The BLTS Archive - A Breath in the Wintertime
Second in the Firefly series
by Charlene (charlene.vickers@gmail.com)

---

A sequel to "The Flash of a Firefly", beginning four months
after that story ends.

Disclaimer: Yeah, like Paramount would ever want this.

Archive: trekiverse.org, ASCEML, wherever I end up posting
it myself on LJ, please ask otherwise

Warning: Mpreg! Run away! Run away!

Note: Thank you JA Ingram for your betaing and for your
numerous suggestions.

--- What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night.
It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the
little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself
in the sunset.

 -- Crowfoot, 1890
---

Miles rubbed his eyes as the letters on the screen began to
swim. Principles of Temporal Mechanics had to be one of the
driest engineering journals around, but if he was going to
fix the mess he had to examine every possibility. Seven
months of teaching himself everything there was to know
about temporal science, seven months of poring over ancient
journals and even hard-copy texts had got him nowhere. But
this...

A footnote to an article in the latest issue had mentioned
something called the 'light-speed breakaway factor', also
known as the 'slingshot method', a temporal displacement
method used three times (by James Kirk, of all people) to
travel to the distant past. It hadn't been discussed much
according to the journal, though. The consensus among
temporal scientists was that the calculations were far too
complex and the science far too tenuous to be able to
predict where exactly the incursion would occur. But if the
article he had found was correct, he could narrow down the
arrival to within one year, and as long as he arrived before
the Defiant did he'd be there to prevent them from changing
the course of time...

"...and one for you..."

He looked over at the busy little girl who was holding a tea
party in the corner with two teddy bears and a stuffed targ.
Busy should be her middle name, he thought: she never
stopped talking, playing, finding things to do. Two and a
half years old she was, tall for her age and smart as a
whip, with his mother's alabaster skin that would never tan
(or likely even freckle) and the brightest red hair this
side of Galway Bay.

Also Julian's eyes, nose, mouth, and chin.

She was Molly, but not.

He returned to his journal as she picked up the teapot and
began to 'pour' for her 'guests'. There had to be a way, he
told himself.

He'd see Keiko and Molly - the real Molly - again.

---

Julian had decided half an hour ago that he would never be
comfortable again.

He punched his pillow and rearranged the covers as he
grumbled to himself. It had been over seven months since he
and Miles, sucked into the past along with the rest of the
Defiant crew by a Klingon intent on killing James Kirk, had
inadvertently interrupted a vicious assault on a young woman
and thereby prevented Keiko's grandfather from being
conceived. Julian's last-ditch attempt to fix the problem
had instead landed the two of them in an alternate timeline
where they were married - to each other - with a
two-year-old daughter and another one on the way. And he,
the skinniest, rangiest Human in two quadrants and a 100%
bona fide male to boot, was carrying the baby.

He closed his eyes and tried to get some rest.

Only to open them ten seconds later to the sight of two
enormous brown eyes staring at him from about three
centimetres away.

"What's wrong, honey?" he asked, pushing himself up on one
elbow.

Molly pouted at him. "Papa, is Dada goin' 'way?"

"Of course he isn't!" he assured her as he sat up and lifted
her onto the bed. "What would make my little bunny think
that?"

She buried her face in the neck of the huge teddy bear she
was clutching. "Tik'ny said Dada gonna go 'way 'cause he
sleeps in the other room."

He could have thonked his head on the headboard. Thank you
Tekeny Garak. "Honey," he began, "Papa and Dada sleep in
different rooms because - we work at different times." A
good an explanation as any, he supposed.

"But Dada's sad," she said, turning back to him. "Tik'ny
says so."

"Tekeny's just a little boy, honey; he doesn't know
everything. Dada's sad because some people he cares about
very much went far, far away, and he and Papa couldn't bring
them home no matter how hard they tried. It has nothing to
do with you or me." He hugged her tightly. "Do you want to
sleep in the big bed with Papa tonight?"

She shook her head as her eyes filled with tears. "I want my
Papa *and* my Dada!"

Oh God...he supposed they'd have to sacrifice some privacy
for the evening. He checked the chrono; Miles would have
gone off shift about an hour ago. "Let's see if Dada's home,
all right?"

"'kay," she pouted, as he carried her into the hall and
knocked on Miles's door.

"Come in."

The door slid open; Julian leaned through the doorway.
"Visitors." He nodded at the girl as he sat at the foot of
the bed with her. "Somebody's worried that you're going to
'go away'."

Miles put his padd aside and sat up. "Now where would you
get that silly idea?" he asked her.

Benny the Bear tumbled to the floor as Molly scrambled out
of Julian's arms and crawled into Miles's lap. "Tik'ny said
you're goin' 'way."

Julian thought for a second that he saw a shadow of real
concern on Miles's face; but no, it was the same fake smile
Miles assumed every time he was forced to acknowledge her.
"Don't you worry. I'm not  going anywhere. Why does he say
that?" he asked, looking over at  Julian.

"We sleep apart because we're on different shifts."

Miles rolled his eyes at Julian. "Honey," he said as he
placed the girl between them, "Dada and Papa sleep apart
because - Dada has to work late and Papa has to work early.
And Papa needs his sleep, so Dada sleeps here so he doesn't
wake Papa up."

She stuck out her lower lip. "But Tik'ny said so!"

"Between you and me, darlin'," Miles said gently, "I
wouldn't believe everything the lad says. Okay?"

"Okay. But Papa and me sleep here."

The adults' eyes met. Miles shrugged.

"How about the big bed instead, hm?" Julian suggested,
doubting that the three of them could fit into the small
spare room bed.

"Yay!" She hopped down, picked up her bear, and ran off.

"You know," Julian said after she left, "Sisko'll kill us
when he finds out she named the bear after him."

Miles shrugged. "Can't see why. Rom mentioned it was his
present to her last Christmas. I was hopin' to get some
reading done on that slingshot idea tonight, but..."

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Bit of a slog, to tell you the truth. Seems more simple on
the surface than it really is." He stood and headed for the
hallway. Julian rose to follow him when a sudden kick
knocked the breath out of his lungs. "Hold on a minute," he
gasped. "She's practising her rugby moves."

"Papa, Dada!" Molly cried from the other room. "Come sleep!"

Their eyes met again. Miles silently put an arm around
Julian's shoulders and led him into the main bedroom.

Molly snuggled into Julian's arms after they lay down with
her and was soon fast asleep. He, on the other hand, was
still getting beaten up.

"What is it?" Miles asked in a low voice.

Again, Julian thought he saw just a hint of actual emotion
in Miles's eyes, but - no, it was just his imagination.
"It's, um..." He looked down at his belly again. "It's
bloody overwhelming, if you want the truth. I know, it was
my choice to continue with this, and I'd make the same
choice again, but sometimes - between the side effects of
the hormones and getting slugged to death from the inside
out every night, it makes me wonder what I was thinking."

Miles snorted. "I've been wonderin' that for years.
Hopefully we'll be back before you have to go much further
with it." He rolled over and returned to his padd.

Suddenly the baby kicked hard again; for a brief second
Julian imagined that she was reacting to what Miles had
said. It was the strangest feeling, he thought: even though
he had delivered dozens of babies and counselled more
expectant parents than he could count, he had never truly
appreciated until now how bizarre it was to have another
living being moving around inside you like some kind of
alien.

He frowned at the back of Miles's head, wondering yet again
how the man found it so easy to pretend that everyone around
him was as unreal as the characters in a holographic
adventure. It wasn't that simple for Julian. Perhaps Miles
could look at the little girl sleeping between them, her
bear clutched tightly to her chest, and feel absolutely
nothing - and he understood that, he did - but Julian simply
couldn't do it. Perhaps he just wasn't as strong as Miles,
or as connected to the old timeline. Or perhaps it was that
this Molly, and the baby as well, represented something that
he had assumed was out of his reach. Perhaps he had just
allowed himself to love her too freely, too fully, and now
that the connection was there he couldn't cut it.

Or perhaps Miles was the one at fault. Julian knew that his
friend was still in mourning. But - and that word
encapsulated the entire problem. There was always a "but" in
Miles's mind. The man couldn't tear himself away from the
possibility that saving Keiko was in fact within his grasp
if only he tried hard enough. Julian didn't feel as if he
could say anything. After all, they had changed the course
of time, and it was their responsibility to at least try to
change it back if it were possible to do so. But it was
becoming more apparent to Julian every day that it wasn't
possible, and that Miles's obsession was becoming unhealthy
for all of them.

Julian sighed and shut his eyes as he breathed in the clean
scent of Molly's hair. He'd let Miles follow this last wild
goose chase, he'd even pitch in and help if it would speed
things along, but he'd be damned if he'd allow him to hurt
his girls.

His girls.

Julian hugged Molly a little tighter. If Miles decided he
didn't want to be a part of her life, there was nothing he
could do about it. But Julian would stay right where he was
- with his girls.

And if Miles couldn't understand it, that was his problem.

---

"You're certain this is going to work?" Julian asked.

Miles sighed and looked up from the engineering console. "If
I were so damned sure I wouldn't need to run a simulation,
now would I?"

"All right, all right." They had been snapping at each other
all evening.

"The thing is," Miles continued, "nobody's quite sure
whether Kirk was able to aim the slingshot accurately on his
own or whether he had 'help' of some kind. The only time he
used it to return to a specific year they ended up meeting
some kind of omnipotent alien."

"A Q?"

"Might've been. The first time they went back it was a
mistake, and the third time they didn't aim for a given year
- they were just trying to reach a time before some whale
species became extinct. But the second time..." He frowned
at the readout. "Take a look at these numbers. You have
brains, might as well use them."

He moved behind Miles and studied the columns of
spatio-temporal coordinates over his shoulder. "What am I
looking for?"

"The slingshot effect should cause a discontinuity in
subspace," he replied. "What we're looking for is a
topological break large enough to..."

As he listened to Miles's explanation, he followed the
column of figures down, expecting this to be yet another
dead end. He suddenly noticed a gap. "Here," he said,
jabbing a finger at the screen. "The difference in the fifth
correlate-

But Miles was nodding. "Wouldn't have caught that. Let's see
how it works. Computer, run subroutine A-6 using the
coordinates on line 452, column 49."

[[Calculating.]]

"I wish we could get Dax in on this," Julian said, easing
himself into a chair while the computer completed its task.
"It's right up her alley. By the way, I talked to Iliana
this morning; she'll have a talk with Tekeny."

"Did you ever figure out why the lad thought I was goin'
away?" Miles asked.

He sighed. Tekeny had probably noticed how cool he was to
Molly, but that wasn't what Miles wanted to hear. "From what
I can figure out," he said instead, "Garak and Iliana had
been sleeping in different rooms for a few weeks before he
took her father's ship off to the Gamma Quadrant," he
replied. "When Tekeny and Mila were over for that playdate
and I told him not to go into the spare room because you
were sleeping there..."

"...he put two and two together and got five." He checked
the progress of the simulation. "'s that common with
Cardassians?" he said, looking up. "Sleeping apart?"

"No, but apparently Garak snored as badly in this timeline
as he did in ours, and with Iliana being pregnant..."

Miles gave him a look. "How would you know - were you and
Garak...?"

"For a couple of years, on and off," he replied. "Not at the
very end."

He chuckled. "So Dax was right."

"She usually is."

