Date: Tue, 8 Jun 1999 22:39:56 +1000 From: "Catherine Allan" (kenandcath@earthling.net) Subject: ODOGEN: Get Me to the Church on Time (1/2) Welcome to part 4 of the Pit Saga. Those of you familiar with my series vignettes can settle down for a long haul, as the last one had something close to 20 parts :#) Big thanks to all six people who like my stories :) I'll keep 'em coming as long as I know I'm wanted. On with the show. Disclaimer: Paramount is a bunch of money-grubbing lowlifes who deliberately forced a perfectly good show to end just cause they didn't want it to beat TNG's record. I, on the other hand, make no money whatsoever. That's why this is here. Theirs is theirs, mine is mine, and the twain meet here below. ObInfo: This is part 4 of the Pit Saga [_Fighting the Pit Within_, _Outlaw Inlaws_ and _Riding Shotgun_ are parts 1-3 respectively.] which will never, ever be a reality because Paramount is full of dimrods. I dare them to follow fanfics lead and bring back Odo. And I double-dare them to have Odo and Kira have kids. :P Nyer :P Big thanks to Fliss for the Bajoran wedding blessings :) Get Me to the Church on Time Catherine Allan Now he knew what morning sickness was supposed to feel like. Odo groaned under his breath as Kira's infant [he'd disowned it after it interrupted a perfectly good nap] began 'kicking'. Again. Full Changeling children were quiet in utero, they barely made a ripple - literally; during their ten-month stay inside their parents. Not Kira's child. The hybrid Bajoran/Changeling infant had taken to bumping, stretching and knocking at him, which disturbed his physical form involuntarily, and made him feel ill. "It's your own fault," noted Kira as she bought him a tray full of varied foodstuffs. "Now that you're feeding it like a Solid, it's acting like a Solid." Despite how ill he felt, the child needed humanoid food, which meant that he did too. Humanoid dishes only served to accelerate the baby's growth, which alarmed everyone around him, except the Founders. Soon, they were telling him, the infant would develop its own subspace pocket, and its diameter would diminish to roughly the size of an orange. They seemed to forget that the infant was half Bajoran. And all trouble. "Calm down," he told his wildly agitating midriff and its contents. "Look, I'm feeding you. Now can't you nap like a good baby?" bump-thump, ripple, stretch... the baby was having none of it. Odo gritted his teeth and processed more calcium, more meats and vegetables, and another canister of Bashir's latest formula. Kira's child continued to perform callisthenics within. Nerys, much to his annoyance, laid a finger across his distended middle and said, "Shh..." then the child quieted. "I hate you." He didn't mean it and she knew it. "Just eat up and rest, Ale'al. We have a big day coming." "Don't mention the word 'big' around me. It's all I seem to hear lately." The door chime rang. "That'll be the daily doctor," Nerys answered it. It was Mora. Both doctor and news service in one. "How is he?" "Uncomfortable. He's the one lying on the couch and moaning." Mora walked past her, and said the words Odo was dreading. "Prophets! You're as big as a house... Are you sure you're not having twins?" "See?" Odo glared at his soon-to-be-wife. "It's the only adjective they've got." Mora scanned him. "Mmm-hm. Some very good growth. You've surpassed both Changeling *and* Bajoran growth patterns put together." The child began kicking again. "Hooray." Odo sarcasmed. Mora patted the movement, "Hello, in there. It's your Grampa Pol." *BUMP!* "It either likes you or hates you." Odo translated. Another door chime, which Nerys answered, of course. This time it was Gramma Kiran. "And how's our little Prophet's blessing today?" "Active," summarised Odo. "*Hyper* active." "And not so little any more." Nerys supplied. Alita touched his swollen abdomen and murmured to herself. The infant gave her a few little bumps as a greeting. "It's going to come early," she announced. "Prophets, that's a relief," Odo breathed. "I don't think I'd survive ten months of *this*." "How early is 'early'?" Nerys demanded. "Will it hurt the baby? Will it hurt Odo? Do you mean 'early by Changelings' or 'early by Bajorans'?" "Relax, Nerys. The baby knows enough to come out when it's done. It's just eager to get out and about. You'll have your wedding, but you'd better honeymoon near a hospital." "Y'thl had it easy," moaned Odo. "Y'thl?" "Some of the Links memories include one