Summary: The 9^th installment in the “Raising Naomi” series. Command School gets to be too much for the Thompson-Torreses, and the ship hits the fan.  The history of Kieran’s pre-B’Elanna post P’arth love life is revealed. Naomi’s experiences on Restid Three change her life forever.  If you haven’t read “One, Two, Three Naomi’s” you won’t be able to follow this story, because it refers frequently to Naomi’s hallucinations in that story.

 

Rating: R for some strong language and a lot of explicit sexual situations of the female on female variety, not always human. (No, I don’t mean bestiality, I mean sometimes an alien or two might get some.) There’s a little heterosexual action too. There are potentially taboo topics depending on your frame of reference and your general worldview, I suppose.

 

Disclaimer:  Paramount owns ‘em all except the ones I make up.  I’ve been borrowing them so long, they feel like they’re mine though. Muahahaha.

 

WARNING: THERE ARE BIGTIME SPOILERS IN THIS STORY FOR THE BOOK “MOSAIC” BY Jeri Taylor.  If you haven’t  read it, this story will give away the whole danged plot of the book. 

 

 

BOUNDARIES

By Ensign Mika

 

(Part 1)

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres fanned toxic fumes from in front of her face, fingers feverishly flying over the controls of the Engineering workstation.   Alarm sirens screamed around her, alerting Engineering to the crisis at hand.  The floor was obscured by knee-deep green smoke, slick with coolant that shot from the conduits around the antimatter containment module.  The hiss was so loud, it almost drowned out the voice of the ship’s computer.  The air hung thick with a chemical fog that hindered her vision, even with the hazard lights trying to cut through the haze.

 

“KIERAN!” B’Elanna shouted over the alert sirens.  “You have to get out now!” she bellowed.

 

“Thirty seconds to warp core breach,” the Computer announced coolly.

 

Kieran stole a glance at her wife, Chief Engineer B’Elanna Thompson-Torres, who was working frantically at her own console.

 

“Damn it, Kieran,” B’Elanna shouted over the grating sound of the alarms, “I have to dump the core manually, and there’s no reason for both of us to die,” she pleaded with her spouse.  “Somebody has to raise Katie,” she added hopefully.

 

“Let me dump it,” Kieran insisted, heading for the controls.  “I’m not leaving you,” she shouted back.

 

B’Elanna snatched her arm, impeding her forward motion.  “I’m the expert, here, Captain,” she argued.  “If anything goes wrong, the whole ship will blow.  Now get your ass out of here,” she spun the taller woman around and shoved her toward the exit.  “Seal the doors behind you,” she barked.

 

“Twenty seconds to warp core breach,” the Computer stated for the record.  “Coolant leak in Antimatter reaction chamber number two,” came the new warning.

 

“All right,” Kieran relented, though her feet felt leaden.  “I love you, Benal,” she called over her shoulder as she sprinted for the heavy duranium egress. 

 

B’Elanna looked up momentarily.  “And I love you,” she assured her miserable partner.  “Run.”

 

“Ten seconds to warp core breach.  Nine…eight…”

 

Kieran felt the solid metal close behind her, and she punched in the code to seal the room off.  “Computer, maximum containment field around Engineering,” she murmured, knowing full well that B’Elanna would succumb to the gases in moments. “Execute hazardous waste decontamination protocol as soon as the warp core is ejected,” she leaned her head against the sealed entrance, gasping for breath. “Erect force fields around any leaking conduits.”

 

“Main Engineering is sealed off via auxiliary power force fields. Main power is offline.  Interior force fields cannot be established.” 

 

“Then cut all supply lines to Engineering, damn it.  Stop those leaks,” she demanded impatiently.

 

She felt the ship shudder as the warp core was ejected.  “Computer,” she queried hoarsely, “life signs in Engineering?”

 

“There are no life signs detected,” the ship reported back to her.

 

Kieran’s head snapped up in response.  The decontamination cycle completed in a matter of seconds, and she wearily reentered the Engineering section to retrieve the body of her wife.

 

______________________

 

Captain Kathryn Janeway of the starship Voyager entered the holodeck as the corridor outside Engineering shimmered and resolved into onyx black walls patterned by the cheerful yellow checkerboard superimposed upon them.   Janeway smiled reassurance at the shaken command candidate, her auburn hair brushing the shoulders of her Captain’s uniform.

 

“Nicely done, Commander,” she emphasized Kieran’s new rank, resting a hand on the taller woman’s shoulder.

 

“But--” Kieran began to protest, “B’Elanna died, Captain.  Surely I failed the exam,” she gazed pitifully at her commanding officer and best friend, deep brown eyes haunted by the simulated death of her spouse.

 

“Let’s head to my ready room,” Kathryn invited kindly.  “We can talk about the exam there,” she marshaled her Ship’s Counselor out of the holodeck and to the turbo lift, each keeping her own counsel for the moment.

 

Once inside her ready room, she replicated a decanter of whiskey, handed a shot to Kieran, then poured another for herself.  “There was no other choice, Kato,” she assured the command candidate.  “It’s the only way to obtain the proper outcome,” she explained, joining the distraught younger woman on the sofa.  She squeezed Kieran’s shoulder sympathetically.  “To fallen comrades,” she lifted her shot glass in salute.

 

Kieran returned the gesture.  “Fallen comrades,” she echoed, swallowing the amber balm.  She felt it burn all the way down, mildly surprised she could feel anything at all but numbness.  “Are you sure there was no other solution?  I just got my wife killed,” she berated herself.

 

Kathryn shook her head.  “I failed the bridge officer’s exam three times, before I would admit that the only way to beat the scenario is to sacrifice a member of the crew.  The program doesn’t take into account that the sacrificial lamb just happened, in this simulation, to be your wife.  I know you’re shaken, but you made the right choice,” she insisted, pouring two more shots.

 

Kieran threw hers back and waited for the calming effect to hit her.  “What would have happened if I had stayed behind to eject the warp core?” she had to know.

 

Kathryn smiled.  “You would have lost the ship.  The simulation is set up so that if you sacrifice yourself, something goes wrong so that the warp core doesn’t eject, and you don’t have the expertise to figure out the problem before the ship implodes,” she inclined her head.  “You knew B’Elanna’s hologram was right about her having the expertise.  That’s why you made the right choice the first time.”

 

Kathryn’s console beeped on the lower level of the ready room. “There’s your test score.  Stay put.”  She set her shot glass aside and lightly descended the stairs.  She tapped in a few commands, whistling with appreciation.  “Damn, Kato.  You aren’t going to believe this,” she announced, calling up to the lanky Ship’s Counselor.

 

Kieran groaned.  “Don’t tell me I failed anyway,” she hung her head, letting her chin strike her chest.

 

“No.  But you outscored every officer I’ve ever tested, and you outscored me,” Janeway grinned with satisfaction.  “You got a 98.  You lost two points for cutting the time so close at the end,” she chuckled.  “Congratulations, ‘COMMANDER’,” she added.  “Let me replicate your new pip.”  She trotted back up the steps and entered the commands into the replicator.  “So, how shall we address you now?”

 

Kieran gave her an enigmatic look.  “Excuse me?”

 

“Do you prefer to be addressed as ‘Counselor’ or as ‘Commander’?  It’s your choice,” Kathryn crossed her arms, awaiting the answer.

 

Kieran finally exhaled the breath she had been holding, as if the toxic fumes had been real, and she smiled faintly.  “I feel too guilty about getting B’Elanna’s hologram killed to glory in the promotion,” she said ruefully.  “Let’s leave it ‘Counselor’, for now.  Once I’m a full Commander, and your first officer, you can call me that,” she decided.

 

“All right,” Kathryn agreed.  She changed her demeanor in a split second.  “Attention!” she ordered, enjoying the sight of the six-foot-plus Counselor trying to come to attention with a burst of energy.  She hid her amusement over the fact that Kieran nearly got her long legs tangled as she shot up from the couch.  As the command candidate tried to look dignified despite her fumbling and the alcohol, the Captain reached for her collar.  She pulled aside the Lieutenant’s braided chestnut colored hair, draping it down her back so she could affix the additional rank insignia to her collar.

 

“Lieutenant Kieran Thompson-Torres,” she stated formally, “I hereby promote you to the rank of Lieutenant Commander, with all the attendant duties and responsibilities engendered by that rank,” she recited as she fastened the gleaming pip onto Kieran’s collar.  She was supposed to shake Kieran’s hand then, but instead she stood on her tiptoes and kissed her cheek.  “Congratulations, Commander.  You’ve earned it,” she added sentimentally.

 

“Thank you, Captain,” Kieran smiled and hugged her Commanding Officer. 

 

Kathryn studied the taller woman for a long moment.  “You will be my first officer, someday,” she promised.  Then grinning facetiously, she added “I have claimed you,” mimicking the Klingon vernacular.

 

Kieran relaxed slightly.  “As long as you’re not going to sink your teeth into my throat,” she teased back.

 

“No danger of that,” Kathryn assured her.  “B’Elanna would have to break out the pain sticks.”  Kathryn studied her a bit longer.  She knew the younger woman’s moods well, and she knew Kieran was taking the death of B’Elanna’s hologram harder than she should.   Kathryn tugged Kieran back down to the couch.  She considered her words carefully, sighing.  “You know, Kato, I hate to break my track record.  But I think I’m going to have to,” she began.

 

“Track record?” Kieran asked absently, still pondering the simulation.

 

“You’re always bitching that I’ve never availed myself of your services as Ship’s Counselor.  I think, maybe, it’s time I did,” she replied.

 

Kieran’s curiosity was piqued.  “What’s on your mind?”

 

Kathryn smiled.  “Actually, it’s about what’s on your mind.  Sacrificing your crew in a simulation is one thing.  It’s hard enough, even knowing you’re dealing with holograms.  But actually losing people--making decisions that result in death--that’s something you never really get used to, however necessary it might be.”

 

“Have you ever had to sacrifice someone?” Kieran queried, gauging Kathryn’s reaction.

 

“By the time you’ve been in command as long as I have, you’ve usually sent several people to their death.  Sam Wildman hangs on my conscience.  But my history before Voyager was even darker,” she admitted.  She reached for Kieran’s empty shot glass, procured the bottle of whiskey, again poured two shots, and handed one to Kieran.  “I didn’t even remember this until a few years ago,” she recalled, letting the liquid warm her innards.  She screwed up her face, trying to access the painful memory, careful to tell the tale accurately.  “I was with my father, and with my fiancée, Justin Tighe.  Daddy had been working on a new class of ship, something to throw at the Cardassians in case we ended up at war with them.  The prototype ship, the Terra Nova, was in the final phases of testing,” she warmed to her subject, though every memory cost her.

 

“We had taken the Terra Nova out on maneuvers at Tau Ceti.  Are you familiar with Tau Ceti?” Kathryn looked far away.

 

“Vaguely,” Kieran answered.  “It’s a lot like Antarctica, isn’t it?”

 

“Worse,” Kathryn affirmed.  “Nothing but ice and snow and glaciers.  A wasteland of cold,” she shuddered, thinking of that fateful day.  “We had put the Terra Nova through her paces, and she had performed like a champion,” she related with genuine pride for her father’s ship design.  “A storm kicked up, and we were just about to wrap for the day.  It had been such a wonderful day--the whole trip, in fact.  Daddy and Justin seemed to really connect with each other, you know?” she murmured, thinking about how special that had been for her.  “My two favorite men in the world--my father and my husband to be, and somehow, there I was, lucky enough to be loved by them both.”  She threw back the shot of whiskey then, letting it sear her throat.

 

“Anyway, Daddy decided to call it a day, and the next thing I know, I’m free falling in freezing air, trying to figure out where the ship went.  I don’t remember the explosion.  I don’t remember landing--just coming to, to find I was lying in a snow bank, breathing ice crystals.  I forced my way up from the snow bank, disoriented, injured, and bewildered by the fact that  I was gazing into a frozen ocean at a steaming iceberg, almost completely submerged beneath the ice and sea.  Only it wasn’t an iceberg.  It was the crew cabin and most of the fuselage of the Terra Nova, sinking into the Tau Ceti Ocean,” she related, her steel gray eyes darkening at the painful image.

 

“Daddy and Justin were inside. I could see them, could tell that they were both alive.  The controls were right there with me, but damaged and failing.  I had to choose.  I could transport one out of the wreckage.  Not both,” she fixed her eyes on her glass. “I couldn’t decide.  Instead, I tried to figure out a way to save them both.  While I was trying to jimmy the controls, or what was left of them, the ship sank,” she drew a ragged breath.  “They both died.” 

 

Kieran was speechless.  She had known that Justin Tighe and Edward Janeway had died in a crash, and that Kathryn had survived.  But the Starfleet database didn’t have the actual details about what happened after the crash.  She reached for Kathryn’s hand, hoping to ease the wretched expression that had settled in the Captain’s features.  “I’m sure you did your best,” she offered.  “My God, Kat, that must have been unbearable.”

 

“Yes,” Kathryn agreed.  “It was so unbearable that for years, I didn’t even realize what had happened.   I remembered only that there was an iceberg, jutting out of the sea, and that somehow, Daddy and Justin died.  I didn’t remember it accurately, if that makes sense. ”

 

“It does,” Kieran assured her.  “Screen memories are common in trauma cases.  Your brain substitutes a memory that’s more palatable than the reality of what happened.  Is that what you mean?”

 

“Exactly,” she nodded.  She paused to catch her breath, a slow, contemplative sound of resignation.  “I remembered an iceberg, not the ship.  It wasn’t until we got lost in the Delta Quadrant that the actual memory came back.  All those years, I just remembered an iceberg surrounded by water, jutting out of the frozen ocean.  I knew Daddy and Justin died, but I didn’t remember that it was my fault.”  Kathryn poured yet another shot, swallowing it down.  “I’ve relived that moment a thousand times, since the memory came back, and I still can’t decide who to spare,” she admitted miserably.  “I was so stubborn, so convinced I could find the solution that would save the day.  Instead of saving one, I let both die.  My failure to reason through in a crisis cost my mother her husband, and my sister and I our father.  My father was an admiral, Kato.  Starfleet needed him.  He was doing important things for the Federation, things that might have averted the Dominion War altogether.  And my lapse in rationality cost him his life.  I know now, as much as I loved Justin, I should have saved my father.  But in simulations since then, I can’t make myself choose.  I couldn’t bear to lose either of them.  So I lost both.”  Kathryn sighed, turning the shot glass in her hand.  “That is why it is critical for Command personnel to be able to put aside their personal agendas, and make the right decision for the good of the many.  I hope you never have to learn that the hard way, as I did,” Kathryn explained, her voice faltering with emotion.  “When we get home, I have to tell my mother what really happened.  She doesn’t know it was my fault,” the Captain reiterated.

 

The two women sat in silence, Kieran still grasping Kathryn’s hand.  Finally, Kieran cleared her throat.  “I’m sorry, Kat.  But I’m even more sorry you’ve been carrying that around for all these years.  I’m glad you told me,” she said gently, squeezing Kathryn’s fingers in her own.

 

Kathryn wiped impatiently at her eyes.  “It felt good to finally tell someone,” she admitted.  “But I didn’t do it to unburden myself, Kato.  I did it so you could learn from it.  And so you’d feel better about today.  Command is not easy, and it’s not for everyone.  I’ve managed to almost forgive myself, because I was so young and green when the accident happened.  And because I’ve run the simulation on the holodeck so many times I could attempt the rescue in my sleep, and no matter what I do differently, the outcome is the same.  I can only save one.”  Her pale pink lips curled faintly at the edges.  “Now that would make one hell of a bridge officer’s exam,” she tried for some levity.

 

Kieran was taken aback by the thought of Kathryn punishing herself with that horrid scenario on the holodeck.  But she understood  Kathryn’s need to know if there was a better way to handle the crisis.  She herself had a tendency to run her command simulations even after she passed them, just to improve her score.  It was no wonder Kathryn could envision Kieran as a Captain, the two women were so alike in that regard.  Kieran drew the smaller woman closer to her, arm firmly around the slight shoulders.  “I love you, Kathryn,” she said softly.  “We both must learn to forgive ourselves for our mistakes,” she noted correctly.

 

Kathryn leaned her head against Kieran’s shoulder, remembering her father.  “I love you too,” she murmured.  “I wish you could have known my father,” she added.  “I wish he could have met Seven, and known our children.  I miss him every day of my life,” she admitted sadly. 

 

They sat together a long while, neither speaking.  Kathryn drew strength from the Counselor, whose calm acceptance of her Captain, despite the admission of failure, surrounded the older woman like a blanket.  Kathryn realized, in that moment, that her command façade was unnecessary with Kieran, just as it was with Seven.  She hugged her friend, then, and advised her  “You should go see B’Elanna.  It will make you feel better, I promise.  She never has to know you had to make a command decision that resulted in her death.  In fact, you are not allowed to discuss the content of the exam, not even with her.  It is very similar for all bridge officers, and it is classified.  Understood?”

 

Kieran nodded.  “Yes, Ma’am,” she affirmed.

 

“Both of you take the rest of the day,” Kathryn amended, seeing just how pale Kieran really looked.  “Get something to eat.  And don’t let B’Elanna give you any crap--you outrank her now,” she smarted.

 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Kieran winked at her friend.  “In fact, I think I might just exercise some of my command prerogative,” she waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

 

“You would, too,” Kathryn accused, regaining her composure.  “Now get out of my ready room.  I have reports to do.”

 

Kieran nodded, heading for the exit.  As she stepped onto the bridge, the bridge crew turned expectantly, eyes scanning her collar for any change in rank.  Voyager was a small ship, and everyone knew the daily comings and goings of the officers.  There had been a collective holding of breath all morning, while Kieran tested. Chakotay grinned broadly and began a slow, sincere round of applause as he spotted the additional pip on Kieran’s collar.  B’Elanna was waiting there, too, as was Seven of Nine, Tuvok, Neelix, Harry Kim, Tom Paris, Icheb, and Naomi Wildman.  Kieran was quickly engulfed in congratulatory hugs, and it took a good deal of effort on her part not to get choked up. 

 

“You wear them well, Commander,” Chakotay nodded, indicating her gleaming new pips.  He clapped her on the shoulder.

 

“I had a good instructor, Sir,” she acknowledged his mentoring.  “Thank you all,” she inclined her head to include everyone around her.

 

She noticed the wistful look of envy in Harry Kim’s eyes.  Harry had been a command trainee himself, until an encounter with an alien growth on Restid Three had left him emotionally unstable and unable to continue his studies.  Kieran put an arm firmly around his shoulders, squeezing them fondly.  “Your day will come, Harry,” she murmured quietly, so that only he could hear.  “Keep working with me, bud, and I promise, you’ll be next,” she referred to her twice-weekly counseling sessions with the malleable ensign.

 

Harry only nodded, eyes haunted and hollow.  “If you say so, KT.”

 

“I say so.  And since I outrank you, Lieutenant, I should know,” she teased him.

 

He managed a feeble smile. 

 

B’Elanna Thompson-Torres, a compact, rugged woman with dark eyes and dark hair, slipped her arm through Kieran’s.  “Congratulations, Benal,” she smiled up at her partner, whom she referred to in her native Klingon language as “honored wife”.

 

Kieran squeezed the arm intimately linked with her own.  “Thanks.  Kathryn said I’m supposed to take you to dinner now,” she added.  “The spoils of higher rank,” she chuckled happily.  “How about some Leola root stew?”

 

B’Elanna shrugged.  “If that’s the best thing on the menu, I guess it’ll do,” she agreed.

 

Neelix cast a wounded expression in B’Elanna’s direction.  “Thanks a lot,” he said with an injured tone.

 

Kieran put an arm around his shoulders.  “Now Neelix, you know we love your cooking,” she lied through her teeth.  “B’Elanna just means that a little more variety would be nice, if we could afford such a luxury.”

 

Neelix smiled up at the Counselor.  “Well, thank you for saying so, KT.  Sometimes I think you’d all just as soon eat ration packs,” he groused.  “Let’s go see what we can scare up for a celebration,” he offered, leading the way to the turbo lift.

__________________

 

“I can’t believe the Captain actually gave you the night off,” B'Elanna Thompson-Torres smiled winningly at her wife, sliding her hands over Kieran’s chest and shoulders.

 

Kieran had been in command training for what seemed to both women to be an eternity, studying and pulling double shifts to log time on the bridge, rarely taking any time for her wife and her daughter beyond the absolute minimum.  It had become a subject of some contention in their marriage over the lengthy tenure of Kieran’s schooling.

 

Kieran kissed her gently, caressing her cheek.  “BangwIj,” she murmured, another Klingon term of endearment, “how long has it been?”

 

“Too damned long,” B'Elanna complained.  “So long I don’t remember the last time we—”

 

Kieran chuckled.  “So long you can’t even say it anymore?” she teased, biting B'Elanna’s throat suggestively.

 

The Klingon was not in a humorous frame of mind, her deprivation insistent upon her in an instant as Kieran tugged open her uniform closure and touched the raised scar at the base of her throat.  It was a mating scar that Kieran had placed there, to signify their blood bond, their marriage, and the territorial rights of a warrior to their spouse’s body.  Beside the first scar was the second, not customary, but exchanged between the two women after a particularly difficult time in their relationship necessitated a reclaiming of one another.  Kieran wondered if B'Elanna needed a third, given the distance that had grown between them.  Before she could seriously consider it, B'Elanna tore open the front of her uniform, baring Kieran’s skin.

 

“You are mine,” she growled, as if Kieran might have forgotten, despite the angry purple scars on her own throat.

 

Without meaning it to, B'Elanna’s aggression, born of neglect, inflicted a jagged scratch across Kieran’s chest, and it seeped with blood.  The scent of it filled B'Elanna’s nostrils, inciting greater need and deeper aggression.  She pressed her lips to the wound, tasting the sharp sweetness of her wife’s lifeforce on her tongue, and the Klingon was overcome by bloodlust. 

 

Kieran swallowed her fear, though B'Elanna’s hands were powerful and potentially dangerous, surrendering herself to her wife, who tore clothing away in a frenzy.  Somehow, they made it to the bedroom, and by then, Kieran’s uniform was in tatters.  B'Elanna shoved her onto the mattress, removing her own clothing, dark eyes glittering with feral intent.  Kieran had rarely seen B'Elanna so out of her mind, and her heart thundered in her chest, not trusting her wife to be as careful as she needed to be.

 

B'Elanna moved over her, pointed teeth glistening in the reflected light from the nightstand, her body language determined as she crawled up the Counselor’s long frame.  Kieran thought of a stalking cat, ready to pounce on its prey, and she sank into the pillows, fighting the sense of apprehension gnawing at her.  She reached for her wife, knowing that foreplay would be unwelcome in the state B'Elanna was in.  Her fingers entered B'Elanna roughly, which was precisely what was required to prevent injury to herself.

 

B'Elanna cried out, a guttural sound that shook the walls around them, and sank her teeth into Kieran’s shoulder, drawing fresh blood.  Kieran winced in pain, gasping from the rending of her skin, trying to breathe into the stinging sensation, to absorb it, as she had so often with this woman, but B'Elanna’s demeanor was too violent, and it made Kieran remember another lover who had abused her.  She bit her lip, fighting tears, but began to cry in spite of herself.  She knew B'Elanna was too far gone to realize she was being brutal, in the throes of bloodlust and helpless to stop herself.

 

Kieran was convinced this was her penance for making B'Elanna go so long without sexual attention, and she knew if she could only endure the fierceness of the need, the tenderness would follow.  But she wasn’t certain her body could take this much, not this time, not with B'Elanna half-crazed.  She thrust her fingers deeper, ignoring the discomfort in her shoulder, blinking away the tears, forcing away the memory of her other Klingon lover, the one who had broken bones and dislocated joints, the one who had terrified her so much she had to hide in Kate Pulaski’s house for three days after a particularly bad incident.

 

B'Elanna’s focus was on her own pleasure at the moment, and Kieran wanted it that way.  She moved beneath her wife, drawing the Klingon’s sturdy legs over her face, entering her in both openings and taking B'Elanna’s sex into her mouth.  The frantic motion drove the Klingon to the edge, and just as she was about to find her gratification, the comm system chirped, and an emergency hail summoned B'Elanna to Engineering. 

 

Reason and frustration warred momentarily in her brain, the battle raging between the lust of her body and the rationality that told her there would be no fulfillment this night.  She let out a blood-curdling wail of utter agony, disengaging from Kieran’s fingers and mouth, heading for the shower.  A thirty second pulse of sonic waves removed the fluids, though none of the pent-up anguish.

 

She found a clean uniform, tugging it on in haste, casting a glance at her wife, who was too frightened to say anything.

 

“Kieran,” she said matter-of-factly, “I’ll try to get this crisis taken care of and come back, but I can’t guarantee anything.  You’re bleeding pretty badly—did I hurt you?” she asked regretfully.

 

“No, Lanna, it’s okay.  I’ll take care of it,” she promised, not meeting her wife’s eyes.  “Go ahead.  I’ll wait up for you.”

 

“I’ll be more careful, when I come back, honey.  I’m sorry.  It’s just that—”

 

“I know, Benal, I’ve been gone too much, and you need more,” Kieran filled in the void.

 

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, noticing for the first time that Kieran had been crying.

 

“Fine, really,” she reassured her spouse.  “Hurry home.”

 

“Okay, then,” B'Elanna reluctantly left Kieran lying there, shrouded in blankets, blood, and what remained of her uniform.

 

The crisis kept B'Elanna until well into Gamma shift, and Kieran was mended and sound asleep with baby Katie lying beside her in bed when B'Elanna returned.  Katie had been fussy of late, and not sleeping well.  B'Elanna opted for the couch, rather than disturb the baby and disrupt what little time remained for her own sleep.

 

__________________

 

Noah Lessing finished his shift in the science lab, stretched the disuse from his limbs, and yawned silently.  He was trying hard to keep his mind focused on his duties.  His recent promotion to Ensign should have been enough to keep him plugging away, but lately, he’d had other things on his mind.  He was grateful to have made it through another day without making any errors.  He hoped his section head hadn’t noticed his recent distractibility.

 

When he was transferred by Captain Janeway from the Equinox to Voyager, he had been stripped of rank; not that he had much rank left to be stripped of, having already been busted from Ensign to Crewman while he was on the Equinox.  And in actuality,  he was not so much transferred to Voyager as he was taken prisoner, after his Captain, John Ransom, had been exposed for committing unspeakable crimes against a sentient species called the Ankari.  The Equinox crew had been using the poor aliens for fuel in a futile attempt to get back to the Alpha Quadrant.  When Janeway discovered what they had been up to, she put an immediate stop to it.

 

Noah had known at the time what they were doing to the Ankari was wrong, but he had also been in no position to argue with John Ransom.  At least, that’s what Ransom told him when he took Noah’s Ensign’s pip and reduced him to Crewman.  Noah had been thousands of light years from home, on his very first starship, low man on the totem pole, and fearful of being thrown in the brig in disgrace if he questioned his superiors any further.  He had been close to only one crewmate, Marla Gilmore, and she had allayed his fears about the methods of the Equinox crew.  Eventually, the ends seemed to justify the means.  It was an easy fiction to live with, especially since all the senior officers on the Equinox had no apparent qualms about their actions.  Complicity breeds loyalty among conspirators, and Noah had been fiercely loyal to his crew and Captain.

 

Voyager’s intervention had burned him, partly because he felt Janeway had no right to judge the Equinox crew.  After all, though both Equinox and Voyager were in a similar predicament, Voyager, an Intrepid class vessel, was a luxury cruise compared to the Spartan facilities of the Equinox.  Easy to condemn Ransom’s people, while Janeway sat in the comfort of her ship with its top-of-the-line replicators, holodecks, and advanced weaponry. 

 

It didn’t help that in Noah’s first real encounter with Kathryn Janeway, she had threatened to let the Ankari kill Noah if he withheld information from her.  Being used as Ankari bait  was the low point of his young life.  When Voyager absorbed the remaining Equinox crew, Noah was relieved on many levels, but he detested Kathryn Janeway.  She had no right to the moral high ground, in Noah’s book, considering she would have killed him in cold blood for a little tactical information. 

 

His shame and his anger lost their edge over his first few months on Voyager, and he rarely had to see the Captain, so he could forget how inhumanely he had been treated.  He began to trust that he wouldn’t starve to death, or want for respectable medical attention.  He fell into a comforting routine in his duties.  Still, his attitude might have stayed sour, like Marla Gilmore’s, had he not become friends with Kieran Thompson. 

 

Kieran, who was the Ship’s Counselor, got to know him primarily through the intramural basketball league.   Kieran was putting together the first two teams, and had noticed Noah in the gym, strutting around in his workout clothes, all muscle and upper body strength.  She watched him for a week before she asked him to come over and work out with her.

 

Noah, like all the crewmembers from the Equinox, was stigmatized for his part in the crimes of the Equinox crew, and most of Voyager’s crew shunned him.  Not Kieran.  The Counselor reached out to Noah Lessing in a way no one else ever had.  She didn’t judge him, didn’t question him about his past, and didn’t treat him any differently than she treated any other crewmember.  Kieran took a personal interest in his adjustment to life aboard Voyager.  She refused to let the young man sink into self-loathing, and she refused to let the Captain overlook his potential.

 

It was inexplicable, in Noah’s mind, that Kieran could be Captain Kathryn Janeway’s best friend, but there it was.  The longer Noah knew Kieran, the more attached he became to the happy-go-lucky Counselor with the quick wit and the accepting smile.  It was inevitable that he came to question his hatred for Kathryn Janeway.  He figured if Kieran loved the Captain, there must be some redeeming quality to the woman. 

 

Kieran dared to put the Captain and Noah into social situations with each other.  Kieran knew that with familiarity, the two would learn to respect one another.  Kathryn Janeway actually discovered she liked Noah very much.  Of course, it didn’t hurt that Noah had been with Kieran the night Naomi Wildman, Captain Janeway’s adopted daughter, was located on Grailen, after Naomi had run away from the ship.  And it facilitated the cause when Kieran made a point of telling Kathryn that it had been Noah’s tip that brought them to the arcade on Grailen, where Kieran and Noah had located some children that recognized Naomi.  That had been the break the search team had needed, and Kieran made certain that Kathryn Janeway found out who had made that break possible.

 

Naomi took a shine to Noah after that, too, partly because Kieran loved him, and partly because he was always so kind to her.  Her love for the handsome, strapping man had the effect of making Kathryn soften toward him.  Seven of Nine, Captain Janeway’s spouse, had also liked Noah right away, from the moment she found him buried in the rubble aboard the Equinox.  Having previously been a Borg drone, Seven was in a unique position to understand Noah’s predicament aboard the Equinox, more or less forced to do whatever the collective determined.  She knew how it felt to be held in contempt by her peers aboard Voyager, and she sympathized with the plight of overcoming a questionable history.  Seven expressed her kindred connection with Noah to her wife on many occasions.  The Captain had, quite simply, been outnumbered.  Her wife, her daughter, and her best friend adored Noah Lessing.  She finally decided to trust their judgment.

 

Noah rubbed his eyes sleepily.  Kieran’s advocacy had helped him earn his own redemption.  He touched the pip at his collar, smiling faintly.  She had believed in him, and so he had learned to believe in himself.   He grinned, thinking about how Kieran had wormed her way into his confidence, how she manipulated him in subtle, positive, gentle ways until he trusted her enough to discuss his past.  The guilt he carried was crushing in its magnitude, and Kieran peeled it away, layer by layer, as if it were nothing more significant than an onion that had a few bad spots.  She built him up, bolstered his self-image, and took him into her own confidence, a responsibility that he took very seriously.  Kieran didn’t open up her personal self to just anyone; in fact, because she was Ship’s Counselor, she shared almost nothing of herself with most of her crewmates.  Noah accepted every personal revelation from the pretty, doe-eyed Counselor as if it were a treasure beyond compare, and valued it for the rare thing that it truly was.  Kieran trusted him implicitly with her private thoughts, and he never betrayed that confidence.

 

His burgeoning self-confidence was what allowed him to pursue Rachel McVicker in the first place.  In spite of his initial misgivings that the raven-haired astrometrics officer might not be willing to give him the time of day, he worked up the courage to approach her.  Of course, Kieran had introduced him to Rachel as part of her campaign to develop a basketball league.  She saw the spark between them, and although she denied it to his face, Noah was certain his friend had maneuvered them into situations where they would have to interact.  Noah wanted Rachel from the first time they met.  Kieran convinced him that Rachel wasn’t necessarily out of his league.

 

Miraculously, Rachel had looked beyond his past and had seen inside the man.  She liked what she saw.  Perhaps, he mused, it was because Rachel had also known the distinction of sitting at the top of Kathryn Janeway’s shit list that she decided to overlook his disgrace.  Or maybe it was because Seven, with whom Rachel was decidedly smitten, had accepted Noah.  Noah was fairly certain having Kieran for a friend won him points with Rachel, as well.  For whatever reason, Rachel had let him into her life, and they had become lovers.  She had filled his heart amply with passion and contentment and love.  And that was the source of his current distractibility and his misery.

 

His face fell as he thought about her, her piercing green eyes and dark hair, her perfect body, her lithe grace, her lilting laugh.  He was hopelessly in love with her.  And she was slipping away from him, like so much mercury against his fingertips, with nothing he could do to stop it from happening.  He wished he could take comfort in his promotion.  He wanted to find solace in knowing he had friends now.  But today, everything rang hollow.  Rachel had decided she was moving out of their shared quarters.  He would go home to find empty hangers and missing pictures, more closet space than he needed, a solitary bed.  He forced himself out of the lab and toward his quarters, toying with the idea of going to Sandrine’s, instead.

 

“Hey, bud,” Kieran slapped his muscular back as she slipped up beside him.  “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she tried to sound cheerful, but seeing his face, realized he was probably beyond cheering up.  “I thought you might like to come to my place for dinner.  Can’t beat a home cooked meal, can you, bud?”

 

Noah forced a smile.  “You’re something else, KT,” he shook his head, realizing she had made a concerted effort to run into him accidentally-on-purpose.  “I appreciate the offer.  But sooner or later, I’ve gotta go home.  And that means facing that she left.”

 

Kieran nodded.  “Okay.  Then let’s both go to your place.  I’ve got a couple of replicator rations for beer.  We can have a drink and you can get used to the feel of your quarters gradually.  You don’t have to do this alone, Noah.”

 

He started to decline, but thought better of it.  “Okay.  Thanks, KT.  I’d like it if you’d come with me.  Only you can’t rag me if I get broken up.  Promise?”

 

Kieran took his hand.  “I love you, bud.  I’d never do that to you,” she scolded him for even suggesting it.

 

He squeezed her fingers in his own.  “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t,” he tried to control the tremor in his voice.  “Damn, why’d she have to do this?”

 

Kieran slipped her arm around him, giving him a hug.  “You know why,” she said gently.  “She had to start being honest about what she wants.  She was wasting your time.  You knew it, she knew it, and somebody had to do something about it,” she replied honestly.

 

“Yeah,” he admitted.  “Doesn’t make it easier though,” he growled, wrapping his arm around Kieran’s shoulders.

 

“I know.  It’ll be a long time before it gets easy.  But I promise, eventually, it will. And hey, you know where I am.  I mean it, bud.  Anytime.  Okay?”  she hugged him again.

 

He smiled in spite of himself.  “Yeah.  Thanks,” he exhaled gruffly, trying to keep an edge of control.  He stopped in front of his door, hesitant to open it.  He took a deep breath and keyed in the code.

 

Rachel had been considerate enough to remove the remnants of wall fasteners and to rearrange the curio shelf where photos once were testimonials of their relationship.  For all intents and purposes, the quarters looked normal to an uninformed observer.  Kieran noted all the changes with a keen eye, cleared her throat, and went to the replicator.  “Dark or light?” she asked softly.

 

“Dark,” he replied, glancing around.  “She even cleaned up,” he mentioned absently.  “Hey, I’m gonna get out of uniform.  You want a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt?”

 

Kieran grinned at him.  “I think you’re the first guy that ever asked me if I wanted to ‘slip into something more comfortable’, bud,” she quipped.  Then seeing his unamused expression, she nodded.  “That’d be great.  I bet you’re the only person on the ship whose clothes I can wear, too.”

 

He went into his bedroom, but called back over his shoulder, “No, Seven and you could trade clothes.”

 

As soon as he was out of earshot, Kieran slapped her comm badge.  “Counselor to B'Elanna Torres,” she hailed quietly.

 

“Hi honey,” B'Elanna came back hopefully.  “Did you convince him to come to dinner?”

 

“No.  I’m sorry, Lanna.  I’m going to stay here for as long as he needs me to.  No telling how long, so don’t wait up for me, okay?”

 

“Okay, Benal,” B’Elanna tried to mask the irritation in her voice.  It seemed to the dark haired Klingon that her wife had time for everyone’s problems, but little time for their marriage.  She supposed it was part and parcel of being married to the Ship’s Counselor.  “I saved you a couple of replicator rations today, in case you and he wanted to have a beer,” she offered.

 

“I adore you,” Kieran replied.  “See you later.  I love you, honey.”

 

“You too,” B'Elanna echoed.  “Torres out.”

 

Noah reemerged in his knock-around clothes, took his beer, and let Kieran change in his room.  When Kieran came back out, he said “Unless chest size makes a big difference for women.”

 

Kieran quirked an eyebrow, then remembered he had said she could fit in Seven’s clothes.  “Are you saying I’ve got no rack?”

 

Noah chuckled.  “I’m saying Seven has the supreme rack,” he admitted sheepishly.  “The sad thing is, I’m not sure who appreciated it more—Rachel, or me.”

 

Kieran raised her beer in acknowledgement.  “I’m guessing Rachel, to be honest.  But if it’s any consolation, Seven doesn’t know she’s alive.  Seven only has eyes for Kathryn.”  She flopped down on the couch next to her pal.

 

“Did you really never have a guy come on to you, KT?” he reflected back on her comment about ‘slipping into something more comfortable.  “I mean, you may be gay, but most guys would take one look at you, and figure it’s at least worth a try, anyway.”

 

Kieran laughed.  “Is that an indictment of the intelligence of men, or are you trying to say I don’t fit the stereotype?”

 

“Both,” Noah decided.  “You’ve always known you prefer women?”

 

Kieran nodded.  “Always.  I’ve had lots of male friends, though.  My best friend in high school was a guy, in fact,” she mentioned, pressing back further into the couch cushions and crossing her legs.

 

“The way I understand it, most gay people know they are.  How come Rachel didn’t figure it out until I came along?” he wondered.  “Am I feminine enough that she liked me in spite of my gender?” he sounded worried.  “Or was she bisexual before she got together with me, and I just ruined that for her?”

 

Kieran smiled and took his hand.  “Bud, you are not feminine.  You are as masculine as a man can be.  Rachel knew about herself, I’m sure of that.  After all, it was pretty apparent she had a crush on Seven, and she’s never denied it. But she liked you so much, she thought to herself, just maybe, she could get past her customary parameters.  And she did.  She just finally realized that it wasn’t enough just to get outside the box—you have to love being outside it, revel in it, until you forget there even was a box.  She just didn’t get to the point of forgetting there was a box.  That’s all.  It’s not an insult to you in any way.”

 

Noah considered that.  “Her being outside the box was enough for me,” he commented. 

 

Kieran took a long pull on her beer.  “That’s because you’re clear on your sexuality.  It wasn’t enough for Rachel because she realized she really needs to be with a woman.”

 

Noah pulled his legs up under himself, leaning back against the couch, gazing at the ceiling.  “I guess it must have been a struggle for her.  She said it would be so easy to stay with me, but that she’d be cheating me,” he looked perplexed.  “God, when did it get so complicated?  When I was back on Earth, it was simple.  You liked somebody, you asked them out.  If it worked, great, if it didn’t, there were a million other people to check out.  But on Voyager, there aren’t a lot of women, and the ones I like the most are all gay.  Go figure.”

 

Kieran grinned.  “Harry Kim said that very same thing to me, once.  I’ll tell you the same thing I told him.  You like strong women, and that means it’s more likely they’ll be androgynous, and more open minded, and more likely to like women.”

 

Noah laughed.  “Maybe I need to find some shrinking violet, then,” he leaned his head against Kieran’s shoulder.  “Do you know any?”

 

“I’m sure there are a few,” Kieran speculated.  “But you’d never develop an attraction, Noah.  Trust me.”

 

He sighed loudly.  “I really thought Rachel was the one, KT.  Part of me still does.  How do I get over her?”

 

Kieran rubbed his head with her free hand, soothing him.  “Time.  Distance.  And you have to keep yourself busy.  In fact, I know just the thing to make you irresistible to the women on this ship.”

 

He sat up, a hopeful expression on his face.  “You do?”

 

Kieran nodded.  “Volunteer in the childcare center.  There are a ton of single women who put in shifts there, and it’s because they love the kids.  They’ll be so impressed with you if you show that you like kids.”

 

“You’re devious, KT,” he accused, “but shrewd.”

 

Kieran waggled her eyebrows.  “I never lacked for dates when I was single,” she bragged.  “Follow your Ship’s Counselor’s advice, Mr. Lessing, and you’ll be so charming, every woman on board will want to bed you.”

 

Noah finished his beer.  “I’ll give it a try,” he decided.  He looked up at the wall chronometer.  “Aren’t you keeping your lovely wife waiting, Counselor?”

 

“Nope.  I told her not to hold dinner for me.  She saved us a couple of replicator rations, in case we wanted another beer,” Kieran informed him.

 

“That was awfully sweet of her,” Noah was clearly touched.  “Why don’t we use them for some extravagant dessert, instead, and surprise her by showing up for dinner?”

 

“Only if you want to,” Kieran insisted.  “You’re not keeping me from anything, bud.”

 

“Liar,” he nudged her.  “I’m keeping you from spending your only free shift in two weeks with your family.  Let’s go, KT.  I like B'Elanna.  I don’t want to deprive her of her time with you.”

 

Kieran kissed his cheek and launched herself off the couch, helping him up.  “I knew I loved you for a reason.  B'Elanna will be thrilled.”

____________

 

B'Elanna Thompson-Torres munched on a piece of toast, watching as Kieran looked through her daily planner on her PADD.  Kieran punched in a few commands, then reviewed her itinerary.

 

“Busy day today?” B'Elanna asked quietly as she stirred cream into her coffee.

 

“Mmm-hmm.  Take a look,” Kieran turned the display so B'Elanna could read it.

 

“Good lord, do you really schedule your life in fifteen minute increments?” B'Elanna was aghast.

 

“I have to,” Kieran shrugged indifferently, elbows planted firmly on the table.  “I’m only one person, and there are a lot of people on this ship who need counseling services.  Sometimes, I set a fifteen minute appointment to check in on someone, because that’s all the time I have on a given day.  Like this morning, I’m going to go by the mess hall to see Rachel McVicker.  It’s not an official session, but I want to make sure she’s okay after moving out of Noah’s yesterday.”

 

Kieran kept a lot of her work informal, rather than always making a crewmember schedule a visit to her office.  She walked with clients in the arboretum, sat with them through portions of their duty shifts, even met some in the gym, especially if they had anger management issues.  To an outsider looking in, she seemed to do it effortlessly.  Only B'Elanna truly knew the precision and organization that was required to be effective as Ship’s Counselor.

 

B'Elanna shook her head.  “Your schedule alone is more complicated than my work,” she looked chagrined.  “How do you find time for school?  I know you study on the bridge at night, but do you get it all done and still manage to run Voyager?”

 

“I think so.  Chakotay hasn’t nailed me on anything procedural yet.  I even find time to hold an occasional counseling session while I’m on Beta shift.  I just have the client come to the ready room.  It’s actually pretty efficient that way.  Some of my Alpha shift patients just can’t make time during the day.  As for studying, I do most of it after I get home, while you’re sleeping.”  Kieran finished her grapefruit juice and her toast, gulped down her coffee, and wiped her mouth.  “If I leave now, I can drop Katie at childcare, catch Naomi before her morning class, and still make it to the mess hall to check in with Rachel.”

 

B'Elanna forced a smile.  “You spread yourself too thin, Kieran.”

 

“I’m superwoman, B'Elanna.  Haven’t you figured that out yet?” she teased, gathering her dishes to be recycled.  “It’s all time management.”

 

“Yeah?  Then how come I’m not on this schedule, anywhere?” B'Elanna griped.

 

Kieran took the PADD and glanced through it.  “We could have dinner in the ready room after the start of Beta shift, if you want to,” she offered, smiling warmly.

 

B'Elanna was not appreciative.  “I don’t think I want to bother, if you have to squeeze me in.  I’d hate to break up your rhythm,” she added sarcastically.

 

Kieran gave her an enigmatic look.  “Are you mad at me?”

