The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea- Chapter 12

The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

by Sita Z

Disclaimers in Chapter 1

****

Chapter 12

"Just look at that!"

"What do you mean?"

"Those tiny hands... and her feet! So small!"

"Well, she is a baby. You'd expect her to have small hands and feet."

"Lieutenant!"

"Really, I can't see why women are so potty about babies. I mean, they scream, they burp, they sme- ouch! What did you hit me for?"

"Because you're being stupid."

"It's insubordination to hit a superior officer, Ensign."

"Not when he's being stupid."

The voices were talking at a distance, only slowly taking on substance and becoming clearer. Trip realized that it was a man and a woman talking, but he was only gradually taking in their words, and at first couldn't tell whom the voices belonged to. His thoughts wouldn't focus, still slowly swimming up from the depths of oblivion, and he concentrated on the sound of their voices, using them as a guide to return his mind to consciousness.

"You think she's hungry?" The woman's voice again.

"I don't think so. Phlox fed her an hour ago, and he said she'd had enough to last her at least three hours."

"He let you watch?" Envy crept into her voice, and the man sounded rather smug as he answered.

"Of course. He even let me hold her while he was filling the bottle."

"Phlox let you hold a baby?"

"Why shouldn't he? I wouldn't drop her, if that's what you're thinking."

"I always knew that man was crazy."

"You're just jealous."

"Jealous? I thought you were the one who didn't care about babies?"

"You're jealous because I got to hold her, and you didn't."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"Okay, maybe I am jealous. But you've got to admit, her feet are really cute."

Carefully, fighting the heaviness of his lids, Trip opened his eyes. At first, his surroundings were only a blurred haze of colors, but then his vision cleared, and the objects around him began to take shape. He was in a small, dimly lit room, lying on a bed with the curtains half-drawn and hiding part of the room from view. He noticed his arms resting in front of him on the blanket, an IV tube inserted into his left hand. His body felt strange, heavy and sluggish, as if it didn't really belong to him. He tried to move his arm, and suddenly noticed that something else had changed. The bulge on his left – was gone.

Trip stared at the place where formerly the blankets had covered the protuberance, and it took his weary mind a while to realize what this meant. The operation was over. He had survived. And the child –

"I think she's waking up." Behind the curtain, the man spoke up again, causing Trip to jump slightly. Now he knew that it was Malcolm and Hoshi he'd been listening to, but he had no idea what they would be doing in here. In fact, he had no idea what he was doing in here. His brain was still refusing to cooperate, and he blinked, trying to shake off the confused snatches of thought that were swirling through his mind.

"I'd better go and get Dr. Phlox." There was a movement behind the curtain, and a moment later Hoshi appeared. She threw a quick glance in his direction and turned to the door, then her head snapped around again.

"Commander!"

Her lips curved upward in a smile. Right then the curtains moved again, and Malcolm emerged, breaking into a grin as well when his eyes fell on Trip.

"You're awake!"

Trip tried to answer their smiles, but it felt more like a grimace to him. "Hi," he said weakly, surprised that he was able to produce any sound at all. His throat felt like sandpaper, dry and parched.

"How are you feeling?" Malcolm glanced at something above Trip's head. Hoshi, who'd picked up a glass from the nightstand, walked over to the sink, and a moment later there was the sound of water running.

Trip cleared his throat. "Okay," he said, swallowing to get rid of the vile taste in his mouth. "A little tired."

"That is to be expected, Commander."

Trip turned his head in the direction where the voice had come from, and a moment later Phlox walked into his range of vision. The doctor smiled.

"I saw on the monitor outside that you were awake," he said, briefly checking on the bio screen above Trip's head. "Very good. You seem to be recovering from anesthesia just fine."

"Here." Hoshi had returned, carrying a glass of water. "You must be thirsty."

"Thanks." Trip began to carefully prop himself up on his elbow, but Phlox' hand held him back.

"Don't try to sit up just yet, Commander." The doctor reached for something on the bed frame, and Trip felt the head end of the bed being raised until he sat propped up, able to survey the room. Hoshi handed him the glass, and he took a small sip. The feeling of water in his throat was wonderful, but his stomach gave a small lurch when confronted with the cool liquid.