"Y'know," Miles said, "it's funny. I was goin' through my
old personal logs a few days back, and she was apparently
the one who talked me into agreein' to go out with you."

"*I* asked *you* out?" he asked, surprised by his own
audacity.

"That you did. Apparently you latched onto me in this
timeline instead of her."

Julian grinned. "Could have been worse. 'Oh Commander
Sisko,'" he cried in a quavering falsetto, "'you're so big
and strong!'"

"Shut up!" Miles laughed. "Now that I can't see-"

The computer interrupted them. [[Calculations complete.]]

Miles bent over the console and read the results. "Hell."

"Problem?"

"Not unless you don't mind a one-way trip to the Stone Age.
The calculations would put us back about 7,000 years, give
or take a century, and the trip would probably destroy the
ship as well." He blew out an angry breath. "Damn."

The child in Julian's belly suddenly began to dance as if
she were rejoicing in the fact that Miles had failed. Julian
put his hand over her and mentally urged her to keep still.
Miles had that obsessed look in his eye, the one Julian was
becoming all too familiar with, and he didn't want to upset
him any further.

The comm system suddenly came to life. [[Sisko to Dr.
O'Brien. Report to my office immediately.]]

Julian tapped his comm badge. "Aye, sir."

[[And doctor, if the Chief is there...]]

Miles spoke up. "We're on our way, Captain."

As Miles saved his work, Julian pushed himself up out of the
chair and stretched. "I'm still not comfortable with that
name," he grumbled as they headed out towards the Promenade.

"Better get used to it; you'll be hearin' it until we get
back."

He snorted, wondering privately if he had chosen to take
Miles's name after that searing subspace message his father
had sent him in this timeline or if Miles had talked him
into it. From what he had seen, the old Miles had been very
much the 'man' of the house. How the original Julian had got
himself into this mess with changing his name and bearing
children...but then again, perhaps those decisions were
simply the compromises he had chosen to make to be with the
man. He supposed he could understand that.

Talking about children... "How long do we have Jake
tonight?" he asked Miles.

"Until 2200. It's 2120 now; we'll give him a comm if Sisko
keeps us late." He suddenly chuckled. "I'm going to have to
start rebuildin' the ceilings if that boy gets any taller.
He's going to pass two metres, I'll bet you."

"I wouldn't take that bet." He looked around to make sure
they were alone, then leaned in. "I asked you out?" he asked
quietly.

"'bout three months after we arrived here," Miles replied as
they reached the turbolift area. "Or at least I accepted
about three months later. You haven't checked your logs?"

"Well, I," he stammered with an embarrassed shrug, "I looked
at a few of them, but - God, Miles, I was such a puppy..."

He snickered as they entered the lift. "That you were.
'Course, I wasn't much better. You should see the logs I
recorded after we started seein' each other..." His face
suddenly turned beet red.

"What?"

He shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. "Seems we were a
bit affectionate - well, you know..."

Julian burst out laughing. "What, you raved about my sexual
prowess in your personal logs?"

"Shut up, ye daft...always yankin' my chain..." He kept his
eyes on the door.

"Oh, is that what you called it?"

Miles shot him a look that would have struck a lesser man
dead. "You should be glad you've that belly to hide behind,
ye..."

He shook his head. After all the trials and tribulations of
the past seven months, he was still glad he had Miles with
him to weather it all. "Forgive me for saying this," he
said, "but thank God you're still my friend."

"...annoyin' little nit-brain is what you are..." O'Brien
muttered as they left the turbolift for Sisko's office.
Julian saw the beta-shift Ops officer hide a smile behind
her coffee cup.

"Gentlemen," the captain said as they entered his office,
"I'd like you to meet Dr. Lewis Zimmerman." He raised an
eyebrow at Miles's barely-concealed low burn.

A tall, balding man wearing a Starfleet uniform and a
smarmy, self-important expression rose to meet them. "Dr.
O'Brien, I presume?"

Julian took his hand. "Um, how do you do. What can I do for
you," and he looked on the man's collar in vain for
insignia, "sir?"

The pompous man all but bounced on his toes. "I'm here to
make you - immortal."

Miles and Julian both stared at him. "Immortal?" Miles
asked, suspicion in his eyes.

"Dr. Zimmerman is the Director of Holographic Imaging and
Programming at Jupiter Station," Sisko interjected as they
all took their seats. "He's designing a long-term medical
hologram and wants to use Dr. O'Brien as a template."

"Oh..." Julian was momentarily speechless. "I'm flattered,
but-"

"No buts, Doctor;" Zimmerman began, "Starfleet Medical
believes that you're the perfect model. Your patients, your
nurses, even your senior officers have nothing but praise
for your diagnostic skill and your bedside manner. It's a
simple process. All I have to do is scan your physical
characteristics into the holographic generator - modifying
certain features, of course..." He looked askance at
Julian's prominent abdomen.

Miles rolled his eyes.

"...and then we'll get on with the interviews."

"Interviews?" he repeated.

"The LMH," Zimmerman explained, "is designed to operate in
places such as distant outposts and bases where having an
actual physician on duty would be impractical. The
holo-physician would need to be able to interact with
patients in a natural manner, conversing with them, even
trading dirty jokes and swapping recipes. To do that, we
have to give it a personality, and what better personality
than yours?"

Julian frowned at him. "So you'll be interviewing..."

"Your patients, your colleagues, Chief O'Brien and your
daughter, and of course your parents. We need to know
everything we can about you, even from the formative years."

Julian's and Miles's eyes met briefly. This was dangerous,
Julian realized. Not only could this Zimmerman uncover his
enhancements, he could even tease out the fact that they had
changed the timeline. He had to think of something...

Just then Miles took his hand. "You're bringing his parents
here?" he said, allowing anger to cloud his voice.

"We're trying to convince them to travel to Deep Space
Nine," Zimmerman replied. "I'd already have them on their
way but every time I've attempted to contact Mr. and Mrs.
Bashir, your father-in-law has cut the comm signal." He
turned back to Julian. "If you could contact them yourself
and let them know that I am a legitimate-"

Julian assumed a look of terrified shock. "My parents? You
want my father-" He thought furiously: there was that comm
recording... "I - I can't," he said, turning to Miles, his
voice full of terror. "Not him...not after what he called
me..."

Zimmerman frowned. "Now, now, Doctor. If you would just comm
them then we'd be able to-"

"Like hell he will!" Miles bellowed in righteous
indignation, giving his hand a quick squeeze of
comprehension. "I am not letting that bastard talk to
Julian! Not in his condition!"

Julian suddenly clapped his hands to his face and broke out
in sobs, slumping into Miles's shoulder.

"But Dr. O'Brien, we need to interview them in your presence
so-" Zimmerman started, but Miles (who by this time had one
arm around Julian) interrupted him.

"Now you listen to me," he said, his voice hard. "That
son-of-a-bitch isn't getting within a light-year of him, do
you understand!?"

Julian peeked out between his fingers to see Captain Sisko
staring at the two of them, a look of utter panic in his
eyes. So much the better, he thought, as he began to wail
loudly.

"But that will make it impossible to-"

"And furthermore," Miles continued over Julian's sobs, "You
are NOT puttin' Julian through this - rigmarole of
interviews!" He drew Julian closer. "It's all right,
sweetheart..." he murmured into his ear, rocking him as
Julian tried desperately not to burst out into laughter.

"Doctor - Julian," the agitated Captain broke in, "are you
all right?"

He raised his head, letting a single teardrop fall from his
eyes as he turned to Sisko. "Captain," he said in a
tremulous voice, "it's just that with the hormone treatments
and everything...and then he mentioned my father." He shot a
look at Zimmerman. "Dad hasn't spoken a word to me since I
told him we were getting married. He called me a - a
filthy-" And he broke into heaving sobs again.

"It's okay, darlin', let it out," Miles murmured, running
his hand over Julian's back. "Captain," he said to Sisko,
"It's been a long day; Julian's tired. I'm going to take him
home, put 'im to bed - if that's all right with you."

Julian snuck a quick look at Zimmerman, who was still
apparently earnest about the matter. Oh well, he thought: in
for a penny, in for a pound. He pulled away from Miles and
smacked him in the arm, glaring at him with a look of cold
fury. "You son of a bitch, don't you *dare* patronize me!"
he cried. "I am not some *child* you can tuck in! The hell
with this - I'm going home!" And with that he jumped up from
his seat.

"WAIT!" Miles cried, grabbing his arm before he could rush
out the door. "You - you can't...the Captain hasn't..."

In the reflection of the door he saw Sisko giving Miles a
look of infinite sympathy. "You had better take him home,"
the Captain said. "Jennifer was the same way with Jake at
times."

"Aye, sir. Good night, sir."

Miles led him carefully out of Sisko's office and to the
turbolift, Julian whimpering all the way. As soon as the
lift dropped below ground level he let go of Julian. "Fuck
you!" he sputtered. "You fucking prat!"

Julian collapsed in laughter. "Oh God! Did you-"

"I nearly lost it with that - with that 'patronizing'-" and
Miles began to laugh. "You bastard!"

Julian was laughing so hard he was snorting like a pig. "Oh
God, stop...I'm going to piss myself! D-did you see Sisko's
face? I swear he was going to bolt! 'Pregnant man crying!
Run away!'"

"Did you hear-" Miles got out, fat tears rolling down his
face, "-when he said - he said you reminded him of his - his
wife!"

"Oh God!" Julian cried as he held his aching sides. "This is
the best laugh I've had in ages!"

"Tell me about it! I just hope to hell Sisko runs that
arsehole off the station." Miles wiped his face. "The last
thing we need to be goin' through right now are a bunch of
'interviews'."

Julian gave his friend a fond shake of his head. He was
starting to realize why the old Julian fell in love with
him. In fact...but he shooed that thought away and returned
to the topic. "You don't honestly think he'd let Zimmerman
pick me apart after *that* performance, do you?" he asked.
"If he does, I'll just get Girani to stick me on light
duty."

"I hope you're right. Listen," Miles said after a quick
check of his chrono, "you know what I'd like right now? A
game of darts and a pint of ale to go with it. You up for
Quark's? We can comm Jake, get him to stay another hour."

"We *do* have tomorrow morning off," he replied, "but it
might be better if we laid low and had the game in our
quarters. I'll bet you latinum that if we showed up at
Quark's we'd find Zimmerman there ogling the dabo girls."

"Ach, you're right," Miles sighed. "God, this is the first
time I've felt normal in months!"

He put his hands on his hips and frowned at Miles in mock
annoyance. "Figures. I get pregnant, Sisko calls me a woman,
and suddenly you feel normal!"

"Oh Lord, Julian," he cried, "if you make me start laughing
again I'll pass out - I swear to the Blessed Virgin I will!"

As the doors opened, Julian turned to his companion.
"Speaking of the Virgin Mother," he said, wagging a finger
at him, "since I'm carrying your immaculate conception, I
reserve the right to stand closer to the dart board this
time."

"Now isn't that gentlemanly!" Miles complained. "Just 'cause
you're knocked up doesn't mean you have to go claiming your
fat gut as an excuse to cheat!"

He gave Miles a mock-frown. "Unless you want me to cry
again..."

"Christ Almighty," he muttered with a roll of his eyes,
"I've created a monster."

---

"OUCH!"

"Rom," Julian said, "hold still." He aspirated the abscess,
then injected the Ferengi with a broad-spectrum antibiotic.
"How long has this been going on?"