 

B'Elanna rolled her eyes in disgust.  “I haven’t spent more than five minutes alone with you, unless you count sleeping, in almost a month.”

 

“We just sat here for twenty, BangwIj,” Kieran argued, confused by B'Elanna’s sudden sullen mood.

 

“Right,” B'Elanna replied with barely controlled irritation.  “You go on, before you get yourself out of sync for the whole day,” she tried to sound even-tempered.  “Have a good day.”

 

Kieran stooped and kissed her briefly.  “You too.”

________________

 

Katie Thompson-Torres didn’t cry when Kieran dropped her off with the childcare center staff.  The energetic little Klingon simply said “Bye, Marmar” and waddled off on increasingly certain legs to find her best playmate, Geejay Janeway, and as soon as she had spotted the white-blonde-haired, blue-eyed little girl, ‘Marmar’ was forgotten.  It amused Kieran to no end, the way that Geejay and Katie’s faces would light up as soon as the other arrived.  They would smile and giggle and sometimes, they even hugged each other.  They seemed to have their own language of broken phrases and mispronounced words, and Kieran would’ve sworn they communicated as effectively as most adults.

 

Then Kieran was off to meet Naomi Wildman at the classroom Naomi shared with Teseque, Jamari, and Icheb.  Naomi was recovering from the effects of exposure to psychotropins that had caused her to hallucinate vividly, and Kieran was careful to take the young girl’s psychological temperature at least once a day, even if it was just a five minute conversation here or there. She could kill two birds with one stone this morning, because she wanted to see how Tessie and Jamari were doing, too.

 

The children were in the middle of a lively discussion about the Cartesian coordinate system, trying to simplify it so that Tessie could comprehend trinomial expressions, bell curves, and multivariate regression.  Tessie had never attended school on Restid Three, and she was well behind most children her age in academic knowledge.  The other children were helping her catch up.  Kieran smiled at the kind way Icheb showed Tessie the axes of the graph, and how to plot data.  The Counselor slipped into the room, trying not to interrupt, but Naomi spotted her right away.

 

“Hey, KT!” she called out, smiling.  “Are you joining us for lessons?”

 

“Not today, sweetie.  But it sounds like you’re hard at it already,” she was about to help herself to a seat beside the pretty, strawberry-blonde Ktarian, when Naomi stood to hug her.  “I just wanted to say hi, and see how you’re doing,” she explained.

 

Naomi hugged her around the neck, enjoying the fragrance of Kieran’s skin.  “I’m good.  Thanks for asking.  How about you?”

 

“My gosh, Na,” Kieran ignored the question, hugging her back.  “You must have grown another inch,” she held the girl out by the shoulders, appraising her mood as well as her physical appearance.  “You’re up to my chin.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Naomi nodded.  “I guess it’s another growth spurt.  If this keeps up, I’m going to be taller than you are,” she smiled.

 

Kieran pressed on with her own inquiry, since the other children had resumed their discussion.  “You’re not having any bad dreams, or feeling down?” she peered intently into Naomi’s clear, hazel eyes.

 

Naomi shook her head.  “No.  Why?”  She had, in fact, been having nightmares, but she wasn’t about to tell Kieran that.

 

“Well, you had a pretty intense experience on Restid Three, and I just want to make sure I check in with you periodically, in case you think of something you want to tell me about it,” Kieran explained.

 

Naomi smiled sweetly, thinking it would be a cold day in a warp core breach before she told Kieran about her hallucinations.  “You worry too much,” she advised the Counselor.  “I’m fine.”

 

“Okay,” Kieran agreed amiably.  “You know where my office is, Na.”

 

Kieran turned her attention to Tessie and Jamari, and having satisfied herself that they were doing well, she excused herself to jog to the mess hall to find Rachel.

 

The mess hall was packed with Alpha shift personnel who were hustling to get breakfast before their shift began.  Kieran tracked down Rachel McVicker, waved Rachel over to a vacant table, and helped herself to her second cup of coffee of the morning.  Rachel looked worse than Kieran could ever remember.  Her raven hair was messy, her uniform slightly wrinkled, and her emerald green eyes were puffy.

 

“You had a rough night?” she asked the dark-haired Ensign as Rachel joined her.

 

“I look that bad, huh,” she stated flatly.  “It’s weird sleeping alone again.  Especially after sleeping next to Noah.  He takes his half of a double bed out of the middle.  Being alone was like being in this vast ocean of empty mattress,” she explained.  “Instead of sprawling out, like I thought I would, I ended up in a tight little ball, just like I did with him.”

 

Kieran sipped her coffee thoughtfully.  “It takes time to adjust.  It’ll be easier tonight.  You’ll see.”

 

“Have you seen him?” Rachel asked, scrutinizing her friend.

 

“Yes.  I saw him last night.  He’s going to get by, though he’s not himself right now.  This is a very difficult time for both of you.  But you’re doing the right thing, Rachel.  It’s the honest thing,” Kieran assured her, patting her hand.

 

“Keep telling me that,” Rachel requested, her brow furrowing.  “I’m not adverse to being alone, KT.  But I hate that breaking up with him means not spending time with him until he can handle it.  He’s such a good friend.”

 

Kieran nodded sympathetically, but reminded her,  “A good friend who happens to be in love with you.  You know yourself how hard that can be, when you have feelings for someone who doesn’t return them in the manner or with the intensity you feel,” Kieran said softly. 

 

Rachel knew it was a thinly veiled reference to her former infatuation with Seven of Nine.  “Yes, I’ve been there,” she agreed, trying to hide the blush in her cheeks.

 

“Then you know giving Noah some breathing room is the best thing for him.  And for you.”

 

Rachel swallowed hard.  “You make it sound so simple.  So obvious.  But it’s taking a Herculean effort for me not to run back to him, KT.  It hurts so much to know that I hurt him, and to know how much I gave up.  If there were some wonderful woman waiting for me, it’d make sense to me, but there’s not,” her voice grew thick.

 

“Eventually, there will be.  But if you stay with Noah, that can’t happen.  You’d be negating any possibility of finding the right partner, by opting to stay with a safe partner,” Kieran gently counseled.  “I’m telling you, in a couple of weeks, when the smoke has cleared, there will be women who will let you know they are interested.  You’re a good person, and a very attractive woman, Rachel.  Once the word gets out that you’re available, the attention will be there,” Kieran said certainly.

 

Rachel smiled.  “Thanks, KT.  I hope you’re right.”

 

“I am,” Kieran stated with a resolute nod.

____________

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres was on her third cup of coffee by the time her first official appointment arrived.  Harry Kim had been through a very bad time of late. He had been exposed to the same psychotropin-producing life forms on Restid Three that Naomi Wildman had been exposed to, and it had left him emotionally fragile and depressed.  Kieran had been seeing him two to three times a week ever since he had been released from sickbay.

 

His haunted, restless eyes made her heart ache for him, his usual meticulous grooming replaced by a careless appearance that seemed to address hygiene more as an afterthought than a priority.  For the first time since Kieran met Harry, he was losing weight.  Kieran saw that as a particularly bad sign, since Harry had always loved to eat, and was ordinarily in danger of being chubby.  Now his cheeks were sunken in, his facial bones protruded in sharp angles, and his uniform hung loosely on him.  Kieran had suggested several times that he needed to replicate a smaller size, but he either ignored her or forgot the minute he left his counseling session.

 

Now he sat before her, disinterested and fidgeting, unable to focus on the same topic for more than a few minutes at a time.  He’d had to discontinue his command school studies, and although he was back on duty, Captain Janeway reported privately that if Harry didn’t shape up, she was either going to have to put him back on leave, or move him to Beta shift.  Alpha shift was reserved for the top performers, and Harry was barely going through the motions.

 

“How are things with you and Claren?” Kieran prompted him again, trying to get him to discuss something, anything that mattered to him.

 

Harry studied the heel of his boot.  “Oh, we decided not to see each other anymore.  I don’t know.  She’s a great girl, I suppose, but she’s no Seriah.”  Harry referred to the imaginary woman he had been married to in his hallucinations.

 

Kieran hid a smile.  “Do you think it’s fair to make your girlfriend live up to the image of someone who doesn’t exist?  I mean, Seriah was an unrealistic ideal your mind created.”

 

“It’s probably not fair, but that’s what I’m doing.  Claren’s not Seriah.  She never can be.  Even if Seriah isn’t real, she’s essentially what I want.”

 

“So she’s become the benchmark for your future relationships,” Kieran stated, relieved that he was finally talking in sentences instead of grunts and blunt gestures.

 

“Seems like it,” Harry agreed.  “If I never find anyone that wonderful, well, at least I won’t waste my time on less than what I want,” he affirmed with a hangdog expression on his emaciated face.

 

Kieran suppressed the urge to sigh in frustration.  Harry had always been the predictable member of the senior staff.  He was the first to get his hopes up when Voyager had a shot at getting home, and he was the last to recover from the disappointment when they failed.  At the faintest glimmer of a chance, he had always gone into high geared optimism.  Not anymore.  Kieran couldn’t get him to look forward to anything, not since his experience on Restid Three.  He was too indifferent to bother to work up a good lather over anything.  Kieran had no idea how to reach him.  But she would keep trying.

_______________

 

Alecia and Jonah Curtis, pursuant to the terms of their agreement to adopt Teseque and Jamari Schwama, attended weekly counseling sessions with Counselor Thompson-Torres.  Kieran had no sooner cleared her mind after her meeting with Harry than the Curtises showed up.  So far, everything had been smooth and effortless for the new family unit.  Kieran knew it wouldn’t last, because both children had lived very traumatic lives on Restid Three, and her training told her that as soon as the kids felt sure of their new surroundings, behavioral issues would arise.

 

She had warned Alecia and Jonah about the impending storm.  It was only natural for orphans to come into a new setting on their best behavior, cognizant of their dependence upon the kindness of strangers.  But once the familial bond had solidified, there would be old wounds and buried anger and resentment to deal with.  Alecia and Jonah had both come from large families that had a history of dysfunction, and they felt prepared to weather the deluge.  Kieran was confident in their parenting ability, since both had practically raised their younger siblings.

 

Their counseling session was limited to discussing the adjustment each of the family members was making, talking over strategies and issues that had come up since the prior visit.  Things continued without a hitch, and Kieran, though gratified that the match was a good one, dreaded the inevitable struggles that were on the horizon.  She admired Alecia and Jonah for their willingness to take on the challenge of raising two kids, especially two kids whose childhood had been such a nightmare.  She and B'Elanna were barely able to handle one perfectly normal child, let alone two damaged ones.

 

Before lunch, Kieran had a session with Mortimer Harren, a crewman whom Captain Janeway had recommended for counseling.  He was having trouble fitting in with the crew, despite efforts of his coworkers, and even Janeway herself, to help him.  Kieran thought he was simply so brilliant on so many levels that he became bored easily, and that he found socializing too tedious and thankless to bother.  She was working with him on his social skills, and on sensitivity training.  He needed to learn patience with the ‘lesser beings’ around him.  Kieran found him more tiring and challenging than just about any of her patients.  He reminded her of Seven of Nine in many ways, though Mortimer’s lack of tolerance of others could hardly be attributed to having been part of a vastly ‘superior’ collective mind.  Kieran knew that deep down, he wanted desperately to belong, to be part of the in-group.  She had to teach him that maintaining his distance and his defenses through condescension was not an appropriate strategy for relating to others.

 

Lunchtime found her jogging to be on time to meet Commander Chakotay.  Once a week, they met to go over her bridge logs, command school assignments, and to discuss her progress in the program.  Lately, however, Chakotay was using the weekly meetings as an excuse to get some counseling time for himself.

 

He was struggling with his role as First Officer, and really felt that he needed some time off.  So many of the people around him had made lasting connections with other members of the crew, many marrying and some having children.   He envied them and wanted to find the same deeper meaning for his own life, but felt his duties kept him so strapped for time, that he never really forged a bond with anyone.  They had been lost in the Delta Quadrant a decade, and he felt his life was slipping away from him.

 

At one time, he had envisioned a life with Kathryn Janeway.  His illusions were ground to dust almost as soon as Seven of Nine came aboard Voyager.  Over the years, he had dated several women in the crew, but the relationships never really developed beyond dating.  His most significant relationship had been with a woman named Kellin, a Ramuran tracer, but his memories of her had been wiped clean by her people, and all he really knew were the few tidbits he had written down about her.  His most memorable relationship had been with Seska, and the memories were not pleasant.  His dissatisfaction with the quality of his life had deepened in the last couple of years.   He had grown despondent and felt a desire to regroup.  Kieran was trying to convince him to ask Kathryn for a leave of absence.

 

“Chakotay,” she was saying quietly, so no one in the mess hall would overhear, “it’s no big deal.  Tuvok has filled in for you enough times, and if Kathryn feels like taking me for a test drive, I’m ready to be acting First Officer.”

 

Chakotay wiped his mouth, grinning facetiously, so that his tattooed temple crinkled pleasantly.  “Are you trying to say nobody would miss me?”

 

“No.  I’m trying to say, you’ve earned the time off.  We’ve been out here a long time.  Everyone on the senior staff has taken extended leaves but you.  B'Elanna and I did, for our honeymoon, and after my displacement experience.  Kathryn and Seven have taken vacations and a honeymoon.  Tuvok took time when he was going through Pon Farr.  Tom takes time off every chance he gets.  Even Harry has taken a week here and there.  No one will fault you.”

 

Chakotay sipped his coffee, quirking an eyebrow.  “If you fill in for me, Kathryn might decide you can keep my job,"  he joked, but Kieran knew he harbored some fear that it was true.

 

“That won’t happen, Commander.  You made this crew possible for the Captain by bringing the Maquis troops into the fold.  She knows how important you were for that endeavor, and how important you still are.  Although most of the former Maquis think of themselves as Voyager crew, there are some who still feel separate, and your being First Officer is crucial to them.  Kathryn has a very workable dynamic on this ship, and you’re a big piece of why it works.  She isn’t foolish enough to try to tinker with it,” Kieran assured him.  “Ask her for the time off.  You clearly need it.  You’re entitled to it.  And besides,” she smiled fondly at him, “if we get in a bind, we know where you live.  We’ll knock on your door at the first sign of trouble,” she teased.

 

Chakotay fiddled with his spoon, swirling it in his coffee, thinking.  “I’m reluctant because I don’t want to let Kathryn down.  I’ve let her down too often before, and I want her to know she can count on me.”

 

Kieran nodded.  “I understand that.  But taking some time off isn’t letting her down.  It’s being human.  We’ve had to make considerations for a lot the crew, and we’ll have to continue to do so until we find a way home.  Are you planning to work full time for the next forty years?” she asked coolly.

 

His eyes widened.  “God, don’t even think it.  We have to find a way home before then.”

 

“Will you ask her, Chakotay?” Kieran prodded him.

 

He sighed with resignation.  “Okay.  I’ll ask her.”

_______________

 

Kieran spent the early afternoon attending a staff meeting.  She usually sat next to B'Elanna, even though they couldn’t really interact, just for the indulgence of being near her.  Kieran thought B'Elanna was extraordinarily beautiful, and never tired of filling her eyes with the sight of the dark-haired Klingon.  This day, B'Elanna made a point of sitting several chairs away, and though Kieran was stung, she didn’t try to force the issue.  Instead she sat beside Tuvok, kept her eyes trained on Kathryn, and made herself focus on the meeting.  Whatever was bothering B'Elanna would have to wait.

 

Kieran’s next appointment was in the exobiology lab, where one of the crewmembers was having a conflict with the lab supervisor.  Chakotay handled all personnel matters, especially in the area of job performance, but the Ship’s Counselor was required to attend when formal reprimands were involved.  Kieran disliked this function of her job more than any other.  Of course she agreed that her expertise was sometimes needed, and she wanted to make herself available in case her intervention was appropriate, but so often, job performance issues were nothing more than personality conflicts between two immature people who let things escalate to exaggerated proportions.  There were times when she had to repress the impulse to tell people to just grow up.

 

Her final afternoon appointment was with Dani Jessup, who was a new patient for Kieran.  Intake sessions were fairly unpredictable in terms of their length and intensity.  Some people showed up and gave just a basic overview of why they were seeking counseling.  Others came fully in crisis, hysterical or suicidal, needing immediate, thorough attention. 

 

Kieran was seated behind her desk, waiting for Dani to arrive, thinking again about Naomi Wildman.  She wished more than anything that the young Ktarian would confide in her, but Naomi had been tight-lipped about her experiences on Restid Three.  And since those experiences, Naomi had been a profoundly different person.  Her affect was changing almost as rapidly as her body.  Kieran was simply flabbergasted by how tall Naomi had suddenly become, and she was sure it had to be setting records somewhere.  As if thinking of her strawberry blonde friend summoned her, Naomi stuck her head in the door.

 

Kieran saw immediately that the girl was in excruciating pain.  She jumped up and ran to her. 

 

“KT,” Naomi, fell to the floor.  “God, help me,” she groaned, drawing her legs to her chest.

 

“Honey,” Kieran was over her in a minute, “what is it?”

 

“My legs,” she gasped.  “They hurt so bad.  Get the Doctor,” she gripped Kieran’s arm, her face pale and drawn.

 

Kieran slapped her comm badge.  “Counselor to the Doctor, I have a medical emergency in my office.  It’s Naomi.”

 

Dani Jessup found Naomi lying in the doorway, Kieran tending to her.  “Good lord,” she breathed, “How can I help?”

 

Kieran had Naomi in her arms, trying to calm her.

 

Naomi’s face was covered in perspiration, her pale pink lips washed out to a transparent opal.  “Please, make it stop,” she moaned, writhing.

 

The Doctor materialized, medical bag in hand.  He scanned her.  “Naomi, tell me what happened,” he said over her rhythmic groans.

 

“My legs hurt,” she winced as a shooting pain hit her again.

 

“Yes, I can see why,” he focused his scan there.  “I’ve got to get her to sickbay,” the Doctor said, rummaging in his bag.  “I’m going to give you something for the pain,” he announced, pressing a hypospray to her throat.

 

The agony relented momentarily, and Naomi relaxed in Kieran’s arms.

 

“How about if we reschedule?” Dani offered, seeing that there was no way Kieran would leave Naomi for a second.

 

“That’d be great, thanks,” Kieran replied.  “Send a request to my comm account.”

 

“Computer, site to site transport,” the Doctor ordered.  “Kieran, meet us in sickbay,” he barked.

 

______________

 

Naomi was resting quietly, glassy eyed from the strong analgesic medication the Doctor had administered.  He prepped another hypospray, pressing it to Naomi’s throat.

 

Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine stood by anxiously, the Counselor by their side.  “What’s happening to her, Doctor?” Seven implored, worried.

 

He finished with Naomi and came to speak to the three women.  “Her growth hormones are off the scale,” he showed them the readings on a PADD.  “Ktarian physiology is supposed to mature at an accelerated rate, but not like this.  The pain she is experiencing is from growing too fast.  Her bones are laying down new growth faster than her tissues can adapt.  It must be excruciating,” he said sympathetically.  “I can treat her for the pain, but I don’t think I can slow down the process, not without damaging her normal development.  It’s like she’s packing a year into every month.  There’s nothing like it in the data base, for humans, or for Ktarians.”

 

Kathryn shook her head grimly.  “Ever since Restid Three, she’s been acting strangely,” she reported, concerned. 

 

Seven nodded agreement.  “She has had to change uniform sizes four times,” she added, “primarily because her chest has developed so suddenly.  She is terribly self-conscious about it,” Seven said apologetically to Kathryn, “so I didn’t tell you,” she took the Captain’s hand.

 

“Well, I’ll do some research, see if there’s any sort of ameliorative treatment.  But I think she is going to have to ride this out,” the EMH replied.

 

Kieran slipped an arm around either of the women, assuring them silently.

 

“KT?” Naomi asked from inside sickbay, drowsy from the pain medication and disoriented.

 

“Excuse me,” Kieran went to her, laying her hand on Naomi’s forehead.  “Yes, sweetie?”

 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” she said sleepily.  “I didn’t mean to be a nuisance.”

 

Kieran kissed her forehead and gathered the Ktarian into her arms.  “You could never be a nuisance,” she assured her.  “But you did scare the bejesus out of me.  Are you okay?”

 

Naomi snuggled into her.  “I am now,” she murmured, dropping off to sleep.

 

Kieran stayed with her until it was time to go to her command shift, watching the pretty Ktarian sleeping.  Kieran was fascinated by the changes in Naomi, not only because she was growing so quickly, but because although her Ktarian genes seemed to be dominant, Naomi looked much less like a Ktarian than a human.  Most Ktarian women had cat-like green eyes, while Naomi’s eyes were a perfectly lovely hazel color, without the elongated pupils or transparent irises of a Ktarian.  Ktarian women usually developed bulbous foreheads with pronounced cranial ridges, while Naomi’s face looked entirely human, save for several tiny cranial bumps that had gone from sharp horns to dull protrusions in the center of her forehead.  The differences between Naomi and a full blooded human were pronounced enough to discern she was not human, but no one would suspect she was Ktarian, either.  She was uniquely Naomi.

 

Naomi slept, though she was not at ease, bearing a faint crease in her brow, as if she were still in pain.  Kieran smoothed her hand over the furrow, and it relaxed beneath her caress.  Naomi instinctively moved closer to Kieran’s touch, comforted even as she dreamed.

 

“I have to go back to work, now, sweetie,” Kieran whispered, kissing Naomi’s soft, fine strawberry blonde hair.  “I’ll see you soon,” she murmured, slipping out of sickbay.

 

____________

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres was off for duty on Beta shift, where she was in command of the bridge.  She usually ate a hasty dinner in the ready room after everything was under control, and if things were particularly slow, she would study. 

 

Her mind wandered from her text on engineering, thinking back to B'Elanna’s words that morning.  Kieran sighed in frustration.  She knew B'Elanna was getting the short end of the stick, but when she tried to compromise, like agreeing to meet B'Elanna for dinner in the ready room, B'Elanna refused to meet her halfway.  This wasn’t the first time she had tried to find a middle ground with her wife, but B'Elanna always seemed to take offense to any suggestion that wasn’t 100% what B'Elanna wanted, which was Kieran’s uninterrupted and undivided attention.  Kieran poked her fork into her macaroni and cheese, no longer hungry.  She could feel the distance growing between them, but she didn’t know how to address it.  There was simply no time. 

 

The incident with Naomi had shaken her, as well.  Kieran felt unsettled, a vague sense that something more was wrong with the Ktarian, a premonition, she feared.  Naomi had stopped looking like a child, which they had expected, because of her Ktarian physiology.  But this sudden transmutation of her body, this was abnormal as hell.  Kieran left the bridge twice to check on her, and while nothing seemed particularly amiss, the Counselor felt uneasy.

 

_______________

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres keyed the entry to her quarters, aching in every muscle and joint from pure exhaustion. She had pulled double shifts for six consecutive days, with an average of four hours sleep per night. She had made a point of checking on Naomi at least twice a day ever since the incident with her legs several days before, and that was about the only thing she had been religious about doing. 

 

Kieran was mentally prepared to shirk the obligation to study, so she could get two extra hours of sleep this night.

She came into the living room to find B'Elanna passed out on the couch, Katie crying in the floor, and toys, clothing, and dishes everywhere. B'Elanna's uniform was stiff with dried blue gel, and she was snoring--a sure sign that she had collapsed after a grueling day.

 

Kieran scooped Katie up, trying to soothe her. “What's wrong, sweetie?” she said softly, patting her back. She sniffed at her bottom, realized she was soiled, and took her to the nursery to change her diaper. Katie kept crying, despite having a dry, clean diaper, and Kieran jostled her on one hip while she waded through the mess in the living room, gathering dishes and clothes to stuff them into the recycling unit. B'Elanna never stirred.

 

Katie pulled angrily at her right ear, wailing louder.

 

Kieran sat her on the counter, feeling her glands, and found the right side of her face swollen below the jaw. “Uh-oh, ” she said, smiling. “Somebody needs to see the Doctor," she picked her up again. “B'Elanna?” she shook her wife, kneeling beside the couch.

 

“Mmm?” the dark-complected Klingon scowled.

 

“Honey, I'm taking the baby to sickbay. I think she has an ear infection. You should go to bed.”

 

“Okay,”  B'Elanna replied groggily, immediately asleep again.

 

Kieran put Katie down for a second, rousing her wife. “Come on,”  she stripped the filthy uniform off of her as she eased her upright. “Let me get you out of this and into bed, first.”

 

B'Elanna submitted but did little to assist. Kieran finally gave up and carried her to bed, peeling off the uniform slacks and boots once she had her on the bed. She covered her wife, kissing her forehead, and stuffed the crusty uniform through the recycler. She found blue goo all over her hands. “What is this crap?” she muttered, heading for the sink to wash it off.

 

“Okay, warrior-diva,” she swooped back into the living room. “Let's go see if we can stop that hollering.” Katie only cried louder.

__________________

 

B'Elanna Thompson-Torres awoke with a start, glanced at the chronometer, and realized Kieran should be asleep beside her. She crept out of bed to see if the lanky command candidate was up studying, but found her sound asleep on the couch, Katie sleeping on top of her. The living room had been cleared of toys, dishes, and clothing, the counters were wiped clean, and the clutter that seemed to always adorn the tables was reorganized or put away. Kieran's hand splayed over Katie's back, and the baby wheezed with congestion. B'Elanna noticed that there was a bottle of medicinal ear drops on the coffee table, and she realized Kieran must have taken Katie to sickbay. She debated waking them up, but decided against it, since finally, there was peace and quiet in the house.

 

B'Elanna went back to bed, thankful that Kieran had finally pitched in and gotten their quarters back in order. She had intended to do it herself, but she was so bone weary after fighting system failures all day in Engineering that she hadn't even eaten dinner before she fell asleep. She crawled back under the covers, with a fleeting realization that she and Kieran hadn't spoken five words all week, and hadn't touched each other in much, much longer. She was too tired to even sustain that train of thought.

 

The next morning, B'Elanna let Kieran sleep until the very last minute possible, and Kieran never even noticed that Katie had been taken off of her chest. Katie was subdued by the medication, and for once, was easy to control getting her into her high chair and into her clothing.

 

“Sweetie,” B'Elanna whispered to her wife. “It's time to get up. Is Katie okay?”

 

Kieran sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Mmm--yeah, she uh--ear infection, pretty severe, I guess. These drops,” she reached for the bottle, still not awake. “Twice a day for two weeks. If she starts running another fever, we have to—uh—” she smacked her own face to wake herself up, “she has to go back to sickbay.”

 

“How did I miss that she was sick?” B'Elanna berated herself, still kneeling beside her wife.

 

“Lanna,” Kieran kissed her cheek. “You look like hell, yourself. In fact, maybe you should go by and see the EMH. You were sleeping so hard, Katie’s squalling didn't faze you. Do you feel okay?”

 

B'Elanna shrugged. “I've been wiped out, I know that.”

 

“What was that blue snot all over your uniform?” Kieran eased her legs over the side of the couch.

 

“Bioneural gel. The gel packs are in bad shape, and all of a sudden, the damn things are bursting on us. I guess I didn't get it all off of me.”

 

“I'll say,” Kieran breathed. “I got it all over me, just touching your clothes.” She glanced at the chronometer. “I have to get going.”

 

“Can I make you some breakfast?” B'Elanna asked hopefully.

 

Kieran shook her head. “I'll grab something at the office. I have a session first thing,” she headed for the ensuite.

 

B'Elanna sighed, heaving herself up from the floor.  Kieran felt like a total stranger, these days.

 

______________

 

The Doctor was in a snit of major proportions by the time B'Elanna Thompson-Torres could get to sickbay.  She tried not to burst out laughing as the EMH’s holomatrix shifted, leaving him with the head of a Hirogen hunter, the torso of a Talaxian, and the legs of an earth gorilla.

 

“I’m glad you find it amusing,” he accused the Chief Engineer as she entered sickbay.  “But it’s not only an invasion of my privacy, it is potentially dangerous,” he complained loudly.  “And I’m sure your wife is behind this.”

 

B'Elanna had to wonder, but kept her thoughts to herself.  “You have no evidence that Kieran did this, do you?” she asked, her eyes growing in amazement as his head became a praying mantis’, his body became that of Species 8472, and his legs became those of a human woman wearing silk stockings and high heels.

 

“No, but it would be the sort of childish prank she would pull,” he accused.

 

B'Elanna rolled her eyes.  “Look Doc, it’s not a disaster.  I can fix it.  How is it dangerous?”

 

He was livid.  “Suppose I was in surgery, and suddenly my hands turned into crab claws?” he fairly sputtered his indignation.

 

Captain Kathryn Janeway, who had been interrupted in the middle of dinner, arrived in a fragrant tornado of displaced air.  “Nice legs,” she smirked at the Doctor.

 

He nearly blew a circuit.  “So kind of you to notice,” he practically yelled.

 

Janeway started to chuckle as his legs changed into a giant frog’s, his torso became a naked human woman’s, and his head became that of the legendary Doctor Phlox from the original Enterprise.  “It reminds me of a game I had when I was a kid,” she commented.  “Is this Kieran’s handiwork, B'Elanna?”

 

B'Elanna was checking the Doctor’s programming, looking for telltale clues as to the culprit.  “Doesn’t look like it.  This is a little more sophisticated than her usual practical joke.  Besides, I can guarantee you she hasn’t had time for this sort of prank.”

 

The Doctor crossed his arms to hide his naked breasts as Tom Paris came into sickbay, whistling.  “Wow, Doc, how about a date?” he smarted.

 

The Doctor gave him a scathing look.  “Is this your idea of a good time, Mr. Paris?” he demanded.

 

“Don’t look at me.  I just came to get B'Elanna for our pool tournament at Sandrine’s.  But I wish I had thought of it,” he nodded appreciatively.

 

B'Elanna groaned from the console.  “I think I know who did it,” she announced, obviously displeased.

 

“Who?” Janeway demanded.

 

B'Elanna motioned her CO over to the display.  “Here’s the password he used,” she pointed to it on the screen.

 

“Oh, that’s original.  Icheb, spelled backwards?” the Captain planted her hands on her hips.  “Get his heinie in here.  Make him fix it.”

 

Tom Paris knew better than to whoop with laughter, but the prank gave him new respect for the young Borg.

 

Icheb reported to sickbay, looking completely at a loss.  “I swear, Captain, I did not do this.”

 

Janeway gave him her SRGB look.  “If you didn’t, can you guess who did?”

 

Icheb looked away guiltily.  “I cannot say with complete certainty,” he dissembled.

 

“Icheb?” Janeway’s tone could cut through hull plating.

 

“I think, perhaps, it was Jamari.  He was asking me about holograms the other day.”

 

B'Elanna crossed her arms.  “The kid has never even been to school, Icheb.  You expect us to believe he could pull this off?” she demanded, thinking Icheb was covering his own deception.  “Even I would have had to put several hours into devising this code,” she pointed out skeptically.

 

Icheb remained dispassionate.  “He is very bright.  And he reads everything he can find about technology, holodecks, engines, anti-matter—don’t assume he is incapable, just because he lacks formal instruction, Lieutenant.”

 

“Can you fix him?” Janeway inquired, inclining her head toward the EMH, who was currently sporting the head of Medusa, the torso of a parrot, and the feet of a salamander.

 

B'Elanna nodded.  “It’ll take an hour or so.  Maybe we should ask Jamari if he did this.”

 

Janeway considered.  “I think I want to run it by Kieran, first.  Make sure this isn’t some symptom of something more serious than a childhood lark before I frighten the hell out of him.”

 

The Doctor was baffled.  “He should be punished, Captain.  Since when could this sort of infraction pass by your notice?”

 

She lay a consoling hand on his shoulder, which was now that of a polar bear.  “I want the Counselor to take the lead on this, Doctor.  You know why.”

 

He sighed with exasperation, which was amusing in and of itself because his head was a komodo dragon’s, and when he sighed, his large forked tongue flicked out.  “All right.  But please,” he hissed sibilantly, “somebody, get me back to normal.”

_______________

 

Captain Kathryn Janeway stopped by the bridge on her way back home, hoping to speak with Kieran about Jamari.  She found Kieran at her post, nose in a PADD of data.  She pressed an upraised finger to her lips as she entered the bridge, signaling the ops officer to be silent.  She tiptoed down the walkway, until she was directly beside the Counselor.

 

“Interesting reading?” Kathryn asked.

 

Kieran almost fell out of her chair.  “How come nobody announced ‘Captain on the bridge’,” she bitched, scowling at the Captain.

 

The ensign at ops piped up.  “The Captain ordered me not to, Sir,” she replied to Kieran, looking guilty.

 

Kieran nodded.  “Can I do something for you Captain?”

 

Janeway smiled, pleased with herself.  “Let’s go to my—I mean your ready room,” she offered amiably.

 

They sat down on the sofa on the upper deck, Kieran sprawling in her customary way.  Kathryn flopped down beside her.

 

“It seems Jamari is somewhat of a practical joker,” she began.  “Ordinarily, I’d reprimand him, but I’m not sure that’s the best course.”

 

“Why, what did he do?” Kieran asked, immediately concerned.

 

When Kathryn explained the slide show of disparate body parts that was the Doctor, Kieran burst out laughing.  Kathryn joined her, and they howled until the tears ran.

 

“It was the funniest damned thing,” Kathryn told her, wiping her eyes.  “Of course the Doctor had a fit and fell in it,” she added, howling with laughter again.

 

“I’d give my left one to see what Jamari did to him,” Kieran agreed, chuckling.  “I wish I had thought of it,” she added.

 

“That’s what Tom Paris said,” Kathryn laughed.  “Childish minds think alike,” she teased.  “Anyway, should I throw the kid in the brig, or what would you recommend?”

 

“Well,” Kieran considered, “I think there was really no harm done.  But he can’t go unpunished either.  I think you should call him in to speak with him.  Give him your SRGB look—that alone would be punishment enough.  But don’t stop there.  Tell him—,” she gazed at the ceiling in thought, “tell him his programming was ingenious, and we were all very impressed.  But despite our admiration for his work, he invaded the Doctor’s privacy, created a situation that could have had dire consequences in a ship-wide emergency, and he wasted B'Elanna’s valuable time to reprogram the Doctor.  Make him help out in sickbay for an hour after school every day for a week.  Now that is punishment,” she laughed, thinking how little she would enjoy spending afternoons with the Doctor.

 

Kathryn nodded.  “I think that’s a good approach.  Then he’s not getting away with it, entirely, and I’m not leaning so heavily on him that he becomes withdrawn and afraid.”

 

“Wow, you’re sounding like a Ship’s Counselor, Kat.  Want to trade places for awhile?”

 

Kathryn grinned.  “Not in a million years, Kato.  I can’t work up enough compassion for that sort of thing.  And if I know anything about counseling, it’s because I pay attention to you.”

 

Kieran grinned.  “Well, I’m flattered.  I thought you tended to ignore everyone,” she ribbed her CO.

 

“Hardly.  Seven is a formidable woman.  You do NOT ignore her.  You haven’t lived until you’ve seen the terror that is a pissed off Borg,” Kathryn advised.  Then with a sigh, she asked “Can I have my ready room back for awhile?  I want to see Jamari right away.”

 

Kieran stood to leave.  “All yours,” she offered.  “I’ll be on the bridge, keeping your chair warm if you need me.  Kat?”

 

Kathryn looked up  expectantly.

 

“Is Naomi better?”  The Ktarian had had yet another episode of severe leg pain and this time, vomiting, while she was working out in the gym.  Noah had told Kieran about it, since he had been with Naomi at the time.

 

Kathryn smiled.  “You’ve seen her at least four times today, Kato.  You know she is,” she assured her friend.  “Your concern is appreciated, though.”

 

“Hey, she’s my girl,” Kieran nodded.  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, okay?”

 

“Of course.   Good night,” she said fondly.

 

___________________

 

Katie Torres had no more recovered from her ear infection than she came down with another one.  B’Elanna was up and down with her all night, every night.  Kieran came home after a double shift, drooping from lack of sleep, and found a new bottle of ear drops in the kitchen. 

 

“Damn,” she swore, thinking about how badly the last ear infection had gone for her daughter.

 

B’Elanna had heard Kieran come in, and got up to spend five minutes with her.  She overheard Kieran swearing. 

 

“Yeah,” she chimed in.  “That’s her second in a month,” she complained.  “All the kids at childcare have them, too,” she added, yawning.  “The Doctor thinks she’s had this one two or three days,” B’Elanna noted pointedly, arms crossed over her chest in defensiveness.

 

Kieran studied her, sensing her wife was irritated.  “And?”

 

“You know things have been a nightmare in Engineering, lately,” B’Elanna planted her hands on her hips.  “I can’t raise this kid by myself, Kieran,” she snapped peevishly.  “I work all day, and by the time I can get free to pick her up, she’s already asleep for the night.  If you were around, maybe one of us would have noticed she’s sick,” she sounded accusatory.

 

Kieran was baffled.  “This is my fault?  I’m working more hours than you are, Lanna.  What am I supposed to do--take Katie with me to the bridge while I have command duty?” she kept her tone reasonable.

 

B’Elanna crossed her arms.  “You make time to see Naomi every day, especially lately,” she bit her words off.  “But not your own daughter.”

 

Kieran’s stomach churned.  She took a deep, slow breath, curbing her exhaustion and her anger.  “Okay, I’ll be better.  I’m sorry.  Would you like it if I skipped studying tonight, and just came to bed with you?  We haven’t spent any time together in so long,” she suggested, hoping to persuade her wife.

 

B’Elanna smirked.  “I need to sleep.  I doubt tomorrow will be any less horrific than today was.  Sorry,” she said, turning to go back to bed.  Her tone made it clear that she was, in fact, not sorry at all.

 

___________________

 

Naomi Wildman almost never dropped by the Counselor’s office unless something was bothering her.  When she stuck her head into Kieran’s office, Kieran could tell the young Ktarian was upset.  Kieran wondered if perhaps Naomi was feeling bad about Jamari’s recent punishment, since the budding engineer tended to take on other people’s troubles.  Jamari had served out his week long sentence in sickbay, and Kieran was certain the young man would toe the line for a very long time to come.

 

Naomi peeked around the doorframe, checking to see if Kieran was alone.

 

“Hi sweetie.  Come on in,” Kieran invited her.  “Have a seat.”

 

“Thanks,” Naomi said softly. 

 

“You look a lot better than the last time you were here,” Kieran waved her into a chair.  “What’s on your mind?”

 

She sat down across from the tall Ship’s Counselor, who wore the powder blue uniform of the sciences, gathering her thoughts.  “You know, KT, you look really good in blue,” she began.  “I’m not sure red is such a great color for you,” she added.

 

Kieran was taken aback.  On one level, they could be discussing wardrobes.  On quite another, Naomi could be saying Kieran shouldn’t pursue a command track.  “You don’t like me in red?” she prompted the youngster.

 

“I think you look better in blue,” Naomi replied.  “And so does B'Elanna.”

 

And there was the real point of the conversation.  “Are you saying B'Elanna doesn’t want me to be a First Officer someday?”

 

“It’s not that she doesn’t want you to be promoted.  She’s just really unhappy right now, KT,” Naomi said honestly, smoothing her hands over her slender thighs, brushing her uniform pants down.

 

“Did she tell you that?” Kieran asked, leaning forward.

 

“Not in so many words, but I know she wishes you’d just drop out of school and spend some time with her.  You have to do something,” Naomi urged her, making eye contact again.

 

“I know B'Elanna is unhappy, Na.  Unfortunately, I can’t just drop out now.  She and I agreed a long time ago that I could and should pursue a command track if that’s what I wanted, and she agreed to support me.  She can’t just change her mind now,” Kieran insisted.  She leaned back in her chair, hands laced together behind her head and asked  “What would you do?”

 

Naomi sat upright.  “You’re asking me?”

 

Kieran grinned, pulling her long braid of chestnut hair over her shoulder, so as not to catch it behind her back.  “Yes.  What would you do?”

 

Naomi looked flustered.  “I don’t know, KT.  I agree that it’s not really fair for B'Elanna to ask you to quit, not after you’ve worked so hard.  But maybe there are other things you could do.  When Borg-Mom is really mad at K-Mom, sometimes, K-Mom gives her flowers,” she offered lamely, “or maybe you could leave your bridge shift a little early, and surprise her.”

 

“Thanks, Counselor,” Kieran said affably.  “I’ll take it under consideration.  Was there anything else on your mind?”

 

Naomi shook her head and stood to leave.  “Thanks, KT,” she excused herself.  Then she stuck her head back into the room.  “Kieran?” she asked softly.

 

“Yes?” Kieran glanced up at her earnest face.

 

“I think you look good in red, really.  I like you in every color,” Naomi admitted, afraid she might have hurt Kieran’s feelings.

 

“Thanks, sweetie,” Kieran smiled warmly at her.  “I love you, Na.”

 

Naomi smiled with relief.  “I love you, too,” she answered promptly.  “Bye.”

 

Kieran shook her head.  Kids could be so funny.

 

_______________

 

The nightmare was always the same, Naomi realized, though she was helpless to stop herself from dreaming it.  She sat up in her bed, awake now, shivering, drenched in cold sweat and terrified.  When she was asleep, she knew it was only a dream, yet she couldn’t wake herself at will. It was so vivid it never failed to upset her, and she kept waking up nauseated and bathed in perspiration, her bedcovers tangled around her feet as if she had been tied with restraints.

 

Her body smelled sour to her, as if she needed a shower.  One second she was cold, teeth chattering, and the next she was flushed with an intensely unpleasant fever.  She leaned over the side of her bed, retching into the waste can, head spinning. 

 

Seven of Nine slept lightly, as she had since ever since Naomi had been kidnapped.  It was as if she had conditioned herself to keep half of her mind alert while the other side slept.  Kieran had teased the Borg that marine mammals slept that way, but Seven didn’t care, as long as she knew her family was safe.

 

Naomi had never come into her mothers’ bedroom, unless she was ill.  When Seven felt the frail hand slide into her own, she was instantly awake.

 

“Naomi,” she blinked the cobwebs from her brain, “what’s wrong?”

 

Naomi squeezed Seven’s hand.  “I’m sick, Mom,” she whispered.  “I need to go to the Doctor.”

 

Seven was up in an instant, tugging on clothing and boots. 

 

“Don’t wake up K-Mom,” Naomi interceded before Seven could shake the sleeping Captain.  “Please.”

 

Seven could hear the plaintiveness in the request, and acceded to her daughter’s wishes.  She led the young girl into the living room, feeling her forehead.  “You are clammy,” she noted.  “Another nightmare?”

 

Naomi nodded.  “Yes, but that’s not why I’m sick.  There’s something--wrong with me,” she said, unable to articulate it. 

 

“Let’s go, then,” Seven put a firm arm around her shoulders, leading her out of their quarters.  “Are you in pain?”

 

“I ache all over,” she replied.  “I keep throwing up.  And I itch,” she explained, “but if I scratch, it burns worse,” she indicated her vaginal area with a subtle body posture.

 

“I’m sure the Doctor can take care of it,” Seven assured her.  “I’m glad you woke me up.”

_________________

 

The Doctor ran several scans, puzzled and intrigued at the same time.  He kept checking his instruments, to reassure himself they were properly calibrated.  “I think I can help,” he smiled pleasantly, concocting a hypospray and administering it to the queasy Ktarian.

 

“What is it?” Seven demanded, holding tight to Naomi’s hand.

 

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow.  “Ktarian sexual maturity,” he replied, amused.  “Apparently, Naomi’s experience on Restid Three was a catalyst for certain hormonal and neurochemical changes, changes that a full-blooded Ktarian would ordinarily experience, but not a hybrid.  Human hormones that control the changes in adolescence generally don’t assert themselves so early.  Ktarians, in addition to having estrogen and testosterone, have a very potent hormone, endogesterone, that becomes abundant in Ktarian women Naomi’s age.  Apparently, her father’s genetic makeup is dominant, because she has extremely high levels of endogesterone in her system.”

 

Seven wasn’t certain she understood the biology lecture, and turned an impatient glare on the EMH.

 

The Doctor sighed, exasperated.  “In lay terms,” he translated, “Naomi is growing up.”

 

He turned to Naomi.  “How are you feeling?”

 

“Better,” she decided.  “I don’t need to throw up, anymore, at least,” she touched her stomach, as if it pained her.

 

“The tenderness you’re experiencing in your breasts and in your vulva,” he explained, “is from the hormonal changes.  When the endogesterone surges, you will experience inflammation.  It can be unpleasant,” he tried to sympathize.  “I want you to take a hypospray when it becomes unbearable.  I’ll give you a vial to take home.  If your symptoms persist or get worse, come to see me.  I think the medication will take care of the itching and nausea.  The hot flashes will improve, over time.  How have your moods been?”

