Is She Not Lovely?

Author's Note: Whelp...here's another one.

I've been feeling down lately and really needed a pick me up. I'm hoping it gives you the same.

*SPOILERS FOR THE COMPLICATION SERIES*

Proceed at your own risk! 

This is set at the start of The Choice shortly after The Best of Both Worlds and before Night Terrors. Once again, the name of our wee girl is not directly revealed. If you've been reading The Complication, you likely have an idea why. (It's a plot point in The Course We Set!)

-X-

Tasha Yar rolled to the side. She stretched her arm out under the covers and frowned. Edging closer to the side, she found Data's side of the bed empty.

Not only was it empty – it was cold, indicating he'd been gone for some time.

As her alertness increased, Tasha became aware that someone was crying.

Not crying.

Wailing.

Tasha sighed and rolled over onto her back.

She reached up and massaged her temples as she groaned internally.

The witching hour.

Tasha glanced over to the timepiece on her nightstand. They had almost made it eight hours.

It had been an agonising week. For the last nine days, Data and Tasha had watched with great concern as Tarsus fever had wrecked their girl's wee body.

Worst of all, there was nothing they could do but ride it out.

Tarsus fever was considered eradicated within the Federation. It had been almost seventy-five years since the last recorded case among Federation medical records.

In the late 2290s, vaccination efforts had nearly eliminated the virus. Children vaccinated passed on a genetic immunity to their offspring and so forth – providing generations of humans with the immunity necessary in order to avoid the nasty fever.

But such a vaccine had been developed decades after Turkana had become a failed colony. Her people had long since been abandoned and future generations did not carry the genetic immunity their human counterparts in Federation space did.

Tasha Yar had no genetic immunity to pass along to her daughter.

And the same DNA that had given their tiny, blonde Shinebug her powerful lungs had also lacked the genetic immunity.

By the time the vaccine had been developed, Noonian Soong had already been well past the age susceptible to Tarsus fever.

Gassy, red-faced, and covered in an uncomfortable rash, their girl had screamed until she was hoarse. It had been an exhausting cycle of topical ointments, nasal aspirators, warm bathes, and soothing words.

Massage, swaddle, rock, rinse, repeat.

Their Shinebug was unhappy. This meant she was cluster feeding. And that was making both mum and dad unhappy too.

It wasn't that Tasha minded – she'd do anything for her girl.

But the frequent, tiny feeding sessions were starting to take their toll. It left her feeling emotionally and physically drained.

It took ages for their daughter to settle. Once she did, it was typically a short feed. They spent so much time getting her calm and prepared, it felt like the end result wasn't worth it.