"Well..." Rom shifted his gaze, not daring to meet his eyes.
"... a couple of years back there was, um, this female
trader...you know...I thought it went away on its own, but,
er..."

Only with great restraint did he stop himself from rolling
his eyes. "Why didn't you come to me back then?" he said
instead. "Treatment would have been much simpler.
Otogonnorhoea isn't something you can safely self-treat - it
can lead to everything from meningitis to pneumonia." He
readied another hypospray. "How's Leeta's hand?"

"She, uh, seems fine."

"Well, if she has any further redness or swelling, have her
come in for a follow-up. This," he said as he pressed the
second hypo into Rom's neck, "is for the dizziness and
nausea. I'm taking you off duty for the next 24 hours. Go
home and rest. And I don't want the two of you re-infecting
each other, so no sexual contact for at least seven days,
all right?"

"If you think it's necessary..."

"It is. And I'll see you back here in 24 hours for the next
treatment."

Rom nodded, scooting out of the Infirmary as quickly as his
feet could carry him.

Julian shook his head. Treating engineers for Ferengi ear
clap wasn't what he had envisioned when he decided to embark
on a career in frontier medicine. Of course, that wasn't the
only thing he hadn't envisioned.

The Infirmary was quiet, he mused, as he sanitized his hands
and disposed of the used equipment. He looked around, then
switched on the fetal monitor and surreptitiously scanned
himself.

As the familiar features crystallized on the monitor, he
reached towards the screen and took a moment to trace the
outline of the eyebrows - so much like Miles's - the nose,
the mouth, and the tiny hands with his finger. The fetus
suddenly shifted, moving slightly on the screen as a kick
made itself felt in his abdomen. Such a miracle, he thought,
as a fond smile spread across his face; that Miles and I
could create such a perfect-

A cough behind him almost made him drop the transducer
probe. He spun around to find Dax smirking at him.
"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Fine," he managed to say. "I was just checking up on
things. Are you free for lunch?" he asked as he powered down
the scanner.

"That's why I stopped by." She looked behind her towards the
Promenade. "The Replimat's pretty crowded, though..."

"Then how about my office? Two seats, no waiting?"

She grinned at him as he obsequiously ushered her into his
cramped office. "So Girani's still letting you do
paperwork?" she asked by the replicator. "What do you want?"

He eased himself into his office chair. "Same as you're
having is fine, and yes, Mirat is generously allowing me to
sign reports and even treat the odd ear infection. How's Ops
this morning?"

"Dull," she said, putting two plates of steaming-hot gladst
down on his desk. "A ship docks, a ship undocks, and there
is *nobody* to talk to. I hope the Defiant gets back soon -
it's driving me up the wall being there all alone."

"Now don't exaggerate," he said, spearing a bite of the
spicy vegetable. "You're not all alone up there."

"It feels like it. Since the last round of transfers, I feel
like I don't know anyone."

They ate in companionable silence. Suddenly Dax looked back
at the main room, then turned her gaze back to Julian. "How
often do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Scan yourself."

"Too often," he said with a nervous chuckle as he pushed a
morsel of food around with his fork. "You won't tell Miles?"

"Why not?" she asked with a frown. "Why would he mind?"

"Well...he thinks I'm fixating. He doesn't seem to be all
that interested, to be honest, and I think he's worried I'm
made too strong a connection." That at least was true, he
thought.

Dax put down her fork. "Fathers - at least the ones who
don't carry their children - usually aren't all that
emotionally invested in them until they're born," she said.
"I never was. And you're right, sometimes fathers do become
worried about their partners being overly connected to the
developing child." She gave him an understanding look. "But
it's more than that, isn't it?"

Damn that woman, he thought, as he stared down into his
gladst: she's worse than the Obsidian Order.

"I mean," she continued, "you were borderline certifiable
the first time, but now you're almost - I hate to say it,
but you're almost too calm, and Miles is never around. Is
everything all right between the two of you?"

"It's not that," he replied, his mind working overtime.
"It's that project Starfleet Engineering assigned him. He's
become so wrapped up in it I hardly see him from day to day.
And if anything I've been concentrating on not becoming
over-emotional - although I've had my moments." He grinned
sheepishly.

"Ben told me about that. He said he was worried he'd have to
call Girani and have you sedated."

He sighed. He hated to lie to her, but... "I felt like such
an idiot after I calmed down," he finally said. "I mean,
there was a medical explanation - I'd had to increase my HPL
and erythropoietin dosages, which is why I booked off the
next day - but honestly, Jadzia, having to face my father
again - I don't think I could do it."

She reached out and gave his forearm a quick squeeze.
"Julian, forget about your father, and forget about that
Zimmerman too. Ben understood completely - well, between you
and me, I think you scared him half to death-"

He laughed. "Miles said he had this look on his face halfway
between panic and terror."

"-but," she continued, "are you sure Miles is handling this
as well as you think? After all, he's the one who wanted the
'big Irish family'. Don't you think it's strange that he's
withdrawing in this way?"

"I suppose you might be right." He was a little surprised by
her revelation. "Sometimes he seems as fixated on this
project of his as he thinks I am about-" and he gestured
downwards, "this."

"It's not a 'this'," she told him. "It's a baby. Say the
word."

He sucked in his lips. "Baby."

"That's right." She picked up their empty plates and carried
them to the recycler. "Pretty soon the two of you are going
to be up to your elbows again in dirty diapers, slimy
pacifiers, stained onesies-"

"You make it sound so romantic."

"-the smell of a tiny baby, little pink booties, little pink
bonnets, little pink dresses..." She sighed. "That is,
unless you're having another redhead."

"Jadzia, as I have told you, and repeatedly if I remember
correctly, we've decided not to examine her MC1R status."
The teasing he had to put up with in this timeline...

"I'm just saying that if you'd like to get presents that
don't clash with the baby's hair..."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Aren't you due back in Ops?"

"Actually, now that you mention it, I am," she said as she
glanced at the wall chrono. "But remember what I said. Talk
to him. I'd hate to see anything happen to the two of you,
especially considering the children."

"I'll do that." He saw her to the door. "And thanks."

"What are friends for?" she said, giving him an unexpected
hug before leaving.

He sighed as he watched her walk down the corridor towards
the turbolift to Ops. If she had ever hugged him like that
in the old timeline...

Stop fooling yourself, old man, he thought, you'd have found
a way to screw it up.

He returned to his duties.

---

He was floating on a peaceful cloud, still, comfortable...

And an arm suddenly shot out and grasped him around the
chest.

Julian slowly awoke to the realization that something
pleasantly hard was nudging his backside. Miles began to
grind his hips into him, his hands running over his
distended stomach. He suddenly moaned into Julian's ear, his
lips brushing his throat as his hand cradled Julian's belly.
"Baby, you are-" he murmured...

And suddenly the hand and the mouth were gone, and Miles was
hurdling himself out of bed and onto the floor.

"Lights ten percent." Julian pushed himself up into a
sitting position and peered over the edge of the bed. "Are
you all right?"

His friend was sitting on the floor, a sheet tangled around
his legs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He
looked up guiltily at Julian. "I, um, I-"

"It's all right," he said, trying to soothe him. "You were
half-awake and forgot who you were sleeping with. Come back
to bed."

Miles suddenly looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Julian sighed. "What's the problem?"

"Well," he started, his face a deep red, "I...it's not that
I'm not - Julian, you're you."

"Yes, and I have been for quite a while," he said dryly,
wondering what had got into the man's mind now.

Miles pulled himself up. "It's not that," he said, sitting
on the bed. "It's that you're not her. Okay, part of it is
that you're you. You're my friend. It's just..." He
shrugged.

"It's 0235," Julian said with a sigh, realizing that they'd
be all night at this if Miles didn't get to the point. "Can
we discuss this in the morning?"

But Miles kept talking, picking at the bedspread while he
spoke. "It's just that you're...goddammit, man, you're my
best friend, and you're-" and he gestured towards his
stomach. "It's..."

He gave Miles what he hoped was a reassuring smile. The last
thing he wanted to do was make his friend uncomfortable,
especially considering that, unlike his own feelings,
Miles's reaction was likely nothing but a pheromonal reflex.
But how to explain that to him... "It's possible," he said,
"that the hormones I'm taking are affecting the way I smell.
That might be what you're reacting to."

Miles looked down at his hands again, apparently
unconvinced. "You think?" he asked, his voice low.

"I'm sure that's all it is." Julian gave his forearm a pat.
"Listen, what do you want to do about it?"

"Maybe one of us should move into the spare room again."

"The last time we tried that," he said, "Molly had
nightmares for two weeks running. I still don't want you
uncomfortable in your own home. Do you want me to take a
night shift?"

Miles's face closed down into the familiar blank expression
Julian had seen a thousand times since they arrived in this
timeline. "It's my problem, I'll deal with it. And after my
last talk with Girani..." He shook his head. "That woman is
the most annoying, irritating - do they teach how to get
under engineers' skins in medical school?"

"She's a dedicated professional who cares about her patients
enough to include the entire family in the prenatal care
package."

Miles harrumphed.

"What?"

"She, um," and Miles's face darkened, "she said she wanted
me to pay more attention to you. Said I should 'do special
things for you' like takin' you out for dinner and the
like."

"She wants you to woo me, does she?" he asked, trying to
keep down the urge to laugh.

"God." Miles shook his head. "But talkin' about special
things..."

Julian suppressed a groan. Here we go again, he thought, at
zero two bloody forty in the morning.

"...I've been lookin' at those figures I came up with - you
know, during that simulation we ran a few days back?"

"Yes, yes, I remember," he said. Even being molested in his
sleep was better than this.

"Well," Miles continued, "I was thinkin' that with a larger
ship - somethin' like the Defiant - it'd be easier to
balance the mass equation. What do you think?"

"I'm too tired to think," he said, glaring at Miles, his
patience as exhausted as he was. "I'm almost too tired to
breathe. Give me the details in the morning and let me
sleep!"

"Oh." He gave Julian a contrite look. "Sorry. I keep
forgettin'."

"I've noticed." He looked at the ceiling. "Computer, lights
off." He turned over and closed his eyes.

But of course sleep would not come. One thing kept bothering
him - the look in Miles's eyes after he had catapulted
himself off the bed. Pure, unadulterated need,
desire...maybe even affection?

No, Julian told himself severely: that's what you *want*
Miles to feel, not what he feels. *You* might be falling in
love with your best friend, but that doesn't mean he feels a
thing for you - outside of pheromonal attraction, that is.
Which, he supposed, wasn't a bad start.

Suddenly the baby began a tattoo on his belly. He looked
down; the sheet was actually vibrating. Is that what you
want too, little girl? he thought to her. Two parents who
love each other instead of just going through the motions?

He closed his eyes.

All too soon he awoke, Miles still snoring softly beside
him. He checked the chrono and went to wake up Molly.

She wasn't in her room.

Julian tore through the apartment searching for her. She
wasn't in the fresher room, the storage area, the spare
room, or even in any of the closets. She hadn't fallen into
the recycler or the toy box..."Miles!" he shouted as he ran
into the room and shook him awake. "Molly's gone missing! I
can't find her!" He reached for his comm badge but Miles's
hand gripped his arm.

"Molly?" he said with a strange look on his face. "Who's
that?"