 

Naomi shrugged.  “Ask Seven.  Have I been acting normal?”

 

Seven smiled.  “She has been more withdrawn, and quicker to anger, but we thought it was from her exposure to the cerebrosporum.”

 

“It is, in a sense.  It’s as if the psychotropins served to accelerate her maturation in a sudden burst,” he tapped the keys on his medical tricorder.  “We’ve known for a long time that Naomi’s physiology was unlike human physiology, and now it is more Ktarian than ever.  I imagine it will take some adjusting, but that’s Counselor Thompson’s department,” he advised. “I recommend you speak with her about the emotions and confusion you’re feeling.  The hormones flooding your system are going to be challenging, and you should be prepared to deal with the urges and changes you’re going to experience.”

 

Naomi felt afraid.  Just when she had decided being a little girl was preferable to being adult, her body decided she wouldn’t get a choice.  “Okay.”

 

Seven smoothed the young Ktarian’s hair back from her forehead.  “Let’s go home and see if we can get some sleep,” she kissed Naomi’s hair fondly, wondering how much grief Ktarian adulthood would cause their family unit.

 

______________________

 

B'Elanna Thompson-Torres lay face down on the bed, her mind thick with sleep.  She had had a long day in Engineering, but it looked as if things might quiet down for a spell, and she had celebrated her anticipated break by drinking heavily at Sandrine’s with Tom Paris.  Kieran was, as usual, working Beta shift on the bridge.  For once, her absence was not interfering with B'Elanna’s rest, thanks to the after-effects of alcohol. 

 

For her part, Kieran had been able to complete her daily studies while working on the bridge, since things had been relatively uneventful, and she slipped inside their quarters feeling less exhausted than usual.  She had been thinking about Naomi’s visit to her office earlier in the week, and thought, perhaps, she would try to mend fences with her wife.  She undressed silently, stuffing her uniform through the recycler, then placed the neatly pressed, freshly laundered garment in her closet.  She slid beneath the covers of their bed, totally nude, moving against B'Elanna’s side to try to awaken her as sweetly as possible.  She dropped soft kisses on B'Elanna’s bare shoulders, nuzzling where her tank top left exposed flesh.

 

B'Elanna muttered and turned over toward Kieran, which the Counselor took as a good omen.  She draped her arm over B'Elanna’s hip, caressing B’Elanna’s buttocks through silk panties, trying to ease the slumbering woman into consciousness.  B'Elanna responded by pulling Kieran closer, though she did so from a dream.  Kieran kissed her lips gently, already aroused by the thought of making love to the beautiful Klingon, and pleased that B'Elanna was responding.

 

B'Elanna’s mind emerged from an alcohol fog, vaguely aware of Kieran’s mouth on her own.  Her body conveyed its interest immediately, but B'Elanna blinked drowsily, glanced up at the chronometer, and was simultaneously angered by the middle-of-the-night overture.  Kieran’s hands moved beneath the filmy fabric of B'Elanna’s shirt, but B'Elanna intercepted them and pushed them back out from under the cloth.  “I’m sleeping,” she grumbled grouchily, turning away from Kieran again.

 

Kieran lay there, frozen by the abrupt rejection.  B'Elanna had never, ever denied Kieran sexual access to her body, and the Counselor was stung.  B'Elanna ordinarily loved making love after they had slept a few hours, because then she was refreshed and ready to go, and could afterward fall back asleep even more deeply than before.  Kieran tried to tell herself there was a first time for everything, and it didn’t really hold any significance, but the acid feeling in her stomach meant she had failed to convince herself.   She scooted up behind B'Elanna to spoon her, trying to content herself with being close to her wife, if not sexually intimate.  But B'Elanna snatched Kieran’s hand and removed it from around her waist, shoving it away roughly.

 

Kieran rolled over to sleep on her side, with B'Elanna at the far edge of the mattress.  The distance between them was so vast, she could not even feel the warmth from B'Elanna’s body.  

 

The alarm sounded at an ungodly hour, and Kieran reached up to manually shut it off.  She let her arm fall to the bed, but found that B'Elanna was already up.  She dragged herself from the delicious cocoon of oblivion, only to stand and stare longingly at the covers.  Sleep beckoned like the addictive siren’s song of a drug, and she had to force herself to take a step away from the temptation of her bed toward the ensuite.  The quarters were still and dark, and she thought B'Elanna must have left.  She peeked into the living room, and there was B'Elanna, sound asleep on the couch with a light cotton throw tangled around her legs.

 

Kieran’s heart tugged at her as she realized B'Elanna did not even want to sleep beside her, so rampant was her anger.  Kieran padded over to the couch, kneeling beside her wife.  “Benal,” she whispered softly, “it’s time to get up, honey.”  She touched the silky smoothness of B'Elanna’s cheek, thinking how much she missed the sensation of her wife’s skin against her finger tips.  “Lanna,” she murmured, kissing the subtle ridges of B’Elanna’s forehead.

 

B'Elanna breathed suddenly, sitting up in one fluid motion.  “Did the alarm go off?” she rubbed her eyes and wet her tongue noisily.

 

“Yeah.  Sorry to break the bad news,” Kieran tried for some levity.  “I’m also sorry if I disturbed you last night.”

 

B'Elanna shrugged, pulling the throw from her body and draping it over the back of the couch.  “Work was a bitch yesterday,” she said as an excuse, swinging her legs over the side of the couch and onto the floor.  “Want the ensuite first?”

 

“No, you go ahead,” Kieran replied.  “I’ll get Katie ready.”

 

“That’d be a nice change,” B'Elanna agreed with an edge of resentment.  “Don’t forget her medicine.”

 

Kieran frowned.  “How much longer is she going to be on it?” she asked, feeling completely left out of the loop.

 

“Today is the last dose,” B'Elanna answered as she walked out of the room.  “But then, you’d know that if you ever got up with her,” she added out of earshot.

 

Kieran sighed and went to get their daughter out of her cradle.  “Almost too big for it,” she noted out loud.  “Maybe we should replicate a bigger bed, without rails.” 

 

Katie rolled into Kieran’s embrace, burying her face in the warmth and familiar scent of Kieran’s robe.  “Marmar,” she said brightly, “Katie hundry.”

 

“I know sweetie,” Kieran replied.  “You always are.  Let’s get your breakfast.”

 

“Befast now,” Katie demanded.

 

“Yep.  Right now,” Kieran assured her, carrying her to the kitchen and heading for the replicator.  “Let’s see.  Milk, a banana, and some eggs.  How does that sound?”

 

“Katie wan cookie,” Katie replied hopefully, her soft brown curls bouncing as she nodded emphatically.  “Cookie, Marmar.”

 

“I don’t think so,” Kieran disagreed.  “Okay, let’s get you in your high chair.”

 

Katie munched on her banana, snatched scrambled eggs with her other hand, and stuffed them in her already full mouth, happily devouring everything offered.  Kieran replicated breakfast for B'Elanna and herself, as well.  She was placing the plates on the table when B'Elanna emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped tightly around her.  Kieran felt a tingle, just looking at her wife.

 

“You’re supposed to get her cleaned up and dressed before she eats,” B'Elanna complained.  “Otherwise, she’s too wide awake to get her into her clothes, and she battles the wash cloth.”

 

Kieran fought the urge to snap back.  “I’m sorry.  I’ll get her dressed after I’m out of the shower,” she said contritely.  “But we’d have to wipe her face after she eats, anyway.”

 

“I’ll take care of it.  Let’s eat before it gets cold,” she retorted with no small amount of irritation.

 

“I was just trying to help,” Kieran eased down into her seat, though her breakfast was the last thing she wanted.  “You’re always complaining that I don’t.”

 

B'Elanna cut her ham steak vigorously, still upset.  “Routine is very important with a Klingon child.  Now she’s going to cry every morning for a week because I won’t feed her before she gets dressed,” she added, chewing her meat viciously.

 

Kieran ate her eggs without replying, feeling as if she’d been slapped.  P’Arth used to make her feel this way—worthless and burdensome and stupid beyond words. 

 

B'Elanna was apparently not done with the topic.  “And if I complain that you don’t help with her, it’s because you don’t.  I’ve been up and down with her the past two weeks with this ear infection, and you’ve never gotten up with her once,” she accused.

 

Kieran looked up from her plate.  “Why didn’t you wake me up if you needed help?”

 

B'Elanna was close to shouting.  “What would be the point of waking you up after I’m already awake?  Hell, I might as well do it myself, if she’s already crying so loud I’m up.”

 

Kieran quietly gathered her plate and utensils, getting up from the table.  “I can’t seem to do anything right, anymore, B'Elanna.  I’m sorry I took you at your word that you’d support me while I’m in command training.  I guess you didn’t mean it.”

 

B'Elanna’s eyes flew open wide with indignance.  “I’ve been more than supportive,” she argued hotly.  “It’s been a hell of a long haul, though and I’m worn out.  Pardon me all to hell if I’m getting impatient, but I’d like my life back.”

 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Kieran shot back, angry herself now.  “In fact, why don’t you just go on to work, and leave Katie?  I’ll clean her up, I’ll get her dressed, and I’ll take her to childcare.  You won’t have to be bothered.  Leave your dishes, I’ll recycle them.”

 

“Oh, no, honey,” B'Elanna leapt up from the table, “let me.  It’s only my hundredth time.  It can’t be your turn yet,” she grabbed her plate and threw it into the recycling unit, where it shattered.

 

Katie looked anxiously from one woman to the other and started to cry loudly.  Her mouth, still full of banana, contorted as she wailed.

 

“Great,” B'Elanna threw her hands up.  “Let’s make it a perfect morning,” she stormed into the bedroom to get dressed.

 

Kieran slunk into the ensuite, hung her robe up on the hook beside the stall, and turned the water on as high as it would go.  The steam and spray efficiently washed her tears down her face and into the drain.  She wished more than anything she’d never agreed to command school.  She had thought her marriage was much stronger than this.  She had thought her wife was perfect.  Well, maybe not perfect, but more resilient, at least.   Hadn’t the trials they had been through been much worse than this?   She was baffled at how quickly things had begun to unravel, and she had no idea how to make it stop.

 

_____________

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres sat across the table from her wife, forcing herself to refocus on the staff meeting.  Over the past few days, the couple had barely spoken beyond the absolute minimum communication required to run their household.  Kieran gazed beyond her wife, as Captain Janeway was suggesting that the original committee from Operation Offspring reassemble to discuss the second wave of pregnancies and to do some projections for the impact on ship’s resources.

 

Kieran was having a hard time concentrating today.  B'Elanna had not made eye contact with her once during the meeting.  The distance between them seemed to multiply daily, and it felt to Kieran as if she was staring at her wife across a crevasse of several meters, unable to communicate without shouting.  That was what their interaction had disintegrated into of late: insincere niceties, resentment, and an occasional argument.  Kieran tried to be agreeable, but B'Elanna seemed to want to pick a fight at every opportunity.  Kieran had tried to confront the problem head-on, but B'Elanna would not discuss her disgruntlement over Kieran’s lack of time for their relationship.  Kieran tried to console B'Elanna by assuring her they were coming down the home stretch, that it wouldn’t be much longer until Kieran could take her final exam, but B'Elanna was deeply angry, and Kieran could tell it was roiling beneath the surface of the Klingon’s cold exterior.

 

Seven of Nine cast worried glances in the direction of the two women.  B'Elanna had become increasingly vocal about her dissatisfaction with her mate, confiding in Seven frequently.  Seven was, of course, unfaltering in her objectivity, and it seemed B'Elanna was growing impatient with that, as well.  The Klingon-human woman needed empathy, and Seven, while trying to be consoling, also felt a loyalty to Kieran, and refused to agree with B'Elanna that Kieran was totally to blame for their troubles.  When Seven honestly pointed out to B'Elanna that Kieran had tried to make amends, but B'Elanna was not welcoming to any overtures, B'Elanna had stormed off in a huff, snarling about Borg detachment.

 

B'Elanna found more sympathy when she talked to Tom Paris.  Tom knew that B'Elanna was being unrealistic and unfair in her expectations of Kieran, considering everything Kieran was responsible for on the ship, but he never told B'Elanna that.  B'Elanna had begun to think maybe she had misjudged the helmsman, and that she might have been unjustly rejecting of him in the years since they had broken up.  Other than Seven, Tom was her closest friend.  Harry had just been so withdrawn, B'Elanna couldn’t rely on him at all, and had never mentioned her domestic trials to him. 

 

Kieran had seriously considered dropping out of command school, seeing what her absence was doing to her marriage, but she always came back to the fact that B'Elanna had agreed to this career path for Kieran.  It was not as if B'Elanna had had no voice in the matter.  It angered Kieran that B'Elanna had said ‘go for it’, and now, when the going was tough, she was pouting and acting childish.  Kieran sighed quietly, turned her attention back to the Captain, and gave her preliminary report on the status of the committee members and their availability for the second round of the artificial baby boom.  She loved B'Elanna Torres, but would not give in to her whims if they were unreasonable.  Whatever damage was done, she would repair when she had graduated.  It wasn’t long now.

 

___________

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres requested permission from Captain Janeway to take two hours off between Alpha and Beta shifts, so she could catch up with B’Elanna.  Kathryn had granted the request, sensing the strain between Kieran and B’Elanna, and Kieran had jogged off to find B’Elanna in Engineering.

 

“Hey,” she scrambled through the doors of the huge facility, grabbing B’Elanna’s hands.  “I have a couple of hours.  Can we please talk?” Kieran requested quietly.

 

B’Elanna studied her unenthusiastically.  “Okay.  Is my office good?”

 

“I was thinking our quarters would be better,” Kieran said hopefully.

 

B’Elanna shrugged, leaving Engineering. 

 

Kieran took her hand as they walked along the corridor to the turbo lift.  “I missed you today,” she began.

 

B’Elanna smirked.  “I didn’t think you even notice when I’m not around,” she said sarcastically.

 

“Lanna,” Kieran gave her a reproachful look.  “Just because we’re both swamped with work doesn’t mean I don’t think about you all the time,” she insisted, squeezing B’Elanna’s fingers.

 

“I’ve always been more of an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ kind of gal,” B’Elanna replied, fingers indifferently loose in Kieran’s hand.  “Deck three,” she ordered the lift.

 

Kieran wasn’t sure how to break the ice that seemed to have thickened between them, and she struggled for a bridge to her wife.  “We can’t keep interacting with each other this way, Benal,” she began.  “We’re both busy, we both have a lot of responsibilities, but one of our first responsibilities is to each other,” she reminded her.  “I hate how distant we’ve been,” she took B’Elanna’s hands, her eyes pleading.

 

B’Elanna’s face was impervious, walls firmly in place.  Kieran brushed her lips over B’Elanna’s forehead.  “I love you, Lanna,” she closed her eyes against the hurtfulness of B’Elanna’s cold expression.

 

The turbo lift doors parted, and they made their way down the corridor to their home.

 

Once they were inside their quarters, she pulled B’Elanna up short, taking the compact Klingon into her arms for a heated kiss.  B’Elanna resisted slightly, and Kieran instantly pulled away.

 

“What’s the matter?” she asked, worried.

 

“Nothing,” B’Elanna lied.  “What makes you think there’s anything wrong?” her dark eyes glittered.

 

“Your body language,” Kieran explained.  “Lately, whenever I touch you, it’s like you’d rather not be bothered,” she said honestly.

 

B’Elanna shrugged.  “It’s a little difficult to turn it on and off like a switch, Kieran,” she contended petulantly.  “Most of the time, I’m so pissed at you, I don’t want to be near you at all.  And then, when you can work me into your almighty schedule, you act like I should just put out on demand.”

 

Kieran was bewildered.  “I thought that’s what Klingons were best at.  You’ve told me a million times how Klingon women like to be taken quickly, forcefully, without  prelude,” she pointed out, reaching for B’Elanna’s hair and gathering the soft brown strands roughly in her fingers.  Kieran pulled her head back, revealing her throat, kissing it gently.

 

B’Elanna laughed.  “You think that’s what I meant?” she criticized.  “It’s more like this, BangwIj,” she snatched Kieran’s braid, jerking it so that her head snapped back, and she sank her teeth into Kieran’s throat, drawing blood.  Kieran winced against the lacerating pain and shoved her away, holding her neck.

 

“Damn it, B’Elanna,” she grimaced, feeling the blood trickling through her fingers.  “That hurt.”

 

B’Elanna studied her dispassionately.  “Sorry.  I’ll get the dermal regenerator out of the bedroom,” she murmured, the scent of blood thick in her nostrils.

 

“No, don’t,” Kieran massaged the corded muscles of her neck, easing the injury.  She could see that B’Elanna’s pupils had dilated, signaling interest.  She smeared her own blood on her fingertips, pressing them to B’Elanna’s lips.  “You obviously need this from me,” she followed the thick red liquid with her own lips, kissing her wife fiercely.

 

B’Elanna responded with crushing intensity, her hands suddenly everywhere at once, tearing open Kieran’s uniform,  her fingernails rending the soft flesh of the Counselor’s chest and sides, but as the bloodlust started to usurp her control, she pushed Kieran away abruptly.

 

“I can’t,” she asserted,  rushing into the ensuite to wash the blood from her lips, trying to control the raging lust in her veins.  Her body shook from the surging of her hormones, her hands trembling beneath the cold water.

 

“You can’t?” Kieran followed her, bewildered.  “Why not?”

 

“Because,” B’Elanna reasoned, biting her lip, fighting for restraint,  “the need I have right now is so consuming, you wouldn’t survive it,” she snarled.  “This is for your own safety,” she splashed cold water on her face, trying to gain an edge over her weakness.

 

Kieran reached for her once more, but B’Elanna pushed her hands away.  “I mean it, Kieran,” she warned.   “The way I’m feeling right now, you’d end up getting hurt badly,” she threatened, “much worse than anything P’Arth ever did to you,” she gasped, trying to suppress her desire.

 

“Lanna,” Kieran pleaded softly, “I need to connect with you, Benal. I’ll take the risk, if that’s what you need,” she took the Klingon’s hands in her own. 

 

B’Elanna studied her skeptically.  “I don’t think you understand.  I’m not in a tender, loving space right now, and if you want to take me to bed, I can’t guarantee you won’t end up in sickbay.  What I’m feeling is not--honorable, and it certainly isn’t something I want to share with my wife,” she pulled her hands away, leaning over the sink.  “You’d be a sacrifice to my total lack of restraint,” she closed her eyes against the punishing ache.  “Please, just go away,” she instructed, tone desperate.

 

Kieran stood there, throat running rich with blood, half-tempted to take B’Elanna in her arms and carry her into their bedroom, in spite of B’Elanna’s protests.  But in Kieran’s mind, if B’Elanna said no, that was the bottom line.

 

B’Elanna hovered over the sink, taking deep, calming breaths, hoping Kieran would ignore her objections, pleading inwardly for Kieran to finally assert herself, to overcome the hesitation and claim what was hers.

 

Kieran was torn between what her conscience told her was appropriate, and what she suspected her wife really wanted, but she could not change her fundamental conviction that a woman’s choice was absolute.  She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.   “Would you like to have dinner, then?  Maybe just spend some time together?”

 

B’Elanna grinned ferally.  “I don’t think, in my current state of mind, I’m capable of polite interaction, either.  Go mend that wound, before I lose myself, damn it,” she said hoarsely, still smelling the blood.  The sight of it was driving her mad, and she could still taste its lingering saltiness on her lips.

 

Kieran reluctantly went to their bedroom nightstand, found the medical device, and healed her wound, then went to the kitchen for a paper towel to wash the blood away.  Her uniform front was torn where B’Elanna had pawed at her, soaked with blood from the bite on her neck, and there were scratches on her chest, also bleeding.  She sighed, removed her uniform, and shoved it through the recycler to mend and cleanse it.  While she waited, she used the regenerator on her chest, then put her clothes back on.  She found B’Elanna still in the ensuite.  “Would you rather that I just leave?” she asked softly.

 

“Yes,” B’Elanna replied gruffly, still hanging her head over the sink.

 

“I’ll see you tonight, then,” Kieran swallowed the desire to cry as she turned to go.

 

“Okay,” B’Elanna agreed.

 

The door to their quarters slid open and closed, and B’Elanna collapsed in the floor, slamming her head against the cabinets, screaming her frustration.  Kieran had been so close, for once, to the aggression B’Elanna wanted from her.  She had wanted Kieran to grab her and drag her into the bedroom, and ignore all the proper adherence to boundaries.  She had wanted to be forced, to be ravaged, to be clawed and scratched and bitten and fucked.  She cried in frustration over her inability to vocalize her hidden needs to her wife, but with Kieran’s history of having an abusive relationship with P’Arth, B’Elanna was afraid to ask for those darkest desires.  It had always been enough, before, that they could share bloodlust, but now, she needed more from Kieran.  She pounded her head against the hard surface behind her, tears flooding down her face.  She could still smell blood, still taste it, still feel the rending of flesh in her teeth.  Her need screamed in her veins, drove her to distraction, demanded satisfaction, and there was none to be had.

 

________________

 

Kieran suppressed her hurt feelings, and decided to take the rest of her two hour break, in spite of her failed overtures with her wife.  She went to the mess hall, where everyone from Alpha shift was waiting for dinner to be served.  She stood silently in line, sniffing the air, thinking whatever Neelix was serving didn’t smell half bad.

 

Naomi Wildman spotted Kieran from across the mess hall, determined that the Counselor was clearly distraught, and sidled up beside the her, bumping into her deliberately.  “Oh, excuse me,” she grinned up at her friend.  “Want to have dinner together?”

 

Kieran’s mood improved immediately.  “I’d love that,” she agreed, smiling at her Ktarian friend.  “How have you been, sweetie?”

 

Naomi shrugged.  “Same as always, I suppose.  Dinner smells pretty good.  Neelix made Hungarian Goulash,” she reported, “or some facsimile thereof,” she added, laughing.

 

“How are the piano lessons going?” Kieran smiled warmly at her, pleased that the young woman had broadened her horizons yet again with a new set of skills.

 

“Good.  I’ll play for you sometime. I’m starting to write my own sonatas, in fact,” she confided proudly.

 

“That’s wonderful, Na,” Kieran lay an approving hand on her shoulder.  “Ooops, we’re up,” she stepped up to the serving line, holding out her tray.

 

“Here you go, Counselor,” Neelix slapped a heaping serving spoonful of food onto a plate and handed it to her. “Enjoy,” he smiled at her.

 

“Thanks, Neelix,” she took the plate and slipped it onto her tray.  “Na? I’m going to get some coffee, can I get you a drink?”

 

Naomi nodded.  “Iced tea, please.  Thanks, KT.”

 

The two women settled down at a small table, unfolding napkins and arranging utensils.  Kieran tasted her food, nodding.  “It’s actually quite good,” she sighed gratefully.

 

“Not as good as my own cooking,” Naomi bragged, “but it’s pretty decent.”

 

They chatted about Naomi’s work and school, and Kieran filled her in on command training, passing an hour pleasantly. 

 

Naomi’s face suddenly sank, and she stood up, grabbing Kieran’s arm and lifting it over her head.  “Damn, KT, you’re soaking your uniform with blood,” she murmured.  “We have to get you to sickbay.”

 

Shit,  Kieran realized, I missed one of B’Elanna’s scratches.  She surveyed the damage, noting that the armpit and underside of her sleeve were stained crimson.

 

“You don’t need to come, Na,” she felt embarrassed.  “I’ll see you later,” she tried to rush away.

 

Naomi snatched their trays, recycled them, and ran after Kieran.  “Wait, KT,” she called down the corridor outside the mess hall.  “I’m coming with you.”

 

Kieran looked skyward.  Please just don’t let her figure out why I’m bleeding, she begged silently.  “Okay, but I’m fine,” she reassured her young friend.

 

The EMH scowled when he saw the long scratch from Kieran’s breast to her ribs.  “Really, Counselor,” he shook his head.  “You and B’Elanna need to be more judicious,” he lectured.  “Or at least more thorough in cleaning up the damage afterward.”

 

Naomi’s jaw dropped.  She did a double take, looking at Kieran’s face and at the gouge that ran several inches down her side, but she forced herself not to comment or to ask questions.

 

“Take off your uniform jacket and undershirt,” he offered gently.  “I’ll recycle them so they aren’t ruined,” he took the garments from her.

 

Naomi moved closer to her idol, studying her.  “She--hurts you?” Naomi asked softly, noticing the crescent shaped scars at Kieran’s throat, in addition to the angry, seeping gash in her side.

 

“She doesn’t mean to,” Kieran defended her wife.  “It’s just--Klingons are different than humans, Na.  You’re taking interspecies sexuality.  You know all about their customs.”

 

Naomi’s eyes looked pained and vacant.  “It’s one thing to read about them, but entirely another to--see the after effects.  This is really nasty, KT,” she lifted Kieran’s arm to look at it again.  “That had to hurt awfully badly,” she murmured, her lovely hazel eyes troubled.

 

“Sweetie,” Kieran gathered her into a hug with her good arm, not caring that she had no shirt on.  “Don’t fret over this, okay?  Believe me when I tell you, there is rarely pain involved.”

 

“Are you sure?”  she whispered, seeing the EMH coming back.  “Lately, you’ve both been so--tense with each other,” she pointed out, thinking the wound was possibly abuse and not a result of mating.

 

“I’m sure, honey,” Kieran insisted.

 

“Lift your arm, Counselor,” the EMH instructed, scanning the wound with the regenerator and closing the laceration.  “This will only take a minute.  I want to give you a preventative hypospray, with your permission.  In case there’s a danger of infection,” he explained.

 

“Sure,” Kieran agreed, accustomed to the drill.

 

“All set, then,” the Doctor pressed the hypospray to her throat.  “You’re free to go.”

 

Kieran jumped down off the biobed, putting her uniform top and jacket back on.  “Are you okay, Na?” she asked faintly, taking the slight Ktarian under her freshly healed arm.

 

Naomi swallowed hard.  “I hate the thought of anyone hurting you, Kieran,” she said softly.  “But I hate the idea of you liking it a whole lot more,” she admitted, squeezing the Counselor tightly as they walked.

 

“Baby,” Kieran kissed her hair fondly, “I promise you, I don’t enjoy pain.  And I assure you, I don’t experience pain when I’m with B’Elanna, not usually.  It’s--hard to articulate.  It’s not a physical thing--it’s an emotional thing.  It takes so much for her to show me that part of herself, I just--treasure that she’s willing to be that vulnerable to me,” she explained.  “Hey, I have to go take command of the bridge.  Walk me there?”

 

Naomi smiled up at her.  “Okay.” She gazed adoringly up at her, clearly concerned.  “KT?”

 

“Yeah?” she squeezed her closer.

 

“You’re really okay?” she needed to be absolutely sure.

 

Kieran stopped in the corridor, gathered her into a warm embrace, kissed her forehead lingeringly, and held her for a long while.  “I really am, sweetie.  Please believe me,” she swallowed the lump in her throat.  “I’m touched by your concern, though.”

 

Naomi clung to her, frightened by what she had seen.  “I love you, Kieran,” she lay her cheek against the taller Counselor’s.  “Seeing you bleeding, just--it hurts me.”  She thought about her recurring nightmares, shuddering.

 

“Oh, Na,” Kieran closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of her young friend.  “I love you, too.  Don’t worry so much.”

 

________________

 

 

B'Elanna Thompson-Torres was working her way to a full blown drunken state.  She slumped against the pool table at Sandrine’s, trying to focus her eyes so she could make another shot.  Now that Kieran Thompson-Torres was taking regular shifts at command in the evenings, Tom Paris had been dragging B'Elanna out for periodic respite from motherhood.  He knew getting B'Elanna tipsy gave him a decided advantage in the betting on the games. 

 

Tom could hold his liquor and still manage to shoot more accurate pool than B'Elanna, which he couldn’t fathom, considering her much heartier and more durable Klingon anatomy.  It was an anatomy with which he was all too familiar.  An anatomy he admired and acutely felt the absence of.

 

B'Elanna had stopped dating him a few years previously, and almost immediately took up with then Ensign Kieran Thompson.  B'Elanna and Kieran eventually married, but Tom was convinced the marriage was a mistake B'Elanna would someday regret.  He intended to be there when the recognition and admission came. 

 

Tom had nothing in particular against Kieran; in fact, he truly liked her.  But he sincerely believed the two women had deluded themselves into thinking their relationship would last.  After all, Klingon women needed things to be rough, sometimes, and how could another woman possibly oblige?  Especially Kieran, now the Ship’s Counselor, who Tom considered to be too sensitive and far too gentle, possibly even weak.  It defied reason, in his mind, that B'Elanna could be sexually satisfied by any woman, let alone Kieran.

 

Tom had dated a few women in the time since B'Elanna had left him, but something was always missing.  Call it a spark, an indeterminate something, but whatever it was, it always left Tom wishing he could still be with B'Elanna.  He might have forced himself to forget her; after all, that was the honorable thing to do, and he knew how important honor was to B'Elanna.  But a recent experience on Restid Three had exposed Tom to a life form whose respiratory process created psychotropic inhalants, and Tom had been thrust into a very realistic hallucination in which B'Elanna and Kieran were divorced, and Tom had married B'Elanna. 

 

Despite counseling and medical treatment, Tom was still enchanted by the notion of winning B'Elanna back, and the frequent nights at Sandrine’s were just a part of the long-term campaign.  B'Elanna would probably never have given the man the time of day, but with Kieran in command school and pulling double shifts almost every day, B'Elanna was lonely and feeling entitled to a little fun. 

 

Harry Kim, Tom’s closest friend, had seen right through the sandy-haired helmsman’s scheme, and washed his hands of his friend.  Harry was struggling to stay afloat  himself, and his exposure to the psychotropic cerebrosporum on Restid Three had been a severe setback for the studious, dedicated Lieutenant.  He had no time for Tom’s childishness, which Harry considered an exercise in futility.  Harry and Kieran had been study partners before Harry had to discontinue his command track studies, and they were very good friends.  Harry had first-hand knowledge that the Thompson-Torres’ marriage was a strong and happy one, one he envied considerably.  Tom’s delusions about B'Elanna would be thwarted; of that, Harry was certain.

 

Tom had dismissed Harry’s arguments, too caught up in his own delusions to listen to reason.  As for Harry’s rebuff, Tom figured it would only be a matter of time before Mr. Kim got off his high horse.  Harry needed Tom, as far as Tom was concerned, not vice versa.  If not for him, Harry would never have any fun.  He crossed his arms as he watched B'Elanna, shrugged his thoughts of Harry away, and turned his attention back to the game.

 

B'Elanna lined up her pool cue taking aim at a striped ball, but she was unsteady on her feet, and her shot ripped the felt covering of the table, popped the cue ball off the surface and over the bar, and caused the entire assemblage to erupt in laughter.

 

“Give her another drink,” Sandrine called out to the bartender in her lilting French accent, laughing gaily.  “Computer, mend the pool table surface,” she added.  “Tommy,” she hollered, “maybe you should take her home, no?”

 

The comment was followed by numerous catcalls.  “I’ll take her home, Tommy-boy,” one holographic drunk declared.

 

“Let a real man have a go, Tommy!” another shouted.

 

B'Elanna growled under her breath.  “What a bunch of pigs,” she commented to Tom.  “These people are your friends?”

 

Tom snorted.  “Hardly.  They’re part of the program.  I can delete them, if you like,” he offered.

 

“Be my guest,” B'Elanna bit her words off. 

 

Tom gave the computer several commands, and they were alone, except for the real crewmembers and the holographic wait staff.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.  So how are things at the ole homestead?” he asked.

 

It had become his role in B'Elanna’s life, the supportive, understanding friend who listened to her gripes and helpfully pointed out all of Kieran’s failings.  He was always careful not to go too far, but more than once, he had goaded B'Elanna into a tirade of complaints, and more than once, she had gone home angry and malcontented.

 

“Is Katie feeling better?” he asked when B'Elanna didn’t answer.

 

“She seems to be,” B'Elanna replied, concentrating on her shot.  “I don’t know what it is with kids, but they seem to always get ear infections.  There’s nothing worse than a fussy Klingon baby.  She makes sure if she’s miserable, the wealth gets spread to everyone,” B'Elanna reported.  “Of course, Kieran comes home after a double shift and is so tired, she can’t even hear Katie when she cries.  I’ll be glad when she’s done with school and it can be her turn to get up at two a.m.”

 

Tom nursed his beer, nodding.  “Must be aggravating,” he fueled her ire.

 

“I think, sometimes, she’s not really asleep, she’s just ignoring Katie, hoping I’ll get up,” B'Elanna admitted.

 

Tom chuckled.  “I hear the same complaints from the women who married men,” he pointed out helpfully.  “I thought it was supposed to be better with two women.”

 

B'Elanna scowled, knocking back the remainder of her beer.  “I thought so, too,” she complained. “I guess it’s no different.”

 

Tom smiled innocently.  “Oh, I imagine there are a few things that are different,” he oozed innuendo.

 

B'Elanna laughed at his tone.  “Yeah, a few things,” she agreed.  “I see your mind is in the gutter, per usual.”

 

Tom shrugged.  “It’s a guy thing.  You remember,” he said pointedly, his tone dropping to an intimate one.  “We’re always thinking about it, always ready to do it, always ready to do it again as soon as we’ve done it,” he confessed.

 

B'Elanna felt a thrill shoot through her at his words, as she did, indeed, remember.  For all her discontent about the relationship she had shared with Tom, sex had never been a problem.  He had always accommodated B’Elanna’s frequent urges, and it had been the one aspect of their union she could not fault.  Kieran’s pitiful attempt earlier in the evening to approach B’Elanna in the midst of raging bloodlust had only heightened the Klingon’s need.

 

That was one thing she had to concede about men.  Nothing took priority over sex—not food, not sleep, not anything. With Kieran, it was important, but it wasn’t always in the top three priorities, like it was with every guy B'Elanna had ever known.  And although Kieran had tried more than once to initiate sex over the last week, B'Elanna had been too stubborn to give in to the desire, cherishing her resentment at the absence of her wife, and punishing Kieran for it. 

 

She finally snapped back to the conversation.  “It’d be different if you had a kid, Tom.  It’s pretty tough to stay in the mood once they start to cry,” she confided.

 

“Really?  That’s funny.  Ken Perry was telling me the other day that he and his wife just let Susanna cry and they go right on about their business.  He said otherwise, they’d never get to finish,” Tom reported, feeling a stirring in his groin as he pictured Ken, thrusting on top of his wife.

 

B'Elanna found herself imagining having sex while Katie squalled.  She pictured it with Kieran, and knew immediately Kieran would get up and check on the baby.  She thought about Tom, and knew he’d be able to block out everything, that he would never hesitate to enter her, take her, finish her, all while Katie would go right on crying.  She considered several other men she had been with, and decided Tom was right.  It was a guy thing.

 

“You’re blushing,” Tom moved closer to her, leaning down.  “What are you thinking?”

 

B'Elanna swatted him.  “What do you think, Flyboy?  Your shot.  And change the subject.”

 

Tom grinned, satisfied with himself.  The seeds were being planted, one by one.

____________

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres shifted restlessly in the command chair, anxious for Gamma shift to report.  She had had a full slate of patients on Alpha shift, and practicing at commanding Voyager on Beta shift made for a very long day, not to mention the torment and weariness of being rejected yet again by her wife.  She tried to read her text on Battle Tactics, but the words swam before her weary eyes.  She was afraid if she didn’t walk around, she might doze off. 

 

A few more weeks, and she’d be ready to test.  Starfleet’s standards since the Dominion War had been too lax, and in an effort to remedy the tendency to promote anyone remotely qualified, Starfleet had instituted new mandatory testing for all command candidates.  The Bridge Officer’s exam was more like an entrance exam for the real thing, now. 

 

Kieran rested her chin in her hand.  The BO exam hadn’t exactly been a cake walk. She dreaded the final.  There had been rumors circulating for months among the programming staff that the test was brutal, even inhumane.  The medical monitoring for the exam gave more than a few people pause.  And it was common knowledge that the program was full of bugs that the staff kept having to eradicate.  Even Seven of Nine had complained on occasion that the code was simply not stable, and could lead to serious repercussions if it wasn’t perfected before the exams were administered.

 

Kieran inadvertently sighed, thinking about Harry.  He had worked so hard, and now he wouldn’t be able to test, because he hadn’t been able to resume his studies after the incident on Restid Three.  What bothered Kieran more was the fact that Harry just didn’t seem to care.  He was almost completely unreachable.  Kieran strongly doubted he’d ever emerge from it on his own, despite her efforts.  She had never had a client so depressed.  She hated to do it, but she was going to have to mandate pharmacological anti-depressant therapy for the young Lieutenant.  He would be madder than hell, she knew, but it was the only thing left to try.  Clearly, he was not going to come out of the blue funk through counseling alone, and technically, she had waited longer than she should have to put him on medication.  She had procrastinated because she knew how Harry would react.  But then, she considered, maybe getting him pissed off might be some sort of impetus for him to get better.  Hell, I’d shave my head if I thought it would motivate him.

 

Kieran shifted her weight again, smacking her own face to revitalize herself.  She missed B'Elanna.  She wanted nothing more than a quiet dinner with her wife, a nice long bath, and eight blissful hours of uninterrupted sleep.  Instead, she usually had to eat dinner on the bridge, take a sonic shower to save time in the morning, and study for two hours before she could fall into bed and sleep four hours.  Then the grind began all over again.  It was madness. 

 

And B'Elanna felt like the enemy, lately, with both of them on the verge of hostility all the time.  B'Elanna was so terse, Kieran could hardly stand to speak to her.  Kieran had tried to reach out on more than one occasion, only to have her attempts thwarted by an angry glare or a sarcastic retort.  Tonight was only further evidence of how out of step they were with each other.  Hindsight being what it is, Kieran realized, she had, as usual, not done what B’Elanna wanted her to do.  She should have ignored the warnings and her own convictions, and taken her wife to bed, which is exactly what a Klingon would expect.  B’Elanna had wanted to be pushed, to be conquered, and Kieran had walked away, instead of being the aggressor B’Elanna clearly needed her to be.  She knew if she walked away from command school right then and there, the marriage could be salvaged.  Yet she was indignant that she needed to sacrifice one for the other.

 

Kieran wondered when things had gotten so out of hand, when command school had become more important than her marriage.  She recalled a time when she and Harry had been studying, and B'Elanna had made a complaint about never seeing her.  She had immediately offered to quit school, if B'Elanna was unhappy.  B'Elanna had declined.

 

B'Elanna jostled the baby to keep her entertained. "You wanted to do this, BangwIj, and you knew it would take most of your time, so don’t whine about it. Besides, I’m the one who should be upset--I never see you anymore."

 

"Sure you do, honey—you see me as I’m walking out the door, you see me when I’m coming in to sleep for my requisite four hours a night, and you see me in staff meetings," Kieran said sarcastically.

 

B'Elanna couldn’t even force a smile, but said sadly "And that’s just about it."

 

Kieran stood and wrapped her wife in her long arms. "I’m sorry, Lanna. Do you want me to quit? I will, you know that."

 

"No. You’ve worked too hard. It won’t be much longer. I can wait. And I will admit, you still find time to help with Katie and to spend quality time with her."

 

When had her willingness to sacrifice her hard work disappeared?  Kieran couldn’t remember.  She only knew that she resented B'Elanna’s lack of continuing support as much as B'Elanna resented her continued absence from home.  Yet if Kieran offered again to quit, would B'Elanna insist that she finish?  Was it some sort of test to see if Kieran would be willing to drop everything because B'Elanna wanted her to?  Kieran reflected on her past relationships, realizing that she had always been the one to give in, always been the one to apologize first, and had never stood up for the things she wanted.  Despite all of her flexibility, her relationships had failed miserably.  As much as she loved B'Elanna, and as deeply as she wanted the marriage to work, this simply felt like it was too important to knuckle under, and it felt like B'Elanna was being selfish to expect Kieran to drop out of school. 

 

Kieran leaned her head against the command chair, gazing at the ceiling.  This hadn’t been something she had undertaken just for herself.  It was for their future.  She fully believed they would be home before anyone knew it, and she would need to be ready to assume the First Officer’s post on Kathryn’s next ship.  Chakotay was clearly tired of the job, and if they found themselves back in the Alpha Quadrant tomorrow, he’d never go near Starfleet again. 

 

The only way the Hansen-Janeways and the Thompson-Torreses could stay together was if they ended up on the same ship again.  That had always been at the heart of Kieran’s motives.  Of course, there was also the fact that Kieran wanted to follow the career path Kathryn had laid before her, because she had faith in Kathryn’s vision of her, and because she loved the woman dearly.  If she were to quit at this juncture, Kathryn would be livid, and Kieran would never hear the end of it.

 

Maybe B'Elanna doesn’t believe we’re ever going to get home.  Maybe she’s lost her faith in our mission and this whole career path seems like a pipedream to her. Kieran frowned.  Some counselor I am, if I can’t even anticipate and assist my own family in dealing with their problems.  Is that what’s bothering her?  She thinks I’ll never put my training to practical use?  She can’t see a future beyond the Delta Quadrant?

 

Beta shift was accustomed to having lower ranking officers in the big chair, since Captain Janeway worked the Alpha shift.  On a rare occasion, the Captain dropped by early in the shift to make sure things were running smoothly, but only on red alert was she out and about after nine p.m.  When the Captain appeared on the upper deck of the bridge, the ops officer nearly tripped over himself to get to attention.

 

“Captain on the bridge!” he called out. 

 

It was a formality the Alpha shift never bothered with.  Janeway hid her amusement, however, since it was protocol. 

 

“At ease everyone,” she urged the strident young crew.  “Counselor,” she approached Kieran, “how goes it?”

 

“Fine, Captain,” Kieran replied, hoping she looked semi-alert.  “Can I do something for you?”

 

“Yes,” Janeway decided.  “Come to my ready room.  Ensign?” she glanced at the Ops officer.  “You have the bridge.”

 

He nearly choked, but made his way down to the lower level.

 

“I need a drink,” Kathryn strode to the replicator.  “How about you?”

 

Kieran frowned.  “I’m on duty, Captain.”

 

“So you are,” Kathryn agreed.  “Sorry.  I’ve got a load on my mind tonight.”

 

Kieran started.  “Don’t tell me you’re actually seeking me out in my capacity as Ship’s Counselor?” 

 

Janeway smirked. “I do need to speak to you, but not in your capacity as Ship’s Counselor,” Kathryn retrieved the whiskey and soda from the replicator tray.

 

“Okay.  I’m all ears,” Kieran took a seat.

 

Kathryn took a deep breath before slugging back a hearty amount of alcohol.  She thought better of the setting, held out her hand to Kieran, and drew her upstairs to the couch on the upper level of the ready room.  “Look, there’s just no easy way to say this, Kato, so I’m just going to say it.  Is everything okay with you and B'Elanna?”

 

It was the last question Kieran was expecting.  “Yes.  Why?” she asked nervously, wondering what in the world was going on.  “I mean, things have been pretty strained between us lately, but it’s just because Lanna feels neglected,” she explained.

 

Kathryn’s mouth was set in a grim, hard line, one that connoted disapproval in the extreme. “Seven and I had dinner at Sandrine’s, tonight.  B'Elanna was there with Tom Paris.”

 

Kieran exhaled audibly.  “Oh, that.  I’ve encouraged her to go out and play some pool, blow off some steam.  There’s no reason why they can’t be good friends, just because they used to be lovers.”

 

“No,” Kathryn insisted.  “Seven and I watched them for a long time, Kato.  This was not just two friends playing pool.  This was two boozing adults, flirting with each other, hanging all over each other—it was like watching a couple of hormonal teenagers,” Kathryn stated with disgust.  “I was so angry Seven had to restrain me.”

 

Kieran’s face registered humiliation and hurt.  “They were actually—what?  Kissing?”

 

Kathryn shook her head.  “Nothing that blatant.  It was more subtle,” she related distastefully.  “Tom would come up behind B'Elanna and help her with her shot, just pressing up against her, but it was clearly suggestive.  I don’t know.  Maybe she wasn’t cognizant of it, because she had had a lot to drink, but their body language was screaming out loud.”

 

Kieran digested this bit of information.  “How long ago did you leave?”

 

“Maybe twenty minutes.  They were just starting up another game,” Kathryn reported, steel gray eyes intent on Kieran’s dark brown ones.

 

“I’m on duty,” Kieran repeated pointedly, “for another hour.”

 

“I’ll let the bridge crew know you’re gone for the evening.  Do you want me to come with you?”

 

Kieran nodded.  “Maybe you better.  You may have to restrain me.”

