing, nonsense syllables to Tom since he didn't
know Vulcan, was apparently all that was needed to keep the
exhausted baby sleeping soundly.

When they reached their quarters on Deck 9, B'Elanna held out
her arms for her baby. This time, there was no hesitation by
Tuvok as he transferred Linnis into her mother's embrace. All of
them, even Tuvok, held their breath, but the baby did not stir.

B'Elanna strolled slowly to the small room adjoining the living
area to place Linnis in her crib. Normally, Tom would have
gone with them, but tonight he hung back. From where he
stood by the entrance of the family's quarters, Tuvok was in his
line of sight as well. He could see the Vulcan's eyes following
B'Elanna's progress with a strange look upon his face. Tom was
used to seeing Tuvok's face bearing a serene expression, if one
could say he had any expression at all. This time, Tom would
say Tuvok was watching mother and child with a look of
longing.

Tom was about to dismiss his perception as a ridiculous fancy
until he remembered how peeved Tuvok could get at Neelix,
especially when the Talaxian's eagerness to be the best morale
officer on any Federation vessel in the galaxy became too
obtrusive for the Vulcan to ignore. He remembered how
distinctly annoyed Tuvok had been with Tom's suggestions on
how to finish the Insurrection Alpha program, and how solemn
and deep his silence had been after his protogee Kes had left
Voyager. Tom recalled the quiet pride he had detected in the
Vulcan's manner after Captain Janeway had bestowed upon him
his promotion to lieutenant commander. Especially, he realized
how gently protective Tuvok had been towards the Drayan
"children" who were so frightened by the "final rituals" they had
come to a distant moon to observe. He had eased Tressa's fears
by staying with her when the truth was discovered: that the
"children" were dying of old age.

And then one more memory pushed forward into Tom's mind.
At the time, he had been so overwhelmed with churning,
conflicting emotions from his own letter from home--or at least
the tiny fragment that B'Elanna had been able to salvage out of
the data stream--to think much about anyone else's. Tuvok had
received a letter from his wife T'Pel, a letter filled with
wonderful news for her husband about his family--in particular,
news of the child who had been born to Tuvok's eldest son Sek
since his absence. That granddaughter, barring a miracle, would
be long out of infancy before Tuvok would ever lay eyes on
her--should he ever be lucky enough to see her at all,
considering the distances they still must traverse.

Tuvok had saved Tom's sanity as well as his life when he had
been unjustly accused of murder by the Baneans. They had
struggled together to survive the holodeck program that Seska
had tampered with before she had defected to the Kazon.
Tuvok had saved B'Elanna when the Mari were going to excise
her "violent" engrams from her brain, threatening to damage her
mind and possibly the fetal Linnis' life. When B'Elanna and Tom
had had that serious misunderstanding, Tuvok had helped Tom
by providing lessons in Vulcan calming techniques to Tom
himself.

In the time it took for B'Elanna to disappear from view as she
put her daughter to bed, Tom gained a tremendous insight into
how much he owed Tuvok for his present happiness. He
realized something else, too. When Tuvok spoke of the need for
disciplining oneself  every day to maintain inner calm and
emotional control, he was speaking of his own need for stability
and order. From Vorik's emotional response to B'Elanna during
his pon farr, Tom knew exactly how violent Vulcan emotions
could be. There was much more to Tuvok's nightly meditations
than Vulcan philosophy, Tom suddenly understood. Vulcan
discipline allowed Tuvok to live amongst openly emotional
humans without being embarrassed by losing control of his
own--except for the occasional slip, especially when Neelix was
buzzing around him.

Although Tom owed Tuvok much, there might be something
Tom and B'Elanna could do for him that, in an ironic way,
would help out Tom and B'Elanna, too--and especially, help
their daughter.

"Tuvok, I'm so grateful to you for helping Linnis this way,"
Tom began. ''I don't know how we can ever repay you . . ."

"No repayment is needed, Mr. Paris. I am pleased to be of
service to your family."

Tom grinned sheepishly. "Well, that's good, Tuvok, because I
think I need to ask you another favor. I'm going to *have* to
show up for duty tomorrow night, and if Linnis has colic again,
it's going to be really tough on B'Elanna. She's due on duty
tomorrow at 0700, and I don't think she'll be getting much rest
tonight . . ."

"I will be off duty all day and night tomorrow, Mr. Paris. I
could come to your quarters in the evening to stay with Linnis.
Perhaps the two of you could have a quiet meal together in the
mess hall."

"That would be just great."

Tuvok raised a quizzical eyebrow, just as Tom had hoped. He'd
been very careful to include just the slightest bit of resignation
in his voice, confident that Tuvok would pick it up.

"Mr. Paris, I have another proposal. Perhaps it would be more
. . . restful . . . for you and Lieutenant Torres to take your
evening meal in your quarters while I care for Linnis in mine."

"That's even better, Tuvok. At least you'd be home; you'd be
able to meditate once you got her to sleep. I'd hate to put you
out even more than you already will be, just by taking care of
her."

"I will not be 'put out' by taking care of Linnis," Tuvok said, his
eyebrow again in the air. "It is the responsibility of the elder
generations to care for the youngest." Tuvok paused, his
features flickering for a slight instant into an expression that
Tom could read easily, now that he knew to look for it. "In fact,
I look upon it as a privilege. Were I home on Vulcan, I would
be serving in the same capacity to my son Sek's daughter
T'Meni."