"Miles! Let go! I have to call security-" and he suddenly
turned, his mouth hanging open in shock. "What do you mean
'Who's that?' Our daughter. Dammit, man, she's gone!" He
tried to pull away from his grip but he couldn't shake that
cold hand.

"Oh, that Molly," Miles said, rolling his eyes. "Didn't I
tell you? I got rid of that problem for you. Both of 'em,
actually."

Julian followed his gaze down. His abdomen was completely
flat.

And he woke up in a cold sweat, shuddering in terror. He
looked to his left; Miles was still snoring away. The chrono
said 0320.

He lay his head back on the pillow and tried to calm his
pounding heart. He had read about the vivid dreams pregnant
women had but had never thought he'd experience one. It had
been so real...

Time for a cup of hot milk, he told himself, as he levered
himself out of bed and waddled into the main room.

---

Girani held the scanner over his abdomen. "42 centimetres
from head to toe. She's not going to be a big baby, but
she's within human norms for the 35th week. Everything else
seems fine...although given the scanner logs you probably
already know that."

He blushed. "I've been slightly concerned..." he began, but
stopped when she looked up at him over her old-fashioned
half-glasses.

"Julian," she started, "during the last gestation you were
so terrified that the child would be born with a defect that
you installed a scanner in your bedroom. I distinctly
remember Chief O'Brien saying he was afraid the child would
be born with transducer probes for hands. I hardly think a
scan every other day is excessive, especially considering
the breadth of your pelvis, or lack thereof." She shook her
head. "If I had a young woman with your hips contemplating
pregnancy, I'd suggest pelvic restructuring. As it is, the
strengthening bars are preventing microfractures, but you
still need to keep off your feet as much as possible."

"Do you think it would be safer for her if I went on bed
rest?" He didn't relish the idea, but if it was better for
the child he'd do it in an instant.

"I don't think that's entirely necessary," Girani replied.
"The fetus isn't stressed - in fact, her hormone levels,
heartrate, and movements are almost textbook. You're the one
who's at risk, and I'm not certain that putting you on bed
rest is the best choice. How about cutting down your
workload to half days?"

"I suppose I could live with that." He suddenly grinned. "Do
you think the Captain will accept your decision this time?"
Dax had told him that Girani's voice had almost peeled the
paint off Sisko's office walls when she found out he had
overruled her and ordered him on that mission. In the end he
had remained home, but Sisko was still fuming.

"I doubt he'll make the same mistake twice," she said dryly,
"but in case he does, I'll remind you that I do have an in
with the station CMO. But there's something else I want to
talk to you about," she said, leaning back against a
cupboard. "I'm concerned about your husband."

"About..." It took him a second to realize she was talking
about Miles. Of course he's your husband, you twit, he
reminded himself severely. "Why?"

She sighed. "I'm concerned he's clinically depressed. You
told me he was working on this project for Starfleet
Engineering. Is it going well?"

"I don't know," Julian said, keeping to the script he and
Miles had worked out. "It's a classified matter. But you're
right; he seems, I don't know, distracted all the time,
hardly speaks to me some days...I just keep wondering..." He
didn't add that in reality Miles's theory wasn't working out
- thank God, he thought, as he rested a hand on his abdomen.

"Julian," she continued, "this is a personal question, I
know, but: when was the last time the two of you had sex?"

Knowing why she was asking didn't make the question any
easier to answer. "Well, it's um...you know that the
hormones have done a number on my sex drive. It's not just
that I can't reach it; sometimes I think it's gone missing."

"I know that," she replied patiently, "but has *he*
expressed any sexual interest recently?"

And how was he supposed to respond to that? "He - he is
affectionate," he stuttered. "At night I often wake up with
him cuddled up to me." He tried desperately not to blush.
"And there have been a few times recently when he's shown a
slight interest..."

"But when was the last time the two of you had sex?"

"It's been a while," he replied evasively. "Perhaps longer
than average." That was true, he reflected, if 'never' was
in that category.

"Well," she said, removing her glasses, "I know that certain
positions and perhaps even certain acts might be impossible
right now given your bulk and the pressure on your abdominal
organs-"

Trust Girani to get to the point, he thought.

"-but if he is depressed, and I think he is, showing him
that you still love him could be a factor in his recovery.
You do love him still, don't you?"

He met her eyes. "Of course I do!" The words came naturally,
and Julian wasn't terribly surprised that he had meant them.

"Then help him."

"All right," he replied as he prayed for the floor to open
up and swallow him whole. "Um...I'll talk with him and..."

"Talking is a start but it isn't the complete answer," she
interrupted. "Now if he can't or isn't willing to have
sexual contact, that's a sign he needs to see me or
Telnorri, since, as you are well aware, impotence or
disinterest are cardinal signs of major depression. But it
may be that the lack of sexual contact is actually a partial
cause of the depression and not a symptom." She held up a
hand. "I'm not blaming your lack of interest. After all,
you've already gone through one pregnancy, and this problem
didn't occur last time. I'm saying that the two of you have
issues you should confront, and one of them may be
depression. Sex won't cure anything, but it can help in the
context of a loving and caring relationship. You simply need
to work at connecting with him again, and sex is part of
that."

"I, um...okay...all right..."

She patted his hand. "Don't worry, but let me know if you
think his depression appears to be major. Now go home;
effective immediately, you have afternoons off." She shooed
him out of the Infirmary.

He made his way to the nearest turbolift as if in a fog.
Once inside the lift, he slumped against the back wall.

How was he going to fix this? If Dax and even Girani had
noticed Miles's relative indifference to him, and if anyone
put the pieces together about just when that indifference
began...well, the penalty for breaking the Temporal Prime
Directive had never been set out in statute, if Julian
remembered correctly, but he supposed a conviction would
lead to a long sentence. And if they found out about his
enhancements they could take his girls away. That was
completely unacceptable.

He would have to speak with Miles.

---

"Don't wanna!"

Julian sighed, wondering for the thousandth time if the
stubbornness came from the red hair or the O'Brien name.
"Honey," he said, "if you won't wear the training pants,
then you have to wear a diaper."

She crossed her arms and looked up at him, and for a second
he saw himself in that annoyed glare. "Wanna be big girl!"

"And you are a big girl," he tried to reassure her. "Big
girls wear training pants, not diapers."

She crossed her arms over her undershirt. "No!"

Telling himself that getting into a shouting match with a
two-year-old was not acceptable behaviour for a man his age,
he knelt down in front of her. "Honey, Meru is almost a year
older than you," he said. "She wore training pants when she
was your age."

He tried to thread her feet through the leg holes, only to
have her kick the pants away.

"Molly..." He tried another tack. "Bunny, if you don't put
on the training pants, you won't be able to play with Meru
and Tekeny today. Don't you want to see them?" He hated to
bribe her, but he had to be on shift in fifteen minutes.

She thought for a moment, never letting the Glare of Death
leave her face, then she huffed (just like Miles, he
thought) and silently held out her legs.

"Good girl," he reassured her. "Now stand up...thank you...
and what do you want to wear today? The green dress?"

"Purple," she said with a pout, still not resigned to the
training pants.

"All right." He crossed to her closet and removed the dress
in question from the hanger before pulling it over her
shoulders and fastening the back. It was already snug; he'd
have to replicate a new one tonight. He then retrieved her
shoes from the corner and slipped them onto her stocking
feet.

"Now," he said as they left their quarters for the station
daycare, "you remember what I told you. When you feel like
you have to go, tell Mrs. Karlssen and she or Miss Hantha
will take you."

"'kay."

"And no beating up on Tekeny today, all right?" he continued
as they entered the turbolift. "Little boys don't like
little girls who beat them up."

She gave him a hard stare straight from the patented Miles
O'Brien collection, a stare that made him feel like he'd
been a fool to mention it. Julian privately wondered how
such a young girl could mimic her father with such pinpoint
accuracy.

As soon as they arrived at the daycare Molly ran off with a
little friend of hers, barely stopping to give Julian a
sloppy kiss goodbye. He watched her disappear down the
corridor, then turned only to almost bump into Hantha
Rekhim. "I'm sorry," he spluttered, grabbing onto her
shoulder to stop both of them from toppling over. "Are you
all right?"

The heavily pregnant daycare aide burst into laughter. "It's
like two balloons in a birdcage."

"We are a pair, aren't we?"

She smiled as she passed him, rushing to break up a fight
between two of the older children. "See you this afternoon!"
she called behind her.

He shook his head as he crossed the Promenade headed to the
Infirmary. Life had its drawbacks, but Molly - his Molly -
was something he had never thought possible.

---

He rushed into Quark's, ten minutes late, ordering a quick
lunch at the bar before taking his seat between Miles and
Iliana. "Sorry I'm late; it was a bit crazy this morning."

"Nothing serious?" Miles asked as he gave Julian's hand a
quick squeeze.

"Actually, yes, but it's under control." He smiled at the
two of them, making sure his eyes softened when he looked at
Miles. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"We were just talking about Molly spending the day at
Iliana's tomorrow so we can have some time to ourselves,"
Miles said as the waiter brought Julian's meal.

He nodded; having it known that they spent time together
alone would go a long way to damping down any gossip.
"You're sure that's all right?" he asked Iliana. "She's a
busy girl."

"It's no problem whatsoever." She gestured towards the
daycare with her fork. "In fact, I've noticed that she seems
to have become somewhat attached to Tekeny."

"Attached?" Julian asked. "In what way?"

"Just last week I caught her calling him a 'nasty little
boy'." A sly smile stole across her face. "I remember when I
was just a few months older than her, there was a
boy...Mirak Pelar, his name was. I was so ardent. I remember
telling him he was a flat-foreheaded numbspoon with the
brains of a diseased riding hound."

"You mean-" Julian sputtered. Wonderful, he thought: my
daughter has a crush on Garak's son. It was almost
incestuous.

Miles laughed. "D'he fight back?"

"No, which is why I eventually lost interest in him. Tekeny,
on the other hand, is a strong young man, but not a violent
one. If anything, he reminds me more of Elim than he does
any member of my own family. I remember the first time I saw
Elim..." She sighed. "Director Tain had sent me to work in
the new Federation Ambassador's mansion. There I was,
pretending to be a cook - can you imagine, a woman cooking?
- and in the door comes the new gardener trailing mud all
over the place. I told him off and made him wash the floor.
Little did I know at the time that he was Tain's feared
lieutenant."

"Love at first sight, was it?" Julian asked.

"The mission was futile from an operational standpoint," she
continued. "Ambassador Ishikawa knew from the very first day
that we were operatives and, quite sensibly I might add,
took appropriate precautions. But you're right - it was love
at first sight, for both of us. I remember the first time he
placed his hands on my shoulders..."

She smiled again, a sad smile that tore at Julian's heart.
After all, he had felt much the same way in another
lifetime. "Do you ever wish he hadn't gone to the Gamma
Quadrant?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Better his death than Cardassia's or
even Bajor's. What is the life of even the best man compared
to that of three billion or more? He did his duty to the
State, and I honour his memory by accepting his death."

Julian could understand the sentiment. His Garak would also
have died to save Cardassia. Well, they were the same Garak,
he supposed, so that wasn't terribly surprising.

As Iliana and Miles changed the topic to musical matters,
Julian took a moment to wonder if he and Garak had even been
acquaintances in this timeline. There was nothing in his
personal logs about him, not even a mention of his shop. He
thought back on his friend: friend, he snorted to himself.
He had been so besotted by the man that he could barely
think at times. Ironic that the very reason that caused him
to finally break up with Garak - the attempted destruction
of the Founders' homeworld - was in this timeline probably
the only reason Bajor still existed.