 

__________

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres and Kathryn Janeway watched from the shadows of Chez Sandrine as Tom Paris put his arm around B'Elanna Thompson-Torres for the fifth time in as many minutes.

 

“Kathryn,” Kieran said under her breath, “I can’t jump all over her for that.  You and I touch each other like that, sometimes,” she protested.

 

“Not like that we don’t,” Kathryn argued, nodding in the direction of the pair under surveillance as Tom pressed firmly against B'Elanna’s buttocks while she leaned over the table.  He held her hips in his hands, moving suggestively against her ass.  B’Elanna turned in toward him, and they started kissing each other.  Tom lifted her up on the table, pressed between her thighs, and kissed her deeply, moving as if they were having intercourse.  B’Elanna wrapped her legs around him roughly, pulling him into her.

 

“Okay,” Kieran growled.  “We don’t touch like that.  But this is my fault.  I’ll handle it.  You can go ahead home, Kat.  Really.”

 

Kathryn nodded.  “Okay, but I’d better not get hailed by security to scrape Tom’s carcass off the holodeck floor.”

 

“You won’t,” Kieran promised, making a cross over her heart. 

 

B’Elanna suddenly had a lucid moment and pushed Tom away, bewildered.  He stepped back, letting her slide down off the pool table, but held her gaze with smoldering intensity.

 

After Kathryn had left the bar, muttering and shaking her head, Kieran straightened her tunic, took a deep breath, and approached her wife.  “Hi guys,” she said casually as she walked up.  “Who’s winning?”

 

Tom jumped away from B'Elanna, who was oblivious to the fact that he was suddenly squirming.  “Right now, I am,” Tom recovered slightly.  “But if you’re off duty, we can call it a night.  Lanna is pretty far gone,” he confided.

 

Kieran smiled sweetly.  “I can see that.  Benal,” she deliberately used the endearment that means “honored wife”, “would you like to go home?”

 

B'Elanna gave her a lopsided grin.  “What’s the occasion?” she wondered, too inebriated to remember to be defensive.

 

“Kathryn found me almost snoring on the bridge, so she let me leave early,” Kieran fibbed.  “Come on,” she said more firmly, taking B'Elanna’s arm.

 

“G’night, flyboy,” B'Elanna called out as they retreated.  “See you around.”

 

“Good-night ladies,” he returned pleasantly, but under his breath he swore soundly.

 

___________

 

B'Elanna passed out almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, and Kieran tucked her in, watching her sleep.  I’ve been neglecting her. And I got her all worked up earlier, and then left her hanging.  She’s lonely and probably frustrated.  I can’t remember the last time we made love—before Restid Three?  Kieran wasn’t sure.  How can I blame her when I denied her the one thing she so desperately needed--something Tom would give her at a moment’s notice?  Kieran kissed B’Elanna’s forehead, feeling responsible for the incident with Tom.

 

She padded down the hall to check on Katie, who was sucking her mocha colored fist and sleeping soundly.  Neelix hadn’t minded that B'Elanna had once again left Katie in childcare far past a decent hour.  He made polite excuses for the Chief Engineer, claiming she’d been under a lot of pressure, saying she needed a break.  Kieran appreciated his generous lies.  Engineering had been running smoothly and without stress for several days, as if the system failures had relented as suddenly as they seemed to cyclically appear.  She knew because she had to read all the departmental reports when she took the bridge every night, and B’Elanna was not just blowing off steam from work. 

 

Clearly, B'Elanna’s problem was Kieran, but the lanky Ship’s Counselor didn’t know how to fix it, and just hoped they would work it out eventually.  She’d confront B'Elanna in the morning, once they’d both slept.  Kieran dropped a soft kiss on Katie’s forehead, sighing wearily.  She decided to forego studying for one night. 

 

She stripped off her clothes and crawled into bed, asleep before she could set the chronometer to wake her up at a reasonable hour.  The omission nagged at the back of her brain, but exhaustion won out over responsible behavior, and the alarm was never programmed.

_________________

 

“God damn it!” B'Elanna awoke with the sudden realization that she was late for work, coupled with the instantaneous recognition that she was horribly hung over.  She threw back the covers, reaching for her wife.  “Kieran, wake up.  We overslept,” she barked, shaking her shoulder roughly before running for the sonic shower. 

 

She set the shower for a 15 second pulse, letting it shake the dead cells from her skin, snatched a clean uniform, jerked it on and ran to get Katie.  “Kieran, get up!” she shouted.

 

“I’m up, I’m up,” Kieran mumbled, grinding her fists into her eyes.  She saw the chronometer and swore.  “Aw shit, that’s what I forgot to do.  Fuck me!” she snarled at herself, hopping into the shower.  “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she chastised herself as the sonic shower sanitized her body.  She went to the closet and found no clean uniforms.  She shoved last night’s through the recycler and tugged it on, lunging for her boots.  She yanked her large feet into them and jogged down the hall to get Katie.

 

“I’ve got her,” B'Elanna announced impatiently.  “Why didn’t you set the alarm?” she accused.

 

Kieran started as if B'Elanna had slapped her.  “Me?  Why didn’t you?  Oh, that’s right, you didn’t do it because you were too drunk to remember.  I had to go to Sandrine’s to help you get home.  Of course, that was right after I made Tom Paris take his dick out of your ass.”

 

B'Elanna shoved by Kieran and grabbed the diaper bag.  “What are you talking about?” she grumbled.

 

Kieran was furious now.  “I’m talking about you and Tom getting drunk and practically doing each other in front of everybody,” she shouted.  “You didn’t want me last night, but you sure as hell wanted him,” she snarled at her wife.

 

“You’re full of shit,” B'Elanna hissed at her partner, stuffing toys and baby supplies into the bag.  “We were playing pool.  That’s all.”

 

“Oh really?  Since when does your opponent need to shove his hips up against your ass while you shoot? There was enough wood in his pants to build a fucking screened-in-porch, B'Elanna,” she accused.  “And unless the ball was lodged in the back of your throat, then tell me why he had his tongue in your mouth?” she shouted angrily.

 

“Well isn’t it nice of you to notice my ass at all!” B'Elanna shouted back. “I don’t have time for this, Kieran.  Tell you what,” she snarled as she left their quarters.  “Why don’t you pencil me in for two in the morning, and we can continue this little spat?”

 

Kieran stood there alone, clenching and unclenching her fists, all the blood draining from her face.  She stormed out the door and to her office, more angry than she could remember being in a very long time.

________________

 

“Where does she get off?” B'Elanna demanded hotly, tossing the spanner she was using onto a work table, the alloy clattering gratingly.  Half the department turned to look at her, but quickly cut their eyes back to their work before B'Elanna could notice them staring.

 

Seven of Nine allowed B'Elanna to vent awhile longer, waiting patiently for the opportunity to reason with her friend.  When B'Elanna had spent at least some of her anger, Seven folded her hands and asked “May I say something?”

 

B'Elanna looked up expectantly.  “What?”

 

Seven began quietly, with carefully selected words.  “Kathryn and I had dinner at Sandrine’s last night.”

 

B'Elanna registered excitement.  “That’s great!  Then you can back me up.  You can tell Kieran that she’s full of shit.”

 

Seven of Nine didn’t reply.

 

B'Elanna waited for confirmation, and seeing none was forthcoming, asked “She is full of shit, isn’t she Seven?”

 

“I’m afraid your behavior was--questionable,” Seven advised, her eyes showing her distress.

 

B'Elanna scowled.  “Questionable?  From the look on your face, I’d say you mean more like abominable.”

 

“The latter, I would have to say,” Seven replied objectively.  “I had to stop Kathryn from causing bodily injury to Tom Paris.”

 

B'Elanna’s eyes widened.  Kathryn Janeway never, ever got involved in the personal lives of her crew.  “God, are you serious?”  B'Elanna asked.  Then as if no one were there, she muttered “Of course you’re serious, you’re always serious.”  She wrung her hands distractedly.  “Really, really abominable?”

 

Seven frowned regretfully.  “I believe Kathryn described your behavior as ‘two drinks short of fucking on the pool table.’  But not for lack of effort on Mr. Paris’ part,” she added sarcastically.

 

B'Elanna looked horror stricken.  “I was drunk.  I don’t remember.  Kahless’ balls, why would I act like that?  I love Kieran.”

 

Seven lay a consoling hand on B'Elanna’s shoulder.  “My Borg-enhanced hearing allowed me to overhear a good deal of your interaction with Mr. Paris.”  Seven waited for that revelation to sink in.

 

“And?” B'Elanna prompted the towering Borg.

 

“Mr. Paris was not intoxicated.  Of that, I am certain.  Furthermore, he was manipulating you.  He steered your conversation repeatedly to your—difficulties—with Kieran, and when you excused her for some imagined flaw, he would skillfully maneuver the conversation back to that very point until you were clearly angry about it.  Then he would express sympathy, to which you responded by becoming more physically engaging with him.”

 

“Do you think he was doing it consciously?” B'Elanna asked angrily.

 

Seven nodded.  “I am positive that he was.”

 

B'Elanna reclaimed the spanner, thinking as she turned it in her hands.  “Kieran was so pissed this morning.  She’s never been that angry before, Seven.  She’s never talked to me like that.  What do I do now?”

 

“Apologize and hope she can forgive you,” Seven instantly supplied.

 

B'Elanna was frightened now.  “If you were Kieran, would you forgive me?” she asked meekly.

 

Seven considered momentarily.  “Probably not,” she answered honestly.  “I’m sorry, B'Elanna.”

 

B'Elanna buried her face in her hands.  “Holy Kahless, Seven, why didn’t you stop me?”

 

Seven shook her head.  “I don’t know.  I wish I had, B'Elanna, truly.  But I was so shocked, I think I was paralyzed by it.”  Seven patted B'Elanna’s back, soothing her only marginally.  “Kieran is much more forgiving than I am, though,” she added hopefully.

 

B'Elanna swallowed hard.  “She didn’t seem forgiving this morning,” she replied miserably.

_______________

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres had to remind herself to take copious notes during her morning appointments just to make herself pay attention to her clients.  The morning dragged in a way it never had before, and she found herself wishing she could take back all the awful things she had said to B'Elanna.  But then she would flash back on Tom Paris rubbing up against B'Elanna’s back side, or on his hands all over her as he crammed his tongue down her throat, and the regret would rekindle into fierce anger.  She wouldn’t go to bed with me, but she let that bastard practically fuck her in public.

 

Now, in between appointments, she brooded over the situation, long legs outstretched in her chair and boots resting on the desktop.  She stared at the lights overhead, fingers laced behind her head, much more miserable than her body language indicated.

 

The strange thing, Kieran observed, was that she had been completely prepared to forgive B'Elanna and forget the whole thing.  At least, she fell asleep thinking it was not a relationship-threatening problem.  Did something happen in her dreams to make her so angry that she ended up screaming at B'Elanna over it?  Or was it just the fact that B'Elanna woke up angry with Kieran over not setting the alarm, and so Kieran got angry right back?  Whatever the reason, Kieran was good and angry now, and not ready to let it go as if it were nothing.

 

What upset Kieran most, she realized, wasn’t that B'Elanna had so publicly embarrassed herself and Kieran.  It was more that B'Elanna needed to be intimate with Tom Paris, and apparently needed it so badly, that she didn’t care who saw her behaving that way. Whether it was strictly physical contact B'Elanna needed, or specifically, sexual contact, Kieran couldn’t say. Nor could she claim to know if any warm body would have sufficed, or if it was Tom Paris’ warm body in particular that B'Elanna had needed.  And that was truly the crux of the issue, Kieran realized.  Not just B’Elanna’s emotional or sexual deprivation, not even that B’Elanna might miss Tom Paris, but the fact that B’Elanna had sought out contact with a man.

 

The incident forced one of Kieran’s sharpest fears to surface. B'Elanna Torres had never shown any interest in women until Kieran Thompson came crashing into her life.  Prior to their dating, B'Elanna had only been with men, and even after Kieran had captured her heart, B'Elanna had never embraced or advocated a woman-centric philosophy of life.  It was as if she had made an exception for Kieran, and somehow loved her in spite of her gender, rather than because of it.  If there were aspects of a heterosexual coupling that B'Elanna missed, she had never said so, but Kieran had never asked, either.  She worried that secretly, B'Elanna had needs and desires that no woman could fulfill.  Kieran couldn’t recall precisely when she had begun to dread that there would come a day when B'Elanna would assert her need to be with a man again.  Clearly, that day had come.

 

It was a gray area for every lesbian who loved a woman that had loved a man.  The question became one of sexual identity, and Kieran seriously doubted that a true bisexual could ever be satisfied in a monogamous relationship with one gender.  It seemed logical to her that if B'Elanna was truly bisexual, B'Elanna would necessarily feel like something was missing in any monogamous relationship.  Kieran loved B'Elanna Torres with all her heart, and had given herself over to that love freely and without hesitation.  She would never knowingly deprive B'Elanna of something she needed to be happy.  But she also could not tolerate the thought of B'Elanna sleeping with someone else, especially not a man.  It defied her values and her sense of propriety, and truth be told, Kieran was not self-assured enough to deal with that sort of intrusion into their relationship.  If B'Elanna was bisexual, then she would have to find a female partner that could share her without possessiveness, and that partner would not be Kieran Thompson.  And it wasn’t the first time Kieran had confronted this particular issue.

 

Sadly, Kieran had to admit to herself that she’d recognized the bottom line.  Kieran could not, would not, agree to an open marriage.  She would lose B'Elanna completely before she would subject herself to that kind of torture.  However petty and jealous it was, Kieran would accept her own character limitations in that regard.  She was not self-confident enough or an unselfish enough person to endure a nonmonogamous relationship.  But she wouldn’t ask B'Elanna to deny herself something she needed to be whole.  It was in that moment that Kieran understood she wanted, in fact, demanded, that her partner be a lesbian.  And B'Elanna was not.  Historically, B'Elanna Torres had been heterosexual; her relationship with Kieran had been the deviation from the norm.  And now it was apparent that the relationship had failed to meet B'Elanna’s needs.

 

How could she not have considered this in depth before they married?  How had it never occurred to her in the time they were dating that B'Elanna had requirements of a partner Kieran could never fulfill?  How could it never have occurred to B'Elanna, for that matter?  Kieran tried hard to think back to that time.  They were partly swept up in the chemistry of falling in love, partly blinded by the strong desire to believe things would always feel as perfect as they had in those early days.  Their relationship had been blazingly intense from the outset, partly because Kieran was almost killed on their first date, and that trauma just brought everything into immediate focus for the young couple.  It lent an edge of desperation to their interaction.

 

B'Elanna had been the one to propose to Kieran, and so Kieran had felt safe in trusting B'Elanna had chosen a woman and therefore, wanted a woman.  Then B'Elanna got pregnant, and the relationship took on a whole new identity.  The question of B'Elanna’s sexuality had never even meandered through Kieran’s mind, up to that point.  

 

She tried to put her finger on the origin of the doubt about B'Elanna’s sexual identity.  If it hadn’t bothered her in the early days of their relationship, when had it become a gnawing dread?  It had been plaguing her for some time now, but she couldn’t remember the first time it had been of concern.  Then it dawned on her.  Kathryn Janeway had expressed her fears for Kieran’s well being when Janeway discovered that the Thompson-Torreses kept a dermal regenerator in their quarters.  Kieran had tried to allay Kathryn’s concerns by disclosing some of the details of her sexual relationship with B'Elanna.  She had tried to reassure Kathryn that although a Klingon lover was aggressive, there was less violence involved than Kathryn feared. 

 

It was shortly thereafter that Kieran had begun to ask herself if perhaps, there were things B'Elanna might want that Kieran could simply not supply.  She began to question whether her humanness might be an obstacle, since by nature, her approach to sex was from a space of vulnerability and tenderness, while B'Elanna sometimes came from a more aggressive mind-set.  B'Elanna had never expressed any dissatisfaction with the method or tone of their sexual relationship, but talking about it with Kathryn had made Kieran start to wonder if she fell short of what B'Elanna essentially needed.  What if B'Elanna wanted more aggression than Kieran could endure?  And who would be better suited to supply aggression, bordering actual violence, than a man?  That was how the thought process had begun.

 

Last night Kieran had gone to B’Elanna, tried to coax her into bed, only to have B’Elanna nearly rip her throat out, and then turn her away saying Kieran couldn’t endure what B’Elanna wanted to do to her.  That was when the fear had become full blown in Kieran’s mind.  Kieran knew on some level, even as B’Elanna was telling her to go away and not take the risk of a sexual encounter when the Klingon was in the worst throes of bloodlust, that B’Elanna had wanted Kieran to force herself on her.  She knew that the Klingon had hoped Kieran would ignore her refusal and take her wife roughly despite B’Elanna’s protests.  But Kieran’s conditioning had been too strong, and she could not ignore B’Elanna’s lack of consent.

 

Now, in the aftermath of that interaction, more than her humanness, Kieran feared that her femaleness might be the most pertinent factor in their long-term happiness. Femaleness, in Kieran’s case, meant a decided lack of aggression, and an aversion to violence.  It meant empowering women to make their own choices and to vocalize their choices.  It did not entail taking away another woman’s power by forcing her to have sex.  There were probably some women who could do that to B’Elanna, and certainly, many men could.  And more than likely, B’Elanna was beginning to realize that a man could deliver aggression, accommodate bloodlust, and usurp her control without any confounding boundaries over consent and lack thereof.

 

Kieran squeezed the bridge of her nose, squelching the tears that threatened at the corners of her eyes.  If B'Elanna wanted a lover that could ignore her when she said “no”, that lover was not Kieran Thompson.  And if B’Elanna wanted a man, Kieran could do nothing to change that desire, or to fulfill it.

 

Kieran would have no choice but to let B'Elanna go.

 

_______________

 

Captain Kathryn Janeway stopped by her Ship’s Counselor’s office at least twice weekly, more often if she could spare the time.  Kathryn had spent a good deal of energy worrying about her closest friend, and a good deal more resisting the urge to track down Tom Paris and kick his ass.  She couldn’t really blame Tom, however; it was B'Elanna she was most furious with.  But Kathryn didn’t have the luxury of being angry with B’Elanna.  She had to maintain her objectivity.

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres worked harder than anyone in Janeway’s crew, and although the young woman was spread ridiculously thin, Kathryn thought she carried out her duties admirably on all fronts.  Kathryn could not fathom how  B'Elanna could be so callous to Kieran’s feelings, or how she could carry on so blatantly with Tom Paris.  Kieran had looked so wounded, it cut Kathryn to the quick. Knowing that Kieran’s standard reaction to trouble was to stop eating, Kathryn went to see the Counselor, armed with a basket lunch.

 

Kathryn entered the waiting area of Kieran’s office, leaning around the wall to see if the inner office door was closed.  Kieran was staring vacantly into nothing, face propped up on her hand.

 

“Kato?” Kathryn asked quietly.

 

“Oh, hi, Kat.  Come on in,” she motioned the older woman to a chair.  “I’m between clients right now.”

 

“I know, I checked your schedule.  I also doubted you’d bother to eat lunch, so I thought I’d make it an order,” she smiled warmly and deposited the basket on the large desk.

 

“That was sweet of you,” Kieran returned the smile.  “Wow, look at this,” she whistled appreciatively.  “I love crab cakes.  You must have blown a ton of rations on this, Kat.  Thank you.”

 

Kathryn dipped her head.  “My pleasure.  How are you holding up?”

 

Kieran shrugged, serving them both plates heaped with cole slaw, fries and the little fried patties.  “B'Elanna and I had a screaming match this morning.  I think I won, in terms of sheer volume,” she noted flippantly.

 

“Did you get it out of your system?” Kathryn asked hopefully through a mouthful of food.

 

“Who knows?  I don’t think it’s that simple, Kat.” Kieran ate without relish, preoccupied with her own thoughts.  “Do you remember when we talked about how B'Elanna and I get pretty rowdy in bed?”

 

Kathryn nodded, trying not to balk at the bluntness of the question.

 

“I’ve been thinking ever since then that maybe I’m just not rowdy enough for her.  Maybe what she needs is a man,” Kieran opined, forcing herself to eat the food before her.

 

“Oh, Kato, I don’t think that’s it at all,” Kathryn protested, face alarmed.  “B'Elanna loves you.  She just—”

 

“Just what?  Forgot about me for a couple of hours?  I think it’s more than that.  I don’t know.  You tell me.  Seven is your first female lover, right?” Kieran asked, studying Kathryn’s face.   Kathryn nodded.  “Well, do you ever find yourself thinking about men?” Kieran inquired.

 

“Never,” Kathryn replied without pause, her tone so resolute that her auburn hair swayed as her mouth snapped closed. 

 

“Do you consider yourself a lesbian?” Kieran munched on her fries, waving one at the Captain.

 

“I consider myself married to a woman,” she replied thoughtfully.  She shrugged.  “I’m having a lesbian relationship.  But I don’t really think of myself as a lesbian.  I don’t think I really put labels on things like that.  Do you?”

 

Kieran nodded.  “I’ve never considered myself to be anything but a lesbian.  B'Elanna, on the other hand, probably thinks of herself as heterosexual.”

 

“How could she, if she married you?” Kathryn wanted to know.

 

“I’m the exception she decided to make, I guess.  I think the novelty may have worn off.  That would explain Tom,” Kieran speculated dispassionately. 

 

Kathryn finished her first crab cake, pushing her cole slaw around with her fork.  “So you think she’s planning to jump ship and go back to her heterosexual roots.”

 

Kieran nodded, swallowing the lump that rose in her throat.

 

“Kato,” Kathryn reached across the desk and took her hand, “I’ve known B'Elanna a long time.  I’ve never seen her fall in love the way she did with you.  I believe it’s the real thing for her, not just some deviation she thought she’d try out.”

 

Kieran tried to keep her distress in check.  “I know I’ve been really busy, and I haven’t been attentive to her needs, lately.  I also know from my work with the crew that in heterosexual relationships, the one thing that rarely suffers is their sex life.  They can be fighting about just about everything else, but men demand and women deliver sex, regardless.  I think it’s because the women know that if they withhold it, he’ll just go somewhere else and get it.  I think with lesbians, if things get hectic, or one partner withholds it, the other learns to do without it. But with Klingons, it’s like an exaggerated human heterosexual relationship.  Both partners demand sex, regardless of the state of the relationship, and if one won’t provide it, they look elsewhere.  I haven’t been providing it.  Instead of reacting like a lesbian, B'Elanna is reacting like a Klingon.  She’s gone to find it elsewhere,” Kieran concluded miserably.

 

“You think she’s sleeping with Tom?” Kathryn was dumbfounded.

 

“Not yet.  But we both witnessed that the desire is there.  It just hasn’t manifested as overt action yet, not completely, anyway.”

 

“Then you’d better work things out before it does,” Kathryn urged.  “Kato, I’ve never known two people better suited than you and B'Elanna.  You have to work this out.”

 

Kieran snorted.  “Like you’d work it out with Seven if you found Chakotay humping her backside?”

 

Kathryn scowled.  “You’re right, I’d never forgive her.  It was bad enough when I thought she had a thing for Rachel McVicker.  But if it were a man—somehow, that would be much worse.  I don’t know why,” she puzzled over it, chewing thoughtfully.

 

“I do.  Because if she wants a man, there’s no way you can compete or argue.  It’s just over,” Kieran voiced her resignation.  “It’s what every lesbian knows when they get involved with a woman who has been with men.  A lot of lesbians won’t date women who have a history with men for that very reason.  I always thought it was cowardly and shortsighted of them, but now I think I get it.  And B'Elanna knows it’s an issue for me, because both of my previous serious relationships ended for that very reason.”

 

“What reason?  Men?” Kathryn wasn’t sure she understood.

 

“Yes.  P’Arth dumped me because she wanted a certain social station in life, one that only a Klingon male from a prominent Klingon House could give her,” Kieran explained.  “And Robin Lefler dumped me for another Starfleet officer, a man, that she met on shore leave while I was assigned to the Enterpise.  B'Elanna knows that’s my history, and she should know that the quickest way to get me to leave is for her to be flirting around with a guy.”

 

Kathryn pushed her plate aside, no longer hungry.  “You need to find out if this really is a gender issue for B'Elanna.  Damn it, Kieran, ask her if that’s what this is about.  Don’t just assume and give up.  You love her, and you don’t want to lose her.  What can it hurt to ask?  Your pride?” Kathryn was fired up now.  “If the tables were turned, and this were Seven and I fighting, you’d be all over me to talk to her.  I seem to recall someone locking us up in your office to force us to talk,” she reminded her friend.

 

Kieran grinned faintly.  “Yeah, that was one of my worst ideas,” she chuckled.  “And although I’d like to think I’m not as stubborn as you are, I also don’t think I’m ready to face B'Elanna.  It’s stupid, I suppose, but the longer I put it off, the longer I’m still married to her.  I need to get used to the idea of being without her.  And then I can start thinking about things like seeing her with Tom Paris, and custody of Katie.”

 

“Before you head for divorce court, Kato, make sure your marriage is over.  I think you’re panicking.  Slow down.  Take a deep breath.  Don’t let your imagination get the best of you,” Kathryn encouraged her.

 

“I don’t think I’m imagining things, Kat,” she confided.  “B'Elanna and I have been so distant lately, and she is so bitter about my studies, it’s not like this just came up overnight.  It’s been festering for a long time.  I think she may very well be done with me,” Kieran exhaled slowly, hearing the door to her office open and close.  She nodded her appreciation to Kathryn.  “That’s my next appointment.  Thanks for lunch, Captain.”

 

Kathryn stood to go.  “You’re welcome.  Keep me posted, Counselor.”  She hesitated to leave.  “Think about what I said, okay?”

 

Kieran nodded.  “I never take anything you say lightly, Kathryn,” she advised soberly.

________________

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres left the bridge to sulk in the ready room, preoccupied with the deplorable state of her marriage.  Beta shift was half over, and she couldn’t concentrate on anything she was supposed to be doing.  Her mind wandered back to Robin Lefler, the Mission Specialist from the Enterprise’s engineering department, who had so captivated her when she was barely out of the Academy.  She knew that her deeply rooted fears about B’Elanna’s sexuality were due largely to the history she had shared with Robin, and she needed some clarity about that relationship to get a better handle on her situation with B’Elanna.  She closed her eyes, trying to recall how things had been with Robin Lefler, and how they had fallen apart so terribly.

 

*************************************************************************

 

Ensign Kieran Thompson came aboard the Enterprise reeling from the prior week.  Graduation had been emotional and draining, and as Valedictorian, she had been far too visible for her liking. But that was only the beginning.  She

had been introduced to a prominent scientist, whom she met by virtue of being Valedictorian, and the two women became immediately involved in the most enthralling affair of Kieran's young life. They had both known the

situation was impossible, and there could be no future for them, but it didn't stop Kieran from throwing herself completely into the relationship.

 

And now, here she was, aboard the flagship of the fleet, her future stretching before her, promising and perfect, and all she could think about was the scientist. They had agreed to keep in touch, and although it seemed pointless, Kieran would certainly keep her word.

 

When she placed the subspace message, there was no answer, and she left a brief recording, requesting a return hail. She assumed her scientist lover was already back at the lab, working herself to death.

 

The return hail came well after Kieran had fallen into bed utterly exhausted, and her comm system startled her awake.  She made her way to the screen, punching the activator.  The sight of her lover overwhelmed her.

 

 “It’s so good to see you,” Kieran pressed her hand to her lips to stem the immediate desire to cry.

 

“Kieran,” she touched the screen, her lovely face contorted in agony.  “I miss you.  I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t work, I can’t think,” she let it out in a rush.  “I keep thinking it will pass, but it gets worse every day,” she hung her head miserably.  “I can’t do this.  I can’t,” she pleaded for understanding, head snapping up, stormy eyes desperate.  “Don’t contact me again,” she demanded impatiently, severing the link. 

 

Kieran sat in stunned silence, her heart breaking, her eyes stinging.  The scientist never wanted to hear from her again.  It was too hard, too much for the woman to handle, after all the closeness they had shared.  Kieran could understand that, considering how her own heart ached.  It was, as they both had known, a set of impossible circumstances.  Kieran struggled with the urge to contact her immediately to argue her case, but the woman on the other end of the communiqúe had made herself quite clear, and Kieran knew she had to respect that. 

 

She hurts as much as I do.  It isn’t that she doesn’t love me, it’s that she does.  And it’s too painful for her. I can’t put her through that.  I won’t.  It’s her choice, and my only option is to let her go, move on, forget her.

 

*************************************************************************

Ensign Kieran Thompson gathered her courage and entered the Ten-Forward lounge, eyes darting around the room for a familiar face.  She was terrible at social functions where she had to mingle and make small talk, and she wished her training at the Academy had prepared her for such situations.  She had only been back aboard the Enterprise for three days, barely long enough to unpack, when Guinan sent her an invitation to this “mixer”, as she called it.  Kieran secretly suspected it was an excuse to have a party for her, but Guinan insisted that she was going to hold a mixer every time a new crewperson came aboard, so Kieran couldn’t protest.

 

Deanna Troi smiled at her from across the room.  Kieran wondered if the Betazoid’s empathic senses told the Counselor how uncomfortable Kieran was, and if Deanna meant to rescue her.  Either way, Deanna came to retrieve her, and Kieran was grateful.

 

“Ensign,” Deanna smiled warmly.  “I was afraid you’d fake an illness to avoid this little soirée,” she laughed lightly.  “I’m glad you decided to come.  There are a lot of people who’ve been anxious to see you again,” she took Kieran’s arm and squeezed it affectionately.  “How are you adjusting to life on Enterprise?”

 

Kieran smiled thinly.  “Fine.  I’m really fortunate to be here, and I’m grateful Captain Picard accepted my application.  Most of my classmates would have killed for this posting.”

 

“I imagine they would.  But your class only had one Valedictorian, and you deserved the job,” Deanna assured her.  “We were all very proud of you.”

 

Kieran blushed profusely.  “Thank you,” she managed to cough out the reply.

 

“I don’t expect you to be here long, you know.  If you’re still interested in the Counselor Training Program, I’m sure Captain Picard and I can pull the right strings.”

 

“I would be eternally in your debt,” Kieran said earnestly.  “It’s what I want most in the world, Deanna.”

 

Deanna studied the tall, thin, newly promoted Ensign, fresh out of the Academy, with a look so eager and willing to please that it was touching to the seasoned Counselor.  “We’ll do our best, Kieran.  Oh dear, I’m afraid you’re going to be bombarded by autograph hounds,” she added, tugging Kieran toward the bar.  “That was some game you played against Tennessee in the finals,” Deanna mentioned.

 

Kieran paled visibly.  “You saw the game?  Aboard ship?”

 

Deanna laughed, her sparkling white teeth flashing.  “Guinan replicated a big screen vid display for the occasion, and we all piled into Ten-Forward to watch.  It’s the first time the Academy’s won a championship in any sport besides Parrises Squares.  This place went absolutely crazy,” she advised her young charge.

 

“It certainly did,” Guinan added, sidling up beside the much taller Ensign.  “I’ve never seen so many Academy shirts and hats in one place,” she chuckled.  “Where have you been keeping yourself, KT?  I expected a visit from you much sooner,” she scolded, threading her arm through Kieran’s.

 

“I’m sorry, Guinan.  I haven’t had a second to myself.  My department head has kept me very busy.  But I promise to come by and chat as soon as I have time,” Kieran smiled winningly.

 

Guinan pulled her close and hissed “I want that recipe.  No more excuses about it being a family secret, KT.  You’re my crewmate now, and you have to ‘fess up.”

 

Kieran grinned.  “Okay.  I’ll come by some afternoon and show you how to make it.  But don’t tell my mother, or she’ll skin me.”

 

“I’ll skin you if you don’t tell me,” Guinan threatened.  “I thought I’d never hear the end of it when you left.  ‘Why can’t you make barbecue like Kieran’s?’ they’d ask.  And I tried everything I could think of to make it taste like yours, and couldn’t do it,” she complained.

 

Kieran laughed.  “It’s good to be missed,” she joked.

 

“Come on,” Guinan pulled her away from Deanna.  “This is called a mixer for a reason.  You’re supposed to talk to everyone, not just the people who already like you,” she instructed, smiling at the Counselor as she maneuvered Kieran away from her.

 

*************************************************************************

 

Ensign Kieran Thompson had dutifully mingled in various groups, introducing herself to people she didn’t recognize and renewing acquaintances with those she did.  Invariably, the people she had never met said “I’ve heard a lot about you” or something similar, and told her what they’d heard.  Deanna was correct that there were several autograph seekers in the lounge, but Kieran didn’t mind.  Back on Earth, she couldn’t go anywhere without being besieged by fans.  After all, she had taken her team to the ICAA championship, and she had been named MVP of the game.  She was accustomed to the fuss, but somehow, it had never occurred to her that her new crew would know her for her basketball prowess.  She was startled to find that not only was her academy play common knowledge and the subject of a good deal of admiration, her decision to remain in Starfleet amid lucrative offers from professional teams was also a topic of public consumption.  She must have had to explain her rationale a dozen times in a short period that evening, usually to people who couldn’t comprehend how or why anyone would forego a career in professional sports.

 

Deanna Troi had taken it upon herself to mentor Kieran, and she watched her working her way through the crowd, Betazoid senses on alert.  Something was not right with the young Ensign, and she decided to find out what it was.  She made her way over to where Kieran was making small talk with a couple of admirers, pulling her aside.

 

“May I have a word with you, Ensign?” she ushered her to an empty table.

 

“Sure, Deanna.  What’s up?” Kieran regarded her with soft brown eyes, puzzled at the serious expression she wore.

 

“I’m sensing you’re not as excited as you should be about being on this ship,” she took Kieran’s hands across the table.  “Why are you so sad?”

 

Kieran grinned ruefully.  “I’d forgotten how hard it is to hide anything from you,” she complained.  “I am excited to be here, honestly.  It’s just—right before I joined the ship—I had a very—significant experience,” she faltered.

 

“Who was she?” Deanna prompted her.

 

“Damn,” Kieran bitched, “I can’t even be subtle with you.  It doesn’t matter who she was.  Suffice it to say she is a very private, very prominent scientist who shall remain unnamed. And,” Kieran emphasized, “she told me the second I came aboard ship she doesn’t want any contact with me.  Apparently, being apart is too difficult after such a blistering romance,” she admitted sadly.  “So I’m going to give her the distance she asked for, and move on with my life.  No point in pining away for someone who wants to get over me.”

 

“Tell me about her,” Deanna said softly.

 

“No,” Kieran refused, wincing at the memory of the captivating woman who had swept her off her feet.  “Let’s just say it was sudden, unexpected, very passionate, and she stole my heart.  And the instant she stole it, she turned around and broke it.  End of story.”  She smiled warmly at the Counselor.  “I’m okay, Deanna.  Please, don’t worry.  You know how it is with a Starfleet career.  You can’t take your lovers along until they become spouses, and this just wasn’t the type of situation that would lend itself to that.  We only had five days together.  It was just very intense, and I had to fight myself not to follow her.”

 

“I can tell it was intense,” Deanna agreed.  “There’s so much residual emotion coming from you, it’s almost tangible.  If you want to talk—”

 

“I’ll hail you, I promise,” Kieran patted her hand, trying to reassure her.  “Now, Guinan is scowling at me for talking to you, so I’m moving on to someone I’m supposed to be getting to know,” she grinned, getting up from the table.

 

Ensign Robin Lefler came to the mixer having heard more about Kieran Thompson than she could endure.  Robin’s crewmates had done nothing but talk about Kieran for two months before Kieran’s actual transfer to the Enterprise, and Robin was sick of the stories about her.  Kieran was such a great athlete, they all said, such a funny woman, so beautiful.  Robin decided no one could live up to that much hype, and so she went to the mixer to confirm her suspicions that Kieran wasn’t really all that much to write home about.  It was the contrary side of herself she couldn’t really understand, this side that wanted to dislike Ensign Thompson, simply because everyone else adored her.  Perverse, she decided.  But we’ll see about this Ensign Extraordinaire.

 

Geordi La Forge had Kieran practically pinned against the wall, grilling her about the big game.  “So what was it like, KT, when you slam dunked over Collins?” he asked eagerly, nearly shaking the lanky Ensign in his enthusiasm.  “I mean, this place exploded, we were so pumped up for you!”

 

Kieran smiled patiently.  “It was—I don’t know, Geordi, it was like—I felt like I could fly,” she said expansively, warming to her subject.  “It didn’t even matter to me that she was their best player, or that she could probably block my shot if she got a good jump.  I guess it’s what they mean by being in the zone—you feel like you’re on auto-pilot, like you’re invincible, and it’s all very surreal.   The whole game felt like that, to be honest.  I still can’t believe we won it sometimes.”

 

“I’d love to see your ring, KT,” he continued.  “It’s a shame you can’t wear it on duty.  Everyone who watched that game would love to see it.  I’ll bet Captain Picard asks you, too.  He’s a huge fan of yours,” Geordi half-whispered.

 

“You can stop by my quarters anytime, Commander.  I’d be happy to show you my memorabilia collection,” she offered, smiling.  Suddenly her attention shifted to the other side of the room, and her jaw dropped.  “Who is that?” she murmured, completely lost in the eyes of a strange woman who had just come into the lounge: piercing blue eyes, with long brown hair braided around her face and down her back, and the most perfect white teeth offset by the dark complexion of her face.  Kieran was practically breathless.

 

“Oh, that’s Robin Lefler.  She’s one of my mission specialists,” Geordi explained. 

 

“Really?  Wesley Crusher asked me to say hello to her for him,” Kieran commented, still captivated by the sight of the comely Ensign.

 

“I’ll introduce you if you like,” Geordi offered with a neutral shrug.  “So when would be a good time to see your—Kieran?  KT?” he stared after her as she wandered across the room, making a beeline for Robin Lefler.  “Oh brother,” he muttered.  “Another one bites the dust.  KT looks like she’s caught in Robin’s tractor beam,” he added, speaking to no one in particular.

 

“She looks like a Bajoran bat-moth, fixated on a campfire,” Guinan leaned over to the Commander, chuckling.  “Does Robin have any idea that she has that effect on people?”

 

Geordi scowled as he nodded his head.  “Oh, she knows it, all right,” he sounded disgusted.  “But I think she’s met her match in KT,” he commented optimistically.

 

As Kieran pushed her way through the throng of people, moving toward Robin Lefler, Robin smiled at her, and Kieran smiled back.  And the strangest thing happened as they wordlessly worked their way through the crowd to meet in the middle of Ten-Forward, mesmerized by the sight of one another.  Robin stopped hating Kieran the instant she looked at her.  And they fell in love.

 

“Hi,” Kieran finally greeted the gorgeous engineer.  “I’m Kieran Thompson,” she extended her hand.

 

Robin took it, but instead of shaking it, she held it in her own, smiling.  “Nice to meet you.  I’m Robin—Robin Lefler.  I’ve—uh—heard a lot about you.”

 

Kieran grinned facetiously.  “The rumors about prison time are completely false,” she joked.

 

Robin laughed lightly.  “Only good things.  I’ve heard all sorts of good things,” she admitted, still holding Kieran’s hand.  “I wanted to meet the legend,” she smiled up at Kieran.

 

Kieran would have snorted at that, but she was too busy drowning in the most piercing blue eyes she had ever seen.  “I’m no legend,” she argued, though not very forcefully.  “I’m supposed to say hi to you for Wesley Crusher.  He made a point of telling me to look you up.”

 

Robin smiled.  “Wes is a nice guy,” she replied, eyes locked with Kieran’s.

 

“Would you—have a drink with me?” Kieran offered, still gazing at the only person she was conscious of.

 

Robin nodded, wondering why her mouth was suddenly dry as chalk.  Kieran tried to withdraw her hand, but Robin held tightly to it, so Kieran rearranged her grip and led Robin to a table in a secluded area.  Guinan was instantly there, smirking at the two love-struck Ensigns, who continued to stare at each other.

 

“Ladies, what will it be?” she asked, trying not to laugh at them.  They mumbled their drink orders and Guinan scooted away, laughing to herself.  “Love at first sight.  Jean-Luc told me humans do it sometimes, but I never thought I’d see it,” she snickered.

 

When she deposited their drinks on the table, the two women were deep in conversation, each talking so fast, the other had to struggle to take it all in.  It was nothing short of remarkable, in Guinan’s book.  Back and forth they went like a tennis match, and then they would stop to laugh or to lean closer and exchange more intimate information.  Deanna Troi joined Guinan at the bar.

 

“What are you looking at?” Deanna wanted to know.

 

Guinan inclined her head in their direction, her large headpiece bobbing.  “Destiny, I think,” she deadpanned.

 

Deanna followed Guinan’s line of vision.  “Oh dear,” she muttered, frowning. 

 

Guinan quirked an eyebrow.  “You disapprove?”

 

Deanna shrugged.  “It’s not that I disapprove.  It’s just that Kieran is very impressionable.  And she’s on the rebound. And Robin can be—manipulative.  I get a strange sensation whenever I’m with her.  I don’t trust her,” Deanna explained.

 

“Your gut is usually right, Deanna,” Guinan acknowledged.  “I hope this time, it’s wrong.  Look at how enthralled they are,” she grinned ruefully.

 

Will Riker showed up with Kieran’s guitar, and there was a general clamoring for a song.  Robin rather enjoyed being the center of attention by virtue of her immediate relationship with Kieran Thompson, and once Kieran had begun to sing, Robin knew the hype was understatement.  Kieran was truly talented, and Robin was enchanted.   They remained at the mixer for a respectable amount of time, but as soon as people started to leave, Robin reached across the table for Kieran’s hand, leaning in close.

 

“Will you come to my quarters and sing for me?” she asked.

 

Just like that.  Simple.  Direct.  Obvious.

 

And Kieran softly replied “I’d love to.”

 

They walked hand in hand toward Robin’s quarters, Kieran lugging her guitar case, moving as if in a dream.  Robin’s hand felt warm in hers, fingers woven together, large against small, powerful surrounding delicate.  Kieran marveled at the perfection of it, thinking that perhaps, there was something fated about this woman in her life.  She had never felt so instantly attracted to someone, so open to them.  It felt familiar, somehow, as if they had been together before, or loved each other in another time and place.  Kieran wasn’t sure if she believed in reincarnation; it intrigued her, of course, but she had always had doubts.  Touching Robin Lefler, she could almost begin to believe that it was possible they had known each other in another life.  She wanted to believe. 

 

Robin let them into her quarters, smiling up at the taller Ensign, pulling Kieran to her bedroom to sit down.  Kieran didn’t think it was too forward, considering that Robin didn’t have a couch in her sitting room.  She had few furnishings, but lavish artwork on the walls.  Kieran would have stopped to admire it, if Robin hadn’t been leading her away from there. 

 

“You get your guitar out, while I light some candles,” she instructed, her tone soft and inviting.

 

Obediently, Kieran opened the case of her instrument, pulling out the guitar and checking its tuning.  She watched as Robin moved from table to shelf to dresser to table, leaving a wake of shimmering candlelight behind her.  The room was transformed as Robin ordered the lights off, leaving only the small, flickering flames to light the space around them.  Robin kicked her shoes off, moved onto the bed, and sat cross legged, facing Kieran.  Kieran smiled and followed suit, resting her guitar in her lap.  “Do you really want me to play for you?” she asked skeptically, thinking Robin had only asked as a way of getting Kieran to go home with her.

 

Robin nodded, however, and Kieran shrugged, launching into a song.  Kieran serenaded the lovely Robin Lefler for over an hour.  When her fingers began to ache and her throat was dry, she placed her guitar in its case on the floor.  And magically, Robin was there, suddenly in her arms, kissing her.  Kieran touched Robin’s cheek as their lips came together, wanting to draw her in closer, to keep her there for hours. 

 

Oh God, so soft, so beautiful, Kieran thought, cradling Robin’s chin in her fingers, lips brushing lightly together.  Only Robin’s breathing and the faint sound of their mouths searching, parting, and joining again filled Kieran’s awareness.  Each of her five senses came alive, focusing in turn on the places their bodies touched, on their kisses, on the sensation of Robin’s lips parting Kieran’s.  Every touch seemed burned into her consciousness, searing itself like a flash of light and heat into the memory synapses of her brain.  Thought became a blur of emotion, reason fragmented from thought and fell away, and there was only this woman, revealing herself in the physical, imparting her soul in the sexual, stripping away the camouflaging layers of clothing and pretense and hesitation. 

