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Marie sits in Chris’ kitchen as she watches him cook. “You know, I don’t need a whole to-do.”
“Just relax,” he says from behind the stove. “Enjoy it.”
“I promise you, even Julia Child’s boeuf bourguignon itself will not make me forget that you sang about lying to me,” she says. “Why didn’t you just tell me you hate the idea of Crivo?”
Chris looks down at his Dutch oven. “I don’t…hate the idea,” he replies. Marie shoots him a knowing look. “Okay, yes, it sounded like my nightmare. I just pictured something…quieter. Camping somewhere.”
Marie comes around the counter and joins him in the kitchen. “Chris, this isn’t gonna work if you’re not more comfortable being honest with me. Even about-” Her body tenses and her eyes widen. “I’ll be right back.” She darts from the room.
“Marie?” Chris asks. Frowning, he turns off the stove and sets down his spoon, then follows her to the bathroom. He knocks on the closed door. “Marie, what’s wrong?”
“One minute,” she calls out from behind the bathroom door. Then Chris hears the sound of vomiting.
“I’m coming in.” He tries the door’s controls, but they’re locked. “Marie, please let me in.”
“I’m fine; just give me a second!” Marie shouts through the bathroom door.
“I’m calling M’Benga,” Chris starts to head across the room to his comms panel.
“Wait!” Chris stops and turns around as the toilet flushes. A moment later, Marie opens the door. “I don’t need Sickbay.”
“Why?” Chris asks. “Marie, what’s going on?”
Marie grimaces. “This wasn’t how I was planning on telling you, but…you’re not the only one who hasn’t been honest about everything.” She takes a deep breath and stares down at the floor. “I’m pregnant.”
Chris blinks. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Marie gestures to Chris’ living room. “Maybe we should take a seat.”
They sit side by side on the couch. Chris swallows hard and clasps his hands together. “I, um, I don’t know what to say,” he admits after a moment’s pause. “Are you okay? Is your CMO monitoring you?”
Marie nods. “Yes and yes,” she says. “She scanned me just before I beamed aboard Enterprise.”
Chris nods. “Okay. That’s - that’s good.” He looks down at his lap. “So…how do you feel about this?”
“I know the timing isn’t great. It would've been better in a few years, after we'd both been promoted,” Marie begins. She looks away. “And I know we never talked about having kids. But I - I think I want to have this baby.”
“Okay.” Chris takes Marie’s hand. “Then I'd like to have this baby with you."
Marie turns sharply to look at Chris. “Really?”
“Really.” Chris squeezes her hand.
“Are you sure?” Marie asks. “It could be hard.”
Chris shrugs. “It would be different,” he concedes. “There would be times when we couldn’t all be together, and we’d probably both have to give up some career opportunities to make things work. But it could work.” He clasps Marie’s hand between his own. “Maybe we could take postings on the same station.” Chris smiles as he imagines carrying a baby into Marie’s office, then sees himself teaching a bright-eyed preteen how to pilot a shuttle.
Marie flashes a small smile. “Or we could go back to Earth,” she suggests.
“That would be nice.” In his mind’s eye, Chris watches himself and Marie building a snowman with a chubby-cheeked toddler and riding through the desert on horseback with a smiling teenager. “We could focus on shorter missions so one of us could be home at all times.”
Marie’s smile widens. “You could even go back to the Academy. I know you liked teaching there and I heard Admiral Marcus saying they need more experienced officers leading cadet training cruises.”
And then the smile falls from Chris’ face as the bubble bursts. All Chris’ shiny, bright images of a happy family vanish. In its place, Chris sees Marie in a hospital room, surrounded by machines. He imagines the child hiding behind Marie to stare at his burned face, then pushing his disfigured body in a wheelchair.
Chris' stomach turns with disgust and he lets go of Marie's hand. Her face falls. “Chris?” she asks.
He shakes his head. He tries to speak but the words won't come out.
“Chris, what’s wrong? Talk to me."
"I'm sorry," he chokes out. He pushes himself off the couch and stumbles away. "This was a bad idea. I can't do this."