"Take it slowly, Commander, we don't want you to get sick." Phlox took the glass after Trip had taken another sip, and put it back onto the nightstand. "You've had intravenous feeding for almost two weeks now, and your stomach is still quite weak. It'll take some time for you to get used to solid food again."

Trip laid his head back on his pillow. "Did... did everythin' go alright?"

The question sounded strange to him, but no one else seemed to think so. Malcolm and Hoshi smiled, and the doctor nodded.

"There was a small incident during the operation, but fortunately neither you nor the child have suffered any damage."

Trip decided he'd rather not ask about the nature of this "small incident". "Is she okay?"

"In very good health, as far as I can tell."

Trip bit his lip. "Can I... can I see her?"

Hoshi, who was standing next to the curtain, pulled back the white fabric until the whole room was visible, then lifted the curtain's end and secured it behind the bed. Trip's eyes fell on a small cot that stood against the wall, only a few feet away from his biobed. There wasn't much to see from his position, only a pair of tiny brown legs, but all of a sudden he felt scared. In only a moment's time he was going to see her, actually see the child whose movements he had felt and followed on Phlox' bio screens, and somehow the idea frightened him. He had never really thought of how it would be, how she would look like – for a long time he hadn't allowed himself to think about it, and later he had been somewhat... preoccupied. Trip felt that he was in no way prepared for what was going to happen.

He watched Phlox bent down over the cot, and a moment later the doctor straightened up again, holding the small baby in his arms. She seemed to be awake for she moved, squawking softly as Phlox carried her over to the bed.

"Be careful to support her head," the doctor advised, and Trip sat stiffly as the child was placed into his arms. She was warm, and moved, and at the same time seemed to weigh almost nothing. It surprised him how small she was. Trip took in every aspect of her appearance, the bronze scales that were her skin, her hands and feet –Hoshi had been right, they were indeed incredibly small – and the silvery blue eyes that reminded him of Ah'Len and her crewmates. Carefully, he reached out to push back the soft cap covering her head, and wasn't surprised as he felt the same tingling sensation he had experienced when Ah'Len had touched his face. He noticed the thin ridge of bone on her forehead, and let his fingers linger on her cheek for a moment before pulling his hand back. Most of the baby's body was covered by the pale yellow stretchsuit she was wearing, but her legs were bare, and moving constantly.

"Quite a handful, isn't she," a voice said next to him, and Trip looked up. Malcolm smiled.

"I held her earlier when the doctor prepared her bottle for feeding," he explained. Hoshi grinned.

"Yes, and he's been telling everyone he's met ever since."

Malcolm blushed. "I haven't."

Trip bit back a smile, and returned his attention to the child in his arms. Her eyes were resting on him, and he had the distinct impression that she was scrutinizing him as well.

"Hey," he said softly, and noticed that his earlier apprehension had completely vanished. It was strange, holding her in his arms, strange and new to him, but it was nothing to be afraid of. "Hey there, little one."

"Excuse me, Commander..." Phlox' voice made him look up again. Trip realized that he'd just been talking to the child in front of everyone, and felt his cheeks grow hot, but no one seemed to think it strange or funny. "If you're feeling up to more visitors just yet, I'd like to go get the Captain. Subcommander T'Pol managed to convince him to lie down for a while after the operation, but I promised him to wake him up as soon as you regained consciousness."

Trip nodded, remembering his conversation with Jon shortly before the operation. The Captain had tried everything to distract him from his anxiety, staying there as long as Trip remembered being still awake and aware of what was happening. And knowing Jon he was pretty sure the Captain had stayed during the whole thing, no matter how unpleasant it might have become. "Yes, that'd be nice. Thanks, doc."

The door slid shut behind the doctor, and Trip, realizing that he was still sitting as rigidly as he had when Phlox had first given him the child, relaxed a little into the pillows. The baby seemed to be feeling perfectly fine where she was, and he had to admit it was a pleasant feeling, holding the small warm bundle in his arms.