 

Robin swept back the covers of her bed, pulling Kieran beneath the comforter and sheets, draping her naked, perfect body over Kieran’s.  To Kieran it seemed protective and provocative at the same time, arousing and endearing in equal measure.  Robin’s mouth found hers once more, and their kiss deepened; Kieran trembled beneath Robin from the sheer intensity of her passion, arching upward to stop the withdrawal of Robin’s lips.  Teasing, pursuing and retreating, Robin smiled into their kiss as Kieran’s breath escaped in a faint hiss of air.  If Robin was reveling in her ability to usurp Kieran’s control, Kieran didn’t care; she gladly surrendered to the sensations in her body as Robin sucked gently on the tip of her tongue, fluttering her own against it, listening as Kieran’s breathing quickened perceptibly.

 

Robin felt so good in her arms, Kieran thought to herself, running her hands over the bare angles of Robin’s shoulders, tracing the outline of muscle and bone with the lightest of touches.  Unexpected, this attraction, especially so soon after…Kieran wouldn’t even think her name, not again.  Robin shivered from the indulgence of Kieran’s caress, redoubling her efforts to control the pace and intensity of the encounter.  She kissed Kieran’s earlobe, breathing softly into her ear, following breath with the delicate flick of her tongue.  Kieran clutched at her buttocks, pulling her tighter, suppressing a groan.  Relentlessly, Robin nipped and sucked and licked from ear to throat, leaving Kieran breathless and aching.  Moisture gathered between Kieran’s legs, and a throbbing sensation ensued there.  Robin’s hands cupped Kieran’s breasts, thumbs glossing over distended nipples.  Kieran muffled the sound of her arousal by kissing Robin forcefully, hands tangling in her hair, lips crushing in their fervor. 

 

Kieran moved them onto their sides, pressing her leg between Robin’s and rolling them over so that she hovered above the smaller woman, peering down at her.  The power balance having shifted, she dropped her face to Robin’s right breast and tasted it, gently at first, then firmly.  Robin arched beneath her, a soft, tortured sound escaping her, a sound that resounded in Kieran’s body like a thundering wave.  She ravished Robin’s elegantly sensitive breasts, glorying in the needful response, sudden and certain in her approach, pressing her fingers into the thin thatch of hair between her legs.  Robin moaned and opened her thighs, drawing her legs up against her heart-shaped behind.  Kieran penetrated her with two long fingers, letting the muscles pull her through the gathering fluid.  Robin gasped and lifted her hips, meeting Kieran’s intrusion willingly.

 

Kissing a fevered path from nipple to belly, Kieran eased down the length of Robin’s torso, wishing she could devour every inch of her, captivated by the taste and smell and feel of her response.  With fingers pressed to her core, Kieran eased her face between Robin’s legs, parting her labia with the tip of her tongue.  She licked softly at the thick folds, listening to the faint gasps and incoherent words that became hard groans as her tongue found the center of Robin’s desire, tongue swirling over it and retreating.  She eased her fingers in and out in time with the fluttering of her tongue, and Robin turned her face into her pillow crying out sharply and masking the shout as she came, clutching at the sheets and nearly crushing Kieran’s head in her abandon. 

 

Kieran guided her through it, astounded at her ferocity, then moved up the length of her body to hold her.  Robin pushed her down on the bed, kissing her fiercely, hands everywhere at once, determined to return the pleasure.  She balanced on her arms and knees, kissing Kieran and fondling her clit at the same time.  Kieran was too ready, on the verge just from the need that making love to her had created.  Robin sensed that she was about to lose control, and backed off, easing Kieran away from the edge of climax, drawing it out.  She touched Kieran’s outer lips repeatedly, teasing.  Kieran squirmed beneath her, trying to position her clit beneath Robin’s fingers, but Robin only smiled and murmured “Not yet.”

 

She pulled Kieran against her and rolled them onto one side, drawing Kieran’s leg over her hip, and dabbling in the moisture seeping from her opening.  She pushed inside her opening with one finger, making sure to coat it completely, then penetrated with a second finger.  With the first finger, she lubricated Kieran’s tightest opening, listening to the anticipatory sounds her fingertip elicited.  Kieran breathed deeply and relaxed as Robin entered her there, groaning deep in her chest.  Robin wiggled her finger, making Kieran shudder with chills, feeling the small muscle close around her finger in tiny spasms.  Filled in both places, Robin grinned at her lover, descending her very long body, and burying her face in Kieran’s flesh.

 

Kieran’s legs were trembling from the strain of her arousal, but Robin gauged her response perfectly, ceasing all motion inside her until she had regained a modicum of control.  Then she licked a slow, circular path around her labia, close to, but not touching, her clit.  Kieran’s desperation sounded throughout the room, a cross between a cry and a plea.  Robin teased and teased, and when Kieran was at the verge of begging, mercifully, she captured the tiny node and gave Kieran release.  Kieran came in deep, rolling waves, utterly mastered, convulsing and moaning uncontrollably, until Robin withdrew her fingers and tongue, smiling with satisfaction.

 

They lay together in the waning candlelight, speechless, kissing endlessly, tenderly, reverently.  Kieran had known from loving a full-blooded Klingon what it was to be conquered by a lover’s aggression; but with Robin Lefler, she discovered what it was to be conquered by passion, by tenderness, by love.  Kieran was swept away by it all, overwhelmed by the deluge of desire and the reciprocity of vulnerability, helpless to do anything but let it carry her like a raging tide.  Perhaps it was her affair of a few days before that had left her so open and needful, or perhaps it was only Robin, but either way, Kieran Thompson was at Robin Lefler’s mercy from the outset.

 

Hours passed, and they made love again and again, tireless in their need to know one another on the most intimate level.  In the early morning hours they drifted off to sleep, Kieran cradling Robin against her, possessively guarding them against the end of their night together.  The morning alarm seemed the rudest intrusion, and both women awoke half angry at the impertinence of its interruption. 

 

Robin smiled sleepily, touching Kieran’s face, kissing her awake.  “Hey,” she whispered.  “We have to get up.  You don’t want to be late on your fourth day,” she added, kissing the tip of Kieran’s nose.

 

Kieran sighed happily, snuggling against the smaller woman, wrapping her arms around the tiny waist and hugging her tightly.  “Can I resign my commission and stay in bed with you?” she teased.

 

“Not hardly,” Robin kissed her forcefully.  “But you can come back tonight.  Meet me after Alpha shift, and I’ll make dinner for you,” she invited, moving on top of the much taller Ensign.

 

Kieran smiled up at her, overwhelmed by the depth of feeling that this woman inspired.  “Robin—” she began, thinking she would try to express what was welling in her chest.

 

But Robin kissed her, effectively silencing the admission.  “Don’t,” she whispered.  “I know,” she added, gazing meaningfully into Kieran’s deep brown eyes. 

 

“Okay,” Kieran agreed, swallowing her confession.  “Can I use your shower?”

 

Robin quirked an eyebrow.  “Let’s use it together,” she offered.  “You can replicate a uniform,” she nodded at the replicator, rolling out of bed.

 

***************************************************************************

 

Ensign Kieran Thompson was assigned to work in the xenobiology lab three work days a week, and the other two work days, she spent with Deanna Troi, training to be the assistant Ship’s Counselor.  Deanna was grooming Kieran for the Counselor training program at Starfleet Academy, and while she had Kieran at her disposal, she intended to use the young Ensign’s talents to take some of the burden off herself as Ship’s Counselor.

 

Kieran reported to Deanna’s office that morning, bleary eyed and grinning like a fool.  Deanna hardly needed to be empathic to identify the symptoms of Kieran’s illness: the Ensign was lovesick.

 

Deanna greeted her and offered her coffee, then sat down with her to go over the training program she had devised.  Kieran listened half-heartedly, her mind wandering back to the night before.

 

“You’ll sit in with me on sessions, and I want you to take notes.  After the session, we’ll discuss each case and strategize a treatment regimen,” she was saying, knowing full well that Kieran’s mind was wandering.  “Then we’ll teach the clients with depressive tendencies the most efficient methods of committing suicide, and be done with it,” she concluded, her tone never changing.

 

Kieran kept nodding, as if Deanna had just proposed they pick flowers in the arboretum.  Deanna shook Kieran’s arm roughly. 

 

“Hello,” she half-shouted.  “Are you listening?”

 

Kieran stiffened to attention. “Yes, I’m listening,” she lied.

 

Deanna shook her head, smirking.  “Repeat what I just said,” she ordered.

 

“You—um—you said I’ll sit in with you on sessions and we’ll come up with a treatment plan,” Kieran screwed up her face trying to remember the rest.  “And we’ll um, we’ll—um—what was the last thing?” Kieran blushed, admitting defeat.

 

“You’re worthless,” Deanna laughed.  “Tell me about last night, and maybe then you’ll be able to concentrate on your supervisor’s instructions.  By the way, the last thing I said was we’ll help the depressives off themselves and be done with it.”

 

Kieran’s eyes widened.  “You didn’t,” she was appalled.

 

“I did.  You weren’t paying attention.  So tell me about Robin Lefler,” Deanna crossed her arms, waiting expectantly.

 

“I’m sorry, Counselor,” Kieran replied sincerely.  “I’m a little—preoccupied,” she admitted.

 

“A little?” Deanna snorted.  “You were nowhere in this quadrant, young lady,” she scolded.  “Did you enjoy the mixer?”

 

Kieran grinned sheepishly.  “I enjoyed meeting Robin,” she confessed.  “She’s—she’s just—oh, my God, Deanna,” she finished, hand on her chest.  “I feel like someone dropped a shipyard of duranium on me,” she breathed raggedly.  “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

 

Deanna smiled knowingly.  “Obviously,” she chuckled. 

 

“She’s so beautiful,” Kieran sighed, thinking about Robin’s face, her body, her hands.  “It’s like she just reached inside me and opened me—I feel like she can look right through my defenses.  It’s disconcerting, but in an amazing, wonderful way.  I just felt like we connected, instantly.”

 

Deanna nodded.  “I saw how the two of you were looking at each other.  There was a lot of heat in Ten-Forward,” she agreed.  “And Robin is beautiful, and very bright.  She’s the object of a lot of attention,” Deanna tried delicately to warn Kieran.  “I’ve seen her have this effect on more than one crewmember.”

 

“I think I had the same effect on her.  It felt like it, anyway.  It just seemed—like we’re supposed to be together, somehow.  Oh, I know I’m babbling like an idiot, Deanna, I’m sorry.  I just can’t explain it.  There are no words for it.  But when I think about her, I feel it in my body, in my heart, in my soul.  Just holding her hand, remembering how it felt, I’m mesmerized all over again.  Does that make sense?”

 

“Infatuation can be very powerful,” Deanna agreed.

 

Kieran started, defensive.  “Infatuation?  No, that’s not what this is.  It’s deeper than that.  Infatuation is so adolescent.  This is meaningful, substantial, not superficial. It’s not lust, or a crush.”

 

“You’re in love then?” Deanna asked gently.

 

Kieran thought about it, then nodded slowly.  “I must be.  I feel like—like it’s necessary to be with her again, and as soon as I can.  I want to know everything about her, Deanna, what makes her happy, what stimulates her mind, what makes her cry, what she dreams about.  I was so sad when the alarm went off this morning, I almost cried.  I just didn’t want it to be over so soon.”

 

Deanna reached across her desk, touching Kieran’s hand.  “Please, Kieran,” she requested softly, “be careful.  You’re so young, and you’re so quick to trust and to accept.  And you know you’re just coming off a prior affair.  I worry about you,” she added.

 

Kieran smiled indulgently at her mentor, thinking she was overprotective.  “I know I’m acting silly.  It’s just that Robin is so perfect for me,” she explained.  “Don’t worry, though.  I’ll be careful.”

 

Deanna knew it was too late for that.

 

***************************************************************************

 

Kieran fell desperately in love with Robin Lefler, and Robin loved Kieran, or at least she professed to love her.  For Robin, it was a complex attraction.  She loved being with someone who everyone thought so highly of, and because Kieran was friends with a good many of the senior staff, Robin was able to travel in the circle of Kieran’s friends, a ‘higher’ circle than she would have attained alone.  She made connections with important people through her lover, and that suited her.  But she also genuinely admired Kieran, and had to admit that people liked Kieran with good reason. 

 

Robin moved Kieran in ways no one ever had, as if she could see into Kieran’s darkest thought processes, finding the things there that had the most power over her and liberating them by expressing them openly, accepting them, celebrating them.  As for their sexual relationship, Kieran would no more than formulate a thought encompassing a desire and Robin would do that very thing to her, leaving her gasping with need and writhing with pleasure.

 

Robin had never had a female lover before, and that made her relationship with Kieran all the more exciting, simply for the nuances of loving a woman.  She had rarely taken her sexual liaisons seriously, but with Kieran, it was different.  She could envision a future with Kieran.  She could project beyond the next week or the next month, and see something substantial.

 

Kieran wanted to be with Robin Lefler for the rest of her life.  She couldn’t imagine that anyone or anything could break them up, they had connected so deeply and immediately.

________________

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres rested her booted feet on the desk in the Captain’s ready room, thinking back on her relationship with Robin Lefler.  She suddenly remembered that when she transferred to Voyager, her personal logs had been transferred with her.  She pulled up the index on the ship’s database, found the date she transferred to Enterprise, and scrolled to the date she met Robin.  She played back her old log entries one by one, amused at how young she was then, and how short her hair was.

 

She also remembered her early relationship with Deanna Troi, and how Deanna had tried in subtle ways to warn Kieran about Robin Lefler.  Enterprise had just gone to Kaelon II, a planet whose sun was slowly dying.  Enterprise was there to assist the planet’s scientists who were trying to revitalize their sun.  Kieran recalled how she hadn’t listened to Deanna’s veiled advice.  She should have listened.

 

**************************************************************************

 

Ensign Kieran Thompson was just finishing up a personal log entry when her door chime sounded. 

 

“Come,” she called out, thinking it was Robin Lefler.

 

Deanna Troi whisked into the room, looking pale and drawn.  “Hide me,” she sounded frantic as she pressed herself against the wall to conceal herself until the door could slide shut.

 

“Good lord, Deanna, what’s wrong?” Kieran went to her immediately, grasping her shoulders.

 

“My mother is looking for me,” she explained, hanging her head.

 

Kieran threw back her head and laughed.  “Is that all?”

 

“You’ve met her.  What do you mean, ‘is that all’?” Deanna demanded petulantly.

 

Kieran slipped an arm around her shoulders.  “Point taken.  Come on in.  I have to warn you though, Robin is on her way over, which means you’ll have to decide which you’d rather weather—my lover or your mother.”

 

“Why would you say that, KT?  I like Robin,” she asserted, helping herself to a seat.

 

“Liar,” Kieran accused mildly.  “Can I get you something?  Chocolate ice cream, perhaps?”

 

Deanna nodded enthusiastically, but wouldn’t concede the issue.  “Truly, Kieran, it’s not that I dislike Robin.”

 

Kieran went to program the replicator smiling faintly.  “Then why does it feel like you dislike her?” she asked, retrieving a bowl of chocolate ice cream with chocolate chips.

 

Deanna shrugged.  “It’s not so much that I dislike her,” she reiterated.  “And ordinarily, I wouldn’t say anything, but you’re my friend, and I’m—concerned,” she admitted reluctantly.

 

Kieran scowled at her.  “All right.  What?”

 

Deanna stalled by tasting her food, toying with the chips.  “I get a feeling, when you two are together, that the relationship is much more important to you than it is to her,” she explained apologetically.

 

Kieran sat down beside her, digesting the feedback.  “Do your Betazoid senses tell you that?” she asked meekly.

 

“Yes.”

 

Kieran sighed.  “Are they ever—wrong?”

 

“Rarely,” Deanna advised.

 

“You know, Deanna, you’re a psychologist, and a fine one, at that.  Why can’t you get along with your own mother?” Kieran changed the subject abruptly.

 

Deanna frowned at her.  “If she were your mother, would you get along with her?” she asked impatiently.

 

Kieran grinned.  “Good point,” she conceded.  “What’s she done now?”  Kieran secretly delighted in Deanna’s conflicts with the overbearing, meddling, condescending Lwaxana Troi, daughter of the Fifth House, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed.

 

Deanna rolled her eyes.  “Well, for starters, she’s trying to change centuries of the social normative order of Kaelon II,” she complained, “though her motives, as always, are good, she is creating an intergalactic scandal.  But that’s the sort of thing my mother is always up to,” she groused.   Deanna looked Kieran up and down, realizing that she was dressed up to go somewhere.  “Big plans tonight?” she asked.

 

“We’re going out to dinner.”

 

Deanna forced a smile.  “Then I won’t stay.”

 

“Actually, I want to show you something,” she said mysteriously.  “Wait here.”  She disappeared into her bedroom momentarily, and reappeared with a small velvet box.  She snapped it open to reveal a stunning engagement ring.  “What do you think?” she asked expectantly.

 

Deanna was dismayed, but hid it well.  “You’re going to ask her to marry you?”

 

Kieran nodded.  “After this mission, in fact,” she replied.  “We’re supposed to get shore leave at  Starbase 211, and I hear they have some excellent recreational facilities.  I thought I’d propose at their starboretum.”

 

Deanna tried not to frown.  “Sounds very romantic,” she allowed.  “Isn’t it a little soon, Kieran?”

 

She shrugged.  “What’s time, really?  I love her, Deanna.  That’s not going to change, not in this lifetime.  I want to be with her.  And if you’re right about this relationship being one-sided, I guess I’ll find out then.”

 

“I don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all,” she touched Kieran’s hand.

 

Kieran grinned.  “Then pray she says yes.”

 

“Have you considered what will happen when you go back to the Academy for the Counselor training program, and you’re separated?  Robin won’t be able to just put her career on hold while you’re in school, you know,”  Deanna observed, trying to keep her tone neutral.

 

“That’s assuming I get accepted.  If I do, we’ll work it out, I’m sure,” she argued dismissively.  “There’s something I wanted to ask you, though,” she met Deanna’s eyes with seriousness.  “Would you stand up with me?”

 

Deanna conjured up a warm smile, though she felt only sadness.  “Of course.  I’d be honored,” she replied, though she knew deep down the day would never come.

 

Kieran hugged her lightly.  “Great.  Thanks.”

 

********************************************************************************

 

Ensign Kieran Thompson was stunned when the correspondence came.  The scientist she had fallen so hard for back on Earth, the one who never wanted to hear from her again, had written to her, after six months of silence, to tell her she could not forget what they had shared.  She had to see Kieran again, somehow, she said. 

 

Kieran struggled over her response, trying to find a way to gently explain that she was involved with someone else.  She composed what she thought was a heartfelt, honest reply, and sent it off, hoping she had not hurt the woman’s feelings too terribly. 

 

Kieran felt the true testament of her love for Robin Lefler was that she had been able to confide in her about the scientist, something she had never discussed with anyone else.  It had simply been too painful, but Robin had made it bearable, and their relationship made any other lovers she had taken seem insignificant to her.

 

________________

 

 

B'Elanna Thompson-Torres set her alarm to go off an hour before Kieran’s command duty ended.  She fully intended to swallow her pride and apologize to her wife, and to talk through the hurt and the anger.  She would make Kieran understand that the aberrant behavior she had witnessed at Sandrine’s was born of suppressed resentment and frustration, nothing more.  There were no larger implications, and it was nothing that couldn’t be resolved. 

 

B'Elanna made sure Katie was down for the night, and prepared a late dinner, knowing Kieran would have eaten something fast and convenient, but not necessarily nutritious, at the beginning of Beta shift.  That is, if she ate at all.  She usually won’t if she’s upset. 

 

B'Elanna would’ve gladly foregone several hours of sleep to mend the rift between them.  She had decided to terminate her outings with Tom Paris, who could not be trusted.  His lack of respect for her marriage was reason enough, but his opportunistic attempts at seduction were deplorable.

 

She had never felt so putrid.  She was ashamed and humiliated, and had never done anything so dishonorable in all her life.  She knew she did not deserve to be forgiven, but she trusted that Kieran would find it within herself to do so, if B'Elanna could plead her case convincingly.

 

But Kieran never came home.

 

When B'Elanna queried the ship’s computer as to Kieran’s whereabouts, the neutral voice reported that Kieran was in the Captain’s ready room.

 

“Is she awake, computer?”

 

“Negative,” the computer replied.

 

“Has she—made any inquiries tonight, computer?”

 

The computer chirped.  “Two queries found.”

 

“Play them back,” B'Elanna snapped impatiently. 

 

Kieran’s soft, troubled voice played back.  “Computer,” she said, “access currently accepted theories of sexual identity, cross reference search term ‘bisexuality’.  Send the results to my comm account.”

 

The second query string played after a brief delay.  “Computer,” Kieran sighed, “locate Katie Thompson-Torres.”

 

B'Elanna flinched.  “Computer, time index of second inquiry?”

 

“Query was transmitted at 21:46 hours.”

 

B'Elanna slumped into a chair, heartbroken.  Kieran hadn’t even trusted that B'Elanna would get Katie home and to bed properly.  She had had to ask.  B'Elanna wanted to talk to Kieran, but she couldn’t leave Katie alone, and it was too late to ask anyone to baby-sit while she went to speak with her wife.  The childcare center was closed during Gamma Shift because there were no working parents on that shift.  B’Elanna considered hailing Kieran, but knew if Kieran was asleep, she might not be thrilled at being awakened, especially since she was so angry at B'Elanna.  She resigned herself to waiting until Alpha shift to speak with her wife.  In the meantime, she’d have to try to make herself sleep.

 

B'Elanna replicated wine for herself, dimmed the lights in her quarters, and sat in the darkness, agonizing over the state of her marriage.  Suddenly, the anger and resentment over Kieran’s constant absence was gone.  B'Elanna recognized it for the pettiness that it was.  After all, she had agreed to Kieran’s command track training, and she had known at the time that it would be a strain.  Now she would give anything if she could take back all the peevish comments, the hostile glares, the uncharitable thoughts.  She had been so busy nursing her outrage over the injustice of their circumstances, she had lost sight of the only thing that mattered—their relationship.  She had let the stress divide them, and she had failed Kieran entirely.  She grimaced as she remembered all the times Kieran had tried to approach her, and all the times she had pushed Kieran away, both emotionally and physically.

 

Kieran had been the only person B'Elanna had ever truly trusted to accept and love her.  B'Elanna had never shown anyone the Klingon side of her soul, until Kieran had helped her to reveal it.  Kieran had celebrated it, honored it, cherished it, and shared it fully with her wife.  And B'Elanna had treated her as if none of that mattered, as if the only important thing was who got up with Katie in the middle of the night, or how many hours Kieran spent in her physical presence.  Never mind that quantity is rarely quality time; B'Elanna had demanded and been denied quantity, and so she had refused to permit the quality time to exist.

 

She bit her lip until she drew blood, a thin ribbon seeping from her injured flesh, warm and salty, a bitter reminder of the times she had indulged herself in bloodlust, something she might not ever share with anyone again.  Kieran had not come home.  B'Elanna had pushed her away for so long, how could she have imagined Kieran would keep coming back for more rejection?  And then to add insult to injury, she had allowed Tom Paris to practically take her in public, and Kieran had seen it.  Kathryn had seen it. 

 

Kieran had not come home.  B'Elanna finished her wine and changed into her pajamas, knowing she would not sleep until utter exhaustion claimed her.  She tried to comfort herself by clutching Kieran’s pillow to her, breathing in the faint scent of her wife.  Ultimately, Kieran’s scent was replaced by the mild odor of Klingon tears.

_______________

 

B'Elanna Thompson-Torres was having a bad morning.  She had hardly slept, and the fact that Kieran hadn’t come home had her beside herself with fear.  To make matters worse, the cryogenic fluid transfer system was showing signs of imminent failure at several supply levels to the ship, all of them critical to life support.  She was, as usual, up to her armpits in deteriorating parts. 

 

Naomi Wildman had had a slow morning, and found herself with a couple of free hours.  She had cut back her time in  engineering after the incident on Restid Three, and she was considering resuming her former five hour shifts there.  She was convinced B'Elanna needed the assistance, and she did want to be an asset to the crew.  She also felt a need that morning to touch base with her mentor, as everyone else seemed to be acting strangely.  K-Mom and Borg-Mom were noticeably quiet at breakfast, and kept exchanging worried looks.  They had one of those conversations that was meant to be too abstract for Naomi to understand, but she had gleaned from the broken questions and replies that someone wasn’t speaking to someone else.  She suspected it involved Kieran and B'Elanna.

 

Naomi crawled down the Jeffries tube where she saw that B'Elanna was working in an access panel.  B’Elanna was swearing under her breath and digging deeper to get to the transfer conduit behind the morass of wiring and relays.  Naomi almost turned back when she saw B'Elanna throw a plasma torch against the floor plating in disgust, but she thought better of it and continued on.

 

“Hey, do you need some help?” she called out as she reached the fuming Klingon.

 

B'Elanna withdrew her head, looking the Ktarian up and down.  “I could use a hand, but I’m in a pretty foul mood, so it’s your choice.  I can’t vouch for my temper or my language, today.”

 

Naomi grinned.  “Good.  I love it when you cuss up a storm,” she assured her.  “But how come you’re in such a bad mood?”

 

The Klingon-human hybrid looked at the Ktarian appraisingly, wondering if she should tell the truth.  She decided against a full disclosure.  “Kieran and I had a fight yesterday.  I’m still upset about it,” she confided.

 

“Do you want to tell me about it?” she asked hopefully.

 

B'Elanna shook her head.  “It’s too embarrassing.  Let’s just leave it at that.”

 

Naomi lay her hand on B'Elanna’s arm, trying to console her.  “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll pass.  Kieran never stays mad for more than a few hours.  She’s probably already forgotten it,” Naomi encouraged her.

 

B'Elanna swallowed her emotions, trying through sheer force of will to sublimate them, but her heart was breaking.  “Not this time,” she muttered, biting her lip.  She struggled to hold back, and succeeded for the moment.  “Anyway, I need to bleed this supply line so I can replace it, and there’s several hundred meters of it.  If you can monitor the bleed, and shut it down once the dewar is full, I can start isolating and tearing out the sections that are bled out,” she explained.  “Let me know where to clamp the line to maintain the vacuum.”

 

Naomi looked inside the access panel.  “Sure, I can do that.”

 

“Just make sure the pressure in the dewar stays the same as the pressure in the cryostat.  I need 100% recovery of the helium.  And double check the seal on the transfer tube.  If this stuff leaks, you could lose body parts before it warms up enough to be harmless.”

 

“Understood.”  Naomi turned her attention to her task, but B'Elanna hesitated, watching the youngster working. Naomi had grown so much, B’Elanna realized, that the Ktarian dwarfed her easily, even on hands and knees.  Kahless, B’Elanna realized, she’s beautiful.  A young woman, not a girl, anymore.  Naomi glanced over her shoulder, and turned back from her cross legged position to face the Chief Engineer.  “Is there something else?”

 

B'Elanna started to say something, but stopped herself.  Her tenuous hold on her emotions threatened to break.  Naomi frowned and put her arms around B'Elanna, hugging her.  “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what happened?” she asked softly.

 

B'Elanna started to cry, and for a long time, couldn’t speak to answer.  Naomi held the sturdier woman gingerly, patting her back.  “It’s okay, Lanna,” she quietly told her.  “Why don’t you talk to Kieran?  You’ll feel a lot better.”

 

B'Elanna sniffed loudly, crying even harder.  She clung to Naomi, trying to get a hold of herself, concerned that she would frighten the Ktarian, but she just couldn’t stop herself.  Finally, she managed to croak out an explanation.  “She didn’t come home last night,” she admitted.

 

“Oh, Lanna,” Naomi said sympathetically, “I’m sorry,” she continued to hold her.  “I know it looks bad right now, but you have to believe in Kieran.  She’ll come around.  I know she loves you, and I know nothing could change that.”

 

B'Elanna finally harnessed her rampant worry and suppressed her tears.  “I hope you’re right, Na.  She was pretty damned angry.  And I couldn’t believe it when she didn’t come home.” 

 

Naomi released her hold and tried to sound cheerful.  “You need to go speak with her.  Let me take care of this job.  I can do it.”

 

B'Elanna shook her head.  “No, let me get Vorik to help you.  If I go now, I can probably catch her at lunch.”

 

“Good,” Naomi nodded approvingly.  “You know Kieran.  She’s always willing to talk things out.  She’s probably just waiting for you to say you’re ready.”

 

B'Elanna forced a tight smile.  “I hope so.”

_________________

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres showed up at the childcare center during lunch that day.  She sat in the floor with Katie, who was ecstatic at having a visitor.  They shared some cookies, and Katie showed off her vocabulary, which consisted of “Mama”, various animals, some colors, “Senen” for Seven and “Na” for Naomi.  The one word she uttered without flaw or hesitation was “Geejay”.  Kieran was immensely amused at that.  Neelix watched the mother and daughter out of the corner of his eye, aware that something was amiss at the Thompson-Torres’ home.

 

“I’m surprised to see you here,” he finally said, coming over for a moment.  His garish clothing was practically blinding it its intensity, but the little Talaxian had a heart as big as the Delta Quadrant, and Kieran valued that.

 

“Hello, Neelix,” she offered, looking up.  “I missed my girl,” she explained.

 

“Ah, yes, you’ve been the busy bee, haven’t you?  The Beta shift folks say you’re doing a fine job in the big chair,” he advised her, smiling brightly.  “Not much longer, eh?”

 

Kieran sighed.  “Yes, thankfully.  I’ve almost logged enough hours to sit for the exam.”

 

Neelix gathered a stray block and put it within Katie’s reach.  “From what I hear, there’s no sitting involved.  It’s all a simulated away mission,” he noted.

 

Kieran quirked an eyebrow.  “What else have you heard?”

 

He gave her a knowing wink.  “I’ve heard it’s the most complex simulation the crew has ever had to program.  And I’ve heard it’s rather—unorthodox.”

 

Kieran nodded.  “That’s what I’ve heard.  But it’s just rumor and speculation, at this point.  I’ve got other things to worry about, anyway,” she added, frowning.

 

Neelix smiled sympathetically.  “Is everything okay with you and B'Elanna?”

 

“News travels fast on this ship,” she complained.  “No, actually, it’s not.  I slept in the Captain’s ready room last night.”

 

Neelix’ whiskers stood out momentarily.  “I’m sorry, Counselor.  Is there anything I can do?”

 

Kieran scowled.  “Yeah.  Shove Tom Paris out an air lock,” she smarted, then slapped her hand over her mouth.

 

“Tom?” Neelix was shocked.  “Oh Kieran,” he sounded beside himself.  “I really am sorry.”

 

Kieran shrugged.  “It happens.  Unfortunately.”

 

Neelix shook his head, bewildered.  “I knew something was wrong when B'Elanna came in today.  I could tell she hadn’t slept.  I’m sure she had been crying.”

 

Kieran listened with interest.  “She had?”

 

“She looked awful.  Like she’d been wrestling a targ all night.  One thing is for sure, she was very unhappy, Kieran.  She barely said two words.  You look just as unhappy.  Maybe you should talk to her.  If you’re both this upset, shouldn’t you sleep at home tonight?”

 

Kieran sighed.  “Maybe.  But I think she owes me an explanation, at the very least, and probably an apology.”

 

“It takes two,” he pointed out unobtrusively.  “Does it matter who breaks the ice?”

 

“I suppose not.  I’ll think about it.  I guess I’m just afraid I’ll apologize and she’ll tell me it’s over anyway,” Kieran admitted.  “Well, I’ve got to get back to my office.  I can’t fix my own problems, but I’ve got to fix everybody else’s,” she grinned.

 

“If you need me to baby-sit, don’t hesitate to ask, okay?”  Neelix offered.

 

Kieran kissed his whiskered cheek.  “Thanks, Neelix.  You’re the best.”

______________

 

B'Elanna Thompson-Torres had finally worked up the wherewithal to confront her spouse, and burst into Kieran’s office, only to find it empty.  Figures, she groused inwardly.  She’s probably off squeezing three sessions into one hour long lunch.  B'Elanna checked the itinerary on the workstation in the waiting room.  Nope.  She must be having lunch with the Captain.  I really shouldn’t have left Na to do my work, either, so I better get back.  I’ll try to see Kieran tonight.

 

B’Elanna got back to Engineering, only to find the Captain working there.

 

“Captain, is there something I can help you with?” she asked politely.

 

Kathryn looked up from the access panel she was feeling around inside.  “I think I’ve got it under control.  I came to see you on personal business, but then an alert went off.  This bioneural gel pack is defunct, so I’m changing it out,” she explained, reaching further inside.

 

“I can do that, Captain,” B’Elanna felt bad that she had been away from the store when the alarms went off.  “Really,” she offered.

 

“Already got it,” Janeway smiled. “Damn,” she swore, “it burst.  Hand me a containment cell,” she requested.

 

B’Elanna got one of the sealable containers and held it while Janeway dumped the mass of blue goo into it.  “They’ve been doing that a lot lately.  The pack integrity is just degrading to nothing, and then the gel bursts out of them.  I can’t figure out what’s causing it.”

 

Janeway was covered in the thick fluid, scraping it off her hands and into the containment cell.  “Feels like snot,” she commented, grinning.

 

B’Elanna smirked.  “It’s not supposed to, but you’re right.  You said you came to see me on personal business?”

 

Janeway nodded.  “Are you okay?  I saw Kieran earlier, and I know you two have been fighting.”

 

“You were at Sandrine’s, you know the story,” B’Elanna was shamefaced. 

 

“I was more than a little surprised, B’Elanna,” Kathryn wiped at her hands with a shop towel.  “And you know I rarely get my nose into people’s personal business, but I’m worried.  What’s going on with you?”

 

B’Elanna was as bewildered as Kathryn.  “I can’t say anything for certain.  I don’t know why I would act like that.  I love Kieran, and Tom Paris--well, I was done with him a long time ago.  Maybe it was the alcohol.  Maybe I was overtired.  I truly am baffled at myself.  But Seven told me I was behaving very badly.”

 

Kathryn nodded.  “Seven didn’t see the half of it,” she advised pointedly.

 

“What do you mean?” B’Elanna’s heart started to race nervously.

 

Kathryn explained how she and Kieran had come to Sandrine’s to get B’Elanna, and that by then, B’Elanna was actually making out with Tom, not just flirting.

 

“Are you sure?” B’Elanna pinched the bridge of her nose, forestalling a raging headache.  “I don’t remember, I swear.”

 

“I’m sure.  We both saw you.  I don’t need to tell you, B’Elanna, Kieran is taking this very, very seriously.  If you intend to save your marriage, you’d better get cracking.  I’ve never seen her so deeply disturbed and distraught,” Janeway warned.

 

B’Elanna nodded resolutely.  “I understand.  I’ll talk to her soon.”

 

“Good,” Janeway commended her.  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’d better wash up.  This gunk is starting to burn my hands.”

 

B’Elanna looked at Kathryn’s fingers.  “Go wash in the hazmat.  That material should not cause burning at all.  I think I’d better analyze it.  Maybe I can figure out what’s making the damned things disintegrate.”

 

“Keep me posted.  And B’Elanna?  If you and Kieran need anything, ask,” she said firmly.

 

 

________________

 

Intrepid class vessels have a very short, but intricate, grapevine.  Before Beta shift had begun, everyone on Voyager had heard the rumors about Tom and B'Elanna, and the opposing factions had begun squaring off in the court of public opinion.  Some said that the break up between B'Elanna and Kieran was payback for Kieran breaking up Tom and B'Elanna in the first place, which wasn’t even an accurate statement of the historical facts.  Others contended that B'Elanna had taken leave of her senses, and should beg Kieran’s forgiveness.  There was a prominent sentiment that Tom had stuck his nose where it didn’t belong, and should butt out.  A small cell held that no relationship with two women could last.  A fringe group started the rumor that Kieran was in love with the Captain, and that had pushed B'Elanna into Tom’s arms.

 

Kieran had begun to hear snippets, and was disgusted by the whole thing.  B'Elanna was mortified that people believed she was sleeping with Tom Paris, and had actually shouted at a couple of crewmen who were staring at her as she passed by that she “loved her wife and was not sleeping around”.  Captain Janeway came down hard on anyone she overheard spreading gossip, but her patience was wearing thin.

 

Kieran sat in the Captain’s ready room, wolfing down her dinner and poring over a study guide for the final command exam.  She wasn’t really able to concentrate, but she kept trying.  The chime to the ready room sounded.

 

“Come,” she called out.

 

Noah Lessing stepped into the office, smiling.  “Hey you,” he held out his arms.

 

Kieran’s façade crumbled immediately, and she ran to him, collapsing into his embrace with a sob. 

 

He patted her back soothingly, holding tightly to her.  “It’s okay, KT,” he murmured.  “It’s okay.”

 

Kieran let herself cry, feeling totally safe with her basketball buddy, knowing he had had his own problems with Rachel McVicker.  He had come to Kieran many times to unload his issues about Rachel, and felt he owed Kieran the same ear to bend.

 

“God,” Kieran suppressed a sob, covering her mouth.  “Now I know what you went through with Rachel,” she admitted.

 

“Yeah,” Noah agreed, running his hand over Kieran’s braided chestnut hair.  “It sucks to be in love with someone who thinks you have the wrong equipment for the job,” he chuckled wryly.  “Aren’t we a pair?  I’m in love with a lesbian, you’re in love with a straight woman.  Maybe we should’ve just traded partners before Rachel dumped me,” he teased.

 

Kieran sniffled loudly.  “You’re so pragmatic, Noah.  God, I love you.”

 

He grinned proudly.  “It might have worked, you know,” he chuckled.  “Rach sure thinks you’re a good idea, anyway,” he joked.

 

“Yeah?  Maybe we should’ve,” Kieran played along.  “She’s gorgeous, you know.  But B'Elanna might hurt you, Noah,” she waggled her eyebrows.

 

He growled like a cat.  “Bring it on, baby,” he laughed.  Then feigning a higher voice he said “Is that a bat’leth in your pocket, honey, or are you just happy to see me?”

 

Kieran smacked his arm.  “You’re such a pig.”

 

He nodded.  “So are you, and that’s why you like me,” he accused.

 

“Yeah.  Rachel does have a great little ass,” Kieran pretended to care.

 

“See?  Who else lets you be your true pig self but me, KT?” he hugged her.

 

Kieran pulled the large, dark skinned Ensign up the stairs by his hand and settled them both on the Captain’s couch.  “Seriously, Noah.  What am I going to do?” she asked plaintively.

 

He frowned.  “Has she really taken up with that sissy boy?”

 

“I don’t think so.  But she was drunk at Sandrine’s night before last, and he was giving her some serious bump and grind action.  She wasn’t complaining any,” Kieran confided.

 

“I heard about that,” Noah agreed.  “I could kick his sorry ass,” he offered.

 

Kieran laughed.  “So could I.  I don’t think that will solve the problem.”

 

Noah laughed with her.  “Yeah, you could.  And no, it wouldn’t.  Damn.  I’d enjoy kicking his ass, though.”

 

“Me too,” Kieran agreed, squeezing his hand. 

 

“Latest scuttlebutt is that you’re in love with Janeway, and that sent B'Elanna running for helmboy,” Noah reported.  “Tell me you do not love our lady of the two foot bun,” he joked.

 

“She hasn’t worn her hair like that in years,” Kieran defended her friend.  “And no, I’m not in love with Kathryn.  What is wrong with the people on this ship?  They must think Voyager’s just an orgy with nacelles.  When would I even find time for an affair?  Hell, that’s half the problem.  I don’t have time to do my own wife, let alone Seven’s,” she spat in disgust.

 

“People without lives of their own,” he concluded.  “Ignore them, I say.  Only thing that matters is what you and B'Elanna believe.  I have it on fairly good authority that she wants to apologize, but has just been waiting for you to give her the chance.”

 

“What authority?” Kieran demanded.

 

Noah grinned.  “I cannot divulge my sources.”

 

“I’m your acting Captain, Mr. Lessing,” Kieran tried to sound menacing.

 

“Let’s just say I had a little chat with a strawberry blonde knockout over drinks,” he said smugly.

 

Kieran laughed.  “A ten year old knockout?  One who drinks chocolate milk?”

 

“Jailbait?  Me?” he sounded offended.  “Yeah, Naomi has been trying to play mediator.  Man, KT, if she gets any prettier, she’s going to need a bodyguard twenty-four seven.  I’ve seen a lot of the guys checking her out.  And by the way, Naomi says B'Elanna is a mess.”

 

“She hasn’t said a word to me,” Kieran swallowed her injured tone.  “I guess B'Elanna is her idol now that she’s the ship’s junior engineer.  That stings.”

 

“Don’t let it get to you, KT.  Kids are like that.  Naomi may be consorting with the enemy, but she has the greater diplomatic good in mind,” he assured his lanky friend.

 

“Well, Na would know.  If B'Elanna didn’t confide directly in Naomi, she’d confide in Seven of Nine, and whatever Seven knows, Naomi finds out.  She’s a mess, huh?”

 

“That’s the word.  You need to go home, KT.  Talk to her.  If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t.  At least you will have tried.  And hey—you’ve always got me.  That’d make Rachel totally green, her ex-boyfriend and the most eligible lesbian getting together.  Shit, let’s do it just to see what the rumor mill says about it,” he slapped his thigh.

 

Kieran nodded.  “If B'Elanna dumps me, you’re on.  Wouldn’t that confuse hell out of everyone?”

 

Noah laughed.  “We’ve got to do it.  We’ll go make out in Sandrine’s, then sit back and watch the fireworks,” he nodded eagerly.

 

“Shit, maybe I should just take you home with me.  That might get B'Elanna over this infatuation with Tom.  At least you’re the kind of man I could understand her being attracted to.”

 

Noah stood to go.  “Thanks, KT.  But don’t think I’m gonna share my next girlfriend with you just because you’re gonna share B'Elanna,” he needled her.

 

“See?  I try to be nice, and you’re just a pig, Noah.”

 

“Oink,” he replied, loping toward the exit.  “Hey KT, I better not hear about you sleeping in here again.  If you don’t want to go home, you come stay with me,” he turned back, giving the Counselor a piercing look.  “I mean it.  Why didn’t you come over last night?” he sounded genuinely hurt.

 

Kieran shrugged.  “I dunno, bud.  I was so upset, I didn’t know my elbow from my ass, I guess.  But I’ll take you up on the offer tonight, if I decide not to go home again.  Okay?”

 

“More than okay,” he nodded.  “I love you, KT.  Hang in, girl.”

 

Kieran smiled fondly.  “I love you, too, bud.”

 

He had only been gone a couple of minutes when the chime sounded again.

 

“Come,” Kieran called out, feeling much better.

 

Kathryn Janeway knelt in the doorway with an enormous bouquet, so the entire bridge crew from Beta shift could see.

 

“Darling!” she shouted dramatically to Kieran.

 

Kieran nearly doubled over, watching the bridge crew as their jaws hit the deck plating.  “Dear God, Kathryn, you’re going to add fuel to the fire.”

 

Kathryn got up and handed Kieran the flowers, smirking.  “Do you believe it?  I’m tempted to run constant battle drills just to wear them out.  They obviously have too much time on their hands, if they’ve got time to make up this crap.  So, did you miss me, sugar lips?”

 

Kieran rolled her eyes.  “Oh, yes, lambie-pie, terribly.  We have to stop meeting like this.  Seven could override the privacy seal.”

 

“She was not amused at that particular rumor,” Kathryn reported, grinning.

 

“I bet,” Kieran agreed, flopping down on the couch with her friend, resting the huge bouquet on the cushions beside her.  “Wanna hear something funny?”

 

“Always,” Kathryn replied.

 

“I got three barely disguised propositions in my comm account today.”

 

“The vultures are circling,” Kathryn scowled with contempt.  “Honestly!”  Then lowering her voice, she leaned closer. “Who?”

 

Kieran threw back her head, laughing.  “Like I’m going to tell you that?”

 

“I’d tell you,” Kathryn pouted.  “I’ll never let on that I know.  Tell me.”

 

Kieran gave her a scathing look.  “One was from Seven.”

 

“Okay, I deserved that,” Kathryn admitted.

 

“Yes, you did.  Is this an official visit?” she brought them back to center.

 

“No.  Did you talk to B'Elanna?”

 

Kieran studied her boot, averting her eyes.  “No.  I’m going to.  Eventually.”

 

Kathryn frowned, her blue-gray eyes clouding over.  “Kato, you can’t avoid her forever.”

 

“I won’t,” Kieran protested.  “It’s just so raw, right now, I don’t think I can face her without getting furious again.  And that’s not productive.”

 

The ready room chime sounded.  Kieran smiled ruefully.  “Duty calls.  You better get home, Kat.”  Then to the unannounced visitor she called out “Come in.”

 

B'Elanna Thompson-Torres stood in the doorway, suddenly self-conscious.  “I—uh—am I interrupting?”