It wasn't the first time he'd been wrong about Garak, but
perhaps it was the most poignant.

"Are you going to finish that?"

He looked up, distracted. "I'm sorry?"

Miles pointed at his barely-touched lunch. "I don't need
Girani lecturin' me again, and especially about you not
gainin' weight. Now eat up."

"Yes, dear," he deadpanned, spearing a chunk of deep-fried
katterpod puree and dipping it in the sauce.

Iliana frowned at his plate. "I cannot understand how you
can eat that..." and her voice dripped with disgust,
"...ranch dressing. It smells like week-old zabu meat."

"Can't say that I disagree," Miles said, saving him the
necessity of replying. "Last week he was smearing some kind
of jam..." He turned to Julian. "What was it?"

"Lingonberry preserves," he replied. "They're quite good on
latkes."

Miles gave Iliana a knowing look. "See what I have to put up
with? Jam on potato pancakes, mustard on the salad...he put
sugar on his popcorn night before last."

"I assume that is a bad thing?"

"It's delicious," Julian interrupted after swallowing
another mouthful, "but it wasn't sugar. It was cinnamon
sugar."

Miles rolled his eyes.

"At any rate," Iliana said, "I should return to my
customers. It's nearly 1400." She took another look at
Julian's plate, then shook her head. "Good day, gentlemen."

They watched her as she left the Replimat heading for
Garak's - Iliana's, Julian corrected himself - Couturiers.

"Do you think it worked?" Miles said in a low voice.

He shrugged. "I hope so. But we need to be seen together
more often than just at lunch. How about darts tonight at
Quark's?"

"I had hoped to get some time in on the new sim..." Miles
looked around. "But you're right; we aren't going to calm
down the bloody gossip with just a lunch here and there.
Walk you back to our quarters?"

He nodded; Miles took their trays to the recycler, then
followed Julian into the corridor. "Hold my hand," Julian
whispered in his ear.

Miles grunted under his breath, then grudgingly took
Julian's hand in his. "This is inane," he whispered.

"But necessary." And it felt perfectly natural, Julian
thought.

"I know," Miles replied, a resigned look on his face, "I
know."

---

"Elizabeth's a nice name."

"Too dull," Julian muttered as he propped his feet up, "and
too old-fashioned. How about Aisha?"

"What kind of name is that?" Miles snorted. "Sounds like a
sneeze."

Julian frowned at him. "Have some respect. Aisha was the
Prophet's favourite wife."

"Sorry." He thought for a moment. "I've always liked
Maeve..."

"Sounds like something you wash a floor with. I have a
cousin named Jalila."

"Sounds like a cake filling," Miles grunted.

"Does not." He reached around and scratched a spot on his
back.

"How about Siobhan? It's Irish for Julia."

"Too trendy," Julian said. "How about Fatima? It means
abstinence."

"Fatima? That'll go over well."

"Stop being so judgmental," he growled. "Why is every name
from *my* culture unacceptable?"

Miles rolled his eyes. "To tell you the truth I don't even
know why we're bothering. It's not like she's going to be
around for long enough to-"

"She needs a name," Julian said, cutting him off. How dare
he say that? "Maybe we could name her after-" and he stopped
and grimaced as a well-placed kick took out his left kidney,
"-a rugby player. Or maybe a torturer. Enabran's nice."

"Shut up, Julian."

He grunted. It was all well and fine for Miles to hide
behind his denial, but his girl deserved a good, solid name.
Siobhan, he snorted to himself. She'd spend her entire life
spelling it.

He had just opened his mouth to make another suggestion when
the door chimed. "Enter," he called.

Kira walked in. "Chief," she said, "I was just in the
neighbourhood and - okay, what's going on?" She crossed her
arms and frowned at the two of them. "I haven't seen two
scowls that fierce since Meru stole Worf's prune juice."

"We're trying to pick a name for the girl." He glared at
Miles. "Apparently, names from *my* culture sound like
sneezes."

"Fatima..." Miles grumbled. "And mine sound like what?"

"Like ninety-eight-year old women off knitting somewhere."

Miles harrumphed.

"Anyway," Kira said, "I just dropped by to-"

"Old women..." Miles interrupted, glaring at Julian. "Old
women! I'll have you know that Maeve is one of the most
popular-"

A quick gasp from Kira made both of them turn their heads
towards her. "Did you say mave?" she asked, her eyes full of
suppressed laughter. "You can't call her that!"

Julian frowned at her. "Why-" and then he remembered
something one of his patients had once mentioned to him.
"That's right," he said with a grin. "I knew there was a
reason I didn't like it."

"What?" Miles asked.

Kira smirked. "It's North Continent slang for diarrhea,
that's why."

"Ye gods." Miles rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I have a
niece named Maeve."

"Seems like half the names we think of are either obscene,
blasphemous, vulgar, or crude in one language or another."
Julian sighed. He hadn't realized how difficult it would be.

"What about a Bajoran name?" Kira asked. "Something like
Filon. That was Antos's mother's name."

"Actually, that's not bad." Julian thought for a moment.
"Sounds rather masculine in Standard, though. Maybe -
Filona? Finona?"

"How about Fiona?" Miles suggested. "Y'know, I like that. My
great-uncle Finbarr's wife was named Fiona."

He nodded. "I like it too. It's a good solid name, easy to
spell. All right then; Fiona it is. Unless it means
something obscene in Bajoran, that is," Julian said, turning
to Kira.

She stared at them, her jaw dropping. "You can't choose a
name like that!" she cried. "Where's the deliberation? Where
are the long-held family traditions?"

"Long-held family traditions...that's our problem right
there," Miles grumbled.

"We've been 'discussing' those traditions for four hours
straight," Julian added. "It was getting to the point that
Miles suggested we call her Millian or Jiles."

"Better than your suggestion of Desdemona."

"Desdemona is a lovely name-"

"Guys," Kira broke in, "okay, okay. Fiona it is."

Julian heaved himself out of the chair. "Thank you for the
suggestion," he said to Kira as he saw her to the door. He
suddenly stopped. "I'm sorry, did you come here for
something?"

She bit her lower lip. "Nothing important. I'll message you
later, Chief."

After she had gone, Julian turned back to Miles. "I wonder
what that was about."

"Probably had some report she wanted signed," Miles said,
his lips thin as he rose to his feet. "I'm going to go work
on that new simulation. Call me if anything happens."

A new simulation, he thought. Always a new simulation or new
calculations or something designed to take him away from his
girls. He tried to understand, but -

-and a sudden lancing pain drove him to his knees. "Miles!"
he shouted, "Get in here!"

"What is it?"

His voice was fading; Julian could barely keep his eyes
open. "There's..."

The last thing he heard was Miles calling for an emergency
beam-out.

---

He swam up into consciousness to find himself flat on his
back on a biobed. Everything was shades of grey, though, and
he could barely hear through a tinny buzz that seemed to be
coming from every direction. "What-"

Girani interrupted him, her words coming rapid-fire as she
used some kind of tool on his lower abdomen. "You coded.
Grade I placental abruption. We've performed a fetal
transport and removed the pseudosac. She's fine."

"But-"

She turned around. "2 ccs epizanthene, 1 microgram
pseudotocin!" she called to the nurse standing at the
replicator while another nurse - Jabara, he thought
absentmindedly - slapped a venous port on his left shoulder
and began what looked like a transfusion.

As his vision cleared and the buzzing receded, he looked up
at Girani again. "Is she-" he gasped out as the hypo touched
his neck.

"She's small but she's breathing unassisted, 99% sat on room
air," Girani said. "One-minute Apgar of four-"

Julian winced.

"-five-minute Apgar of nine. It's you I'm worried about."

Just then he heard Jabara's voice. "BP 90/50. Pulse 160 and
falling."

So it had been a near thing, he thought. "What have you
given me?" he asked Girani.

"Just a second." She checked his vitals on the biobed
scanners, ran a medical tricorder over him-

-and he almost jumped as a cry rang out from the other end
of the Infirmary.

"I have to see her," he pleaded. His baby was over there,
his girl needed him, he had to-

"Now hold on!" Jabara said, grabbing his shoulders as he
tried to lift himself off the biobed. "Dr. Perreira is with
her. She'll be fine."

"But she's my-"

Girani leaned over him. "Julian. Listen to me," she said,
holding his chin in her hand. "You lost over a litre of
blood, you're numb from the waist down, and you've just gone
through major surgery."

"But-"

"No buts." She stared him down. "We'll bring her to you as
soon as we stabilize you. Now stay."

"I'm not a dog," he grumbled, but he stayed put. He kept
reminding himself that she sounded healthy and strong as the
team worked on him, taking readings, administering drugs,
and setting up another infusion.

But he wanted to see her so badly it hurt. He needed to see
her, needed to hold her - good God, the emotions were
overwhelming him. Was this what it was like to...

And he almost snorted at himself. The word is birth, Julian,
he thought, albeit in Jadzia's voice. You gave birth. You,
Julian, 100% male he-man of Starfleet Medical, out to
conquer the wild frontier with nothing but a medical
tricorder and a phaser, just gave birth. For the second
time. And yes, this is what it's like.

He had been a doctor for five years and a medical student
before that, but only at that moment did he realize how
utterly and completely dehumanizing medicine could be for
the patient. He felt like a science experiment gone wrong,
or an art exhibit under scrutiny by a team of critics. There
he was, naked as the day he himself had been born, being
poked and prodded and shot full of things that he knew full
well were necessary, but still...

"BP 100/60, pulse 90 and stabilizing, HCT 39.2%." Jabara
called out as Akina wrapped his lower body in a heating
blanket and adjusted the biobed to raise his upper body to a
half-sitting position.

Girani heaved a sigh of relief. "Looks like you're here to
stay," she said to him. "We've given you two units of B-neg
synthoblood and - well, if you want the whole list of meds
you can download it later." She suddenly looked up and
grinned. "And here's the star of our show."

He followed her gaze; the locum, Dr. Perreira, had just
emerged from the intensive care room, a tiny bundle in her
arms. "Dr. O'Brien," she said, "I have someone here who
wants to meet you."

He took the bundle from Perreira and with a mixture of
anticipation and love (mixed with more than a touch of fear)
looked into the face of his new daughter for the first time.

She was perfect.

Rosy pink skin, big blue eyes, a little button nose, Miles's
square chin, his mother's mouth, and a shock of bright red
hair, just like her sister's. She squirmed in his arms, then
opened her eyes again and searched his face with her gaze.

"I've been waiting so long to say hello to you," he crooned
to her, and her eyes widened. "You know that voice, don't
you?"

A sudden surge of emotion caught him unawares; he took a
deep breath and forced himself not to cry. "She's so
beautiful," he murmured. "She's so perfect. How could I have
a child so absolutely perfect?"

He heard Girani tell the scrub nurse to get Miles, but he
couldn't keep his eyes off his daughter's lovely face. She
sputtered once, just a tiny burp or hiccup, and he reached
up with a finger to wipe the spittle off her face. She
suddenly turned her head towards the finger. The rooting
reflex, the doctor in him thought, as the father in him
beamed at her. "That's a good girl," he murmured.

"My God."

He looked up. Miles was standing beside his biobed, his eyes
wet with unshed tears as he looked down at the two of them.