"May I?" Malcolm had come closer, his hand hovering hesitantly over the baby's face. Trip nodded. Very carefully, Malcolm touched her cheek, and again there was a faint energy discharge at the contact, causing Malcolm to pull back his hand in surprise. Then, however, he brought his fingers back to her face, more confidently this time, and his eyes widened at the soft crackling sound when he stroked her cheek.

"What is that?"

Trip shrugged. "I have no idea. Ah'Len told me somethin' similar happens when two of them touch, but she never told me why it happens. Maybe it's got somethin' to do with their telepathic abilities."

"Or some other form of nonverbal communication." Hoshi carefully ran her finger over the baby's arm. The child didn't seem to mind the attention, and only squawked in protest when Malcolm drew back his hand.

Hoshi looked as if she wanted to add something to her theory about nonverbal communication, but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening again. Malcolm and Hoshi both turned around, and Trip saw that Phlox was back, followed by a rather disheveled-looking Jonathan Archer. The Captain's eyes were still a little puffy from sleeping, but that impression vanished the moment his face broke into a broad smile.

"Trip!"

Forgetting about his sleepiness, Jon was at his bedside in two swift strides, and Trip suspected that he would have been pulled into a hug if it hadn't been for the doctor and the two younger officers watching. And, of course, for the child in his arms.

"Hey, Cap'n."

"Glad to see you awake." Jon smiled. "And some else seems to be awake as well." He raised his eyebrows at the baby who left no room for doubt that she was indeed very awake, gurgling softly and kicking the air with her feet. "Well, she does seem to like you."

Trip shrugged, and surprisingly didn't even feel any embarrassment at Jon's words. "Guess so." There was a small pause, and Trip thought of what a strange picture they must look, three Starfleet officers and a Denobulan doctor gathered around the bed of the Chief Engineer who was holding his newborn baby in his arms. It was a weird situation if there had ever been one, and certainly not what he had joined Starfleet for. And still, he couldn't help but smile at the idea.

"How're you feeling, Trip?" Jon studied him worriedly, and Trip guessed that he looked as weary and exhausted as he felt. His arms and legs were still strangely heavy, presumably an after-effect of the anesthesia, and he felt a dry ache in his throat.

"I'm okay."

"As to Commander Tucker's true condition," Phlox interrupted, raising his eyebrows at Trip, "I believe he is still rather tired, probably suffering from a sore throat, and in dire need of rest. I suggest the Lieutenant and Ensign Sato leave now; you can stay, Captain, but I must ask you to see to it that the Commander does not overexert himself." At Hoshi and Malcolm's disappointed looks he continued, "You can come back later, of course. But please refrain from bringing half of Engineering along when you come for your next visit. As I said, both the Commander and the child still need a lot of rest."

Malcolm nodded, and Hoshi stroked the baby's cheek again. "See you later."

Trip noticed that their words of goodbye were directed rather towards the child than him, and exchanged a dry glance with Jon after the door had slid shut. "See, she's already stealin' the show from me."

Jon grinned. "That was to be expected." He drew himself a chair, taking a seat next to the bed. "Can I hold her?"

Trip actually felt a little reluctant to let go of the small warm body snuggled in the crook of his arm, but it was the least he could do, allowing Jon to hold the child he had all but helped deliver.

"Sure," he said, and Phlox stepped forward, taking the baby from him and placing her into the Captain's arms. Jon sat rather stiffly at the first contact, just as Trip had. As his hand brushed her arm, there was a soft crackling sound, and the Captain's eyes widened in surprise. He touched her again, carefully, and the crackling repeated itself.

"Is it normal for that to happen?" he asked.

"I was rather surprised myself when I first noticed," Phlox said. "I can only guess what is causing this unique reaction. It would take further tests to verify its cause-"

"No way," Trip said quickly. Phlox looked surprised, and an amused twitch tugged at the corners of his mouth before he was able to cover it up.

"Commander, I have no intention of subjecting her to any tests that would harm her, physically or psychically. As I said, I can only guess what's causing this reaction. It might be a special form of telepathic energy. The data the Xyrillians transferred contained very little medical information, and this particular phenomenon is not mentioned at all."