 

Before Kieran could say “yes”, Kathryn jumped up to go.  “Not at all, Lieutenant.  Please, come in.  I was just leaving.”  Kathryn snatched the bouquet.  “I’ll take these to Seven, if you don’t mind,” she added.

 

Kieran shot her a dirty look for lying to B’Elanna, but nodded about the flowers.  “Come on in,” Kieran acquiesced, pointing B’Elanna to the chair in front of the Captain’s desk.

 

B'Elanna would have much rather joined Kieran on the couch, but obediently sat in the chair.  Kieran descended the stairs and took a seat behind the desk as Kathryn slipped out of the ready room.

 

Kieran studied her wife as she arranged herself in Kathryn’s chair.  Only hours before, she had feared for the loss of her marriage, had quaked at the thought of B'Elanna slipping away.  Somehow the sight of her sparked anger and hurt all over again, and the chance at reconciliation was gone in an instant.

 

“Are you here to see me about ship’s business, or is this personal?” she asked hesitantly. 

 

“It’s personal,” B'Elanna clenched and unclenched her fists nervously. 

 

“I’m listening,” Kieran said, allowing B'Elanna to say whatever she had come to say.

 

“You didn’t come home last night,” she stated flatly.

 

Kieran shrugged. 

 

B'Elanna leaned across the desk, supporting her weight on her arms.  “I’m sorry, Benal, I know you’re angry, but—”

 

Kieran cut her off.  “How could you, Lanna?” her voice was steel and ice.  “You know better than anyone how I feel about—that,” she finished vaguely.

 

B'Elanna wanted to touch her, but knew Kieran would not permit it.  “It’s not what you think,” she protested vehemently.  “I haven’t broken any of our vows,” she defended herself.

 

Kieran smirked.  “Technically,” she pointed out.  “But in spirit, I think you have.”

 

B'Elanna teetered on the verge of an angry reply, but caught herself.  Reacting from fear would only exacerbate the problem.  “I swear to you, that’s not true, Kieran.  I know what you think you saw, but that’s not what’s in my heart.  I don’t even remember most of that night.”

 

Kieran barely controlled her tone.  “You put yourself in that situation.  That was your choice.  My training tells me that people use alcohol to lower their inhibitions and defenses, and the resulting behavior is, at its most basic level, an expression of what that person really feels.  Your better judgment may have been impaired,” she allowed angrily, her jaw set, “but what I saw tells me there are some very serious issues here.  Frankly, B'Elanna, I don’t even know how to begin to address those issues.  And right now, I have so little trust in you, I’m not ready to open myself up enough to address this.”

 

B'Elanna’s vision blurred with tears, but she kept them in check.  “Please, KT, don’t shut me out,” she pleaded softly.  “I love you.  Don’t do this.”

 

Kieran’s throat burned, her eyes stung, but her walls were firmly in place.  “I’m sorry.  I just can’t talk about this right now.  You know my buttons, B'Elanna, and you pushed the worst one.  It brought back so many bad memories,” she looked away, composing herself.  She took a couple of deep breaths and swallowed.  “I just have to get past the initial shock.  Then maybe we can talk.  But right now, I just can’t believe you could be so careless with my heart.  You’re the one person I never thought I’d have to protect myself from.”

 

B'Elanna hung her head in shame.  “Please come home tonight,” she begged.  “Don’t close Katie out because you’re mad at me.  I’ll sleep on the couch, if you want, but don’t stay away from her,” she played her trump card.

 

It wasn’t working.

 

“I can see Katie at childcare on my lunch break, like I did today.  For now, I’m going to be staying with Noah.  I’ll let you know when I’m ready to talk.  In the meantime,” she sighed, exhausted from repressing her tears, “you need to think about what you really want, B'Elanna.  Because I’m never going to be anything more or less than a woman who loves you.  You need to decide if that’s enough.”

 

Now B'Elanna was truly confused.  “What do you mean?”

 

Kieran stood up, indicating the discussion was closed.  “Good-night, Lieutenant,” she replied coldly.

 

B'Elanna Thompson-Torres left the ready room, uncertain of what had just happened.

 

_____________

 

Seven of Nine, formerly of the Borg collective, studied her best friend with a piteous expression.  B'Elanna Thompson-Torres had hardly touched her dinner, so distraught was she.  Seven had given up encouraging her to eat.

 

“What do you think she meant by it, Seven?  Why would she question if she’s enough?” B'Elanna pushed her food around on her plate distractedly. 

 

Seven considered.  She knew from talking to Kathryn what the issue was for Kieran, but she didn’t know if she should disclose what she knew.   Finally, she decided to throw caution to the wind.  “I believe,” she replied carefully, “that Kieran is questioning whether you are capable of being sexually satisfied over the long term with a female partner.  You have never been with a woman, until her,” Seven logically pointed out.

 

B'Elanna’s eyes widened.  “Wait—she thinks—what?  I want to get—fucked?”

 

Seven inclined her head inquisitively.  “Don’t you?  You were certainly acting like it at Sandrine’s.  Perhaps Kieran is asking you to think about your deeper motives and needs,” she intoned gently, her ice blue eyes warming momentarily.  “It seems like a valid question, in light of your recent behavior.”

 

B'Elanna was dumbfounded.  “Oh my God, Seven.  I don’t need—that,” she contended.  “I’m perfectly satisfied with Kieran.”

 

“You don’t miss the inclusion of a penis in your sexual activities?” Seven asked matter-of-factly.  “When you were lovers with Tom Paris, you certainly seemed to enjoy that aspect of sexuality.”

 

B'Elanna colored slightly.  “How would you know?”

 

Seven rolled her eyes.  “You and Tom were seen together on various occasions, practically engaging in intercourse in public.  You were even reprimanded for being so indiscreet, as I recall.”

 

“Kathryn told you about that?” B'Elanna sputtered.

 

“No,” Seven assured her.  “I heard it from Harry, who heard it from Tom.”

 

“Kahless with a bat’leth up his ass,” she swore.  “I suppose Kieran has heard about it, too then.”

 

“Quite likely,” Seven replied honestly.  “If your desire for Mr. Paris was so strong then, perhaps she is right to worry that she is not, ‘enough’, as she put it.”

 

“That’s ridiculous,” B'Elanna waved her hand dismissively.  “The only thing I miss about Tom, or any man for that matter, is that they aren’t willing to go without sex for very long, and they are very demanding about that.”

 

“Then Kieran is correct.  There are things you miss,” Seven stated unequivocally.  “The frequency of sex, and the vehemence about it.”

 

B'Elanna thought about it momentarily.  “That’s pretty minor, don’t you think?”

 

Seven shrugged.  “It is apparently major enough to make you behave like an ass,” she helpfully observed.

 

B'Elanna scowled at her, but knew Seven was just being frank.  “That still doesn’t mean I need a man to get what I want,” she argued, “unless Kieran isn’t willing to be more assertive.”

 

“Perhaps you are the one who needs to be assertive,” Seven noted.  “It is, after all, more in your nature than Kieran’s.”

 

B'Elanna considered that.  “I don’t think I’m unhappy with her, and I certainly don’t think I’d be happier with a man,” she decided.  “I’m just sick of her being gone all the time.  And I think because she’s gone all the time, our sex life suffers.”

 

Seven nodded.  “It is a difficult balance to strike.  Kathryn and I had to work on it very early on in our marriage.  Luckily for me, she is accustomed to being demanding, and she keeps our frequency on track.  But it would be very easy to slip into the habit of avoiding sex, as busy as we both are, and with the children needing so much of our time and attention,” Seven allowed.

 

B'Elanna studied her plate sadly.  “I guess Kieran has tried to accommodate my needs, only I’m so stubborn sometimes, I won’t let her.  I get my head up my ass, and I forget that what’s important is that we both try.  I’ve made such a mess of this, Seven.  She won’t even talk to me.”

 

“If it were me,” Seven advised quietly, “I’d keep trying.  Send her notes.  Tell her what you’ve been feeling.  Kieran won’t turn away from you if you’re really sincere about working things out.  She loves you, B'Elanna.”

 

B'Elanna sighed resolutely.  “Okay.  I’ll swallow my pride—again.  I’ll write to her tonight before bed.  Thanks for listening, Seven.”

 

The statuesque Borg hugged her friend tightly.  “It will be okay, B'Elanna.  I’m sure of it.”

 

________________

 

B'Elanna Thompson-Torres composed what she thought was a very apologetic, soul-searching letter and sent it to Kieran’s comm account.  When she checked the system again just before the end of Beta shift, the sentry told her that Kieran had not retrieved or opened the message.  And for the second night in a row, Kieran did not go home.

 

Kieran left the bridge when Gamma shift reported, and took the turbo lift to deck three, but she only made it as far as their door.  She couldn’t bring herself to key the entry or to face her wife.  Instead, she made her way to Noah Lessing’s quarters, where she could sort out her thoughts and avoid an argument with B'Elanna.

 

She sounded the door chime, hoping he would awaken quickly.  The door slid back, and he smiled broadly at her.  “KT!” he said cheerfully, “you look beat.  Come on in.”

 

“Thanks, bud.  I’m dragging,” she admitted.  “Is it really okay if I stay with you?”

 

“You know it,” he nodded, pulling her inside.  “I’ll just toss a sheet and a pillow on the sofa and you can go curl up in my bed.  I put clean sheets on it.

 

Kieran smiled.  “You knew I wouldn’t go home?”

 

Noah grinned.  “I know you, KT.  You come hang with me, get your head on straight, and then you go talk to that Klingon wife of yours.  It’ll be fine.  Want a beer?”

 

“No thanks, bud.  I’m really tired, so if it’s okay with you, I’d like to go right to sleep.”

 

He hugged her and took her to his room.  “Absolutely.  There’s a clean pair of sweats and several t-shirts in the drawer, if you want them.  My pj’s are in the closet, if you prefer real sleepwear,” he added.

 

“I usually just sleep in a t-shirt and my undies,” she advised him.  “I hate the thought of you trying to fit your long legs on that couch, though,” she admitted.  “Why don’t we just share your bed?”

 

He grinned.  “You like to live dangerously,” he commented.  “Rachel said I hogged the whole bed—mattress, pillows, blankets and all.”  He tossed her a t-shirt and turned away while she stripped her uniform off.

 

“Yeah, well, if I can hold my own against a Klingon, I can hold it against you, bud,” she struggled out of her boots.  She didn’t even bother to recycle her uniform, leaving it in a heap on his floor as she pulled on the proffered t-shirt.   “I’m about to fall down,” she noted sleepily, taking his large hand in her own and tugging him to the inviting double bed.  “Don’t let me oversleep, okay bud?”

 

Noah threw back the covers and slid beneath them, holding them up for her.  “Never,” he promised, kissing her cheek.  “Sweet dreams.”

 

Kieran was unconscious before she could answer.

________________

 

Naomi Wildman awoke from another nightmare, bathed in sweat, shivering from the cold chill of the moisture running down her back.  She vomited copiously into her wastebasket, unable to get to the ensuite in time, and choked as she realized there was blood in the fluidic mass.  She retched so loudly, the sound awoke Seven, and the former Borg drone was in Naomi’s room in two steps.

 

Seven sat behind Naomi on the bed, holding her as she threw up, trying to ease her suffering.

 

“It’s worse now, Mom,” Naomi gasped, holding her stomach and groaning.  “I’m bleeding inside,” she managed between vomiting fits.  “I have to get to sickbay.”

 

Seven nodded, hailing the computer for a transport.  It was getting to be a familiar routine, these constant bouts of illness.  The Doctor had haltingly advised the Hansen-Janeways that their daughter was not just going through sexual maturation.  She was aging so rapidly that it was killing her.  The Doctor had no idea what had caused the acceleration, or how to treat it.  He had been working around the clock to address the situation, without any progress.  He could treat the symptoms, but he could not stop the disease, and Naomi was losing ground rapidly.

 

____________

 

 

Kieran awoke once in the middle of the night, thinking she was at home with B'Elanna.  She must have dreamed that Katie was crying, because she woke up thinking she needed to check on the baby.  She shook the cobwebs from her brain, and getting her bearings, realized she wasn’t at home.  Noah was sound asleep with his huge arm wrapped tightly around her waist, and it registered where she was.  She settled back down, and folding her arm over his so that they were both hugging her, she drifted back to sleep.

 

She dreamt of Robin Lefler, and how they had become engaged.

 

***************************************************************************

 

Ensign Kieran Thompson tended to be impetuous and impatient, and her resolve not to propose to Robin Lefler until they reached Starbase 212 faltered well before the Kaelon II mission ended.  She was deeply involved in the helium ignition data analysis, and working long hours, as was Robin.  Perhaps it was her exhaustion that wore down her ability to wait, or perhaps it was because Robin got her hair cut to shoulder length and looked so adorable.  Either way, Kieran’s anticipation got the better of her.

 

Robin came into Ten-Forward looking as sexy as Kieran could ever remember her looking, which Kieran took as a good omen.  She waved the blue-eyed brunette over to the table she had commandeered, smiling and radiant with love for the engineer.  She stood to kiss Robin’s cheek, and helped her to sit down.

 

“How was your day, Robbie?” she asked, not really prepared to listen to the answer.

 

Robin groaned.  “You don’t want to know.  Commander LaForge can be pretty—demanding,” she settled on the least pejorative word, “and he works like a dog, so he expects us all to do the same.”

 

Kieran nodded.  “I know what you mean.  Enterprise isn’t the place to be if you like easy assignments and regular hours.  I’m pretty beat, too,” she admitted.

 

“That’s funny,” Robin flirted, “you look wonderful.  I love that blouse on you,” she leaned closer, dropping her voice an octave.

 

“Mmmm,” Kieran countered, “you like it because it’s low cut.”

 

Robin grinned wolfishly.  “It does provide a nice view,” she admitted.  “I’m not sure I like other people getting the benefit of it though,” she added, still smiling.  “Why don’t we have dinner in my quarters?  Then the view will be all mine.”

 

“I like the sound of that,” Kieran agreed.

 

They would have jogged to Robin’s if it hadn’t been tastelessly obvious, but instead kept their pace at a very brisk walk.  They no more got through the door than Robin pounced on Kieran, kissing her bare chest and throat.

 

They made love fiercely, needfully, without preamble or foreplay.  It was a rare thing for them, but at times, suited them both equally well.  Robin had told Kieran once that “Sometimes, you just want it right now, no questions asked.”  Kieran thought it was amazing that Robin could become aroused so abruptly, and loved that they could make love with physical urgency as well as tenderly.  They lay together in an intimate tangle afterward, listening to one another’s breathing as it evened out.

 

Robin lay curled against Kieran, spent and happy, content in the larger woman’s arms.  “I love how you do that,” she said softly, still a bit breathless.  “Sometimes, I just need to be taken like that, and you always know when to do it,” she complimented her lover.

 

Kieran kissed the top of her head, taking in the scent of her hair.  “I’m glad it’s good for you.  I love you so much,” she whispered intently. 

 

“I love you, too, KT,” Robin murmured. 

 

“In fact, I don’t want us to be apart ever again,” Kieran added.  “I think we belong together.”

 

“Mmmm…feels like it,” Robin replied drowsily.

 

“Robbie?” Kieran wanted to make certain she was awake.  “I need to ask you something.”

 

Robin breathed deeply, sighed gustily, and forced her eyes open again.  She propped herself up on one arm.  “Okay.”

 

Kieran rolled over to face her.  “When I’m with you,” she began tentatively, touching Robin’s face with her fingertips, “I feel whole, like I’ve found my home—my purpose.  I feel like anything is possible.  And I want to feel that way forever.  So,” she quaked inwardly at the ineloquence of the proposal, “will you marry me?”

 

Robin blinked several times, then smiled broadly.  “Oh, KT,” she kissed her impulsively, “yes.  God, I love you so much,” she grabbed her tightly, rolling them over.

 

“Wait,” Kieran laughed happily, kissing her gratefully, “let me do this right,” she requested, fumbling over the side of the bed for her trousers.  She found the pocket and the velvet box she had secreted away, and fished it out.  She popped it open, revealing the token of the commitment. 

 

Robin gasped appreciatively.  “This is incredible,” she rolled back off of her lover, snatching the ring from its nest.  “It’s beautiful, KT.  I love it,” she put it on, kissed Kieran soundly, and found the energy to make love yet again.

 

Kieran Thompson was the happiest woman in the Alpha quadrant.  And she could hardly wait to tell Deanna Troi the good news, since Deanna had been so skeptical about Kieran’s relationship with Robin.

________________

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres awoke to the sound of the alarm in Noah’s quarters, bleary-eyed and pleasantly aroused by the memory of making love with Robin Lefler.  She smiled in her half-awake state, remembering how good she and Robin had been together, then smiling at herself as she realized her nipples were erect and that she had a discernible ache between her legs.

 

Noah was still holding her, and waking up slowly himself.  When he realized he had his arm around her midsection, he pulled away immediately, embarrassed.  “Did I crowd you all night?” he asked in dismay.

 

Kieran rolled over.  “Computer, discontinue alarm,” she ordered, then slipped her arms around his neck.  “You didn’t crowd me, bud.  It was nice to have you hug me all night.”  She pressed against the length of his body, hugging him in return.  “Thanks for keeping me warm and safe,” she added fondly.  She almost laughed at the irony of his rampant erection, which she suddenly felt against her thigh, but allowed that most men wake up that way if they need to use the restroom.  She ignored it to spare him any further embarrassment.  “I’m just going to hit the ensuite,” she offered, easing out of bed so that he wouldn’t have to get up first and reveal his predicament.

 

Noah sighed with relief as he heard the shower kick on.  God, what a time to wake up like that, he groaned inwardly.  And she could have really laid into me about it, but she’s too sweet to humiliate me like that.  I can’t believe Aliqua used to hate lesbians so much, he thought sadly of his sister, who was probably married and raising a passel of children.  Like the crew of Voyager, when Equinox disappeared, Starfleet presumed the crew was dead.  Noah had sent word to his family as soon as Voyager had reestablished contact with the Alpha Quadrant, but Noah had never received a response.  He had no idea if his parents were even alive, or what had become of his sister.   Kieran would change her mind about lesbians, he decided.  Or maybe Aliqua grew up and got over that particular prejudice.  Although, she’d have a thing or two to say about Rachel, I bet.  He sighed, then realized that thinking of his sister had calmed any cravings he might have felt.  Better get up while I’m not up, he grinned to himself.

 

He stepped on Kieran’s uniform, lying in an unceremonious heap on his floor, and chuckled.  I bet she’s a real slob.  I bet B'Elanna has to pick up after her all the time, he decided.  He ran her uniform through the recycling unit and watched as it spit out a freshly cleaned and folded one it its place, then went to make coffee.  He stopped in his tracks as he identified a familiar pattern.  Just like morning with Rachel.  Damn, I miss her.  I wonder if she’s found some woman to date yet.  Huh.  Like any woman with half a lesbian tendency would say no to her.  God, what if Kieran and B'Elanna are really over with—will KT end up with Rachel?  Rachel would come after her in a nanosecond, I just know it.  And how could I ever deal with that—my best friend and my ex-lover?  I’d want KT to be happy, but man, that would be too bizarre to see them together.

 

Kieran came out of the back room fully dressed, smiling at him.  He held out a cup of steaming coffee, and she breathed in the aroma reverently.  “Bless you, Sir,” she said with half-lidded, prayerful eyes.  “Something on your mind?”

 

He hesitated, but knew she’d badger it out of him if he didn’t confess his thoughts.  “I was thinking about Rachel.  And about you,” he admitted sheepishly.  “I mean, if things don’t work out with you and B'Elanna,” he clarified.

 

Kieran sat down at the two-seat breakfast bar.  “Noah,” she intoned reproachfully, “do you think for a second I’d date your ex?”

 

He sat down beside her, studying his coffee.  “I don’t know, KT.  I mean, why shouldn’t you?  And if you did, shouldn’t I be happy for you?  You’re my best bud.”

 

Kieran shook her head regretfully.  “Bud, you need to know something about me.  I take boundaries very, very seriously.  There are certain boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed, regardless of how much people want to cross them.  Rachel is a line firmly drawn in the sand, as far as our relationship is concerned.  As long as you have feelings for her, I will never, ever touch her, no matter how single I may be in the near future.  I would never do anything to make you feel awkward, or to distance you from me.  That’s just how I’m wired.  I can’t stand gray areas,” she advised him sternly.  “And besides, things will work out with me and B'Elanna.  I just need to figure out how to approach this whole bisexual thing.”

 

Noah gulped his coffee.  “Don’t tell me you’d seriously consider letting her exercise her—um—propensities,” he was nearly aghast.

 

Kieran shook her head.  “That’s another boundary for me.  Fidelity is absolute.  I meant more that I have to find a way to talk to her about whether or not she can live with that boundary in our marriage, because if she can’t, it’s over.”

 

Noah admired his friend for her convictions, although he feared they would cost her her marriage.  “You know, KT, there are—ways—um—things you could do to give B'Elanna the best of both worlds,” he hinted.

 

She quirked an eyebrow at him.  “I’m not sure I follow.  Like I said, an open relationship is out of the question.”

 

“Not that,” Noah reassured her.  “There are techniques you could use with her, if you get my meaning.”

 

Kieran was completely baffled.  “No, I don’t get it.”

 

Oh Jesus, why did I even bring it up, he rolled his eyes inwardly.  “Let me show you some information,” he offered, going to his workstation.  He punched in a few commands, paged through some of the data, and turned the display toward her.  There in all their graphic glory were several artificial phalluses and various devices for affixing them to a female partner.

 

Kieran’s eyes widened in horror.  “You’re joking, right?” she demanded.

 

Noah’s mouth went dry.  “No, I’m not.  If you really love her, KT, why not give her the only thing a man could that you ordinarily couldn’t?” he implored.

 

Kieran blushed from her neck to her hairline, her ears fairly ablaze.  “It’s—God, Noah, clear that display,” she turned away squeamishly.  She hid her face in her coffee mug, trying to regain her composure.

 

Noah obediently turned off the screen, rejoining her at the breakfast bar.  “KT,” he said gently, “I’m not trying to be vulgar.  I’m just trying to tell you, there are things you could try, if this is really important to her.”

 

Kieran drew a shaky breath, eyes closed.  “I know you’re trying to help, Noah.  But that’s a little extreme, don’t you think?  I mean—I am what I am, and I don’t come equipped that way by any natural means.”

 

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said apologetically.  “And it’s really none of my business.  But if it were my wife, I’d find a way to keep an open mind, if it was something she needed, and if it would mean we had a happier marriage.  Isn’t that the most important thing?” he asked persuasively.

 

Kieran finished her coffee.  “I don’t know, Noah.  That’s just so—I can’t even think of the word.  Maybe if that’s what she needs, she should be with a man.”

 

“What if she needs that sometimes, but you most of the time?” he persisted.  “What if she needs you more of the time than she needs that?”

 

Kieran couldn’t think about it anymore.  “I don’t know.  It never occurred to me.  Christ, this is confusing.  Now I know why most lesbians stay the hell away from bisexual women.  It’s enough to give you a headache,” she complained.

 

Noah studied her carefully.  “KT, you’ve dated plenty of bisexual women,” he pointed out.  “Claren James, Lauren Gaines—you dated them before B'Elanna, and they’ve both dated men since then.  Why is it so different with B'Elanna?”

 

Kieran hung her head.  “I wasn’t in love with either of them, and I wasn’t married to them.  And neither of them expressed any desire for male partners while I was sleeping with them.  That’s the difference.”

 

Noah decided to take it in baby steps.  “All I’m saying is don’t rule it out.  Don’t just assume there’s nothing you can do about her being bisexual.  Okay?”

 

Kieran nodded.  “Okay.  I’ve got to go.  It’s getting late.  Thanks for letting me stay here.”

 

He smiled, kissing her cheek.  “Anytime.  My access code is Gamma five nine pi.  If you need a place to stay tonight, just let yourself in.”

 

She smiled at him.  “You’re the best, bud.”

 

_____________

 

Kieran went to work, but her thoughts returned to Robin Lefler, try though she might to block the painful memories.  She was astonished at how little the passage of time had diminished the hurt.  She wondered if she would ever be able to think about Robin without feeling depressed.  And she wondered if B'Elanna would also be relegated to the laundry list of memories that wounded her.

 

***************************************************************************

 

Ensign Kieran Thompson had been walking around in a delirious daze ever since Robin Lefler had agreed to marry her.  Robin had asked that they limit telling their plans to a few close friends, at least until she could contact her parents and advise them.  She didn’t want them to find out through the grapevine that ran through the ranks of Starfleet, so Kieran agreed to hold off on any announcements until the families had been informed.

 

Kieran was almost bursting with the weight of the happy news, and had it not been for Deanna Troi, she would surely have blurted it out several times.  Deanna had done a remarkable job of hiding her reaction to the young Ensign’s babbling, exuberant joy.  She had to bite her tongue to keep from saying that she had known of three former engagements just since Robin had been aboard Enterpise, but she managed not to disclose that fact.  Besides, she reasoned, Robin had probably told Kieran all about it.

 

Kieran had been a little perplexed when she and Robin contacted Lieutenant Commander Mason Lefler and his wife Joanne, and the first words out of Joanne’s mouth after Robin stated she was engaged were “Who is it this week, dear?”  Robin had explained it away by saying that her parents never took anything she did seriously, and were the bane of her existence.  She assured her betrothed that “Mom was just kidding around”.  Kieran believed the explanation wholeheartedly.

 

The first evening at Starbase 212, Kieran and Robin went to a nightclub that was legendary in Starfleet, a loud, dark place dubbed the Black Hole.   They had barely retrieved their first drinks when Robin ran into an old quadmate from the Academy.  Quick introductions were made, and Robin and her friend Rosa were gabbing like two magpies.

 

“Oh my God,” Rosa, a native of California, breathed dramatically.  “You have to meet Captain Mike.  He is just so awesome,” she enthused.  “He’s meeting some of us here later.”

 

“Mike Kirk?” Robin asked. 

 

“The one and only.  He just got command of the Newton a few months ago, and we love him,” Rosa sipped her wine spritzer.  “He’s young enough to remember what it’s like to be one of us,” she emphasized.  “He parties with us and everything.”

 

Kieran tried to get herself into the conversation.  “You’re talking about James T. Kirk’s—what?  Great, great, great, great nephew?”

 

Robin’s brow furrowed.  “I don’t think he’s a nephew.  But he’s some relative of Jim Kirk’s.”

 

Rosa leaned closer.  “Only he’s much better looking,” she giggled girlishly.  “Right up your vector, Lefler,” she nudged her old pal, “and I don’t see any rings on your finger,” she grabbed Robin’s hand and examined it, as if she expected a diamond to sprout before her very eyes.  She flipped her long, black hair over her shoulders, scanning the room.  “Not much to look at in here.”

 

Kieran started to protest that Robin was indeed wearing a ring, but realized that Robin had not put it on before their date.  “Why aren’t you wearing—? she began, but Robin cut her off.

 

“We agreed to wait, KT,” she smiled tightly at her lover, laying her hand over Kieran’s.

 

“We agreed to wait until we’d told our parents, which we did a few hours ago,” Kieran argued, feeling slighted.

 

“I know, honey, but I wanted to make a big announcement with all sorts of fanfare,” Robin squeezed her hand persuasively.  “You want to make me happy, don’t you?  This is so important to me,” she pouted.  “And to be honest, I just forgot to put on your ring,” she whispered intimately.

 

Kieran smiled.  “That’s okay.  Just don’t let your friend pair you off with Captain Kirk, okay?”

 

Robin laughed.  “You nut,” was all she said.  “Rosa, tell me about what happened with you and Jordan.”

 

And they were off on another tangent.

 

Kieran listened half-heartedly, thinking about her engagement.  Something didn’t feel right, and it had all started with an argument she had had with Robin earlier in the day.  She had been telling Robin about the Counselor Training program at the Academy, about her future aspirations, and Robin had tried to talk her out of going through the program.  Kieran had balked at the mere suggestion, but Robin insisted that Kieran should consider a command track instead. 

 

“What are you really trying to say, Robin?” Kieran had demanded.  “Stop beating around the bush.”

 

“Okay,” Robin had acquiesced.  “Bottom line.  If you go back to the Academy, we’ll end up being apart.  I can’t just resign my commission, KT,” she had emphasized.  “But if you pursue a command track, we can stay on the Enterprise.  Commander Riker has trained a lot of officers for the bridge exam, and you don’t have to go back to Starfleet for it.  Don’t you want to be with me?”

 

Kieran swallowed hard.  “Of course I do.  I did ask you to marry me,” she pointed out.  “But I don’t have any desire or aptitude for command.  I want to be a Ship’s Counselor.  I’m sure if I get accepted, Captain Picard and Deanna will pull whatever strings they can to get you a posting at headquarters.  Geordi is a big fan of mine—he’d do whatever he could to help us, Robin.”

 

Robin crossed her arms defiantly.  “Oh, so I should just put my career on hold while you go to school?”

 

“How is a reassignment tantamount to putting your career on hold?” Kieran had demanded to know.  “You don’t even know what the opportunities might be, until we explore the options,” she tried to be reasonable.

 

“Look,” Robin had finally decided, “I don’t want to fight.  I’m just saying, there are obstacles, not the least of which is that I’d be giving up a post on the flagship of the fleet,” she correctly noted.  “And you’re selling yourself short if you think you have no command aptitude.  You are already a born leader, KT.  Your athletic achievements are testimony to that,” she tried to be persuasive.  “Think about it.”

 

Kieran shook her head.  “Even if I were the best leader, I’m not really interested.  It’s just not who I am,” she reiterated.

 

Kieran considered the argument carefully, as Robin and Rosa chattered away.  Robin had been cold ever since, Kieran realized, and it seemed to be something more than just irritation over having had a disagreement.  Kieran believed in symbolism and the need for it culturally, and she felt Robin’s ‘forgetting’ to wear her engagement ring signified more than a memory lapse.

 

And the whole tone of the argument had been—wrong.  It was how Robin trivialized Kieran’s career aspirations, the cursory dismissal of their importance, that disturbed Kieran.  She wondered if she might be so accustomed to getting her own way that she was being unfair.  She decided to let it slide for now. 

 

What she failed to appreciate about Robin’s motives were rooted in Robin’s two biggest fears:  the fear of being alone, and the fear of being insignificant.  Robin had essentially gone from relationship to relationship for her entire adult life, rather than be alone.  She hated sleeping alone, especially, and in her time on Enterprise, she could count the number of times she had done so on one hand. 

 

More than that, Robin wanted to be important in the eyes of others, envied and admired, and that meant having a successful and esteemed career, and a successful and esteemed partner.  Kieran had fit the bill at first glance.  But Robin had always imagined herself with someone that wore a command red uniform, and the less glorified life of a Ship’s Counselor held no more appeal than a galley worker for the ambitious engineer.  If Kieran wasn’t open to being redirected, Robin’s interest would falter in short order.

 

***************************************************************************

 

Kieran excused herself to go to the restroom, and when she came back, Robin was nowhere in sight.  She found Rosa and three of her crewmates at their table, pretty well intoxicated and laughing loudly. 

 

“Where did Robin go?” she asked over the din.

 

Rosa pointed to the dance floor, where Mike Kirk and Robin Lefler were moving to music that pulsed so obnoxiously, you couldn’t make out a melody.  “Dancin’ with Cap’n Mike,” Rosa yelled back.

 

“Do you wanna dance?” a dark haired young man asked her.  She couldn’t remember his name.

 

“No thanks,” Kieran replied pleasantly.

 

“Well you don’t have to be a bitch about it,” he snarled at her.

 

“I didn’t think I was,” Kieran was taken aback at his tone.

 

“Yeah, I bet.  Rosa told us Robin was hanging out with some dyke who had been slobbering all over her all night,” he shot back.

 

Kieran stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over her stool.  “She happens to be engaged to me,” Kieran squared off, ready to hit him if he swung first.

 

“Yeah?  Doesn’t look like it to me,” he laughed, looking toward the dance floor.

 

Kieran’s eyes followed the direction of his glare.  Robin was gyrating with her arms up in the air, Mike Kirk pressed against her back side, holding her hips in his hands as he moved.

 

That’s just the alcohol.  We should’ve had synthehol instead.  Hell, let her have fun.  She probably won’t get a bachelorette party, so why not? Kieran told herself.  She decided she didn’t care much for Robin’s old roommate and her crewmates from the Newton, so she excused herself.  She went back to the Enterprise and asked the computer to advise her when Robin came back aboard.  She ended up falling asleep, and when the computer alerted her, it was four a.m.  She decided to stay in her own bed, instead of going to meet Robin.  And that was the fatal error.

 

***************************************************************************

 

“Where the hell is she?” Kieran demanded of Deanna Troi.  “She was supposed to be here an hour ago.”

 

Deanna smiled reassuringly.  “Your award isn’t up for another fifteen minutes.  Don’t worry.”

 

Kieran nodded.  “We’re supposed to make our announcement at the reception.  And I wanted her to be here for this, too,” she sounded hurt.

 

Deanna took Kieran’s arm.  “She was there when you got your first field commendation.  She’s not going to miss your second, KT.  She’s more proud of your accomplishments than you are.”

 

Kieran didn’t want to tell Deanna that Robin had been acting more impressed with Mike Kirk the night before than with Kieran.

 

The time came and Robin had still not  shown up to see Kieran get her commendation.  Kieran was so angry she hardly smiled when the Captain shook her hand.  She left the ceremonies as soon as her moment on stage was over, determined to find her lover.  She might miss important ship’s functions, but she was not going to skip out on announcing their engagement.

 

“Computer, locate Robin Lefler,” Kieran requested as she strode angrily down the corridor.

 

“Robin Lefler is in her quarters.”

 

Kieran had suspected as much.  Probably nursing a hangover.  She ignored my hails all damned day.  Dr. Crusher could’ve given her a hypospray for it, if she’d asked.  Hell, she’s probably still asleep.  Kieran marched from the turbo lift to Robin’s quarters and punched in the access code, steaming mad.

 

“Robin?” she called out as she walked through the sparsely appointed living room.  “Robin, you missed the—”

 

Kieran stepped into the dimly lit bedroom and stopped in her tracks.  She could see that Robin was in bed, with someone else on top of her.  Then she was suddenly face to face with a very naked Mike Kirk.

 

“Ensign,” he barked.  “Do you always enter private quarters unannounced and uninvited?”

 

“Do you always fuck whomever you please without regard for the fact that they might be engaged to someone else, Captain?” she shot back.

 

Kirk stepped toward her menacingly.

 

“Please do it,” she hissed in his face, “so I can bring you up on charges.  Nothing would please me more than getting your ass court-martialed.”  She turned to Robin, whom she could barely see.  “Is this it then?  You obviously weren’t planning to show up to announce our engagement to the crew,” she spat.  “Just tell me where my ring is, and I’ll be on my way.”

 

“On the dresser, where it was last night,” a muffled reply came from the direction of the bed.

 

Kieran pushed by the naked Captain, feeling around on the aforementioned piece of furniture.  She felt her fingers close around the velvet box, snatched it and retreated, her blood rushing in her ears.  Deanna Troi was waiting in the corridor for her.

 

“I thought I might find you here,” she said mildly.  “I take it Robin wasn’t alone?”

 

Kieran shook her head belligerently.  “How did you know?”

 

Deanna shrugged.  “It’s a pattern with her.  She’s been engaged three times before you,” Deanna explained, taking Kieran’s arm and leading her away from the offending doorway.  “Robin has a strange way of ending relationships,” she noted wryly.  “She isn’t very good at confrontation, so she arranges for her lover to find her in a compromising position that makes the break up inevitable,” she recounted.

 

“Christ, Deanna, why didn’t you tell me that part?  You managed to tell me all her other faults,” Kieran bitched, hot tears streaming down her face.

 

“I hoped this time, it would be different.  I should have told you, though.  I’m sorry,” she acknowledged, her dark eyes shining.  “I have several bottles of bloodwine in my quarters, if you’d prefer not to be alone right now.”

 

“Private reserve?” Kieran smarted.

 

Deanna smiled.  “Worf.  He gives it as gifts, and he and I have become close.  I haven’t got the heart to tell him I can’t stand the stuff.”

 

“I love it, myself,” Kieran forced herself to laugh, though she felt miserable. 

 

“Then you can have all you want.  I’ll just save a bottle for appearances, and he’ll think I’ve been drinking it,” she squeezed Kieran’s arm.

 

“Deanna?” Kieran’s voice almost disappeared.

 

“Yes?” she leaned in closer as they walked.

 

“I don’t think I can get through this,” she admitted, breaking down.

 

“Yes, you can.  And you will,” she assured her, wrapping her in firm arms.  “Computer, site to site transport.  Two to beam to my quarters.”

 

Several hours later, when Kieran was close to unconsciousness, Lieutenant Commander Worf stopped by Deanna’s quarters.  He was aghast at Kieran’s condition.

 

“You let her drink how much?” he asked darkly, taking Deanna’s arm sternly.  His incisors gleamed in the diminished lighting, and he seemed to be angry and amused all at the same time.

 

“Almost two bottles,” Deanna sheepishly admitted.  “I thought it might ease her mind a bit after a romantic disaster.  It won’t kill her, will it?”

 

“Counselor,” Worf chastised her, “is this how you treat all your patients who have been scorned by their lovers?”

 

Deanna grinned ruefully.  “Not ordinarily, but it’s a tried and true method, according to Will Riker,” she explained.

 

Worf threw back his head and let out a booming laugh.  “I’ll hail Dr. Crusher.  She needs to check on the Ensign’s vital signs, and give her a counteracting agent.  Two bottles could almost kill a human female,” he shook his head.  “You should have asked me, Deanna,” he leaned his forehead against hers.  “Is this more of Ensign Lefler’s handiwork?” he asked knowingly.

 

“What else?” Deanna replied.

 

He kissed her forehead indulgently, an act of absolution, and hailed the doctor.

 

Beverly Crusher arrived moments later, and almost bit Deanna’s head off for her poor judgment.  “It’s a damned good thing you called me.  Her pupils are barely reactive,” she complained loudly from the corner, where Kieran was lying in a heap on a low, formless chair.  She slapped together a hypospray.  “Let me guess,” Beverly groused.  “Robin Lefler broke up with her,” she ground her teeth together angrily.  “I’m so glad Wes never had the opportunity to get serious about her,” she added protectively.

 

Deanna nodded.  “At least it’s not as bad as it was with Ensign McMartin,” she pointed out.

 

Worf cocked his head.  “He transferred to the Potemkin, did he not?”

 

“Yes, but after he got there, he killed himself,” Deanna stated sadly.

 

Beverly rolled her eyes.  “He did not, Deanna.  You exaggerate.”

 

Deanna planted her hands on her hips.  “He picked a fight with three Klingons at Deep Space Three, without another Starfleet officer in sight,” Deanna argued.

 

Worf nodded grimly.  “That would be suicide,” he agreed with Deanna, his canines gleaming.

 

“And Lieutenant Jorgenson left Starfleet altogether,” Deanna continued.  “He’s terraforming in the Rigel system.”

 

“That is also suicide,” Worf stated with amusement that manifested as a faint curl at the corners of his mustache.  “What ever happened to Ensign Peters?”

 

“He left Starfleet,” Beverly stated.  “But at least he’s alive.”  She double checked Kieran’s vital signs, shaking her head. 

 

The chime to Deanna’s quarters sounded, and she went to check the door.  Robin Lefler was waiting in the hall.

 

“Is Kieran here?” she asked worriedly.

 

“Yes, but you’d know that if you queried the computer,” Deanna crossed her arms.

 

“Look, I know you don’t like me much, Counselor, and I suppose you’ve got your reasons,” she began.

 

“Not the least of which is how many new patients you’ve created for me,” Deanna reminded her harshly.  “Kieran loves you, Robin.  Couldn’t you have at least broken it off with her before you took up with someone else?”

 

“Is she going to be all right?” Robin asked, ignoring the lecture.

 

“Too soon to tell, and it’s really none of your business.  Did you want something?” Deanna asked pointedly.

 

“I wanted to tell her good-bye.  I’m transferring to the Newton,” she replied. 

 

“Let me guess,” Deanna retorted with a smirk, “you’re engaged to Captain Kirk.”

 

“Married, actually,” Robin smirked back.  “By Captain Picard, about an hour ago.  Mike is back on the Newton, waiting for me.”

 

“Kieran is in no condition to speak with you.  Lieutenant Worf and Dr. Crusher are tending to her.  Is there a message you’d like me to give her?”

 

“Tell her—tell her I’m sorry,” Robin decided.

 

“I’ll do that.  I’ll probably hate myself for asking, Ensign, but would you mind terribly telling me how you expect this marriage to last?  I mean, you’ve been engaged to three crewmen on Enterprise, and just told Kieran two weeks ago that you’d marry her, too.”

 

Robin looked her up and down appraisingly.  “Mike is young and handsome, and he’s already a Captain.  To do any better, I’d have to find an Admiral under the age of thirty.  There aren’t any.”

 

“Are you sure?” Deanna asked, disgusted.

 

“Of course.  I checked the database.  We all have our priorities, Counselor.  I’ll be chief engineer of the Newton in a matter of a couple of years, and Mike will be an Admiral before he’s forty.  I tried to convince Kieran to pursue a command track instead of Counselor training, but she wouldn’t even consider it.  I’m not going to be married to some starship shrink.”

 

Deanna forced herself not to backhand Robin Lefler into the nearest airlock.  “Well, then, how lucky that you found the youngest Captain in the fleet.  He’d better pray none of his peers makes Admiral ahead of him,” she oozed sarcasm.  “I’ll be sure and give Kieran the joyous news that you’ve left Enterprise for good,” she tossed over her shoulder as she stepped back into her quarters.

 

Kieran Thompson was relieved of duty for the next week.  By then, the anti-depressants had kicked in, and she was able to function again, albeit marginally.  She resumed her duties half-heartedly, not really understanding what had happened or comprehending the magnitude of Robin Lefler’s machiavellianism.  She only knew she would be very, very careful for the rest of her days where her heart was concerned.  She never dated anyone else on Enterprise.

 

______________

 

B'Elanna Thompson-Torres wiped the sweat from her ridged forehead with the back of her workout unitard sleeve.  The holodeck program presented another adversary for her and she swung her bat’leth viciously, beheading her opponent.  The glassy eyes of Tom Paris gazed lifelessly up at her, and she smiled with satisfaction.  She had thrown his hologram into the mix of her calisthenics program just for fun.

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres entered the holodeck, which she had reserved for a training simulation, just in time to see Tom’s head go whizzing across the floor.  Kieran was shocked to the core of her being.  “Good God, B'Elanna, that’s sick,” she accused, shaking her head in bewilderment.

 

B'Elanna whirled around to face her wife, whom she hadn’t seen in five days, the bat’leth wetly gleaming with holographic blood.  “I’m pissed at him, so I added him to the program,” she explained, panting from exertion.  “You’re always saying it’s healthy to get my frustrations out, after all,” she defended herself.  “Computer, end program,” she called out.

 

“Do you kill me when you’re pissed at me, too?” Kieran asked indignantly, trying to blink away the image of Tom’s head scuttling across the deck.

 

B'Elanna blanched.  “Of course not.  I love you,” she retorted.

 

Kieran ignored that admission.  “Anyway,” she continued, “you shouldn’t be pissed at Tom.  He was just being himself.  He has no regard for the sanctity of marriage.  But he was taking his cue from you.  You’re the one you should be angry with,” she said pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

B'Elanna dropped the bat’leth.  “I am angry at myself.  And I told you how sorry I am.  What more do you want from me, Benal?  How many more ways can I apologize?  I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I did, and I can’t take it back.  I love you, and I want this marriage to work, and I want you to come home.  I want you to forgive me and trust me again.  If there’s something I can do to reassure you, tell me.  If there’s anything I can do to make you want me again, tell me,” she urged her wife.

 

Kieran’s bottom lip trembled, but she gathered her resolve.  “I have to run a command simulation.  If you’ll excuse me,” she nodded toward the exit.

 

B'Elanna was riveted to the spot.  “You’re hanging onto this, Kieran.  It’s like you want to stay angry at me.  Are you using this whole thing as an excuse to leave me?  Is there somebody else?”

 

The inquiry was like a match to oxygen.  “I have never even thought about being with anyone else, B'Elanna,” she replied angrily.  “I gave myself to you, as any woman does to a Klingon warrior, completely and without reservation.  I took the Oath,” she emphasized.  “Maybe it meant less to you than it did to me,” she added hotly.

 

B'Elanna’s fight went out of her.  She moved to her partner and tried to hold her, but Kieran pushed her away. 

 

“Don’t,” she said with disgust, trying to turn away.