time a Founder was trapped on the wrong side of a war," Odo explained, absently chewing on some dried fruit. "She was carrying an infant the whole time, and delivered safely before the rest of the Dominion could rescue her. *She* never had to put up with *this* little acrobatic act." Bumpity-bump-bump, ripple, ripple, bump, kick. "She had to have a nice, quiet, little Changeling infant, and the nerve to think she was hard done by." Odo snorted. "I'm glad she's in prison." "You mean *her* name is Y'thl?" "The oldest Founders had names," Odo supplied, finishing off some crab sandwiches. "Y'thl was one of them. The eldest Founders had the biggest grudges, too." He fought against both artificial memories and the side- effects of Kira's child's activities. "Being forced to interact with Humanoids may be the best thing for her." "Quit worrying about other people, my boy," advised Alita. "It's doing you no good." "Yes, Gramma Kiran." "And do I have to sit on you to get you to eat?" "No, Gramma Kiran," Odo smiled as he reached for some Samatt. "See? I'm eating." "Is he always this limp?" Nerys blushed. "No. He's just having fun." Ops was in chaos. Kira couldn't help feeling that her staff was glaring daggers at her every time she turned her back on them. Who knew that most of the known galaxy would respond? Now DS9 was busier than it had ever been in history. It wasn't just the hundreds of individuals who wanted to attend, but the crews of the ships who bought them there *also* wanted to join what was looking to be the biggest party in the history of the Federation. Kira had given up on planning the party, and stuck with solving mere technical troubles. The main problem, how to make sure everyone saw the ceremony, was solved by commandeering every single viewscreen on the Station. Lwaxana and Gramma Kiran had taken over the rest. Their well- natured bickering was said to be heard 26 hours a day. Odo was hardly any help, the poor soul; his discomfort seemed to increase daily as their infant not only grew, but also grew increasingly more active. So far, their baby showed no signs of adapting it's own subspace pocket. According to Bashir, it was starting to shapeshift inside Odo, and was showing a preference for the Humanoid form. According to Odo, *her* child was showing a preference for punching and kicking with its new limbs. She did her best to comfort her beloved, noting that his agitation and the baby's were linked, but duty would have to call her away. The Station was crawling with people. So many, in fact, that she had to politely request that the ship's crews kept themselves to their ships. Which, in turn, meant she had to broadcast the ceremony over various subspace channels. While they were at it, they may as well do a holorecording of the whole thing. It would solve so many problems at once. At the edge of her mind was the everpresent awareness of her future husband, griping at feeling the equivalent of morning sickness. In a few minutes, the Founders currently on the station were going to visit, console, and probably Link in order to ease his suffering. It would be a definite relief when they did so. The last thing she needed today was second-hand nausea. Odo tried to find a calm centre, just as the Founders had advised, but it was hard work, since Nerys' baby was evidently trying to hit Bashir. His latest compromise for the child, keeping most of his matter liquid around the baby, seemed to be working as a decent buffer zone, but it made him look as if he had a pillow or three up his shirt. It looked as though today's adjective was 'huge'. Bashir and five others had used it at least three times each so far. "Relax, my boy," Gramma Kiran patted his arm in comfort. She had taken Nerys' place by his side for this visit, since his Ale'al was in Ops trying to sort out a veritable fleet of visiting ships. "You won't be the first one who's had to waddle up the aisle. Although before now, it used to be the womenfolk." Bashir passed close enough for the baby to knock the datapadd out of his hands. "Active little tyke, isn't it?" He bent to retrieve the padd, and narrowly escaped a black eye. "Any indication of *when* the child is going to develop its subspace pocket?" Bashir shrugged. "I don't even know *if* the child's going to develop one, to be honest." He returned to his console, adjusting the settings in order to closely monitor the infant. "The best thing I can do is watch and guess." "What's that glowing bit?" Asked Kiran