Phlox' mention of the Xyrillian medical data reminded Trip of a question he'd been meaning to ask for some time now. "I've been wonderin', doc... you said with Xyrillians the baby's DNA is exclusively the mother's, and the father is only a host who carries the child to term." The doctor nodded. "So... is her DNA a direct replica of Ah'Len's genes? There've gotta be some differences."

"A very good question, Commander." Phlox beamed, delighted at being able to share some of his medical knowledge. "It's true, a Xyrillian baby's genetic structure develops solely from the mother's DNA, but of course it's not a clone or something of the like. I found out that, after the blastodermic tissue has been transferred to the male's body, certain hormones are being excreted which cause the mutation rate of the embryo's genes to increase at an abnormal speed. It is only logical to assume that in about half of the cases the mutations lead to a change of the embryo's sex, since the genes coming from the mother of course do not contain any male chromosomes. In your case this has obviously not happened, but your child is still not only a simple replica of her mother's genes. The mutations seem to not only concern the sex of the child, but also its looks as well as its physical and mental condition. It is really fascinating, the way the mutations create a new being that can actually be very different from its mother. There are, of course, certain similarities, but there is a high probability that for example hereditary diseases will be eliminated in the process."

Trip knew that Phlox could go on like that for hours, and interrupted when the doctor paused to take a breath. "So the male's DNA is not passed on to the next generation?"

Phlox seemed to understand what he was getting at. "No, Commander. The father's body only serves as a host. But from what I have learned, it is the father who is mainly responsible for bringing up and caring for the children. I believe it is safe to assume that most Xyrillian fathers have a very close relationship with their children, maybe even more so than the mother."

Trip nodded slowly. He'd assumed as much, judging from their two short encounters with the Xyrillians. It had been Ah'Len's male crewmates who had reacted with shock and disgust to the idea of transferring a fetus; she herself hadn't voiced any opinion concerning this obviously touchy subject.

Up until now, Jon's attention had been torn between the squawking baby in his arms and Phlox' lecture, but now he joined in the conversation.

"Speaking of child care, doc – will she be able to survive in this environment? I mean, the conditions on the Xyrillian ship were very different..."

"Oh, that's no problem at all." Phlox smiled. "Her metabolism is designed for slightly different pressure and gravity conditions, but I've developed a formula which will take care of that. All you'll have to do is add it to her food about once a week, Commander."

That reminded Trip of something. He bit his lip, not looking at Jon when he asked his next question.

"I'm not gonna have to..." He left the sentence unfinished, and only raised his left arm. The nipples he had grown shortly after his return from the Xyrillian ship were still there, covered by two pieces of white band-aid. Phlox raised his eyebrows.

"Feed the baby with these nipples? No, Commander. I assume the Xyrillian hormones have stimulated the development of these appendages, but in your case they are of course non-functional, as you do not have any mammary glands in your arm. I have analyzed her metabolic chemistry and so was able to synthesize a nutrient formula which will provide for her needs. I'll show you later how to feed her."

Trip nodded, suddenly feeling some of his earlier apprehension return. Talking to Phlox was only giving him a vague idea of all the things he would have to learn, and learn fast. He'd never before taken care of a baby, much less an alien one, and from now on it would be his responsibility to care for this child, and ensure her health and well-being.

"Doctor..." Jon's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I think she's fallen asleep."

Trip turned his head, and saw that the baby's eyes had closed, her small hands resting on her chest. Phlox smiled as he picked her up.

"Yes, she's had quite a busy day. Or night, for that matter." He gently lowered the sleeping child back into her cot, checking the heat regulator on the side of the container before he turned back to his other patient. "The same goes for you, Commander. You're still recovering from major surgery, and I'd say you've had enough excitement for one morning."

"Morning?" Trip asked. He'd lost all sense of time, and was surprised to hear that it was actually "daytime" at the moment. For some reason it felt like the middle of the night to him.

"Yes, it's 1030 ship's time. I suggest you try to rest now, Commander."

Trip opened his mouth to protest, but then realized that he was, indeed, tired. In fact he was hardly able to keep his eyes open anymore.