 

“Kieran,” B'Elanna grabbed her wrist roughly and whipped her back around, “I am not Robin Lefler,” she hissed in frustration.  “I am not going to leave you for some man.”

 

Kieran jerked her arm free, rubbing her aching wrist.  “Actually, you’re acting more like P’Arth, right now,” she accused.  “Are you going to slap me around now?  Hit me until I see things your way?”

 

B'Elanna glowered at her wife.  “That’s not fair.  I’m not like that.  I would never intentionally hurt you,” she defended herself.

 

Kieran held up her arm, yanking her sleeve back to reveal the red marks where B'Elanna’s fingers had been.  “You wouldn’t, huh?” she accused.

 

B'Elanna fought back tears of defeat.  “Okay, I’m just making things worse by trying to talk to you.  I’ll just stop trying until you tell me you’re ready to talk, because nothing I say seems to make a difference.”

 

Kieran watched her as she turned to go, shoulders slumping, head bowed.  “B'Elanna—wait,” she couldn’t stand the sight of her wife looking so shattered.

 

B'Elanna turned back around, afraid to hope, but waiting expectantly.

 

Kieran approached her and took her hands.  “I just need some time to think things through,” she explained plaintively.

 

“What is there to think through, BangwIj?  I’m telling you, there’s nothing going on between me and Tom.  In fact, I’m not even speaking to him anymore.  Seven told me what he was doing, and I was stupid enough to let my guard down around him.  I’ll never make that mistake again.  Please believe me,” she begged, tears filling her eyes.

 

Kieran considered momentarily.  “Computer,” she ordered, “run Thompson delta four.”

 

A park bench materialized in a shady glen with tall, swaying sycamore trees, low mulberry bushes, and a jogging trail with an occasional holographic runner whizzing by.  The breeze carried the scent of the lake that glistened off in the distance, and the air was cool and moist to refresh the senses.  “Sit with me?” Kieran requested, leading B'Elanna to the bench.

 

B'Elanna obediently followed, and they settled onto the wood and cast iron structure.  Kieran could smell the scent of B'Elanna’s exertion, her unitard soaked with sweat.  It was familiar, comforting.  It was the same odor that filled their room when they made love, the faint paradox of sweetness and pungency that lingered in their sheets and pillowcases, a scent that meant home to Kieran.  The taller woman had to school herself to concentrate on the problem at hand.  It would be so easy to fall into B'Elanna’s arms, so right.  And yet it would be totally wrong, and would accomplish nothing.

 

“Look,” she finally said, withdrawing her hand from her wife’s.  “It’s not just Tom Paris that I’m worried about, B'Elanna.  And it’s not that I think you want to be unfaithful to me, either,” she began.

 

“Then what?” B'Elanna asked with a pained expression. 

 

“I’m afraid that on some level, maybe one you’re not even conscious of, you might need to be unfaithful to me, because I’m a woman, and you might need a man in your life,” Kieran admitted, though saying so aloud cost her.

 

B'Elanna started to protest, but stopped herself from being reactionary.  “You think somehow you’re less than what I need?”

 

“Not less.  Just not everything you need.  You see,” Kieran took her hands again, trying earnestly to make her understand, “everything I’ve read leads me to believe you’re bisexual, with more heterosexual tendencies than anything.  Think about it.  I’m the first woman you’ve ever been with,” she pointed out.

 

“Yeah, but I’ve been attracted to other women.  You’re not the only one,” B'Elanna argued, thinking of how attracted she had felt to Seven of Nine when they were stranded together after a shuttle accident.  “I’ve just never slept with any other women.  If you and I split up, though, I’d most likely choose a woman as my next partner.”

 

That information astounded Kieran.  “You would?”

 

B'Elanna smiled faintly.  “Benal,” she stressed, “I’ve been happier with you than I’ve ever been with anyone else.  I look back at my former relationships, and they seem superficial and predictable and empty.  Why would I go back to that when I can have a deeper, richer connection with a female partner?”

 

Kieran was feeling a bit better with that reassurance.  Still she felt the facts needed to be explored.  “But if the research is correct, you might need both genders of lover in your life,” she posited.  “And as much as I love you, that’s something I just couldn’t accept.”

 

“I couldn’t accept that either,” B'Elanna contended.  “It would be way too complicated, and I know for certain that I couldn’t tolerate it if you wanted to sleep with other people.  I’m a jealous Klingon,” she reminded her partner.

 

Kieran flinched.  “I wouldn’t.  I have everything I need with you.  Men have never had the slightest appeal to me.  But for you, I’m the deviation from the usual,” she tried not to sound accusatory.  “B'Elanna, I don’t want to be married to you if it means you’re being deprived of something that is essential to your happiness.  And I’m just not convinced that you’re going to be willing to give up your attraction to men for the rest of our lives.”

 

B'Elanna felt bile rising in her throat.  “If you had these doubts, why in hell did you agree to marry me?” she demanded.

 

Kieran bowed her head apologetically.  “You’re right, I should have thought about this well before we married, and certainly before you got pregnant with our child.  Honestly, Lanna, I never thought about it—it just never even occurred to me to be worried.  I think, in my arrogance, I just assumed you were a lesbian who was oblivious to your true sexual orientation until wonderful me came along and showed you the truth about yourself.  I know that’s egotistical, but I think that’s what I believed, until recently.”

 

B'Elanna slouched on the bench, not liking the direction of this conversation one bit.  “What changed your mind?”

 

Kieran drew her feet up onto the bench, wrapping her arms around her muscular legs, resting her chin on her knees.  “I sort of started questioning our relationship after a conversation I had with Kathryn,” she recounted.  “She wanted to know why we had a dermal regenerator in our quarters.”

 

B'Elanna was horrified.  “And you told her?” she sputtered.

 

“I didn’t go into any graphic detail,” Kieran defended herself. “But I educated her a bit about Klingon-human sexual interaction, and of course, she was worried for my safety, because like most humans, she assumed Klingons tear their sex partners limb from limb.  She started me thinking that maybe I’m too tame to satisfy your needs.  I don’t know.  Maybe you wish I were rougher, or maybe you wish I were more durable in terms of what I can take from you.”

 

“Have I ever complained?” B'Elanna was incensed.  “Don’t you think I’d tell you if there was something missing?”

 

“Not if you thought I’d be mortified by it, Lanna,” Kieran said gently.  “You know you wouldn’t say anything you thought might frighten me, not after P’Arth.  And it was pretty clear the last time I tried to get you to make love with me that you didn’t think I was durable enough for what you had in mind.  And the last time we almost had time to make love, you hurt me.”

 

B'Elanna’s face darkened with emotion, her hurt visible.  “Okay, I have held back at times, but there have also been times when I’ve been out of my mind with bloodlust—” she hesitated as the memory tore through her, and it made her shudder with the recollection.  She cleared her throat and continued. “And you took everything I gave you, then.  I was always so proud of you for that, because I know humans are so much more fragile than Klingons.  I can’t say there was ever a time when I wanted things to be rougher, Benal.  I suppose the more accurate thing to say is that I want you to be more--assertive, sometimes, but not necessarily rougher.”

 

Kieran swallowed hard, hoping B'Elanna was being completely honest.  “Well, that was what started my questioning things,” she resumed her train of thought.  “And then when I saw you with Tom, not only did it bring up a lot of old fears and insecurities, it made me wonder if being with a woman in a monogamous relationship isn’t just another form of depriving you of what is in your nature to desire,” she concluded.  “Since I’ve never been with a guy, I’m not even sure what is different about it, except for the obvious anatomical things,” she added.  “But it must be very different.  After all, Rachel decided she couldn’t stay with Noah, because somehow, she was missing things she would have if she’s with a woman,” she reasoned.

 

“It is different,” B'Elanna allowed.  “In dozens of ways, and not just sexual ways, though sex is the most glaring difference,” she admitted. 

 

“You see?” Kieran felt she had made her point.

 

“I said it’s different, not better,” B'Elanna quickly amended.

 

“Okay.  Tell me how,” Kieran requested.

 

B'Elanna drew her own legs up to rest her arms on them, composing an answer.  “Well, I’m not sure I can really put it into words you’ll understand completely, since you’ve never slept with a man.  If you had, you’d know exactly what I mean,” she laughed lightly, though her heart was anything but.  “I guess the best way to describe it is to say that sex with men is about sex and about gratification, frequently theirs.  Don’t get me wrong—men can be loving and tender and sometimes sex can be about affirming the loving relationship, but there are times with them when it’s just about getting off, and nothing else.  There’s something very primal about that.  It’s like you’re doing it because you have a physical need, not an emotional one.  That’s why there are so many harsh words for it, like ‘bang’ or ‘fuck’, I guess.  When you fuck a guy, you come away feeling like you just had an exercise workout that ended with an orgasm,” she explained. “And although it sounds bad to describe it that way, it’s just something you accept with them.  And you learn to get into the spirit of it, too.  Of course, being part Klingon, that was already part of my sexual make-up.  Klingon women can make sex all about love and passion and gentleness, but they can also make it about hard, fast, greedy, physical lust.  I think it’s why human men are so intrigued by Klingon women.”

 

Kieran nodded emphatically.  “I knew that about Klingon women, because P’Arth was that way.  Sometimes she’d just come in and start tearing my clothes off, without even saying hello or kissing me.”  Kieran frowned at the distasteful memory.  “One of my friends told me that P’Arth was no better than a rapist.”

 

B'Elanna lay a sympathetic hand on Kieran’s back.  “I can see how it might have felt that way.  Between two Klingons, it’s just understood that sex doesn’t always require foreplay, and it can initiate as a very aggressive, physical encounter.  It’s the same way with human men—though not as violent.  And with them, it’s also understood that it’s sort of a game—it’s playing out a fantasy of sorts for them.  The fantasy is that they can get laid without having to take a lot of time to orchestrate a seduction, I suppose.  The other part of the fantasy is that the guy gets to believe that he’s so great, so desirable, that she just wants him right this second.  Every guy I’ve ever been with knew that they couldn’t keep a woman interested, if that’s all they ever did, but they expected that once in awhile, their lover would play along and let them behave that way.  For human men with Klingon lovers, they don’t even have to try to figure out if on a particular day they can get away with it—Klingon women are always willing to accommodate that approach.”

 

“No wonder Tom wants you back so badly,” Kieran sounded disgusted.  “He can get what he wants without giving back anything.”

 

B'Elanna sighed.  “That’s not fair, KT.  Tom had to put up with my moods, and my anger at his shortcomings, and I bossed him around all the time.  He paid a pretty big price for a little sexual liberty.”

 

Kieran detested the thought of anyone treating B'Elanna that way.  “It sounds like no matter how evolved men get, they still have to objectify women to be happy.  How could you let him do that to you?”

 

B'Elanna shrugged.  “You make it sound like it’s something I endured, when in fact, it was something I enjoyed.  I think a lot of human women are in that shuttle—they put up with it, and they don’t enjoy it.  But I always figured it’s an even exchange.  He’s treating me like a sex object, but I’m treating him like one, too,” she argued mildly.  “I didn’t mind and neither did he.”  B'Elanna thought about it a moment longer.  “And you’re right, you and I don’t connect in that way.  It’s not in your nature to treat sex like a physical activity, as opposed to an emotional, spiritual one.”

 

“So you do miss that aspect of being with a man?”

 

“I suppose, sometimes I do.  But ultimately, that’s why I wanted to be with you and not some man.  You and I connect on a deeper, more intimate level.  Every time you look at me, or touch me, or kiss me, I feel your love for me.  When we make love, that’s exactly what it is.  It’s substantial, meaningful.  I wanted to be with someone I was truly in love with.  Think about it, honey.  We didn’t sleep together until you had told me you loved me.  I knew with you it was never going to be about sex—it was always going to be about making love.  And that’s why I refused you, the other day--what I was feeling was not loving, and it was dangerous for you to approach me when I was like that.”

 

Kieran wanted to let go of her fears more than anything, but she was still convinced that one day, B'Elanna would justify those fears and announce she was leaving Kieran for a man.  “Except I know you wanted me to defy your refusal, Lanna.  You wanted me to take you anyway, despite your protests.  And I couldn’t.  I just don’t understand how you can be happy with me if you still need the things you got from your relationship with Tom, because in the same situation, he would’ve ignored your refusal and taken you to bed anyway.”

 

B'Elanna reached deeper into her reserve to try to keep from getting angry at her wife’s doubts.  “There’s a big difference between appreciating something, and needing it, Kieran.  How is it any different with you?  You can look at—say, Rachel McVicker—and appreciate that she’s gorgeous, but you don’t need to go jump her bones,” B'Elanna pointed out.  “I can appreciate what a man brings to a relationship, but that doesn’t mean I have to go looking for that,” she waved her hands in exasperation.  “I am not going to take some male lover behind your back,” she stressed urgently.  “It would be dishonorable, and a violation of our commitment.”

 

Kieran scowled.  “Rachel McVicker may be gorgeous, but I get to go home to the most beautiful woman in the four quadrants, so there’s no temptation.  But when you look at Tom, you can’t go home to any reasonable facsimile of him.  That’s how it’s different.  And that’s why I’m confused.”  She sighed miserably.  “And that’s why I can’t come home yet.  I’m trying to work through this, Lanna, I swear.  And it’s not that I want a way out, because believe me, if I could make myself believe you’ll never leave me, I’d be home in a nanosecond.”

 

B'Elanna slammed her hand on the bench, jumping up in fury.  “You’re punishing me because I used to have a boyfriend, and because some other woman broke your heart, and it’s not fair.  There are no fucking guarantees, Kieran, and you’re just going to have to decide if you love me enough to take that risk.  I can tell you it’s safe until I’m blue in the face, but it’s just worthless words until you decide whether you’re going to own up to your own fears and honor your commitment to me.”  Seeing her wife was unmoved, she tried again.  “I have fears too, you know.  I’m afraid right now that this whole issue is going to break us up for good.  God, I don’t want to lose you,” she suppressed a sob, “but I can’t stand this.  If you want this marriage, you’d better start fighting for it, because I can’t live in limbo.  I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, and I’m walking through my life like a ghost without you, BangwIj.  Everything just seems so transparent and surface and worthless.  Don’t you care about how this is killing me?”

 

Kieran was on the verge of relenting until B’Elanna turned the issue into how it was affecting her. “Of course I care,” Kieran snapped angrily.  “And if you can’t take the indecision on my part, then don’t,” she retorted, standing to leave.  “I’m asking for a little patience, and a little time.  If that’s too much to ask, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

 

B'Elanna made the one grievously erroneous maneuver she could have made, one that she should have known would not work.  She gave Kieran an ultimatum. 

 

“If you aren’t honorable enough to at least come home with me right now and keep working on this, if you have to hide from me because you’re too afraid of our future, then forget it,” she spat, expecting that Kieran would crumble in her resolve.

 

Kieran stood there, unable to believe what she had just heard.  The words tore through her chest more painfully than any Maltanian weapon.  “Just like that?  I come home with you now or it’s over?” she asked with cold fury.

 

“Damn right,” B'Elanna crossed her arms defiantly, thinking she was winning.

 

“You’d throw away our life together, rather than give me the time and space I need to work this out?” Kieran was close to apoplectic with rage.

 

“That’s what I said,” B'Elanna insisted.

 

Kieran’s anger turned to cold resolve.  She calmly removed her wedding ring , snatched B'Elanna’s hand, and deposited it in her palm, wrapping the Klingon’s bronze colored fingers around the warm metal.  Kieran gazed into her eyes for the last time.  “If that’s how you want it, B'Elanna.  I’ll have my legal representative contact you about my visitation rights with Katie.”

______________

 

Noah Lessing had never seen anything like the emotional whirlwind that came through his door.  He tried to ask logical questions, but Kieran was beside herself.  She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and stormed into his bedroom, crying so hard she couldn’t get a full breath of air.  She threw herself onto his bed, face buried in his pillow, sobbing so sharply the whole bed shook.

 

Noah crept to the entrance, peering in reluctantly, not certain what to do.  He shrugged as if to say, “what the hell”, and sat down beside her, rubbing her shoulders.  “What happened, KT?”

 

Kieran couldn’t talk.  She displayed the back of her hand, to indicate her missing wedding ring.

 

Noah stared for a long while, then realized there was a white patch of flesh where her ring used to be, in contrast to the tanned skin of her hand.  “Oh shit,” he muttered.  “Oh man, KT, I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.  He eased himself over her prostrate form, lying beside her.  He slipped his arm over her shoulders, which were still shaking with grief and shock and disbelief.

 

She rolled up on one side, burying her face in his neck, crying without sound.  He held her body against his own, trying to absorb her pain, and failing entirely.  He stroked the back of her long, braided hair, more to comfort himself than Kieran, at a total loss for words.  What do you say to someone whose heart is breaking?  He tried to remember what Kieran had said to him when Rachel left, but everything afterward was a blur. 

 

Kieran was dimly aware of his arms around her.  She clutched at his t-shirt, her fist clenched so tightly around the fabric that it was stretched irreparably out of shape.  She soaked the poor, distended neckline with mute tears, unable to begin to articulate how deeply she hurt, or even what had happened with B'Elanna.  Noah held on tightly, kissing her forehead and murmuring assurances that it would be all right.

 

Kieran was due on Beta shift, but she didn’t report for duty.  When her comm badge chirped, she didn’t respond. 

 

“Janeway to Counselor Thompson-Torres,” the Captain hailed.  “Kieran, please respond.”

 

Kathryn turned to Seven of Nine, who was preparing dinner in their kitchen.  “What the hell is going on?” she asked her spouse in a worried tone.  “Computer, where is the Ship’s Counselor?”

 

The computer replied “Counselor Thompson-Torres is in Noah Lessing’s quarters.”

 

“Janeway to Ensign Lessing,” she tried again.

 

Noah could have replied over the shipwide comm system, but instead jumped up to get his comm badge off the coffee table in the outer room.  “Lessing here, Captain.  Kieran is with me,” he waylaid her next question.  “She can’t make it to Beta shift.”

 

“Is she ill?” Janeway’s tone was much less demanding.

 

“Uh—yes—kind of,” he dissembled.  “Captain, I think Kieran would want to tell you herself what’s happened.  She’s crying too hard to really say anything to me, but she’s not wearing her wedding ring anymore, and I think that says it all,” he reported.

 

Kathryn gazed at the ceiling of her quarters, trying to subdue her shock.  “Understood.  Do you think the Doctor needs to see her?”

 

“I don’t know,” he was in a quandary.  “She’s been like this for over an hour.  Maybe he should,” he hedged.  “What do you think?”

 

“I think I’ll be there in a few seconds,” Kathryn decided.  “I’ll get someone to cover her shift.  Do you know how B'Elanna is doing?”

 

“No, Ma’am,” he replied.  “But somebody better check.”

 

“I’ll take care of it,” Janeway affirmed.

 

______________

 

Noah Lessing waited in his living room, wondering what the Captain might be saying to her closest friend to console her over the loss of her marriage.  Noah knew exactly how Kieran felt, and he hurt for her.  It hadn’t been all that long ago that Rachel had moved out of his quarters and effectively, his life, and he still missed her every day.  But how anyone could leave Kieran was truly beyond his comprehension.  B’Elanna was so lucky to have her, he felt, and if he had had the opportunity to be with Kieran, he would have given her anything she asked for.

 

The chime to his quarters beckoned, and he went to the door.  The Doctor came in looking concerned.  He dropped his voice to a near whisper.

 

“Captain Janeway asked me to come give Kieran a sedative.  Is she in your bedroom?” the Doctor inclined his head in the direction of the sealed doorway.

 

“Yes,” Noah replied helplessly.  “Is she going to be okay?”

 

The Doctor smirked.  “Time heals all wounds, they say,” was his enigmatic response.  Then with barely concealed concern he asked “Is she really bad?”

 

Noah nodded.  “Devastated.  It will break your heart,” he replied sympathetically.

 

The Doctor tugged on his tunic, a gesture he had adopted from the crew as a measure of his determination.  “I’m going in,” he announced, shouldering his medical bag.

 

Noah sat back down on the couch, but was joined momentarily by Captain Janeway.

 

“Noah,” she began, folding her hands primly, “I have a personal favor to ask of you,” she began.  “I know I’m the last person you owe one to,” she added, “but I also know we both care deeply for Kieran.  Promise me you will watch out for her.  Stay with her.”

 

Noah was shocked.  “She’s that far gone?” he asked softly.  “Do you think she might want to—hurt herself?” he asked hesitantly.

 

Janeway shrugged.  “I honestly don’t know, since I’m not a counselor,  but I’m frightened by the state she’s in, I’ll say that.  I’d feel better if Dee did an evaluation of her before I leave her to her own devices.  Until Kieran is capable of submitting to that sort of exam, I need you to stick to her like glue.  And make sure she eats.  She’s going to stop completely, I know that about her.  You’ll have to ride her about it,” she advised him.   “I’m sure she’ll be fine, but for now, I’d rather know someone is with her.”

 

He smiled faintly.  “I’m a pretty good cook, and I know her favorites.  I’ll get her to eat, I promise,” he assured her.  “Are you sure the lab can spare me?”

 

“You worry about Kieran, and let Chakotay and I make sure your shift gets covered,” she patted his hand.  “I want a report from you three times a day, more often if things get dicey.  If there’s anything you need—extra replicator rations to get her to eat, holodeck time—anything at all, hail me.”

 

“I will, Captain.  But you’re her best friend—shouldn’t you—?”

 

Janeway shook her head.  “I’ll see her every day, but I have a ship to run.  I have to maintain some modicum of objectivity here, as well.  B'Elanna is my crewmember, just as Kieran is, and I cannot afford the luxury of taking sides,” she explained, brushing her slacks down to smooth out the wrinkles.

 

Noah nodded, understanding her predicament.  “I never thought about it that way.  It must be hard, running your personal life and being in command, too.”

 

“Sometimes,” she acknowledged.  “I think seeing me will only remind Kieran of times she spent with B'Elanna, Seven and I, and I don’t want to make it worse for her.  I’m counting on you, Ensign.  Prove to me you’re the officer Kieran claims you are.  Don’t let me—or her—down.”

 

Noah straightened his shoulders.  “Yes, Ma’am.  I understand.”

 

“Thank you,” Kathryn said sincerely.  “The Doctor is giving her some medication to lower her blood pressure and calm her down.   That damned artificial heart doesn’t adapt to stress as easily as an organic one, and it’s straining her system.  He’s going to put a monitor on her—it’s a small disc that will be attached to her left shoulder.  If it starts beeping, hail the Doctor immediately, and then me.”

 

Noah nodded grimly, feeling like a huge responsibility had been visited upon him.  “Is anyone with B'Elanna?”

 

“Seven of Nine is with her.  As I understand it from Seven’s initial report, B'Elanna is expressing her grief on the holodeck.  She’s slaughtered half the Delta Quadrant.”

 

Noah grinned.  “That sounds appropriate for her,” he observed.  He considered for a long while, then seeing Janeway was getting ready to leave, he asked “Captain?”

 

Kathryn settled back onto the couch again.  “Yes?”

 

“How are we going to get them back together?” Noah asked softly.

 

Janeway smiled sadly.  “I’m not sure we are, Noah.  Believe me, I’ll think about it, and so will Seven.  If you have any thoughts about it, let me know.  I think, however, it’s really up to Kieran and B'Elanna now.”

 

“I know sometimes there are issues that you just can’t work through, but I don’t think that’s the case here,” he commented, thinking of his own irresolvable issues with Rachel McVicker.

 

Janeway rested her hand on his arm.  “I’m sorry, Ensign,” she squeezed his forearm.  “I know you’ve had a tough time lately.  If it’s any consolation, I think somewhere on my ship, there’s a lucky young woman who is eventually going to count her blessings to have a partner like you.”

 

He realized the statement for what it was: an attempt to convey sympathy and approval at the same time.  “Thank you, Captain,” he dipped his head.

 

The Doctor exited the back room, looking subdued.  “She’ll be asleep shortly.  Mr. Lessing,” he turned to Noah, “I’ve left two hyposprays on your night stand loaded with mild sedatives.  She can have the next one in four hours. If she needs or wants something stronger, hail me.”

 

“Understood,” Noah replied.  “Is there anything else?”

 

“The medication will make her behavior a little odd, almost like an intoxicant.  If she says anything hurtful or strange, it’s just the medication talking.  Don’t take it personally,” he added.  “And don’t hesitate to contact me if you think anything is amiss.  I’ve put a heart monitor on her.  If the alarm sounds, hail me at once.  Or if you’d like, I can link the device to sickbay monitors.  But Captain Janeway says you’ll be with Kieran all the time.  Do you want me to monitor it myself?”

 

“That’s okay, Doc.  I’ll be with her,” he assured him.

 

“Good.  Then I’ll excuse myself for now.  Good luck, Ensign.  Captain,” he nodded at his CO.

 

Noah saw the Captain to the door and went to check on Kieran.  She was lying in his bed, staring glassy eyed at the ceiling, crying silently.

 

“KT?  Can I get you anything?” he asked quietly.

 

Kieran’s eyes darted to bring him into her field of vision, but her affect did not change.  “Come hold me?” she asked in a monotone.

 

Noah changed into a fresh t-shirt and stretched out beside his friend, taking her into the circle of his arms. 

 

“I’m sorry, bud.  You must have a million things to do,” Kieran’s speech was almost slurred.  “You’d probably like to have your quarters back, too.  I’ll ask Chakotay to assign me to new quarters, since I don’t live with Lanna any more,” she said tiredly.

 

“Don’t you apologize,” he said gently.  “And don’t even think about moving out.  Tell me what you need from your quarters, and I’ll arrange to get your things.”

 

Kieran snuggled into his massive chest, thinking how comforting the scent of his body was.  She stuck her nose into the crook of his arm, sniffing.  Noah thought it was odd, but remembering what the Doctor told him, ignored it.  “You smell good,” Kieran commented lifelessly.  “I’m so sleepy, I can’t think of what I need.  I know I need stuff, though,” she was sounding groggy.  “I wonder if Lanna is anywhere near as upset as I am,” she rambled.  “I can’t believe it’s really over.”

 

Noah kissed her forehead.  “Honey, it doesn’t have to be over.  You both said things you’ll regret tomorrow.  I wouldn’t assume there’s no working this out,” he counseled.

 

“I can’t do it Noah.  She wants me to trust her and I can’t.  I’m afraid to,” she held to him tighter, tears sliding down her cheeks with rapidity again.

 

“I know,” he rubbed her back gently.  “Try to get some rest now, KT.  We can talk about it tomorrow.”

 

Kieran gathered his t-shirt in her fist, as if to reassure herself he would be there.  “Don’t leave me, okay, bud?”

 

Noah felt tears stinging his own eyes at the sound of her vulnerability.  “I won’t,” he murmured.  “You can trust me, KT.”

______________

 

B'Elanna Torres had obliterated every known life form in the holodeck database with a savage fury that made Seven of Nine recoil inwardly.  Seven loved B'Elanna, considered the Klingon-human hybrid to be her dearest friend, but even the former Borg drone, who had annihilated countless worlds, found B'Elanna’s rage intimidating.

 

When she had spent her blistering anger, she tossed aside the bat’leth she had been using, and noticed for the first time that she was bathed in blood of various shades, hues, and textures.  It had spattered up her arms and over her torso, puddled at her feet, and stained her unitard.  “Computer,” she panted raggedly, “end program.”  Instantly, the carnage disappeared, and B'Elanna was clean again.

 

“Do you feel better?” Seven asked skeptically.

 

B'Elanna shrugged.  “I feel like I can get through the rest of the night, maybe.  We’ll see about tomorrow.”

 

Seven slipped an arm across the smaller woman’s shoulders.  “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

 

B'Elanna sighed, but proceeded to retell the entire conversation in detail.  When she had finished, Seven was staring at her sadly.  “You gave her an ultimatum?” the towering blonde asked gently.

 

B'Elanna hesitated to reply.  “I guess so,” she admitted finally.

 

Seven closed her eyes as if to ask for Divine intercession.  “B'Elanna, if Kieran had given you an ultimatum, how would you have responded?”

 

B'Elanna hung her head.  “I guess pretty much the same way.”

 

Seven smirked.  “Undoubtedly you would’ve thrown in some choice language, to boot,” she correctly noted.  “When you are angry, you don’t just say ‘no’, you say ‘fuck no’.  All in all, Kieran responded fairly predictably.  So why did you think she would respond favorably to such a threat?” she asked as they left the holodeck.

 

“I wasn’t thinking, I guess.  It just came out.  I was so desperate to get her home,” she realized, frustrated with her own impatience.   “But I guess I know where I stand with her,” she added, perturbed all over again.

 

They arrived at B'Elanna’s quarters, and Seven didn’t know if she should leave the Klingon alone or not.  “Where is Katie?” Seven inquired.

 

B'Elanna keyed the entrance pad.  “She’s in childcare.  I need to clean up and go get her.”

 

Seven hesitated inside the doorway.  “Would you like to have Kathryn and I keep her for a few days?”

 

B'Elanna considered.  “That would be great,” she agreed, checking the messages in her comm account.  None were from Kieran.   “The Captain sent me a message to tell me I’m relieved of duty for three days.  I guess that’s the bereavement period for a divorce.  I have to meet with Dee to get myself evaluated,” she added, still reading through the message.  “And right now, I’m just not in a place where changing diapers and chasing Katie really appeals to me.  So I’d really appreciate your taking her.  But Seven, if she gets to be too much, send her home.”

 

“I can handle her, B'Elanna,” Seven assured her.  “Is there anything you need from me?  Anything I can do?”

 

“Not really.  But thanks,” B'Elanna smiled with effort.

 

***************************************************************************

 

Ensign Kieran Thompson had yet to regain the spring in her step, but she was muddling through.  Robin Lefler had been aboard the Newton for almost four months, and still, Kieran was feeling adrift.  Enterprise made an unscheduled trip to an alien world Kieran had never hoped to visit, where she knew she would be compelled to find the scientist she had been lovers with just before she came aboard the ship.  The scientist had written to Kieran while she had been engaged to Robin Lefler, professed her love for Kieran, and Kieran had replied that she had taken the woman at her word about not wanting to hear from her again, and was sorry, but she was seriously involved.  Now, with Robin married to Mike Kirk, Kieran resolved to see the scientist again.

 

The entire distance to that sphere, hanging in the black expanse of space, shrouded in clouds that barely covered the purple oceans, she thought of eyes the color of the sea on Earth, a stormy gray-green-blue hue, a haunting, searching color. 

 

Deanna Troi stopped by Kieran's quarters, standing expectantly at the door as she waited for the tall Ensign to respond to the chime.

 

Kieran answered, flustered, clothing strewn over the couch as if she had rooted through her entire closet.

 

“Packing?" Deanna smirked. “So you are going to see her? ”

 

Kieran feigned ignorance.  “See who? ”

 

“Don't be obstinate, Kieran," Deanna scolded.  “I figured it out a long time ago. ”

 

“How in the hell could you figure out who she is? ” Kieran demanded, scowling.

 

“Easy.  You said she's a scientist, and I know you got involved around graduation.  You had to address your class as Valedictorian. I checked your commencement announcement.  She was the keynote speaker.  It wasn't a big

deductive leap from there. ”

“Deanna, I told you a long time ago, she is a very private woman, and I mean to respect that.  Please, don't say anything to anyone.  She doesn't even know I'm coming. ”

 

Deanna's eyes widened.  “You can't just show up from thousands of miles away, and expect--”

“I don't expect anything.  I just want to see her again.  She's probably involved, by now.  Who knows. But I'm not missing the only chance I'll probably ever have to tell her how sorry I am that I sent her away because of Robin. She deserves to know that I love her, and that I made a huge mistake. ”

 

Deanna's expression softened considerably.  “You do love her? ”

 

Kieran nodded resolutely.  “I should have told her back on Earth, before I shipped out, before she left Earth.  But I thought it was too soon to be genuine.  So I said nothing, and I've never regretted anything so much in my life. ”

 

“Not even your relationship with P'Arth? ” she prompted.

 

“Not even close to the regret I feel over this, ” Kieran affirmed. “So I'm going to go find her, and hope she can at least forgive me enough to have a friendship. ”

 

Deanna smiled.  “What if she's still single? ”

 

“Oh, my God, ” Kieran held her hand to her chest.  “I'd give anything, Deanna.  Anything.  But she wouldn't necessarily take me back, and besides--nothing has really changed in our situation. ”

 

“Then what's the point of seeing her? ” Deanna asked gently.

 

“I have to know if she still loves me.  I have to see her again.  She haunts me, in ways I can't even describe.  I can still hear her laughter--it's the most amazing sound,” she sighed.  “I can see her eyes when I close my own to sleep.  She's so beautiful, so fragile. I would never forgive myself if I didn't at least try.”

“Our ETA is twenty minutes, Ensign,” Deanna pointed out, heading for Kieran’s door.  “You'd better get packing. Kieran?” Deanna turned back from the exit.

 

“Yeah?” Kieran looked up from her travel bag expectantly.

 

“Be careful, okay? ” she asked faintly.

 

“I will, sweetie.  I promise.”

It was the most amazing three days Kieran had ever known, save for the five days they had spent together on Earth after graduation. The scientist was not only single, she had never even thought of another woman since Kieran

had come into her life.  They spent the time as if they had forever, not allowing themselves to think of what would happen when the Enterprise warped away.

 

If Kieran hadn't been so devastated by the things Robin Lefler had done to her, she might have been willing to drop her own career path and stay, but she was so timid about making sweeping changes that when the scientist begged her not to leave again, Kieran couldn’t make herself do what she so wanted to do.  She tried to convince her lover that Enterprise was the place for them both, that the Captain would be thrilled to have someone of her stature aboard as a civilian researcher. But the scientist refused, saying she was under contractual obligations to stay on her homeworld.

Kieran forced herself to return to her commission, leaving behind what she considered to be the great love of her life.

As she packed her bag, she confronted those incredible eyes, teetering on the verge of relenting to her lover’s request.

“Do you want to stay in touch, or is this goodbye again?” Kieran demanded, her gut in knots, knowing her lover would never want to stay in touch in the face of such difficult separation.

“It feels like goodbye,” the distraught woman replied faintly, face stained, eyes tinged with red.

 

Kieran’s jaw twitched, her composure crumbling.  “God, don’t do this again.  Don’t shut me out of your life,” she begged, her own eyes spilling over.

 

“I can’t love you this way, and be apart from you,” she choked on the words.  “It hurts too much.  The last time we parted, I was sick over it.  I didn’t work effectively for months and months.   My brother was ready to wash his hands of me.  I’m begging you, don’t go,” she stood to take Kieran’s face in her hands.

 

Kieran kissed her deeply, passionately, open, vulnerable, shattered.  “I can’t stay, love.  Please believe me when I tell you I would give anything if you would come with me.”

 

Kieran held her gently, crying silently.  Impossible.  The situation was impossible.  And Kieran Thompson was not ready to throw her life on someone else’s mercy, not again.  Robin Lefler had scarred her in ways that would probably never be rectified, and the last thing she would do is change her life to be with someone, whether it meant pursuing a command track to please someone else, or giving up her own fledgling career to follow someone else’s dream.

 

***************************************************************************

Like any good counselor, Kieran’s own problems could be sublimated in order to assist those around her, and it was in helping someone else that she finally regained some of her equilibrium.

 

Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the Enterprise, was a well-connected man, and his stature in Starfleet opened many doors for his crewmembers.  Kieran Thompson was no exception.  The Captain and the Ship’s Counselor, Deanna Troi,  had finagled an interview for Kieran at Starfleet Academy.  The director of the Counselor Training program was quite interested in speaking with anyone that both Picard and Troi recommended so highly.  Kieran was looking forward to the meeting, and the crew was glad to have an excuse to go back to Earth to visit family and friends. 

Kieran had a lot of friends to catch up with, but there was one person in particular that she wanted to touch base with.  She sent a communiqué to him, hoping he would make time.  She was just about to check her comm account for a possible reply, when she was hailed.

“Picard to Ensign Thompson,” he opened the channel.  “Kieran,” he rolled the r in her name with his exquisite diction, “report to my ready room.”

“Acknowledged, Sir,” Kieran replied, thinking the Captain wanted to discuss her interview.  She practically ran to the turbolift.  Most of the information and planning had been coordinated by Deanna Troi, and Kieran had never spoken to Picard directly about the interview.  She was a little worried that he was suddenly contacting her.  She fairly burst out of the turbolift onto the bridge, almost knocking over Commander Riker.

He raised an eyebrow at her haste, fixing her with a stern look.  “Ensign?” he asked crisply.

 

“Pardon me, Commander,” she managed, “but the Captain hailed me,” she waited to be dismissed.

 

“Then don’t keep him waiting,” Riker nodded toward the ready room, a bit perplexed himself. 

 

Kieran keyed the chime nervously, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

 

“Come,” Picard called out. 

 

Kieran found him relaxing behind his desk, the ever-present cup of hot Earl Grey tea resting beside his hand.  “Reporting as ordered, Sir,” she quietly announced.

 

He waved her into a chair.  “Sit down, at ease,” he chuckled at her strident demeanor.  “I’ve just had a chat with Admiral Brand, and with director Kalantzis.  Your interview is set for Tuesday.”

 

“Thank you, Captain,” she nodded gratefully.

 

He smiled broadly.  “And,” he continued, “your presence is requested at the basketball game Wednesday night,” his eyes twinkled mischievously.  “Admiral Brand’s insistence,” he explained.  “Seems the Academy wants to retire your jersey,” he steepled his fingers together, quite pleased with the look of surprise on the Ensign’s face.  “Admiral Brand has declared Wednesday ‘Kieran Thompson Night’ at the arena.”

 

Kieran’s jaw fell.  “You’re kidding me,” she breathed, already terrified.  “The Academy has never retired a jersey for any sport,” she realized aloud.  

 

Picard nodded, extending his hand.  “Congratulations, Kieran.”

 

Kieran shook the proffered hand, puzzled.  “Sir, I thought the Academy had a strict stance on singling out individual cadets.  It’s never been done.”

 

Picard shrugged.  “Then I’d take it as the ultimate compliment, Ensign.  But I agree, there is more to it.  I see it as part of the changing climate of Starfleet.  Admiral Brand tells me that Academy enrollment is dropping for the first time in its history, and the growing hostilities in the outlying sectors are making young men and women reluctant to join Starfleet. I’m afraid the death of Joshua Albert put a rather negative light on the Academy, and Admiral Brand is attempting to dispel the concerns of many critics by emphasizing the positive.  Starfleet needs to polish up its image.  What better way than to accentuate your accomplishments, and those of other Starfleet officers and cadets?”

 

Kieran nodded, thinking about Joshua Albert, the cadet who had been killed in a banned piloting maneuver performed by the Academy’s Nova Squadron.  Wesley Crusher, once the golden boy of the Enterprise, the Academy, and of Starfleet, had been part of the flight team that had not only performed the outlawed Kolvoord Starburst, but had conspired with his fellow squadron members to cover up the fact that the inherent danger of the maneuver, and not pilot error,  had gotten Josh killed.  It had been a black mark on the reputation of the Academy, and Wesley Crusher nearly lost his career over it.

 

“Don’t let the fanfare interfere with your interview,” Picard continued, still smiling.

 

“Wow,” Kieran murmured.  “I contacted Coach Kilkenny to tell her I would be by for a visit, and she never let on.  She just asked me to sing the International Anthem at the game, which was thrill enough,” she admitted, still stunned.

 

Picard grinned.  “They put this together the moment they realized you’d be at the Academy.  Everyone is quite excited and so proud that you turned down all the professional teams to stay in Starfleet.  My understanding is that Admiral Brand has plans to use your story as a recruiting tool for the future. There may be some photo sessions and interviews, that sort of thing.  Promotional spots, and the like.  Leave it to Starfleet to exploit you to the utmost degree,” he joked.

 

“Of course, I’ll help in any way I can,” Kieran offered.

 

“I’ve already talked to Admiral Nechayev, as well.  Enterprise is going on a long mission, and we won’t be back this way for an indeterminate time, Ensign.  The next Counselor Training class doesn’t start for several weeks.  Consequently, we’re going to assign you to Voyager, in the interim.  I’ve not met her Captain, but I’ve heard good things.  It will be a brief assignment, as I’m certain you’ll be back at the Academy in no time,” he assured her.  “And since Voyager is only taking brief excursions, you’ll be available to work on the promotional campaign Admiral Brand is envisioning.”

 

Kieran nodded.  “Sounds like it’s all planned out,” she commented.  “I’m sorry to be leaving Enterprise, Sir,” she admitted ruefully.

 

“And we are sorry to lose you, Kieran,” he leaned forward, planting his feet solidly on the deck.  “I doubt our paths will cross again anytime soon.”

 

Kieran swallowed, trying not to get emotional.  “It’s been an honor serving on your ship, Captain,” she dipped her head.  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.  If there’s ever anything I can do for you, Sir,” she added sincerely.

 

“As a matter of fact,” Picard smiled knowingly, “Geordi La Forge tells me your championship ring is quite remarkable.  I’d appreciate a chance to see it,” he admitted.

 

Kieran smiled happily.  “Anytime, Sir.  I’ve got some other memorabilia you might find interesting, as well, if you’re a fan of the game.”

 

He inclined his head.  “I’ll stop by your quarters after dinner, then,” he tried not to sound too eager.

 

“Thanks for the warning.  I’ll be sure to clean up before you come,” she chuckled.

 

If he was taken aback by her levity, he didn’t let on.  “You’re welcome.  And if there’s nothing more, you’re dismissed.”

 

Kieran practically skipped out of his office, grinning ear to ear.  Will Riker was even more intrigued by her behavior than he was when she first arrived.  “Ensign,” he touched her arm as she approached, “it’s rare to see anyone come from the ready room this elated,” he mentioned in a subdued tone.  “Good news?”

 

Kieran nodded vigorously.  “Yes, Sir.”

 

Will waited expectantly.  “Are you going to enlighten me, Kieran?” he finally asked, not caring that he sounded nosey.

 

Kieran hesitated.  She didn’t want to sound like a braggart.  “Well, I don’t mean to act too big for my britches,” she apologized, “but the Academy is retiring my jersey in a ceremony next week,” she said softly, so no one else would hear.

 

Will’s eyes widened.  “Outstanding,” he put his arm around her shoulders and walked her to the turbolift.  “Congratulations.”

 

“Do you think you could come to the ceremony?” she asked, thinking he would probably decline.  They had become fairly good friends, though Riker maintained a certain distance from his junior officers.

 

He flashed a quick grin.  “I expect the entire senior staff will attend,” he laughed, “including the Captain.”

 

If Kieran had the capacity for further astonishment, it was now overloaded.  Will just laughed at her stricken face as the turbolift doors closed.

 

***************************************************************************

 

When Kieran got back to her quarters, the computer was hailing her.

 

“Incoming message from Starfleet Academy,” the female voice informed her.

 

“Put it through,” Kieran requested, sitting down at her workstation.

 

The solemn face of Wesley Crusher appeared.  The young cadet had deep, dark circles under his eyes, and his face was ashen from stress.  The once proud protégé was now serving out his disgrace with a renewed sense of humility. 

 

“I got your message, KT.  What’s up?” he asked warily.

 

Kieran grinned broadly.  “Wes!” she moved closer to the screen.  “It’s great to see you, buddy.”

 

He forced a return smile.  “So you’re going to be in the neighborhood next week,” he stated.

 

“Yeah.  I thought I’d try to monopolize a little of your time,” she advised him with an impish grin.  “I have a meeting on Tuesday—well, actually, an interview with the chair of the Counselor Training program.  But after that, I’m all yours.”

 

Assured that Kieran was genuinely looking forward to seeing him, Wesley relaxed.  He waggled his eyebrows.  “All mine?  Promises, promises,” he teased flirtatiously.

 

“You know what I meant, bad boy,” she scolded her old friend.  “Are you going to try to spend some time with your mom?” she asked cheerfully.

 

Wesley scowled.  “I suppose I can’t avoid it,” he admitted. Seeing the question on her lips he explained, “It’s just that—things have been strained ever since—the hearing,” he fumbled for words, not wanting to relive the experience again.  He was forced to relive it every day as he confronted the judgment in the eyes of his peers and professors.  Some days, it was just too much to take.

 

Kieran nodded sympathetically.  “I bet.  But it’ll smooth out eventually, Wes.  She just wants to see you get yourself back on track.  We all do.”

 

He nodded.  “Thanks.  It could’ve been worse, I know, and Mom keeps telling me that.  I should have been expelled, like Nick Locarno was.”

 

“No,” Kieran disagreed.  “Your service to the Enterprise far outweighs what happened at the Academy,” she contended.  “It was a mistake.  The kind a lot of young men and women make when their self-expectations are so high,” she tried to comfort him.

