Wildman Design [Rated G] (Naomi/P/T)

Voy_Girl · **Tue Dec 31, 2002 12:35 pm Wildman Design [Rated G] (Naomi/P/T)**

Title: ”Wildman Design”

Author: Voy_Girl

Written: December 27, 2002 (c)

Code/s: Naomi & Samantha Wildman, EMH, P/T

Summary: Naomi wants to give B’Elanna and Tom a present for their coming baby. But she
doesn’t want to give them something that just anyone can find and replicate... This turns out to
become a problem for the young girl...
Set in late season 7.

AN: Got comments, feedback? Send them to frky_vg@kittymailcom

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Voy Girl’s ”Wildman Design”

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Naomi Wildman sighed as deep as only a very sad child can do. After giving the screen another
frustrated and fruitless look, - nothing new had appeared on it - she closed the database, rose
from the chair and went to find her mother, audible occupied in Naomi’s bedroom.

”Mummy,” Naomi couldn’t help but wine helplessly. ”I want to give Tom and B’Elanna
something special for the baby. And I can’t find something.”

Samantha looked up from the pile of washed clothes she folded to put in one of her daughter’s
drawers later.
”Roamed the entire database already?” She teased while studying yet another orange t-shirt
and placing it carefully on top of the rest.

”No, I don’t want to give them something replicated. I want them to look at that thing and
think about only me,” Naomi explained, a new little wrinkle forming between her eyebrows.

”Can’t you draw them something pretty then?” Samantha suggested and forced a drawer out.

”Put that in the second drawer instead,” Naomi instructed, stopped her mother’s actions. ”A
baby doesn’t get any joy from a paper.”

”Naomi,” Samantha shrugged and left the cloth on the bed, walked to her daughter in the
doorway and kneeled down to her level.
”You can’t let this turn into such a big dilemma for you right now. There’s plenty of time to
think before the baby is born. If you don’t want to replicate, nor draw something, I’m sure you
will come up with--” She stopped short and smiled as she saw her daughter’s eyes fill and glow
with exuberant ideas.
”What do you have in mind?”

”A compromise,” Naomi answered sweetly, smiled back at her mother and practically leapt to
a pile of paper, grabbed one and a red crayon and leapt out to the dining area again.

Well there her movements would flow over the paper, and the wax would dance. She would
create!

***

The next morning, after a night filled with disturbed, impatient sleep and ten glasses of water,
Naomi found herself in sick bay. Not at all tired, and definitely not sick, on the contrary happy
and expectant as a lark. ”Can I please have the parameters for Tom and B’Elanna’s child?”

She was in the Doctor’s wake as he walked to a console to download her request to a PADD.
”You can be sure you aren’t the first one to ask that. Soon I’ll transfer the specifications to a
banner or a big sign and put it outside the door. Most likely I’d have 70 percent less visitors
per day.”

Naomi giggled and took the PADD he held out, for her to take.

”Baby clothes on the way?” The Doctor winked.

”Something like that.” Whit those words, she bounced out into the hallway, eager to get to her
quarters and start giving the replicator orders.

***

”Someone left a present while you were gone,” B’Elanna Torres greeted her husband, waving
the enticing package in the air. She read the card attached out loud. ”From Naomi Wildman.”

”You better open it, now that I’m here,” Tom prompted and settled on the bed, next to
B’Elanna.

She stroked over the glazed pinkish wrapper with one hand before carefully removing the little
pieces of tape and unfolding the cover.

*

B’Elanna gasped as she lifted the little zip suit out of the wrinkled paper and held it up.

”The prettiest one so far,” Tom marked, reaching out to touch the soft velvet.

The suit was made solely for their growing daughter, that showed. It was the perfect size,
according to the Doctor’s readings. Light blue to the colour, though with a few remarkable
stains of lilac mixing in, which made it shimmer in the modest lighting.
Everything except the two think socks in the ends of the legs, and the hood in the other end
was covered with little figures.

During closer inspection, the couple realized that more than half of the pattern were beige
rabbits and bears. The remaining part had to represent shaggy, brownish targs.

B’Elanna smiled widely, as tears of joy crept into the sensitive corners of her eyes. None of the
other presents so far had respected their daughter’s Klingon heritage so obviously.

***

Later that night, Tom rested against a few pillows next to her already sleeping wife. He
enjoyed the feeling of the soft interior of the suit.
Stroking his fingers over the fabric once again, his unsuspecting fingers came across something
he’d missed the times before. A little patch, sewed on by the clumpsy hands of a child.
The text itself written by hand. Black ink on white cotton.

Tom took moved a little to the side to be able to see the text properly in the light of a lamp on
his night stand. ‘Naomi Wildman Design’, it said; properly and distinctive.
Tom smiled happily, and touched the cloth one last time that night. His daughter would always
have a peculiar memory of little sweet Naomi Wildman.