"Get some sleep, Trip," Jon said, getting up from his chair, and briefly laying a hand on Trip's shoulder. "I'll be back later."

"Jon..."

The Captain turned around again. "Yes?"

Trip bit his lip. "Thanks. You know, for stayin' with me earlier. I know it must've been quite... unpleasant to watch. But... well, I jus' wanted to say that I appreciate what you did."

Jon smiled. "You're welcome. And don't forget, we still have to watch that game."

"Yeah right." Trip answered the Captain's grin. "I don't want to miss it when Monterey lose."

"Forget it, Commander." At the door, Jon turned around one more time. "Sleep well, Trip."

The bulkhead slid shut, and Trip lay back on his pillow, closing his eyes. He heard Phlox busy himself with the bio screen above his head, but the doctor didn't try to talk to him, and Trip had no wish to start another conversation. Sleep was tugging at the edges of his mind, and he welcomed the feeling, giving in to it and allowing himself to drift off. Later there would be time enough for talking.

###

When Trip woke up again, it was very quiet around him. Someone had half-shut the curtains surrounding his bed, and the lights were dimmed, the only bright glow coming from the bio screens on the wall. Slowly, still a little disoriented from sleeping, Trip turned his head and saw Malcolm sitting on the chair next to his bed. He was reading a book, holding it close to his face to be able to make out the words in the dim light. Trip squinted to make out the title on the cover of the old paperback, but in the semi-darkness wasn't able to read the small letters.

"You're gonna ruin your eyes, Malcolm," he said, causing Reed to jump and lower the book.

"Commander!" Malcolm laid the book on the nightstand, and now Trip was able to read its title: Three Men in a Boat. "I didn't realize you were awake."

"Only just woke up." Leaning forward, Trip picked up the book, and leafed through its pages. "My sister Lizzy read that when she was in high school. She said it was funny, though a little weird."

Malcolm gave a slightly embarrassed smile. "I read it as a kid, and found it in an old bookshop back in San Francisco shortly before we left spacedock. I don't really know why I brought it along."

Trip read a few lines and smiled. "I'd like to borrow it one day."

"You're very welcome, Commander," Malcolm said, formal as ever. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah." Trip raised his hand to cover a yawn and took a look around. "What time is it?"

"About four in the afternoon." Malcolm paused. "The Captain was here about half an hour ago, but he said he didn't want to wake you up. He's been talking to your parents."

Trip sighed. "What did they say?"

"They want you to call as soon as possible." Malcolm seemed a little uncomfortable, relating the Captain's private calls. "Your sister said to say hello as well, and she wants to know why she wasn't invited to the baby shower."

"Lizzy." Trip groaned, and Malcolm hastened to add, "I'm only saying what the Captain told me."

"I know." Trip could clearly picture Lizzy's face when she had heard the news, and knew that this wouldn't be the end of it by far. His little sister excelled at teasing her brother about his talent for disaster, and Trip knew that now she had enough ammunition to last her for several years.

Before he had the time to ponder on his misery, however, a noise came from the direction of the cot. A short, angry whine, then a pause, and a brief moment later the baby began to cry. Her wailing was surprisingly loud, and Trip tried to sit up, swearing under his breath when a dizzy spell washed over him. The baby cried louder, and Trip pushed his legs over the edge of the bed, feeling he had to get over there even though he had no idea what to do.

Malcolm had gotten up from his chair as well. "Commander, the doctor said you're supposed to stay in bed..."

"Well, I can't just let her scream, can I?" Trip felt a painful tugging in his left hand, and realized that he was still hooked up to the drip. Blinking furiously to get rid of the giddy feeling, he groped for the IV needle, but Malcolm caught him by the wrist before he could pull out the plug.

"You're not supposed to get up, Commander!"

The baby's cries were getting louder and louder, and between Malcolm hindering his way and the dizzy spell Trip felt something like panic rise within him.

"Can't you hear that she's cryin'? There's gotta be somethin' you do when a baby's cryin'!"

Malcolm's hand was still firmly on his shoulder. "She's probably just hungry. You'll have to give her her bottle."