"Thank you, Tuvok," Tom said sincerely, glad that his train of
reasoning was as in tune with Tuvok's in this instance.

"Thanks from me, too, Tuvok," B'Elanna said as she
approached the door where Tom and Tuvok were still standing.
"I wish you could be here every night to put her to sleep!"

"I believe that Mr. Paris and I were thinking along similar lines,
Lieutenant. I am sure he will explain it to you. I will now take
my leave. Until tomorrow night."

"Actually, it'll be later tonight, Tuvok," Tom remarked, not
wanting to risk any misunderstandings. "It's almost 0200
already."

"Yes. You are correct. I will see you later this evening."
Tuvok's slight bow of the head was matched by Tom's.

"What was that all about?" B'Elanna asked after Tuvok had left.

"Let's just say that with 'Gramps' taking care of Linnis, I have a
hunch everything around here will go a lot more smoothly. For
all of us."

---

". . . and the diapers are in this bag . . . and here's a bottle of
milk from B'Elanna. You won't have to replicate any . . ."

"Mr. Paris, you are going to be spending the next few hours in
your quarters before going on duty. I know where to find you.
There is no need to become obsessive over every little detail of
what is in the diaper bag."

B'Elanna laughed as she patted her baby's back. Linnis was
already being held by Tuvok. "I think that's exactly what Tom's
afraid of! Seriously, if you need anything, just call us and we'll
be here."

"I am certain all will be well. She is becoming calmer as we
speak."

"I can see that too, Tuvok," Tom said. The baby's crankiness--
nowhere near as bad as the previous night but still somewhat
upsetting--had dissipated almost as soon as Tuvok had begun to
hold her. The baby was wriggling a little, but in the way that
usually meant she was getting comfortable enough to sleep.
Tom bent down and kissed the top of Linnis' head. B'Elanna
followed suit, and then, at Tuvok's urging, they departed for
their own evening of peace.

Once he was alone with Linnis, Tuvok slowly paced around his
quarters. When he reached the holographic projector holding
pictures of his family, he stopped, settling Linnis into the crook
of his left elbow. This enabled him to touch the controls and
introduce his family while still rocking her from side to side.
"This is Sek. He is my firstborn child, as you are your parents'. I
do not have an image of his wife and his daughter T'Meni, but I
am certain they will be pleased to meet you when Voyager
returns to the Alpha Quadrant. This image is of my only
daughter Asil, the last born of my children. This is my second
son Varith with his younger brother Elieth. They will wish to
meet you someday, too.

"And this image is of T'Pel, the mother of my children and my
bonded wife. Although she is far from me, we are never truly
parted. You cannot understand such a concept as yet, but if you
were old enough to understand such a thing, I could not tell it
to you. Illogical, you may think, but true, nonetheless. Such is
the way of my race. The bonds uniting us into families are
strong, but we do not speak of this to outsiders. In your case, I
will make an exception. I trust that you will share this
confidence with no one."

Tuvok turned Linnis towards him so that he could look into her
face. She waved her arms at him but did not cry. Her open eyes
returned his gaze; her face bearing an expression as grave as the
one on his. Solemnly bowing his head to her, Tuvok added, "I
knew I could count upon your discretion."

Leaving the holographic projector on, with T'Pel's image visible,
Tuvok moved towards his viewport and inquired, "My race
prefers to communicate what others do through words in a
song. Would you care to hear some music I recorded for you
last night, after I returned to my quarters?" The baby met his
gaze, blowing bubbles from her perfectly formed bow lips. "I
take your silence as assent. You are a most perceptive and
diligent student. Computer, play music program Tuvok Theta
Rho Two."

As the music began to swell, Tuvok explained, "The instrument
playing is a Vulcan lute. The selections were favorites of my
own children. Some are lullabyes and others are teaching songs
for the very young. I trust you will find them instructive and
entertaining, as well as soothing."

The melody that Tuvok had sung to Linnis on the previous
night began to play. Tuvok placed Linnis back up to his
shoulder. He sang the words softly:


		ka-ta'-lu sa-va-tri,
		ma-va-la, tov ka-sa-tri
		voor-me, la la-le mi-ka-'av-to
		ka-'av-tov a-mal iv-a-mantro . . .

		Calm yourself as I rock you
		in my arms. To sleep now
		my small one, allow me to guide you
		I guide you to your rest . . .

His circuit of his quarters, by this time, had left him to stand by
the large viewport of his cabin. Silhouetted against the stars
glimmering through the window with the glow from the flame
of his meditation lamp lighting his face, Tuvok rocked slowly
from side to side in perfect synchronization to the melody,
cradling the tiny form of Linnis upon his chest. Gradually, the
weight of the baby in his arms grew heavier as the music and
the calming thoughts he was projecting worked their magic
upon her.

Long after the peacefully sleeping infant had melted into the
very image of innocence, the century-old Vulcan faced in the
direction of his far-distant home, his mellow baritone floating its
gentle song through the air.

If his thoughts were as much upon the child whom he had never
met as they were upon the one sleeping in his arms, none would
blame him, Linnis' parents least of all.

---

The End