Alita. It was no bigger than a pinhead on Bashir's display. "Hel-lo..." cooed Bashir. "Look's like it's going to happen today." Odo only felt dizzy. The not-so-little presence inside him had developed a peculiar new gravity that pulled at his own Core - the border between himself and his own subspace pocket. "It's a good thing I'm already lying down..." he managed, off balance and clinging to the biobed as if it were an anchor. "Easy, my boy," soothed Alita. "Just pick a stable point and stare at it for a while." "There's a stable point?" The second-hand memories helped him to a degree, but they were off by one important point: this child was half- Bajoran. Disorientation and dizziness only lasted for the forming of the new Core, but in full Changelings, it happened in seconds. He could feel Nerys, up in Ops, sitting solidly on the deck and desperately trying to blink away second-hand symptoms. The crew tried to carry her to her office so she could rest, but she baulked at the doors and compromised by leaning on the railings and barking orders. He felt too heavy and weightless at the same time, while everything wavered and spun around him. Right about now, Odo reasoned, he'd give everything just to have the morning sickness back. "Ooooogh..." "It's trying to form a subspace pocket," Bashir noted, heading towards the replicator. "but it doesn't seem to have the energy." He appeared in Odo's field of vision with a canister. "Try some hundred-percent formula." Odo absorbed the thick liquid in seconds, the wavering toned itself down, and gravity returned. He felt bloated, yet craved humanoid food. "Could I have some Samatt?" "He's back," Alita grinned. "I know just the recipe. Old-style mountain one, with everything in it. The joke says you start with a whole Cherka, and they're not far wrong." "Cherka?" Asked Bashir. "It's like an Earth goat," supplied Odo, sitting up and finding out why that was a bad idea. His waistline had reduced somewhat, but not enough, according to the Founder's expectations. _Nerys, your genes have struck again._ _Don't tell me,_ managed Nerys, fighting off the worst of his unsteadiness. _They managed to slow down a quicker Changeling process._ _On top of that, I'm twice as hungry as I used to be._ Gramma Kiran, bless her Pagh, returned from the replicator with a steaming bowl full of Samatt. It was three times the size of a regular serving. Odo practically inhaled it, grateful for the unknown cook who'd thought up one dish with everything in it. It was around his third helping, that Nerys' baby started its usual callisthenics again. _*My* baby?_ Nerys' mind demanded. _Let me explain the 'Spiders and Blooms' to you..._ Next: Here comes the groom, fairly in bloom... Cath :) Am I mean enough yet? _______________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________________ Date: Tue, 8 Jun 1999 22:44:31 +1000 From: "Catherine Allan" (kenandcath@earthling.net) Subject: ODOGEN: Get Me to the Church on Time (2/2) Just a quick reminder, you can still enter for your very own virtual changeling by placing your bets on how/when/gender/whatever the kid arrives. Just send your wager straight to cath@bab5.cx no money down, and win your very own virtual changeling. Closest wager wins! And now, the moment you've been waiting for - the bit with the wedding in it. Odo was still dizzy and off kilter three days later, during the wedding. For once, Nerys was glad of the old traditions that let him have a guide to the altar. She was more subtly supported by Vedek Tonsa's left hand. Nerys looked at her soon-husband and smiled. She instantly envied the way he looked better in the traditional green, red and gold than she did. Odo echoed her thoughts, but felt she looked better than he did. He was gently steered the right way by the deceptive hand of Matriarch Kiran Alita. The crafty old woman made it look as if he were helping her instead of the other way around. _You look better than I do, Kiran Odo,_ Nerys told him. _Are you serious, Nerys? I feel like a parade balloon. Never liked crowds staring at me... never been afraid of heights before._ Something felt strange about him. Then Nerys realised - he was actually wearing the traditional clothes. They were, no doubt, helping to keep their infant in check. It worked well enough to stop disturbing the guests, but it didn't work well enough to stop disturbing Odo. _Relax, Ale'al,_ she mentally advised, _It'll be over soon, and we can go home to a nice five course feast._ He smiled as their hands joined in front of Vedek Tonsa. Nerys was always amazed that she was the part-time cure for whatever ailed her lover. Perhaps it was the Prophet's way of driving the message home. Tonsa began speaking. "May the Prophets guide your feet along the paths laid before you. May you always know each other is by your side. And may your lives forever grow together, in love for each other, your family, and the Prophets watch over you always." As if on queue, the wormhole opened, blooming in space as if to light up their wedding. Kiran Alita stepped forward, and ran grain over their joined hands, saying, "As it was in the past, and will be to come, let it be with you. I call on the Prophets to bless our family and clan with children; as many children as there are stars in the sky." Odo groaned under his breath. He was having enough trouble with just *one*. "May you bring them up in the ways of the Prophets. Let them bring light to your lives, hope for the future, and joy in your hearts." Tonsa took his turn. "Here, in this station, near the Temple of the Prophets, and before the eyes of these witnesses, do you Kiran Odo, wish to be wed to Kira Nerys, caring for her, taking her clan name, and living as the Prophets will?" "Yes." Odo stood as if to defy anyone to say otherwise. "Do you, Kira Nerys, accept Odo as your husband, and vow to care for him and live with him as the Prophets will?" "Yes." She, too, stood defiant. There had been too much standing in their way for anything else. There would be other obstacles, too, but they would surmount them as a couple. Matriarch Alita spoke up, glaring at the Kirantana representatives in the crowd. "I, Kiran Alita, eldest representative of the ancient Kir clan, declare this marriage legal under the eyes of the Prophets and everyone here. Let no one after me seek to disrupt them, or they shall be forever barred from the Celestial Temple." She clicked her can against the deck as if to declare 'I have spoken'. "You are now joined," declared Tonsa. "Husband and wife for the rest of your lives together. Go forth, and live in love and peace as the Prophets will." The entire Promenade, and no doubt the rest of the station as well as those watching on various subspace channels, erupted in cheering. It got so loud as to cancel itself out in white noise. Confetti, rice, streamers, ribbons; anything that could be thrown in well-wishing was thrown at them, soon burying the deck in drifts of debris. They still had to meet the most important guests, those lined up along the upper level of the Promenade. Odo subtly changed his earring to closely resemble hers than the Founder's symbol, and a tiny knife now dangled from his ear-chain, declaring his bond to her for all to see. "You look absolutely radiant," Lwaxana was telling Odo, "Motherhood suits you." "I feel like a parade balloon," replied Odo. "It'll pass," soothed Lwaxana above the noise, "as you get bigger, you'll start to feel like an unexploded bomb." "Where is your son, by the way?" Nerys asked. "Safely on Betazed," answered the ambassador, "I couldn't risk him being stolen, you know." They passed on to other ambassadors, captains, admirals and people so full of their own importance it was a wonder Lwaxana let them up there. Just as she'd once predicted, most of them managed to entertain Odo. It was her own, special wedding gift to the new couple. Nerys and Odo said goodbye to the last representative of whomever and left the Promenade via turbolift, and made it to their mutual quarters through another celebrating throng. _I never thought this station could get so *full*!_ _I think most of them sneaked in after the ceremony started,_ Odo noted, taking in a few guilty looks. _They all wanted to be part of history._ _I'll keep them away when our kid's born, Odo, I promise._ _There's no way we'll be able to keep them from the Naming ceremony._ Nerys opened their door and hustled her husband inside. "Don't start thinking about that. We have a wedding to consummate." "I'm hungry." "You're always hungry," Nerys sighed, and then saw what had been laid out for them. It was a feast. "Good thing Gramma Kiran thinks ahead." Odo, however, was halfway to the bedroom. "Odo, where are you going?" "Just making sure she didn't short-sheet the bed..." he told her, "I know her sense of humour." "But does she know we never get as far as using the sheets?" End. Next Story: Another 'big' thing happening :) Cath :) Last call for the O/K baby pool...