At first he thought Miles was leaning down to take a closer
look at the girl. But then, to his shock, Miles gently
tipped his head back and kissed him.

It was gentle, sweet, perhaps more chaste than he had hoped
their first kiss would be, but it felt so very right. His
heart caught in his throat as Miles drew away from him,
brushing a thumb over his cheek. Did Miles really return his
feelings? Oh please, he pleaded silently to any deities or
Prophets listening, let this be what brings him to his
senses.

Just then the baby squirmed. "Fiona," Julian said, looking
back down at the little girl nestled in his arms, "this is
your Dada. I'm your Papa. Welcome." He kissed her on the
forehead.

His eyes met Miles's again, and for the briefest of moments
he saw his own feelings mirrored - wonder, joy, maybe even
love. Hope swelled in his chest that this could really-

But then the man shut down, a look of near-indifference in
his eyes as he regarded the two of them.

He blinked, momentarily confused by Miles's expression, then
realized what had happened.

Goddamn you, he thought savagely, can't you even rejoice in
your own daughter's birth?

For just a moment, a brief moment, it had seemed as if Miles
had finally let go of the past. In that second Julian's
heart had soared. But now - now the joy of his daughter's
birth had been tarnished by the realization that her other
father had just been putting on an act.

Perreira suddenly spoke up. "Chief, would you like to hold
her?"

"Well..." Miles held up his hands. "I've just been workin'
with chemicals, and to be honest I'm afraid I'd drop her.
She's so tiny, and..."

Julian cut in, fury slicing through his heart as he fought
to keep his voice level. "Could the three of us have some
time alone?" he asked. Working with chemicals...as if nobody
would see through that.

Girani nodded. "ICU, everyone?" she suggested.

Miles watched them go, then turned back to Julian. "I had
this great idea about the sim when I-"

He glared up at Miles in pure rage, his piercing stare so
icy and so intense that Miles actually backed up two steps.
"Get out," he growled.

"All right..." Miles stepped back again. "Why don't I, uh,
go get Molly from the sitter's?"

"Why don't you do that." His voice was flat, hard.

He turned back to his daughter as Miles left and began to
murmur soft words to her, words of love and encouragement.
If she was only going to have one parent, one real, loving,
caring parent, he would make sure he was the best damned
father a girl could have.

And Miles Edward O'Brien could go straight to hell.

---

He rubbed his forehead. "Computer, replay message from
beginning. Sound level low."

His father's face reappeared on the screen, his mouth
twisted into a sneer. "Your mother's just received a card
from Palis," he said. "You remember her. The ballerina? The
woman you were supposed to marry? The card said,
'Congratulations on your new granddaughter.' I couldn't
believe my eyes when your mother showed it to me, so I rang
Palis up. Oh yes, Jules, we know all about it now. How you
let that man use you as if you were a - a girl - and for the
second time! You thoughtless little bastard! Do you know how
angry and upset your mother is?"

At what, Julian silently asked the image on the screen: the
fact that you disowned me four years ago, or the fact that
you apparently deleted my subspace message unseen?

"And now," Richard was saying, "I have to look at myself in
the mirror every morning and tell myself that my son, who
could have married any woman he wanted and who could have
had the entire world at his feet, has chosen to shack up
with a *man* fifteen years his senior-"

"Thirteen," Julian corrected out loud.

"-on a space station out in the middle of nowhere doing
absolutely nothing worthwhile with his life, and now he's
pushing out babies like some goddamned bint! If you had any
idea how disappointed I am in you, boy - all the time I
spent with you trying to make you realize what it meant to
be a man, all that money, all that work, and you threw it
away! I should travel out there and straighten you out,
that's what I should-"

Fiona suddenly began to cry.

"Computer, pause." He sighed, pushing aside his anger, and
went into her bedroom. "What's wrong, doodlebug?" he asked
as he quickly checked her sodden diaper. "You're wet? Well,
we can't have that! Let's get you all nice and dry and then
we'll have a snack."

After changing her, he replicated a bottle of neonate human
milk and sat down with her in the big rocking chair beside
her crib, holding her gently as she began to nurse. How
could anyone disown their own child, he wondered as their
eyes met. How could someone turn away the child they had
borne, raised, and loved?

He snorted: and his father called himself a man. A man
doesn't walk away from his children, he told himself, or
push them away because of the choices they make. A man
doesn't call his own son a 'thoughtless little bastard',
especially not for living his life the way he thinks best.
And the way he had said 'girl', as if it were an insult...

I'll never do that to you, he promised Fiona as she smiled
up into his face: never. Although I might fall asleep on
you...

Before he knew it she had finished. "You must have been
hungry, hm?" he said. "I bet you'd like-"

The front door suddenly chimed.

"Let's go see who that is." He threw a towel over his
shoulder and carried her into the main room, propping her up
on his shoulder and patting her back gently to burp her.
"Who is it?" he called out, stifling a yawn.

Dax stuck her head through the doorway. "I know it's late,
but do you feel up to a visitor?"

"Jadzia! Of course - come in!" He gestured towards the sofa
and stepped back. "So how have you been? How's everything
going with-"

Suddenly Fiona spit up an enormous gob of milk all over the
towel.

"Better than they are with you," she quipped.

"I'll be back in a moment," he called over his shoulder as
he went off to clean up. "So when does the Defiant get
back?"

"Some time tonight," she said from the front room. "I got
tired of waiting around in Ops and wanted to see if you
were-"

"What, going stir crazy?" He returned to the living room
only to find her frowning at the terminal.

"What's he done this time?" she asked, her eyes on Richard's
angry face.

"Computer, end playback." The screen went dark. "An old
friend of mine sent a congratulations card to my mother," he
told Dax. "Father found out and decided I needed a
tongue-lashing." He took Fiona over to the sofa, cradling
her in his arms as she happily burbled up at him.

Jadzia took a seat opposite him. "A tongue-lashing? About
what?"

"The baby. Or, more specifically, Mother finding out about
the baby." Julian began to rock Fiona. "How does a man get
to the point where he'll sacrifice his and his wife's
relationship with their only grandchildren over something
that should make him happy?"

"I don't know," she said. "If I had an answer for that, I'd
be a counsellor."

He smiled as the thought crossed his mind that Jadzia would
make an excellent counsellor.

"Do you know why he resents you so much?" She gave the
terminal another quick glance. "Because that's what it
sounds like."

"I haven't followed the path he set out for me," he said
with a sigh. "I was supposed to take a position either on
Earth or on a Galaxy-class starship. Something high-profile,
I assume, so he could bask in the reflected glow. And I was
supposed to marry a woman. Preferably someone young,
accomplished and photogenic. Although maybe he wouldn't have
minded if I'd married the Federation President."

"The President's wife might not appreciate it," she said
with a laugh.

He snorted softly. "My dad is so - it's just that," and he
chose his words carefully, "ever since that first day I held
Molly in my arms, I've been aware of how important it was
for me to be a good father. But sometimes I feel so out of
my depth that I'm terrified I'll turn into him, or worse."

She smiled sympathetically. "Let you in on a secret?"

"What?"

"If you didn't feel out of your depth from time to time,"
she said, "that would be something to worry about. Every
normal, loving parent feels that way sometimes, and because
the two of you don't have a family support system on the
station you probably feel even more-"

The front door suddenly slid open. "You won't believe-"
Miles said as he rushed in, then stopped in the front
hallway as he caught sight of Jadzia. "Oh. I didn't realize
we had a guest. Hello, Commander."

"It's Jadzia after hours," she corrected him, "and how did
the mission go?"

He shrugged as he leaned against the back of the love seat.
"Routine. Had a hell of a time with one of the memory banks
in the computer core, though. The self-diagnostic somehow
got caught in an infinite loop and ended up taking out life
support on Decks 5 and 6 with it. Then the cooling system
for the power conduits on Deck 2 went haywire, and then-"

"Just fine, dear," Julian interrupted, a puckish smile on
his face. "And you?"

Jadzia snickered as she rose to her feet. "If the Defiant is
in," she said, "I'm sure Worf is looking for me, so I'll see
the three of you later." She turned back to Julian. "And
remember what I said."

"I will."

Once they were alone, Miles frowned at him. "What was all
that about?"

"My dad," he said, rocking Fiona slowly as she slumbered.
"He commed me. Just a short note to let me know how
disappointed he is in me and how badly I've failed to live
up to his expectations."

"I'm sorry." Miles looked down at the baby. "I had no idea
your da was like that. Then again, you never talked about
him."

"Can you blame me?"

"Guess not. You know, she really is a cute little thing."

Julian chuckled. "She looks like you."

"You think?" Miles asked, giving him a puzzled look.

"She has your eyes. They're even beginning to turn green
like yours." He looked down at her again. "I should put her
back to bed," he said. "She's sound asleep."

"Let me do that; you look all in." Miles took Fiona from him
and carried her off to her room.

Julian grinned as Miles gingerly carried the infant down the
hallway. The man had been walking on eggshells ever since
Julian had exploded at him after her birth. He'd finally
stopped going on and on about the simulations he was running
in the holosuites, and (thank the deities) he hadn't asked
Julian to "check his calculations" - in other words, spend
two or three hours going through tables of figures - for the
past two weeks either. It was a good thing, too, for if he
had tried to get Julian to do anything he'd likely have
ended up flat on his arse with a broken nose.

He propped up his sore feet on the coffee table. "Did I ever
tell you," he said to Miles after he returned to the main
room, "about the holo I found, back when we were in the
past? After we stopped the rape, but before..."

Miles gave him a puzzled look as he took a seat on the sofa
beside him. "No, you didn't."

He crossed his arms. "When Kira said we had a daughter," he
said, "I was stunned, and not just for the reasons you were.
They had told me I couldn't father a child, not safely, and
I kept wondering if she was normal or if..." His voice
trailed off.

"You mean because of what your parents did to you?"

He nodded. "I think I mentioned to you what the geneticists
had said, that if I fathered a child he'd likely have the
same disabilities I had, but..." He shrugged. "After I
finished going through the crew records I asked Odo about
her. He said she was normal - above average for her age,
actually - and he showed me a holo of the three of us. She
looked a lot like you, and a lot like Fiona."

"Why didn't you say something?" Miles said hollowly.

"I thought you'd be too upset. And to be honest, after we
ended up in this timeline...with what we learned, and
finding out about this Molly and the in vitro process - I
just forgot."

Miles looked down, unable for some reason to meet his eyes.
After a long pause he said, "Julian, be honest. You don't
want to go back, do you?"

Julian didn't want to cause him pain, but he knew that Miles
deserved the truth. And perhaps if he realized how close
Julian had become to the girls he'd understand why he had
been so angry the day Fiona had been born. "I realize that
we have to go back if it ever becomes possible," he finally
said. "We damaged the timeline and it's our duty to repair
it. I understand that, I accept that, but," and he sighed,
"you're right; I want to stay here. For the first time in my
life, I'm happy. I've always wanted a family - although I
didn't quite anticipate having one in this exact manner-"

Miles gave him a wry grin that didn't quite make it to his
eyes.

"-but it simply never occurred to me that it could be
possible. I think that's why I always gravitated to people
who either didn't want children, couldn't have them, or
didn't particularly want *me*. If I had known it was
safe..." He shook his head. "I know you don't see the girls
as real. I know-"

"It's not that," Miles interrupted.

Julian looked up, confused. "What do you mean?"