Finally, the dizzy feeling subsided, and the room took clear shape again. "I can't," Trip said, raising his voice to be heard over the racket. "Phlox hasn't taught me how to feed her yet, and I-"

"Maybe I can show you."

Trip stared at the Lieutenant. "You?"

Malcolm shrugged. "Well, as I said, Phlox let me watch when he fed her this morning. You lie back down, and I'll go and get a bottle."

The Lieutenant disappeared through the door, and Trip reluctantly lay back on the mattress, fighting the urge to jump out of bed and rush over to where the baby was screaming her head off. He'd probably only end up passing out on the floor, and there wasn't much use in knocking himself out only to be lectured by Phlox afterwards on how important it was not to overexert himself.

The door opened again, and Malcolm returned, carrying a small feeding bottle with a thick, white liquid inside. With a calm Trip certainly didn't feel at the moment, Reed propped up the bed and handed Trip the bottle, then walked over to the cot. Trip was impressed when he saw how Reed quickly and efficiently picked up the screaming baby, then carried her over to the bed. The child stopped crying for a moment when she was placed in his arms, but then opened her mouth again and screamed even louder than before. Bottle in hand, Trip looked up at Malcolm.

"And now?"

"Be careful to support her head so she doesn't have any trouble swallowing, and then gently touch the corner of her mouth with the bottle's teat."

Hesitantly, Trip followed Malcolm's directions, and to his surprise the baby stopped crying immediately, her mouth searching the bottle and finding it less than a second later. She began to suck, and Trip looked up at Malcolm.

"See?" Reed smiled. "She was just hungry."

Trip shook his head. "How the heck did you know what to do?"

Malcolm shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Well, I watched Phlox, and it didn't seem that hard. Be careful to set down the bottle from time to time so she can swallow."

Returning his attention to the baby who had already emptied a fourth of the small container, Trip felt a smile tug at his lips.

"You know, it should have been you goin' to the Xyrillian ship, not me. You're a natural talent."

Malcolm snorted. "No, thank you very much."

The baby's eyes had closed, and her features were no longer pulled into an unhappy grimace. She seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her meal, and Trip realized that this whole feeding business was a lot easier than he had imagined. When he set down the bottle like Malcolm had told him, he noticed a thin trickle of white liquid running down her chin. Using the corner of his sheets, he gently cleaned off the dribbled fluid, then let her continue her dinner.

"Looks like I'm gettin' the hang of it," he said, and Malcolm nodded.

"I told you, it's easy."

They both watched her as she continued to suck, and the sight caused a sense of wonder in Trip. Less than twenty-four hours ago he hadn't yet known whether he was going to survive at all, and here he was, being taught how to feed the baby by Malcolm Reed, of all people. Glancing at Malcolm from the corner of his eye, he noticed the soft expression on Reed's usually stoic features when he looked at the child. Trip suddenly remembered the intensity in Malcolm's dry voice when they'd had their conversation in the messhall more than six weeks ago. Then, and only a few moments ago he'd gotten a glimpse of a hidden side of Reed, a side no one would have expected in the quiet Lieutenant who had that strange love for explosions, and was so reluctant to "fraternize" with his fellow officers. Trip suspected that few people had ever seen it, and the fact that in his presence Reed allowed himself to lower his defenses made him proud.

"Have you thought about what you're going to call her?" Malcolm asked softly, bringing Trip back to the present. He hesitated. He'd been thinking about it, of course, and the padd with the underlined names was still stored away in the drawer back in his quarters, but somehow none of the names he had chosen seemed to fit. In his mind's eye, his subconscious had always pictured a human baby, a chubby baby girl with rosy cheeks and curly hair. In connection with the child in his arms, none of those names sounded quite right.

"I don't know," he said finally. "She's... she's so different, y'know what I mean?"

Malcolm nodded. "Calling her Anna or Lisa doesn't sound right, does it?"

"No." Trip sighed. "But I guess I'll have to think of somethin' soon."

Malcolm was silent for a moment. "Why not give her a Xyrillian name?"

The question startled Trip, for some reason. "A Xyrillian name? The only girl's name I know is Ah'Len, and I'm not sure I want to call her that."

