[breee-op]

"Computer, locate Ensign Paris."

"Ensign Paris is in Turbolift 2."

[swish, stalk down two corridors, call turbolift]

"Do you see this, Tom?"

[blinks at enraged spouse, bites into a churro]

"Hi Harry."

[grasps spouse's face and angles it downward]

"I'm popping."

[finishes churro and produces a doughnut, exhibits unconcern for spouse's anxiety]

"Where're you popping?"

"Will you stop eating for a minute and listen to me?"

[spouse continues chewing]

"My ankles are swollen" [finally registers what spouse is eating] "Didn't the Doc put you on a diet?"

[spouse grabs for sweet treat, faces growling mate]

"You touch my doughnut, Harry, and you won't ever get any more."

[popping spouse frets peevishly]

"Time was when I touched your doughnut all the time, but I haven't been getting *any* since this whole thing started so how will *I* know the difference?"

[evil smile] "You'll know, Har, believe me."

[ignores argument in favor of complaining, popping spouse points at Starfleet boots]

"They don't fit. Yesterday they fit. Today they don't."

[licking fingers, spouse peers at boots]

"What happened?"

"That's what I'm telling you. I was standing all day at the Ops and they swelled."

"So?" [clueless smile while patting pocket for last piece of chocolate]

[grim spouse elucidates clearly] "*So....* I can't get my boots off and when I try to lean over, this bulge is in my way." [points to vague swelling in midsection]

[peers at spouse's bulge doubtfully] "You're barely showing Har. You can still bend over."

[mulish pout]

"OK, I'll help." [squats at spouse's feet]

[erect spouse hisses] "Not here Tom, Get up."

[pained groan from pilot]

"Tom? Tom? What's going on? Get up?"

[groaning spouse crumples short distance to floor]

"Dammit. Computer, two to beam to sick bay."

[officious greeting] "Good afternoon gentlemen, please state the nature.... Mr. Paris, what's wrong?"

[tricorder whirrs]

[tugging on EMH's hand, crowding closer to read tricorder] "What's wrong, Doc? He just kinda fainted."

"Give me room to work, Mr. Kim."

[speaks to groaning pilot and worried spouse]

"I need to talk to you, Ensigns. Let me get you comfortable first."

[administers painkiller, relieved pilot sighs]

"Damn that hurt. Sorry Doc. I probably shouldn't have eaten those last two eclairs just before the churro."

"Don't forget the doughnut." [spouse blabs aloud, still ticked off]

[EMH looks faintly green] "We need to talk about your diet again, Mr. Paris, but something else caused this."

[EMH frowns gravely, speaks hesitantly, pilot and ops officer move close together, hold hands]

"The triplets are not flourishing, Mr. Paris. The pain you were feeling is your body telling you something is wrong."

[spouses exchange a look, pilot asks nervously] "Isn't there something you can do about it?"

[doctor sighs] "I can give you additional hormones, I can confine you to bed. I can strengthen the placental pathways. I can and will do any number of things to save these babies."

[blond pilot reads behind the words] "What's the worst case scenario, Doc?"

[looks at pilot unflinchingly] "That you will lose them all."

[soft gasp, chafes spouse's cold hand] "It's OK, Tom. You'll be OK."

[doctor adds compassionately]

"We are trying to fool nature here, Mr. Paris. I truly am sorry, but sometimes no matter what we do, nature wins."

The End

Continued in Parenting 203