Miles's face was unreadable, his eyes slitted as he looked
down at his fidgeting hands. "You're right, it'd be a hell
of a lot easier if I didn't think they were real, but..."

"You're-" Julian sputtered.

"I keep tryin' to fight it," Miles cut in. "'Keep your eyes
on the task at hand', I tell myself, and I try so hard to
ignore all this, or push it to the back of my mind." He
gestured to the walls around them. "But I can't do it." His
voice was no more than a whisper. "I look at the two of 'em
and my heart melts."

Julian was shocked. He had assumed- "I didn't realize," he
got out. "I - I thought you were faking everything."

Miles glanced at him, just for a second, then his gaze
returned to his hands. "At the start I was. Hell, I thought
we'd be back in a few weeks. Couldn't figure out why you
were so damn worried about keepin' the baby since - like you
said - to me she wasn't real. But for the last couple of
months I've, um, had problems dealin' with it all. Part of
me's bein' tugged one way and the rest's gettin' pulled in
the opposite direction. I've been trying to cover it-"

"Which is why I got so angry at you at Fiona's birth."

"I know," he said with a deep sigh. "I - it was an idiotic
thing for me to say." He sighed. "Do you think we'll
remember this year if we go back and change things?"

The switch in topic surprised him. "No," he replied, "I
don't think we will. I actually researched the matter after
we ended up here. The neurotemporal scientists think that
either our current neural patterns will die and the old ones
will continue, or the patterns will just revert instantly to
the point of divergence and we'll be left with no memory of
anything that's happened. So we either won't remember or
we'll simply cease to exist, and the Miles and Julian who
lived before will continue to live, albeit as different
individuals."

"Hm." Miles appeared lost in thought, his mouth a thin line.

Julian suddenly stifled a yawn. "Listen," he said, hauling
himself to his feet, "It's too damned late for
neurophilosophy, and I'm about ready to drop. I'm going to
try to get some sleep before Fiona wakes up for her 0200
feeding. You coming?"

"Nah. I've got some things to go over first."

"See you tomorrow then." He dragged himself into the bedroom
and dropped onto the bed, hoping he could get a few minutes'
rest before...

A sudden motion of the bed startled him awake. He sat up and
checked the chrono. 0445. Oh, God, had he slept through-

A hand on his arm stopped him from leaping out of bed. "It's
okay," Miles said from beside him. "She's fine. I thought
you needed the rest, so I took care of a couple of
feedings."

He peered over at Miles in the dim starlight that lit their
bedroom. "Thanks. You're right, I was exhausted."

But Miles didn't let go of his arm. "Julian, I, um..."

"What is it?"

Miles rolled over on his side. "What you said, about us
forgetting everything? You're absolutely sure?"

"Not absolutely. As I said, we could just cease to exist,
but the experts think our neural patterns would most likely
return to the point of divergence and we wouldn't remember a
thing."

"Damn. I - I'd hoped..." He swallowed convulsively. "Julian
- there's something I have to tell you. The, um, feelings I
mentioned, you know, when we were talking earlier..."

"I remember."

"Julian..." Miles let go of his arm and brought his hand up
to lightly caress his cheek. "I don't just have them for the
girls."

"You-" Julian stared at him open-mouthed, twisting around to
face him. He couldn't mean... "But you..."

"I didn't mean to fall in love with you," he said. "I
suppose it just snuck up on me. And I know you probably
think I'm full of shit. I've been a right bastard to you for
the past ten months, and I can understand if-"

Julian suddenly reached over and hushed him, pressing a
finger to Miles's lips. Miles's eyes widened but he said
nothing.

"It's true that from time to time I've felt like spacing you
in your underwear," Julian said, "but Miles..." He leaned
towards him, letting his finger trail down Miles's chin
before tilting his head to place a tender kiss on his lips.
He didn't want to scare the man-

And he suddenly found himself flat on his back, a strong
hand cupping his head as Miles plundered his mouth. It was
more than just a simple passionate kiss; it was almost
desperate in its intensity, as if Miles were funnelling
every emotion he had struggled with in the last year into
this one kiss.

They finally broke apart. Julian groaned, trying to catch
his breath as he stared up into green eyes bright with
passion, even obsession - but for once those emotions were
directed towards him alone, and he welcomed them.

He opened his mouth to speak but Miles descended on him
again, kissing him with wild, insane need. Their tongues
danced as he moved to cover Julian, bringing their hard
lengths together. "I want you," he gasped between kisses,
"so badly. For so long. Please." The last word was almost a
prayer.

"Yes," was all Julian could get out. Yes, he wanted this.
Yes, he needed this. Yes, this was so right.

Miles suddenly pulled away; Julian felt himself being
undressed in the dark. Miles pulled down the trousers Julian
hadn't bothered to change out of, his hands brushing over
Julian's erection as he shoved his boxers down as well and
tossed both to the floor. He then pulled him up, tugging his
thin T-shirt over his head, and began to make love to him.

He moaned as Miles licked at his throat, teased his nipples,
kissed his flat belly, ran his tongue down the thin line of
hair that trailed down his abdomen. It had been so long
since he had been with someone - so long since he'd been
able to respond...

And he was almost undone by the first touch of those hot
lips against his throbbing cock.

"Miles, I can't-" he moaned, barely able to think...he was
so close...

"Just let yourself go, darlin'. It's been too long." And
Miles bent over his cock again, taking it in his hot, wet
mouth, teasing the opening with his tongue, sucking softly
as his lips moved down the shaft.

Julian couldn't hold back, crying out incoherently as he
came hard, spilling his seed into Miles's mouth as he thrust
up to meet him.

Afterwards he lay there, taking in great lungfuls of air,
his mind barely able to process what had just happened.
"Miles," he said weakly, "my God, I'm-"

But Miles shushed him as he slid up his body and kissed him,
and how sweet it was to taste himself on Miles's lips.

"Do you want me to-" he tried again, but Miles covered his
mouth with his own to silence him.

"I want to be inside of you," he whispered against his lips.
"Please, Julian. I have to feel you, please."

Julian shivered, a shiver of pure need that emerged unbidden
from somewhere deep inside of him. No, he thought: this was
not a time for gentle coupling. He rolled over, capturing
Miles beneath him as he bit his neck, marking him. "You want
me," he snarled as Miles's shoulders slammed into the
mattress, "then you take me."

Miles glared at him, then gave him a near-feral grin. "If
that's how you want it..." He rolled Julian over onto his
back again. "I've waited far too long for this," he growled
as he placed himself between Julian's thighs, blindly
groping for a tube of skin cream Julian had left on the
bedside table yesterday.

"Here," Julian gasped, reaching over and grabbing it for him
before Miles could tip over the bedside lamp.

He said nothing as he took the tube and squeezed gobs of
thick cream onto his rough fingers. Julian watched him
slather the cream on his cock, making sure he was
well-lubricated, before he reached for Julian's tight
opening.

A slick finger entered him; he hissed in pain as his tight
opening resisted the invader. It had been so long since-

Miles froze. "Are you..." he asked, worry in his eyes.
"Should I-"

But Julian shook his head. "More," he begged. "Please, I
need-" And he groaned again, this time in pleasure, as
another finger joined the first and began to open him up.
"So good..." he murmured under his breath, encouraging Miles
to continue. "...So good...don't stop...more..."

"You're so tight," Miles whispered as his fingers worked.
"Are you sure-"

"Goddammit, O'Brien," he growled, "would you just get on
with it and fuck me?!"

Miles needed no more encouragement. The fingers retreated
only to be replaced; as Miles slowly eased himself inside,
Julian forced himself to ignore the burn he felt as he
stretched to accommodate his lover's thick, rock-hard shaft.
Miles suddenly groaned, a low and heady sound that made
Julian's erection stir to life once again.

"So tight..." Miles moaned as he slid in the final inch and
his cock rubbed against Julian's prostate, "so damn tight,
so good, oh baby, oh Julian..."

"Don't stop," he panted. "Fuck me, Miles, oh God please fuck
me..."

Miles, his eyes locked onto Julian's, grabbed his hips
tightly and began to thrust. He drove himself into Julian,
pounding into him hard; Julian lifted his hips and met his
lover stroke for stroke. Soon he felt the pressure building;
he arched his back, moaning in ecstasy as orgasm swept
through him. Miles shuddered and cried out incoherently as
he joined him with one last powerful thrust.

Their shudders stilled; Miles rolled off him as the heat of
their bodies dissipated and their breathing returned to
normal.

After a moment he felt Miles rubbing his chest with his
discarded T-shirt, cleaning him off as he buried his face in
Julian's hair. "I didn't know," he whispered into Julian's
ear as he tossed the shirt over the side of the bed and
wrapped his arms around him. "I never thought-"

"What?" he asked.

"That fucking you could be so damned good."

He smiled against Miles's chest. Everything would be all
right, he thought as he drifted off; he knew it.

He awoke twenty minutes later to find himself alone in bed.
What a night, he thought, staring at the ceiling in wonder
and amazement. He had been hoping for months that Miles
would break free from his obsession and choose to live in
the present. He had been so passionate, so - well, almost
desperate in his lovemaking. Julian only wished he could
figure out why the man had been asking about whether they'd
remember-

And he sat bolt upright in bed as the truth suddenly hit
him.

"MILES!" he cried frantically as he jumped out of bed,
quickly pulling on his trousers before rushing into the main
room. "NO! Don't-"

But he was still in the front room, an old-style uniform
tunic in one hand as he packed his carryall. His head
snapped up as Julian entered the room.

He glared at Miles. "Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded,
keeping his voice low so as not to wake the girls. "Dammit,
man, what the hell is this?!"

Miles dropped the tunic into the bag and zipped it shut. "I
figured it out," he said, his face an unreadable mask.

"You - but I thought you'd given up! You said-"

Miles interrupted him, his voice and his eyes suddenly so
wracked with pain that Julian found himself unable to
interrupt. "Last week I finally got the numbers to crunch,"
he said. "I still had to figure out how to fine-tune the
arrival time, but...when I was workin' on the Defiant's
computer core yesterday the answer suddenly came to me."

"But why didn't you tell me?" he cried, grabbing his
shoulders. "I - we - Miles, we just-"

The words came out in a tumble. "I didn't tell you because I
didn't want you to know."

Julian's mouth dropped open. "You didn't - was what you said
me last night a lie? About loving me? Was it just some kind
of game you-"

"Julian," he said, raising a hand, "I didn't say anything I
didn't mean. If we were going to die, I wanted to show you
how I felt before it was too late. It's just..." He dropped
his gaze to the floor between them. "Plainly put, I was
hopin' you'd sleep through it. If you didn't know
beforehand, either you'd revert to the Julian you were, and
no harm done, or you'd wake up in Heaven with the girls."

Julian stared at him, then dropped onto the sofa, his anger
suddenly replaced by ice-cold fear. "Oh God, the girls."

"And that's another reason I didn't intend on tellin' you,"
Miles said. "I didn't think it was fair to make you choose
to leave 'em behind."

"You're right," he said hollowly. "I couldn't make that
decision." He looked up at Miles. "But you should have told
me. If I hadn't woken up, they would have been alone,
when..."

Miles had the decency to look ashamed. "Didn't think of
that."

They remained in silence, Julian on the sofa, Miles standing
across from him, his bag slung across his shoulder. "I know
you have to do this," Julian finally said. "As I said last
night, we damaged the timeline and it's our duty to repair
it. That doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I know."