Malcolm shook his head. "I didn't think so. But you could look up the names in the data the Xyrillians sent us when you first went over to their ship. I asked the Captain if I could go through it to look up their weapon technology, and as far as I remember there were quite a few names mentioned in the historical and cultural part. Maybe you'll find one you like."

Trip hadn't yet thought of that possibility, but it seemed like a good idea. He had no intention of naming the child after her mother, but a Xyrillian name sounded like a solution he could live with. And it wouldn't hurt, reading a little about the Xyrillian culture in general.

"I think I'm gonna give it a try. Thanks, Malcolm."

Reed smiled. "You're welcome."

A small noise came from below, and Trip turned his attention back to the child. She had finished her meal, but for some reason seemed restless, squirming in his arms and squawking rather unhappily. Trip frowned.

"You think there's somethin' wrong?"

Malcolm grinned. "Well, not really. But you're going to have to burp her so she doesn't get a stomach ache."

"Right." Trip looked down at the baby, not really sure what to do next.

"It's easy. Phlox showed me how to do it. Just pick her up so that she's facing you, like that." Malcolm demonstrated with his hands. "Put her head on your shoulder and then gently pat her back until she... well, burps."

Impressed that Malcolm seemed to have memorized all the intricacies of feeding a baby, Trip did exactly as he said, and was soon rewarded with the sound of a small belch, followed by a warm and wet feeling on his shoulder. Malcolm's eyes widened.

"Oh, I forgot. Phlox said always put a napkin on your shoulder before burping her, or she'll spit it all over you." He threw a rueful glance at the wet spot on Trip's sickbay pajama. "Sorry, Commander."

"Never mind." Trip smiled dryly. "If it hadn't been for you, she'd probably still be screamin', and I'd be climbin' the walls by now."

After she'd relieved herself of the air in her stomach the baby quieted down again, and a few minutes later her eyes had closed shut. Trip took her back down, resting her head in the crook of his arm. She slept on peacefully, and he realized that he was rapidly getting used to holding her in his arms like that, a feeling that had been completely alien only a few hours ago.
Thinking of how Malcolm had shown him how to feed her, a not-quite-so-old memory came to his mind and he smiled. Reed raised his eyebrows.

"What's so funny?"

Trip shook his head. "Remember that time in the messhall? When you told me you were goin' to help me? Well, I guess neither of us envisioned quite that situation at the time."

Reed bit his lip. Trip saw a smile in the corner of his mouth, but there was not only amusement to his expression when he answered.

"Probably not." He paused briefly. "And neither did I have any right to tell you what to do. Commander, I want to apologize-"

"Don't." Trip shook his head, and continued firmly, "Don't apologize, Malcolm. I'm glad you talked to me that night. You know, in a way I knew right from the beginnin' that undergoin' the operation was not an option, but I'd probably have realized only when it was already too late." He swallowed. It wasn't easy to talk about these things, especially not while he was holding the baby in his arms. It triggered feelings of guilt within him, guilt and at the same time deep relief that he had decided against what had seemed the only reasonable solution at the time.

"But you could have died." Malcolm didn't seem ready to forgive himself that easily. Trip sighed.

"Yes, I could have. And she could have died as well. But it didn't happen, and that's what's important, don't you think?"

Malcolm looked up, and this time the smile lingered on his lips. He didn't say anything, but Trip saw that his words hadn't fallen on deaf ears. There seemed nothing to add, and so they sat in silence for a while, listening to the almost inaudible breathing of the sleeping child.

Trip felt strange. Everything seemed like it ought to be, and still the situation was weirder than anything else he'd ever seen in his life. In complete ignorance of her own contribution to that weirdness, the baby in his arms slept like there wasn't a worry in the world, and only for the moment Trip decided to follow her example, leaning back in the pillow and allowing his thoughts to drift. He was scared, of course, but in a way, he realized to his own surprise, he was also very curious to see what the future had in store.

TBC

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Three people have made comments

magnificent! I love it! Is there more? please say there's more!

Very, very touching, please continue.

Malcolm teaching Trip how to feed a baby, that's great. I'm curios about the name you'll give the child, sorry, will Trip give the child. ;)