This installment is dedicated to Mykkhal cuz he is ill.  Thanks to Amirin as always...

"Mr. Paris.  This is a simple procedure.  I have done it before."

"No offense Doc, but YOU haven't."

[guilty silence]

"You have?"

[scratching head, using delaying tactics]  "Which other person is pregnant on the ship?"

[fussing with instruments, spots a pale ensign trying to escape]

"Not so fast, Mr. Kim, I need to administer your hormone shot."

[mulish look, disgruntled glare at husband, endures hypospray stoically]

"There.  Ten days from now, Mr. Kim, we'll be ready for your placental implantation."

[escape thwarted, paler ensign returns to husband’s biobed]

"Now are we ready, Mr. Paris?"

[mutters in an aside]  "As I will never be."  [grasps husband's hand] "Do your worst, Doc."

[clears throat importantly]  "Well then, Mr. Paris, Mr. Kim, keeping in mind that the samples I received from you today would have to serve for both your pregnancies, I did my usual superb job and created over one hundred zygotes.  Of course, there will be genetic differences between your samples, but in order to avoid bias, I let the computer pick sixteen of the most viable."

[ignores two pairs of glazed eyed, lifts blue sheet across slim torso, long hiss, pressure on stomach,]  "I have just implanted eight, each in their own amniotic sacs."

[shocked stare in pale face]  "Oh Gawd, eight?"

"Yes Mr. Paris, you are officially pregnant."

[unwilling proud smile in pale face]  "You mean...?"

[concern for spouse and himself]  "Doc, eight?"

"Studies have shown that the body will usually resorb all but one of the embryos Mr. Kim.  In order to increase the chances of conception, I implanted more, but I expect only one live birth from each of you."

[relieved smile]  "How does it feel Tom?"

[moving husband’s hand to pat just above the navel]  "Kinda odd, Har."

"What did you give me, Doc?"

[prissy clearing of throat]  "This is not a lottery Ensign Paris."

[awestruck whisper]  "You're carrying our baby, Tom."

[blinks rapidly on tearing eyes]  "Yeah, Har.  You'll feel it too."

[reaching for Starfleet uniform]

"I don't think so Mr. Paris.  You will not be going anywhere for the next few hours.  I need to keep you here to be sure that attachment has been successful."

[slow rubbing of husband's very flat stomach]

"Listen to the Doc, Tom.  I’m going to the bridge, but I'll be back as soon as my shift is over."

[passionate kiss]

[shooing motions]  "Here, here, none of that.  Abstinence is the order of the day and quite a few to come, Ensigns."

[deflating erection]  "What?"

"Until I am satisfied that the fetus is growing and healthy, you won't be doing anything strenuous with your stomach.  By the time I clear you, it will be Mr. Kim's turn to heed my strictures."

[smug smile]  "So gentlemen, it will probably be a month before I will give the go ahead for exercise of any sort."

"Damn."

[swish, rapid departure]

"Don't be like that, Har."

[turning to glare at the EMH]  "You are enjoying this too much, Doc."

[gazing at the blank ceiling, recalling doctor's words]  "Hmmm, I have a few hours here, Doc; I intend to find out just who else IS pregnant on Voyager."

[hunted look]  EMH disappears.

"Doc?"

The End

Continued in Parenting 200