Julian rose to his feet. "Give me fifteen minutes before
you-" and he ran a hand over his eyes. "That'll give me the
chance to get the girls in here so I'll be holding them when
it happens."

"I'm glad you'll be here for them."

Their eyes met. "If I don't see you in the next world..."
Julian began.

Miles cupped Julian's chin in one hand and kissed him,
gently, then turned and left without looking back.

Julian watched him leave. Part of him wanted to run after
him, to stop him, to get on his knees and beg him, plead
with him to reconsider. But no: what Miles was doing was
necessary, and he had to let him do it. "Necessary," he
muttered, biting back a bitter laugh. Necessary for Molly
and Fiona to die? Necessary for his life to be shattered?

He pushed that angry thought aside and went to get his
girls.

Molly peered up at him for a moment through drowsy eyes as
he scooped her up and carried her into the living room. He
placed her gently on the sofa, then went to get Fiona.

"What're you doing?" Molly asked him as he returned to the
living room with the baby.

"I thought we'd have a little cuddle on the sofa this
morning," he said as he took a seat beside her.

She looked up at him. "Silly Papa."

He smiled at her despite the grief that was threatening to
overwhelm him. "C'mere," he said, holding out an arm; she
snuggled in next to him and was almost immediately asleep.

As he looked down on his girls, he prayed that he'd die with
them. He couldn't imagine living in a world where they
didn't exist.

---

"Release docking clamps."

The ship eased away from the station; Miles steered it
towards the initiation point and loaded the co-ordinates
into the navigational computer. It was essential that he
begin the procedure at exactly the right location...

A reflection in the console made him look up. It was Bajor
above him, verdant, full of life.

As the ship passed under the dappled planet, he thought of
the billions of men, women and children who lived there.

He thought of Iliana's words: "Better his death than
Cardassia's or even Bajor's. What is even the best man
compared to three billion?"

He thought of Julian's words. "I want to stay here. For the
first time in my life, I'm happy."

He thought of Molly, this Molly, holding up her arms to him
that morning and kissing him, telling him she loved him.

He thought of the baby, her smell, her eyes as she looked up
at him.

He thought of Julian, of the anguish on his face as Miles
left.

And as he looked up again at the green skies of Bajor, he
thought of Keiko, and wondered if she would want him to
sacrifice an entire planet, or more, for her and the
children.

If he succeeded, it was likely that the Founders would
destroy Bajor and Deep Space Nine. Since he likely wouldn't
remember this timeline he wouldn't be able to stop them. And
his wife and children would likely die, along with billions
of others.

He got up and began to pace, then stopped and slammed his
hand into a bulkhead.

---

Julian checked the chronometer; ninety minutes had gone by
since Miles had left them. Surely he should have made the
change by now, he thought, as Fiona slumbered in his arms
and Molly dozed beside him.

Just then the front door slid open. Julian looked over his
shoulder and found Miles standing in the doorway, staring at
the bag in his hand, a tortured look on his face. "I,
um...looks like we'll be staying here for a while," he said.

He sprang to his feet. "You-"

"Let's get them back to bed first," Miles said, cutting him
off before he could wake the girls. "We'll talk afterwards."

He nodded as he carried Fiona to her room. As soon as the
door closed behind him, though, he slumped against the wall,
holding the baby tight as he tried to stop the trembling
that threatened to pull him apart. Thank God, he thought:
his girls were safe.

Until that moment he hadn't realized how mind-numbingly
furious he had been at the Universe, the Prophets, Miles,
and even himself. Fate had given him these precious girls,
but fate had almost ripped them from his arms; worst of all,
he might have never known they had existed. But they were
safe. They were safe, he repeated to himself, as he placed
Fiona in her crib and gently ruffled her short red hair.

He emerged from the bedroom to find that Miles had already
returned Molly to her room. "So what went wrong?" he asked
as he took a seat beside him.

"I did." His voice was low.

He frowned at him. "What do you mean you did? Did you make a
mistake in the calculations or-"

"I, um, made a mistake in thinking that Keiko would want me
to do this." He shrugged. "Or that it was the right thing to
do."

"What?" Julian's jaw dropped. "Miles," he said, "we changed
the timeline. Whether we like it or not, it's our
responsibility to change it back!"

His voice was low. "We did change the timeline, you're
right, but... when I was up there, on the way to the
initiation point, I got to thinkin'. The way things turned
out, with the Founders gone and the Dominion fallin' apart,
I have to ask myself if we were meant to do it."

"Meant to - Miles..."

"One of the things I've never been able to figure out," he
continued, "is why the Prophets let that Darvin idiot go
back in time. I mean, they could have just said no, right?
They said no to Sisko when he wanted to use the Orb back
after the first change."

"Perhaps the Prophets only let Darvin return in time because
we were there to prevent him from killing Kirk," Julian
suggested.

"But if they did, wouldn't it have been easier to let nobody
go back?" He blew out abreath. "I keep wonderin' if the
Prophets sent Darvin and us there deliberately so that you
and I could make the changes we did."

He stared at him. What was he- "But how can that-"

But Miles held up a hand. "Just hear me out. This ambassador
being born instead of Keiko and then gettin' posted to
Cardassia, that's what brought Garak and Iliana together,
right?"

"Yes, but-"

"And because they were together," Miles continued, "Garak
had access to his father-in-law's property, including that
spaceship he used to take out the Founder homeworld. Now
think about it: if the Prophets knew that the Founders were
plannin' to send the Bajoran sun into nova - which would
kill them as well, I remind you-"

He tried to interrupt again. "I know that, but you can't-"

"-they'd want to do something to stop them. And having Garak
destroy the Founders' homeworld did that. It eliminated the
threat."

"Are you saying," Julian said, shocked to his core, "that
the Prophets used you, me, Darvin, *and* Garak to protect
Bajor?" He shook his head. "That's the wildest conjecture
I've ever heard. We don't even know if the Founders would
have succeeded."

"But the Prophets might know, and - okay," he said, "maybe
it is wild. But - I was out there, over Bajor, getting ready
to make the jump, and I kept looking up at the planet. And I
kept thinking about all the people who lived there, and I
suddenly asked myself whether Keiko'd appreciate me putting
an entire planet in danger simply to save her and the kids.
And then I thought about what Iliana had said that day, that
even though she loved Garak she still didn't think his life
was worth riskin' a planet for."

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,"
Julian murmured, conceding the point.

Miles took Julian's hand. "If I had known of a way to go
back right after the change, I would've done it in an
instant. I was so bloody angry at how things turned out that
I would've destroyed the galaxy - hell, the universe to get
them back. But now that I've had time to think about it...I
don't think she'd want me to sacrifice a planet, or even
risk it, for her and the kids. And to be honest, those two
back there," and he nodded toward the girls' rooms, "I don't
know if I could sacrifice them either. Or you."

Julian searched his face. "I know you've thought this
through," he said, "and to be honest I'm relieved you didn't
do it, but - I'm still not convinced you've made the right
choice."

Miles snorted a laugh. "Yeah, well, that's the problem,
isn't it? There is no 'right choice'. Every choice is just a
different variety of wrong, and from what I can see this is
the least wrong choice I could make. If we went back, we
wouldn't remember what had happened here and we couldn't
stop the Founders from carryin' out their plan. Keiko and
the kids would have died anyway."

"But they would have lived first."

"I know. I know, I just-" and tears suddenly formed in his
eyes. "I'll never..."

"I've got you." He wrapped his arms around Miles, rocking
him as he cried, letting his own tears - of mourning for
Keiko and her daughter, of relief that his own children
would live - fall down his cheeks. "That's right, love. Let
it out."

"What's wrong, Dada?"

They both looked up to find Molly standing in front of them.
"Dada's heard-" he began, but Miles sat up and shook his
head as he turned to the girl.

"I've just heard something sad, sweetie." He picked her up
and pulled her into his lap. "Do you remember," he said to
her, "when Papa told you about the people I knew who went
far, far away and made me so sad?"

She nodded.

"Papa didn't tell you then, but there was a lady and a
little girl, and they lived in a very special place..."

Julian quietly stood and headed for Fiona's room. After
checking on the baby, who was thankfully still sound asleep,
he removed the painting of Keiko and Molly he'd commissioned
and brought it back into the living room.

As he entered the room, he heard Molly asking, "Is Keiko a
nice lady?"

"She was," Miles replied. "She'd have liked you very much."

Julian retook his seat beside Miles and showed Molly the
painting. "This," he said, pointing at one face, "was
Keiko."

The girl smiled at the picture. "She's pretty."

"Yes, she was," Julian said. "And the other girl, this one
down here," and he pointed at the painting of Molly, "had
the same name as you do."

"That's right," Miles said, his voice close to the breaking
point. "She was Molly too."

She stared up at him. "Where are they?"

The adults' eyes met. Julian looked down at his daughter and
said, "Honey, they had to go to heaven. They didn't want to,
and Dada and I tried so hard to save them, but we couldn't.
That's why we're so sad."

Molly suddenly wrapped her arms around Miles's neck and
kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sorry," she said.

Julian could see that Miles was struggling, trying so hard
not to break down again. "Molly," he said, "why don't I help
you get dressed?"

"No," Miles cut in, his voice stronger than Julian would
have expected. "I'll take her." He stood and carried her off
to her room, asking her on the way what she wanted to wear
that morning.

Hope bubbled up in Julian's heart as he watched them leave.
It was the first time Miles had helped her dress; the first
time he'd done anything for her spontaneously. He hoped
Miles had found it in his heart to finally accept them, and
him, as his family.

Fiona was wide awake, her eyes wide and focussed on Julian
as he carried the portrait back into her room. He propped
the painting up against the wall and picked her up. "Good
morning," he said to her, smiling down at her as he carried
her over to the room replicator. "I bet you're hungry." He
ordered a bottle of milk and sat with her in the rocking
chair. As she took the bottle, he thought again of how close
he had come to losing her and Molly.

A shadow crossed his face; he looked up to find Miles
standing in the doorway. "What are you going to do with all
those calculations you made?" he asked him. "Are you going
to save them, or submit them somewhere, or-"

"I destroyed 'em," Miles said, his mouth a thin line. "I
erased everything before I came home."

"All your work?" he asked, shocked. "Miles, that was almost
three months' worth-"

"It's-" and he sighed. "I don't want the temptation again.
If this is the best possible choice, so be it."

Just then Molly ducked into the room from behind Miles's
legs, stretching up on tiptoe to take a peek at Fiona. "My
baby," she said as she craned her neck to see the nursing
infant.

Miles chuckled - an honest laugh, Julian realized - as he
knelt down beside her. "Bunny," he said, using Julian's nickname
for her, "Fiona is Dada and Papa's baby. See? Dada has green eyes,"
he said, pointing at himself, "and baby has green eyes. Papa has a
little nose-"

"Not so little," Julian said defensively, dodging Miles's finger.

"-and baby has a little nose. You're her big sister."
 She giggled. "My baby too!"

"All right, your baby too. Come on," Miles said, holding out
his hand. "Let's make breakfast for you and me and Papa.
Okay?"

"'kay!" She took his hand and skipped out of the room beside
Miles.

Julian watched them leave, then kissed Fiona on the forehead
as she continued to nurse. I'll do my very best to keep us
all together, he thought to her.

He only hoped his best was good enough.

---

The End