 

“Tell Josh Albert’s dad that,” he replied dully.

 

“Wes,” Kieran softened her tone, “you’ve got to stop beating yourself up sometime.  You learned your lesson, you’re paying the price.  It was an error in judgment.  We all screw up sometimes,” she assured him.

 

He stuck his chin out defiantly.  “You don’t,” he accused, his hair falling over his forehead in disarray.  He impatiently combed it back with his fingers.

 

Kieran let out  bark of laughter.  “Oh yeah?” she shot back.  “You apparently didn’t hear about Robin Lefler.”

 

“What about her?” Wesley’s ire dissipated.  He had told Kieran to get to know Robin, thinking they’d hit it off.  It sounded like anything but.

 

“Tell you what, Cadet.  Meet me at Barfleet Grille Tuesday evening, say about six.  I’ll fill you in on all the sordid details,” she offered.  “Can you make it?”

 

He smiled genuinely.  “I wouldn’t miss it.  And KT?”

 

“Yeah?” she gave him her most winning smile.

 

“Thanks for not acting all weird.  Everyone else on Enterprise just pities me so much, it’s too hard to talk to anyone.”

 

“Wes,” Kieran became serious, “you know I think the world of you.  Nothing could change that.”

 

He squared his shoulders.  “I know.”

 

“Now get back to work, Cadet,” she feigned gruffness.  “That’s an order.”

 

“Aye, Sir,” he saluted smartly.  “See you Tuesday.”

 

 

Almost as an afterthought, Kieran sent a missive to the scientist on that alien world so far away, a copy of the announcement about her jersey retirement ceremony.  She didn’t include any note, or any explanation that she would be changing ships.  She simply sent the announcement, wanting the woman to know she was alive, well, and flourishing, despite their twice failed romance.

***************************************************************************

 

Barfleet Grille was humming with activity, as it always did in the evenings when cadets and Starfleet Command personnel sought out refuge from cafeteria food.  Kieran Thompson sat at a table for two, sipping a beer and trying to sink into the restaurant’s décor.  She had already signed so many autographs just wandering the campus that day that her wrist ached.  She was hoping to acquire some anonymity in the shadowy watering hole.

 

Wesley Crusher looked equally eager to be invisible as he slunk into the foyer, glancing around furtively for Kieran’s face.  She waved at the younger man, smiling and standing up so he would see her.  She scooted out from behind the table and grabbed him as he approached.

 

“Hey, Wes,” she hugged him warmly.  “You look great,” she lied.  In fact, the cadet, who had been required to repeat his second year of Academy studies as punishment for his role in the death of Joshua Albert, looked awful.  His shoulders slumped as if in defeat, and his facial expression conveyed suspicion and discomfort.

 

He hugged her back fiercely, like a drowning man grasping a life raft.  “KT,” he said hoarsely, letting her go and seating himself, though it was clear he could have held on much longer. “How’d the interview go?” he asked with genuine interest.

 

Kieran smiled.  “I lucked out.  Director Kalantzis is a huge basketball fan.  She even asked me to autograph a program she saved from our championship season,” Kieran laughed.

 

Wesley nodded.  “I know you’ll get in.  You deserve it,” he added.  “I’m really glad you wanted to see me,” he motioned the waiter over.  “I’ll have one of those, too,” he indicated Kieran’s beer.  He winked at his companion.  “Finally of age,” he explained.

 

Kieran hoisted her glass.  “Happy Birthday, whenever it was.  How are you holding up, Wes?”

 

He winced but forced a pleasant tone.  “Okay, I guess.  It’s been—hard,” he admitted quietly.

 

“I can only imagine,” Kieran replied sympathetically.  “How have your classmates reacted to the whole thing?”

 

Wesley accepted his drink from the waiter, who deposited it on the table and hastily left.  “Let’s put it this way,” he took a tentative sip of his beer, “I haven’t had a date since the hearing,” he replied bitterly.  “Most of my so-called friends won’t even make eye contact with me,” he admitted.  He omitted the fact that he had been taunted, physically threatened, and shunned by even the faculty.  “In fact,” he slugged back a quarter of his drink, “I think it’s probably a very bad idea for you to be seen with me,” he stated with concern.  “I only agreed to meet you here because it’s so dark, you probably won’t be recognized.”

 

Kieran stiffened in her seat.  “You’re my friend,” she immediately defended him, “and I don’t let public opinion deter me,” she set her jaw defiantly.

 

He smiled indulgently.  “KT, you have such a stellar public image, I really think you should worry about protecting it,” he counseled.   “Hang around the gym, your name is uttered with the awe and reverence reserved for the likes of Zefram Cochrane and Jim Kirk,” he noted.  “I’d hate to tarnish your reputation.”

 

Kieran set her beer down with a loud thud.  “That’s not up for discussion,” she insisted, taking his hand across the table.

 

Wesley shrugged, grinning ruefully.  “It’s your funeral, Ensign,” he decided.  “So.  Tell me about Robin Lefler.”

 

***************************************************************************

 

Kieran Thompson and Wesley Crusher wandered across campus to the transporter station, laughing and reminiscing about times they’d spent together, each a bit tipsy from several beers.  The grounds of the Academy were populated by cadets playing outdoor games under the artificial lights, studying beneath trees and on benches, and mulling about the greenways and gardens.  Day or night, students were out and about, seeking an escape from the suffocation of classrooms, lecture halls, mission simulators, laboratories and libraries.

 

Kieran was repeatedly accosted by fans and old friends, each of whom did a double-take upon realizing that Kieran was with Wesley Crusher.  Instead of hurting her public image, Kieran realized, she was helping his.   And she hoped the companionship had bolstered him enough to deal with seeing his mother again.

 

As they approached the transporter, Kieran slung an arm across her smaller companion’s shoulders.  There were few people Kieran didn’t dwarf, and Wesley was no exception.  “What are you doing tomorrow night?” she asked nonchalantly.

 

“Studying I guess.  Why?” he asked hopefully.  He wouldn’t say so, but he had been excruciatingly lonely, and it felt good to be with a friend again.  “I’m having an early dinner with my Mom,” he recalled, sounding regretful.

 

“I’m singing the International Anthem at the ball game tomorrow night.  Actually,” she shyly divulged, “the Academy is retiring my jersey before the game, and then I’m singing the anthem.  I need an escort.  And as I recall from a few rowdy outings, you’ve got a pretty good singing voice,” she waggled her eyebrows.  “Come sing the backup vocal with me,” she urged him, squeezing his shoulders.

 

His eyes went wide.  “Are you kidding me?”

 

Kieran grinned.  “Nope.  We can rehearse a few times after you see your mom,” she insisted, stepping up onto the dais.  “It’ll be fun.”

 

Wesley punched commands into the control panel.  “Energizing,” he announced, still sounding like the Ensign on the Enterprise bridge.  

 

As they materialized aboard the ship, he shook his head.  “KT, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it’s your big night.  You don’t want to offend people by showing up with the pariah of the Academy,” he lectured her.

 

“It’s my night,” she repeated, “and I want to do it my way.  If people are so petty that singing with a friend makes them think less of me, well piss on them, then,” she retorted.

 

“KT, I know you’re trying to help me, but--”

 

“But nothing,” she cut him off.  “I don’t want to sing in front of all those people alone.  And I could use the support of having an escort for the ceremony.  There’s going to be a big party after the game, and I could use a shoulder to lean on.  This is going to be a very emotional thing for me, Wes,” she pleaded.  “I don’t do well in front of crowds.”

 

He eyed her skeptically, thinking she was exaggerating her need for him just to get him into a favorable public light.  But the look on her face was sincere enough, and he relented.  “Okay.  I’ll stop by your place after Mom gets done grilling me about my failed career,” he agreed.

 

***************************************************************************

 

Kieran’s ceremony had gone off smoothly, and her colleagues from the Enterprise had all been in attendance.  None was more stunned than Beverly Crusher when Wesley accompanied Kieran in singing the International Anthem.  She instantly appreciated what Kieran was trying to do, what sort of statement she was trying to make to the cadets and faculty about loyalty.  Wesley already seemed to be feeling better, and Deanna assured Beverly that her sense of him proved his spirits had been lifted by spending time with Kieran, and by her campaign to put him in a more favorable public light.

 

After a rousing game which the Academy team won handily, there was a party for Kieran at the Intergalactic Suites, and Wesley escorted her.  She mingled among fans and friends, arm wrapped companionably through Wesley’s, introducing him to her old teammates and friends, making certain that everyone knew she was with him.  They danced together several times, until finally, a few other women started to look at Wesley from across the dance floor.  Kieran pushed him in the direction of a good friend of hers, and the two hit it off immediately. 

 

Beverly Crusher snuck up behind the lanky Ensign, whispering in her ear.  “I’d rather see him dancing with you,” she informed her.

 

Kieran chuckled.  “Why is that?”

 

Beverly inclined her head toward Kieran’s, smiling.  “You’ve been a good friend to him, Kieran, and nothing would make me happier than to see that friendship blossom into something more.  The improvement in his state of mind is nothing short of miraculous,” she added, touching Kieran’s arm.  “You’re going to be back at the Academy before you know it,” she intoned mischievously, “and Wesley will be here another two years.  You’ll graduate at the same time,” she pointed out hopefully.

 

Kieran smiled ruefully, shaking her head.  “Doctor,” she began.

 

“Beverly,” she corrected the younger woman.  “Call me Beverly.”

 

“Beverly,” Kieran nodded, “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but Wesley and I are just good friends.  Nothing more,” she stated firmly.  “And as much as I admire and love him, I’m afraid men just don’t do much for me romantically.”

 

Beverly’s face fell.  “Oh,” she stated with disappointment.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize--”

 

“It’s okay,” Kieran patted her arm.  “Wesley knows.  He doesn’t harbor any illusions about us, I promise.  We already had that discussion a long time ago.”

 

The red haired physician frowned slightly, squeezing Kieran’s arm.  “I’m sorry to hear that.  I’d love to see him find a woman that could have the positive impact on him you’ve had.”

 

“He’s been through a lot,” Kieran admitted, watching him dancing with her friend.  “I know it’s hard not to lecture him, and not to pity him, but you have to go easy on those fronts, or you’re going to lose him.  He wants to make you proud, but he’s also struggling to find his own way.”

 

“I know,” Beverly agreed, eyes on the ground.  “It’s hard.  I love him so much, and I want the best for him.  But he has made some major missteps over the last year, and I’m not sure he’ll ever take his rightful place in the ranks of Starfleet now.  It worries me, how much potential he has to throw away.”

 

“It’s his to do with as he pleases.  We all have to love and help him, and hopefully, he’ll get his equilibrium back.  Here he comes, pretend you were talking about something else,” she demanded, laughing.  “She really did that?” Kieran pretended to be having a lighthearted conversation.

 

Beverly picked right up on it.  “She did, I swear,” she chuckled.  “Hi, honey,” she greeted her son.  “Having fun?”

 

Wesley nodded.  He winked at Kieran.  “She asked me to study with her,” he waggled his eyebrows.

 

Kieran rested a hand on his back.  “Stephanie’s a great girl,” she advised him.  “I knew you two would get on famously.”

 

Wesley grinned.  “Sorry that the last woman I tried to fix you up with turned out to be such a bust,” he referred to Robin Lefler.  “By the way, did you know she’s here?”

 

Kieran’s eyes went wide.  “God, tell me you’re kidding?”

 

“Nope.  I ran into her on the dance floor.  She’s going to find you soon, I imagine,” he confided.  “Do you want to leave before you have to deal with her?”

 

Kieran considered momentarily.  Wesley clearly was having fun, and wanted to hook up with Stephanie again.  “No.  I’ve got to face her sometime, I suppose.  Is she with her husband?”

 

Wesley shook his head.  “No.  And I don’t think the Newton is even in this star system,” he reported.

 

Just then Robin Lefler spotted Kieran Thompson across the ballroom, and purposefully strode toward her.

 

“Oh shit, here she comes,” Kieran murmured.  Beverly took one arm and Wesley took the other, shoring her up.

 

“KT,” Robin smiled warmly, reaching for the taller woman and taking her into a fond embrace.  “Congratulations.  You must be so proud of yourself,” she squeezed her ex-lover tightly, then kissed her cheek.

 

Kieran looked her up and down, mouth dry and bereft of words.  Wesley nudged her.  “What brings you to Earth?  Is the Newton at Mars Planetia for repairs?” Kieran asked hollowly, eyes fixed on the woman she had so wanted to spend her life with.

 

“No,” Robin laughed.  “I’m here for reassignment.  Things with Mike didn’t work out,” she replied easily.  “How have you been?”

 

Kieran smiled.  “Good.  I’m waiting to hear from the Academy on the Counselor Training program.  For the time being, I’m transferring to Voyager.”

 

Robin nodded.  “Voyager is that new Intrepid class ship, isn’t it?”

 

Kieran nodded.  “Well, listen, it’s been good seeing you again,” she lied, trying to back away.  “Wesley and I are supposed to--”

 

“KT,” she interrupted, “I’d like to speak with you in private.  If you can spare a few seconds,” she amended.

 

Kieran looked helplessly at her companions.  “Okay.  Let’s step out into the hallway,” she offered, gesturing in the direction of the exit.

 

Once they were in the hallway, Robin turned to face her former fiancée, taking her hands.  “KT, I’m so sorry for what happened.  It was a huge mistake.  I don’t know what I was thinking.”

 

Kieran blanched, jerking her hands free.  “I do.  You were thinking I wasn’t good enough for you, Robin.  You were thinking Mike Kirk could get you the position and power you wanted.  Deanna told me what you said about not wanting to be married to a starship shrink,” she informed her ex-lover with a knowing glower.

 

Robin pouted as prettily as she could.  “I deserved that, but KT, I’ve learned my lesson.  I was wrong.  Power and position don’t automatically mean happiness.  I’ve never been happier than when we were together,” she tried to sound persuasive.  “I’ve done nothing but kick myself since we broke up.  I love you, KT.  I want a second chance.”

 

Kieran was flabbergasted.  “Do you have any idea what you put me through?” she demanded angrily.  “How humiliated I was to find you fucking him?  Do you?” she practically shouted.

 

Robin eased them further from the door to avoid anyone overhearing.  “KT, I know you’re angry, but I know somewhere in all that emotion, you still love me.  You’re not the kind of person who could forget so quickly,” she urged her, drawing Kieran’s hands to her face and kissing them.  “Please, Kieran, give me another chance.  I promise, you won’t regret it.”

 

Kieran was sorely tempted, but the depth of the injury simply could not be ignored.  “Look, you made your choices.  One thing I will never, ever be able to forgive is what you did to me.  You professed to love me, to want to marry me, and you slept with someone else.  Hell, you married someone else,” she hissed.  “Forget it,” she spun on her heel and headed back into the party.

 

That was the last time she had seen Robin Lefler.  But ten minutes later, she was face to face with her scientist lover, who had come all the way to Earth to find her.  She came prepared to leave her way of life behind to follow Kieran.

 

*********************************************************************************************

 

Wesley Crusher’s face shimmered into focus on Kieran’s view screen, his color improved and his expression more relaxed.  “Hey, KT,” he greeted his friend.  “How’s life aboard Voyager?” he asked amiably.

 

Kieran smiled at the changes in the young cadet.  She seated herself at the small workstation in her cramped quarters aboard the Intrepid class ship.  “Not exactly the lap of luxury,” she replied, “but it’s just for a few weeks.  I should be back at the Academy soon.  All the signs are pointing to my getting accepted to the program.”

 

“That’s terrific,” Wesley enthused.  “And it’s good to see you feeling so confident,” he added.  “It wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with your engagement, would it?” he grinned.

 

Kieran blushed.  “We’re very happy.  I can’t believe she gave up her research funding to follow me to Enterprise.  I only wish she had made sure, before she showed up on Earth, that I was still assigned to Enterprise,” Kieran grinned ruefully.

 

“Everyone is so pleased for you both. When you guys made the announcement at your jersey party, I swear, you could’ve heard a pin drop.  Nobody could believe it.  But don’t look so worried.  Enterprise will only be gone a few months.  You’ll be in school waiting for her when she gets back from running her experiments, and then your parents will throw the wedding of the decade.  Love suits you, KT.  You seem like a changed woman.”

 

“I could say the same about you, Wes,” she pointed out.  “You seem like a changed man.”

 

Wesley grinned broadly.  “Well, I have to thank you, KT.  People are talking to me again, gradually.  It’s hard to believe that singing with you in public made such an impact on my social status, but it did.  And thanks for introducing me to Stephanie.  She’s great,” he added, blushing slightly. 

 

“Don’t thank me,” Kieran replied.  “All I did was spend some time with a friend.  If it helped you, I’m glad, but I doubt it had much to do with your social life.  I knew if Stephanie got to know you, she’d adore you at least as much as me,” she added.

 

“Can I thank you over dinner when Voyager gets back?” he asked hopefully.

 

“Absolutely.  Three weeks, Wes.  I’ll be ready for a big bowl of Luigi’s pasta,” she advised him.

 

“You’re on.  Have a great trip, KT.  And don’t let the close quarters get you down.  Pretty soon, you’ll be back at the Academy.  It’ll be great to have you here,” he said appreciatively, “you and your future wife, both.”

 

“I can’t wait,” she replied.  “You take care.  And have fun with Steph,” she waggled her eyebrows.

 

Little did either know that it would be over a decade until they would see each other again.

 

_____________________

 

 

B'Elanna Torres had been a frequent visitor to the lower decks when she first came aboard Voyager.  The crewmen and women who lived there were a little less concerned with protocol when they were off duty, alcohol flowed freely, and there was always a poker game to be found.  She had known of a still that had been set up in one crewman’s quarters at one time, though she suspected Chakotay would find out and shut it down eventually. 

 

Tristan Garrett had convinced two crewmen to let him sleep on their couch, so that they could turn his quarters into a speakeasy, of sorts.  Among the crew on the lower decks, Tristan’s was well known as a place where anything went.  B'Elanna had been there any number of times before she got involved with Tom Paris, and any number of times after she started dating him.  She had never told Kieran about the place, and had never visited after she was married.  When she made an appearance after several years, the gang mocked and hooted at her.

 

“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Tristan called out when she entered the dark, hazy room.  “Down on your luck, Lieutenant?”

 

B'Elanna’s pointed teeth glittered.  “Just slumming, Garrett.  What’s the cover?”

 

“Two ration slips,” he replied, eyeing her speculatively.  “I heard about your marriage.  It’s a shame really,” he offered, taking her ration chits.  “Feel like playing poker?”

 

“Yeah, we need a fourth,” Mariah Henley supplied, smiling at the engineer.  “It’s good to see you again,” she added.

 

Henley was a former Maquis, just like B'Elanna.  Henley had never quite learned to fit in with the Starfleet crew, and did what she had to to get by, but spent most of her free time in the lower decks, despite being an officer.

 

“You, too,” B'Elanna replied.  “Okay, what the hell, I’ll play as long as the booze comes with the game.”

 

“It still does,” Tristan offered.  “Do you know Ly Woo?” he inclined his head in the direction of an Asian crewman.

 

“Nope,” she extended her hand, which he took.  “Nice to meet you.  What’s the game?”

 

“Five card stud,” Tristan replied.  “Millie,” he called over his shoulder.  “Get our esteemed Chief Engineer a drink.”

 

 

____________________

 

B’Elanna Torres had gone to the lower decks, thinking she would only numb her pain with alcohol.  She had no intention of seeking out companionship, although she firmly believed her marriage was over with.  She played cards and drank to excess, only vaguely aware that Mariah Henley was flirting with her.  As the night wore on, however, her inhibitions dwindled.  She was a Klingon, and Klingons tended to put on a mask of bravado in the face of a break up.  They always sought to reassert their sexual prowess in the aftermath of a spoiled love affair, and B’Elanna was starting to think, through a fog of alcohol and pain, that she was entitled to take her pleasure wherever she found it.

 

B'Elanna had stunned the crowd at Tristan’s, first by soundly beating the pants off her poker opponents, then by giving back all her winnings.  It was her way of apologizing for her long absence, and it was a means of impressing Mariah Henley, who had been looking like B'Elanna’s best prospect for not spending the night alone.  When a fresh batch of crewmen arrived to try their hand against the cards, B'Elanna had excused herself to sit on one of three sofas in Tristan’s makeshift bar, planning to get drunk out of her mind.  Mariah Henley joined her, bringing a carafe of bootleg alcohol and a knowing smile.  Before long they were toasting the old Maquis days, getting friendlier, and blending into the shadows of Tristan’s.

 

Mariah Henley’s quarters were spartanly appointed.  She had no particular interest in art or furnishings, and her tastes were utilitarian.  Maquis lived without indulgence or luxury, and she continued to live as they had lived, despite knowing most of her comrades were long dead.  B’Elanna mentally compared Mariah’s home to her own, which was decorated with the lively artwork Kieran favored, and souvenirs from their trip across the Delta Quadrant.  Henley had little to show for the decade they had been lost, and B’Elanna realized how lonely the former Maquis fighter must be.

 

B'Elanna had decided it would be better to go back to Henley’s than to take her right there on the couch in Tristan’s, though Henley would’ve eagerly offered herself up.  So instead they stumbled back to Henley’s quarters, where they barely made it inside the door before clothes started flying.  It had been a very long time for B'Elanna, and patience was not her strong suit.  Mariah was an attractive woman, and her responsiveness made it evident that it had been even longer since she’d taken a lover.  The two women joined like frantic animals in the heat of the biological imperative to reproduce, crying out and coming and starting over again as soon as a climax was reached.  B'Elanna didn’t care if she was being rough, didn’t think about whether Mariah could withstand the aggression of a Klingon in a state of sexual deprivation, and didn’t notice how much damage she was doing.  Mariah kept begging for more, and so B'Elanna gave it to her.

 

When the morning lights on the computerized timer started to come up, B'Elanna awoke, bleary eyed, hung over, and appalled at the state of Mariah’s sheets, which were stained with blood.  She found Mariah barely conscious, with several open wounds where B'Elanna had bitten her.  B'Elanna leapt out of bed in a panic, knowing she needed to get Henley to sickbay, but wanting to retain her anonymity.  She had a thought to retrieve the dermal regenerator from her quarters, but the amount of blood staining the sheets made her decide that regardless of the consequences, she needed to get medical attention for Mariah.

 

She wrapped the smaller woman in a fresh sheet and hoisted her over her shoulder, straining under the weight of her limp body, but ultimately managing to get her into sickbay in a matter of minutes. 

 

“Computer, activate EMH,” she barked as she eased Mariah onto a biobed.

 

“State the nature of the medical—good Lord, B'Elanna,” he immediately knew the nature of the emergency.  He snatched a medical tricorder, scanning her.  “She hasn’t lost enough blood to explain why she’s unconscious,” he muttered, recalibrating for another scan.  “How did she get such a horrific concentration of alcohol in her system?” he demanded.  “I’ve never seen anything like this.  It’s like she drank 200 proof.  The replicators don’t make anything that strong.”

 

B'Elanna felt her heart sink.  She would be in serious trouble if word got out about Tristan’s.  “Is she going to be okay?”

 

He gave the bloodied woman an antibiotic antiviral hypospray for her wounds, and a second one to bring the blood alcohol under control.  “I believe so.  The wounds are superficial.  I won’t ask how she got them,” he said with distaste, closing the lacerations with a dermal regenerator.  “But her blood alcohol is dangerously high.  I can bring it down of course, but B'Elanna, this is the sort of thing I have to report to the Captain.”

 

B'Elanna swallowed hard.  “I don’t know anything about that,” she lied.

 

“Oh?  Shall I scan you, as well?” he obviously didn’t believe her.

 

“Go ahead,” she held out her arms defiantly.

 

He finished up with Mariah’s wounds, and washed the blood from her with an antiseptic wipe.  He had left one prominent bite mark at Mariah’s neck.  “Do you want me to treat this one?” he asked, trying to be respectful of the Klingon customs.

 

“Yes!” B'Elanna asserted loudly and quickly.

 

He started to treat the area when Mariah woke up, snatching his hand away.  “Leave that alone,” she slurred, wrestling his arm back.

 

The Doctor looked at the two women, helpless to decide what to do.  “Are you sure?” he asked Mariah, looking at B'Elanna.

 

“Mariah,” B'Elanna urged her, “you don’t want that to scar.”

 

Mariah gazed up at her, clearly hurt.  “What if I do?”

 

B'Elanna straightened her shoulders.  “I don’t want it to scar,” she amended.

 

Seeing how much difficulty she was having expressing herself, the doctor gave Mariah a second hypospray to lower her blood alcohol level.

 

Finally, Mariah sat up.  “Could I speak to B'Elanna alone, Doctor?” she asked softly.

 

“Of course,” he replied.  “I’ll be in my office,” he excused himself, muttering to himself about the sadistic sexual rituals of other cultures as he closed the door behind him.

 

Mariah turned an imploring eye to the disheveled-looking Klingon.  “Was it just a one night stand, B'Elanna?”

 

B'Elanna hated the crudeness of the inquiry, but she had to admit the truth.  “It was for me,” she said apologetically.  “Wasn’t it for you?”

 

Mariah shook her head.  “When we were in the Maquis, I always—admired—you,” she confessed.  “I thought you only liked men, so I never said anything.  If I had known you were open to the idea of a woman,” she trailed off.  “I heard you and Counselor Thompson broke up, and I was hoping, maybe, you’d want to--?”

 

B'Elanna was distraught over Kieran, shaky from the hangover, and terrified of the ramifications of what she had done.  Mariah could press charges against her, if she wanted to.  She could tell Kieran.  Oh Kahless’ balls!  Kieran could find out.  “Mariah,” she offered gently, “maybe, eventually, but right now, I’m still reeling from this thing with Kieran.  She just told me, yesterday, that she’s not coming back.  I’m afraid I was pretty far gone last night.  I mean, the shock hasn’t really worn off,” she made all the excuses she could think of.  “Please forgive me.”

 

“Okay,” Mariah said contemplatively.  “I’m going to keep this,” she pointed to the ritual mating wound, “and if you decide you’re not interested, after you’ve had some time to think about it, I’ll have it removed.  Fair enough?”

 

B'Elanna breathed a sigh of relief.  Mariah would not likely put her on report for assault.  “Very fair,” she agreed with a winning smile.

________________

 

Kieran Thompson was thrust into the cruelty of consciousness, the memory of the day before battering her in its brutality as she awakened.  Her awareness switched its focus to the fact that she was bare-chested, lying against Noah’s abdomen.  Her eyes widened and she snatched her arm back.

 

Noah hid his amusement at her reaction.  “Good morning,” he said quietly.  “How are you feeling?”

 

“Oh my God,” she rolled away from him, anxiously looking for her shirt.

 

Noah reached down for it, finding it on the floor.  “Here,” he said, trying not to chuckle at her consternation.  “KT, it’s okay.  Nothing happened.  You were just drugged and didn’t know what you were doing.”

 

Kieran was blushing from her bare breasts to her forehead.  “How did I get like this?” she tugged her shirt back on, covering herself hastily.

 

Noah smiled indulgently.  “You woke up and said it was hot, and you took it off.  KT, it’s okay.  Forget it.”

 

Kieran pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to shake off the oppressive after-effect of the medication.  “Did I do anything else—uh—presumptuous?”

 

Noah inclined his head.  “No, nothing else.”

 

Kieran’s face regained some color.  “Thank God,” she breathed a sigh.  Kieran hid her face in her hands.  “I need to get my own quarters, bud.  I’m so sorry.”

 

Noah reclaimed her hands.  “It’s no big deal, Kieran.  Honestly.  How can a guy complain about having some gorgeous, naked woman crawling all over him?” he tried to inject a little levity.

 

“I crawled all over you?” Kieran was aghast.

 

“Not totally,” he consoled her. 

 

Kieran groaned in dismay.  “Noah, I’m sorry.  I feel like such an ass.”

 

He hugged her then, squeezing her despite the lack of reciprocity in the hug.  “KT, just forget it.  It didn’t mean anything.  Unless of course,” he waggled his eyebrows, “you want to do it wide awake.”

 

She smacked his bare leg, making him yelp.  “God, you really are a pig,” she bitched good-naturedly.

 

He shrugged noncommittally.  “I’m a man.  That’s how we’re wired, I’m afraid,” he used her description from several days before.  “Are you hungry?” he asked after a long pause.

 

She thought about it.  “Not really.  I feel pretty nauseated.”

 

Noah smacked her thigh in return.  “Thanks a lot,” he complained.  “I always have that effect on women.”

 

Kieran smiled at him.  “Not because I got friendly with you, you nimrod,” she laughed at him.  “I just never eat when I’m upset.”

 

“I know.  The Captain warned me.  That’s why I’m fixing peach pancakes for breakfast,” he tried to sound persuasive.

 

Kieran’s stomach growled.  She had not eaten since lunch the day before.  “I might be able to eat one or two,” she decided.  “You’re such a good cook.”  She glanced around the room, and spied the chronometer.  “Shit!  I’m two hours late for work,” she jumped up, searching for her uniform. 

 

“Whoa, hold on,” Noah grasped her arm.  “You’re relieved until further notice.  Captain’s orders.”

 

“What?” Kieran was dumbfounded.  “I can’t bail on my patients, Noah.  It’s not like they can put their emotional crises on hold while I fall apart over B'Elanna,” she protested.

 

“Janeway seems to think they can,” he argued. 

 

“We’ll see about that,” she snarled with determination.  “She’s too protective of me,” she added.

 

“Actually, it was the Doctor’s decision, Counselor,” he came back.  “KT, you were a complete disaster area last night.  Janeway was afraid you might hurt yourself.”

 

“Kathryn came here?” she was surprised.

 

“Well, yeah, KT.  She’s only your best friend; of course she came here.  Don’t you remember?” he was a little surprised at Kieran’s thinking Kathryn would do less, and worried that she had no recollection of Janeway’s visit.

 

“You know, I really don’t.  I remember the argument with Lanna, and I remember coming here to fall apart.  After that, I don’t recall a thing,” she screwed up her face, trying to access the missing events.

 

“Will you let me make breakfast, or are you going to run off to fight with Janeway over taking time off?” he asked meekly.  “Why not at least take today?  We can shoot some hoops, play some pool at Sandrine’s, whatever you want.”

 

“What about you, bud?  Don’t you have to work?” Kieran took his hands again, no longer put off by her unconscious actions of the night before.

 

“Janeway gave me the same leave of absence to keep an eye on you,” he explained.  “I need the break, KT, so please, at least take a couple of days,” he pleaded, knowing that if he turned the situation into something he needed, Kieran would comply.

 

Kieran eyed him warily.  “You’re good, Mr. Lessing.  Very good.”

 

“Is that a yes?  I mean shit, KT, how long has it been since I whooped your ass at hoops?” he needled her affectionately.

 

“It’s been since never, NoGame,” she shot back with his pejorative nickname.  “You’re on, big guy.  Now get in the kitchen and make me some vittles, Missy,” she teased, smacking his ass as he got up.

 

“Hey now,” he spun in surprise.  “Don’t bruise the merchandise, Counselor.  You might want to crawl all over it again,” he laughed as she launched a pillow at his retreating backside. 

 

Kieran groaned.  She was never going to hear the end of it, she just knew it.

 

_______________

 

B'Elanna Torres met with the holographic version of Deanna Troi, who assessed her mental state and put her on leave for a week, with instructions to report back for reassessment at that time.  B'Elanna didn’t feel like she needed a week off, but she wasn’t going to argue.  She had a lot of thinking to do.

 

She also had to report to Janeway, who had certainly been advised about Mariah Henley’s condition earlier that morning.  B'Elanna hadn’t decided if she should tell the truth about Henley’s blood alcohol content, and get Tristan and half the lower decks thrown in the brig, plus make multiple enemies, or if she should stick to her story that she didn’t know how Mariah had gotten so intoxicated.   She thought long and hard on the walk to the ready room, and decided she could tell the truth without really telling Janeway anything.  After all, she didn’t really know what they were drinking, where Mariah got it, or how much they drank.

 

She hesitated outside the ready room door, reaching for the chime, then withdrawing her hand nervously.  She hadn’t seen Kathryn since the latest falling out with Kieran, and Kathryn would likely take Kieran’s side.  Gathering her courage, she rang the chime.

 

“Come!” Janeway called out.

 

B'Elanna entered, scanning the room.

 

“Up here, B'Elanna,” she called down from the upper deck.

 

B'Elanna ascended the stairs slowly.  “Good afternoon, Captain.”

 

Kathryn stood and held out her hands.  “How are you doing, B'Elanna?” she asked with genuine concern crinkling the corners of her eyes.

 

“I’ve been better,” B'Elanna stated matter-of-factly.  “But I’m better today than I was yesterday.”

 

Kathryn invited her to sit down, and they tucked their legs companionably on the sofa.  “Kieran is a wreck.  Have you seen her since yesterday?”

 

B'Elanna shook her head.  “I doubt I’ll see her for a very long time, other than staff meetings.  She said she’d have her legal representative contact me about visitation,” she added.  “I’d rather work it out directly with her, but I interpreted that to mean she isn’t speaking to me.”

 

Kathryn dipped her head in acknowledgement.  “I’m sorry, for both of you.  I wish you’d both reconsider.  But it’s none of my business, and I won’t try to pretend it is.  You know if there’s anything you need, you only have to ask,” she promised, taking B'Elanna’s hand.  “Just because Kato and I are so close, don’t assume I can’t be there for you, too.  I’ve known you a lot longer,” she assured her Chief Engineer.

 

“Thank you, Captain,” B'Elanna squeezed her hand.  “Just—please, take care of her.  Make sure she eats,” B'Elanna blinked back tears.

 

“Already taken care of.  Noah Lessing is assigned to watch out for her.  Now as much as I hate to put you through anything further, I’m afraid I got a very disturbing report from sickbay this morning.  Your—personal life—is none of my business.  But I understand that Mariah Henley was in pretty bad shape when you took her to sickbay this morning.”

 

“Yes, Ma’am,” B'Elanna admitted, quaking inside. “We had had a lot to drink.  I forget sometimes that I can assimilate alcohol a lot better than most humans.  Mariah must have been matching me drink for drink.”

 

“What were you drinking?  The Doctor said it must have been nearly 200 proof,” Janeway was still amazed at that.

 

“I’m not really sure.  I was playing poker with some friends, and Mariah was there.  After we stopped playing, she asked me to have a drink with her.  I’d already had a couple during the game.  We were sitting in a pretty dimly lit area, and I don’t really recall what she brought over.”

 

“You couldn’t tell from the taste?” Janeway pressed.

 

“Not really.  To me, alcohol all tastes the same, unless it’s something with low content, like beer or wine.  I think it was clear, but I couldn’t say for sure.  It was pretty potent stuff, but I don’t know what it was.”

 

“Do you recall if she replicated it?” Kathryn asked, sensing B'Elanna wasn’t telling her quite everything.

 

“I don’t remember seeing her go to the replicator.  She brought over a glass serving container, and poured drinks from that.  She could have replicated it, though.  Like I said, the lighting wasn’t very bright.”

 

Kathryn nodded thoughtfully.  “And her wounds?”

 

B'Elanna started.  She thought the Doctor would omit that portion of the story, since Mariah wasn’t upset over it.  “I think you know how she got those, Captain,” B'Elanna studied her hands, not meeting Kathryn’s eyes.

 

“I suspected, but I really didn’t think—I mean,” Kathryn stammered.

 

“I know, Kieran and I just split up.  It’s pretty rare for Klingons to divorce, but I can assure you, it’s very common in our culture to go—carousing—after a break up,” B'Elanna explained, though the words seemed hollow.  “I thought it would make me feel better.  It didn’t.”

 

“I’m not here to judge your sexual customs,” Kathryn assured her.  “But Henley was in pretty bad shape, B'Elanna.”

 

“That’s why I got her to sickbay.  I’m sorry, Captain.  I didn’t know things had gotten so out of hand, honestly.  I was appalled when I woke up with her and she was obviously in a state.  I’ll be more careful in the future,” she added.  “Mariah hasn’t made a complaint, has she?”

 

“Not at all,” Kathryn assured her.  “In fact, she told me she’s physically fine, and wouldn’t hesitate to spend the night with you again.  I’d say that’s a pretty resounding absolution.  She told me the drink you were sharing was supplied by the host of the party, but she wasn’t really sure who the host was.  Do you know?”

 

“Not really,” B'Elanna dissembled.  “It’s different on the lower decks, Captain.  A different world.  They have a very distinct subculture within our Voyager culture.  People go in and out of each other’s quarters at will.  Half the time, you don’t know whose quarters are whose.”

 

Kathryn accepted the explanation for the moment.  “Tuvok tells me there’s a rumor that someone on the lower decks is running a still.  Do you know anything about that?”

 

“Only the rumor.  I’ve never seen a still anywhere,” she replied truthfully.

 

“Are you and Mariah Henley—together, now?” she asked, unable to resist.

 

B'Elanna smiled.  “Are you asking as my Captain, or as my friend?”

 

Kathryn blushed.  “As your nosey friend,” she admitted.

 

“We’re not together, though I think she wants to be.  I love Kieran.  I think it’s over with her, but I’m not giving up entirely.  I just don’t know how to try to patch things up, after everything that's happened.  You’ve been there, Kathryn, when you and Seven were fighting.  How do you recover from having said harsh things, from ultimatums and hurt feelings and from extreme positions?  I just don’t know,” she confided.  “Do you think you could get Naomi to run away again?” she teased.

 

Kathryn shook her head sadly.  “I only know that Seven and I both behaved badly; me, worst of all.   And I’m very lucky we were able to get past that very low point in our relationship.  I also know what Kieran’s afraid of with you, and I don’t really understand it, but then I’ve never had a lover treat me as badly as she was treated by P’Arth and by Robin Lefler.  I’ve tried to tell her she’s being absurd, thinking you might do the same thing to her, but I understand why she’s concerned.”

 

B'Elanna hung her head.  “You mean you understand because you saw how I was acting with Tom,” she said for her.

 

“That, and it’s pretty foreign to me to think about sleeping with someone else on the very day a relationship ends, too,” Kathryn admitted.  “And as much as Kieran professes to understand Klingon culture, I think she’d be appalled if she knew about Henley,” Kathryn warned her.

 

“It was a stupid thing to do,” B'Elanna agreed.  “I don’t know why I did it, except I was hurt and angry.  It wasn’t fair to Mariah, and it wasn’t honorable, but it was honest.  I don’t claim moral superiority.  I’m just a flawed individual, as Seven would say.”

 

Kathryn smiled.  “I love you, B'Elanna.  You know that.  No matter what happens with you and Kato, nothing will change that.  And if you find you want a relationship with Mariah Henley, she will be welcome in our home, as you will always be.”

 

“Thank you, Kathryn.  That means a lot to me.”

 

Janeway rested her face on her hand.  “I hate this,” she added.  “Seeing you both so torn up.”

 

“That’s how we felt about you and Seven,” B'Elanna recalled.  “Funny.  We were so sure it could never happen to us.”

 

_______________

 

B’Elanna Thompson-Torres sank to the couch, weary and forlorn.  The paths of least resistance, alcohol and gratuitous sex, had yielded no answers and precious little solace.  It didn’t stop her from replicating a carafe of wine, but she saw the attempt at comfort for the futility that it was.  And she was relegated to the only remaining course: endless, answerless questions.  Why in the name of Kahless had she let Tom Paris kiss her?  Of all the men on Voyager, why him? 

 

She remembered a good deal more now than she would have liked to admit, and much more had come back to her than she had told Kieran.  She had been aroused when he kissed her, more than willing, and at the last second, before she totally lost sight of propriety, she had pushed him away.  Reluctantly.  And now the thought of him repulsed her, left her faint with nausea.  She would give everything to take it back, that infractious second of indiscretion, but the damage was done.  Kieran had seen the kiss, had watched her wrap her legs around his hips.

 

She could recall other instances of feeling attracted to men, since marrying Kieran, but more notably, it had been her attraction to Seven that had asserted itself most insistently, when they were stranded together.  And that was all the more confusing to B’Elanna.  Kieran understood her, Seven did not.  Why would she have been so drawn to Seven?  Why would anyone tempt her from Kieran at all?  It was only recently that her dissatisfaction had become so persistent.  But what had set it off?  Could Kieran be right about her needing more?

 

Her feelings for Kieran were so elusive, as if her love hid itself away, only coming to the surface now that Kieran had distanced herself.  Why had she pushed her spouse away for so long?  What had she hoped to accomplish?  When Kieran had disappeared in that spatial rift, B’Elanna had been devastated.  Shouldn’t that experience have been enough to teach her how valuable and fragile their opportunities really were?

 

She could still feel Tom’s mouth on hers, his hips rocking between her thighs, the hard edge of the pool table beneath her buttocks.  I wanted him, she realized.  Seven was right.  I acted like I wanted him, because I did want him.  Does Kieran mean so little to me that I would sacrifice the relationship for one stolen moment with him?  And in a public place--God, did I have to humiliate her, on top of breaking her heart?

 

B’Elanna swallowed the dark liquid, crimson red, staining her lips as Kieran’s blood had on more than one occasion.  She shuddered deep within, remembering the mating rituals her wife had endured for her sake.  In spite of Kieran’s ability to withstand the violence of it, in spite of her willingness to try to accommodate B’Elanna’s blackest needs, B’Elanna reluctantly admitted to herself that she still thought of Kieran as weak.  Because she was human, because she was a woman, B’Elanna had always found her wanting on some level.   She wanted Kieran to be more aggressive, more demanding.  She had pushed her wife away, trying to provoke her into taking B’Elanna the way a man would, forcefully, certainly, and unyieldingly.  And Kieran could not do that, because in her mind, that violated consent.  If B’Elanna said no, it meant no.  But to a Klingon, a rejection was an invitation to force the issue.  Force was not a word in Kieran’s vocabulary.

 

B’Elanna sighed, throwing back the remains of her drink, wishing she could grind the glass to dust beneath her boot heel.  She had nearly torn Mariah Henley limb from limb, her desire had been so extreme and violent.  She had left the poor woman battered and bleeding, and it had still not fulfilled her bloodlust.   Kieran was right.  B’Elanna needed a man.  As much as she wished it weren’t true, as much as she wanted to be fulfilled by Kieran, she was not.

 

________________

 

Kieran Thompson spent two days and two nights in the constant company of Noah Lessing.  He cooked and she ate.  He made jokes, and she laughed, although it was often forced.  He challenged her to take him on at basketball and Velocity, and she met the challenge.  But Deanna Troi’s hologram still said Kieran’s affect was flat, her mood dysphoric, and her stress level off the scale.  Her heart monitor had gone off three times in 48 hours, and Noah had practically had heart failure himself worrying over it. 

 

On the third day, Noah booked the holodeck for most of the morning, thinking he needed a better distraction than basketball for his lanky friend.  Besides, he was tired of losing to her at hoops and Velocity.  Kieran had agreed to a holodeck excursion, but told him she needed to stop by her office to pick up a couple of things.  Before they went on their morning outing, he walked her to her suite.

 

“Feels like I’ve been gone a year,” she griped as she keyed the entrance. 

 

Noah wandered to the back room, where he himself had had a session or two with the Ship’s Counselor, remembering his rough transition to Voyager.  He recalled how he had grown to love Kieran Thompson, all those years ago.  She was an amazing woman.  She had certainly seen him through some very touch and go times.  He was grateful to be able to return the favor.

 

Out in the waiting area, Kieran was rifling through her desk, when the chime sounded.

 

“Come?” she called out.

 

Mariah Henley entered the Counselor’s office hesitantly.

 

“How can I help you, Mariah?” Kieran asked pleasantly, waving her to a chair.

 

“I—um—wanted to make an appointment to see you.  Chakotay says you’re off duty, but I don’t want to talk to some hologram.  Is there any way you can make an exception?” she brushed her short brown hair back from her cheeks, hoping.

 

Kieran studied her momentarily, trying to assess her status.  “I’d like to, but I’m not allowed to schedule appointments until the Doctor releases me.”

 

Kieran noted the disappointment that registered in the younger woman’s face, and felt sorry for her.  Her body language spoke volumes of the distress she was in, and she fidgeted visibly.  Kieran thought how small and vulnerable she looked, from her frightened brown eyes to her thin face. 

 

And then she saw it.  When Mariah squared her shoulders, her blouse opened at the throat, and the distinct injury of a Klingon mating ritual bite glared at Kieran from beneath the white fabric of her shirt.  Kieran stiffened.  “Your throat,” she murmured.  “Have you seen the Doctor for it?”

 

Mariah blushed and pulled her blouse closed, nodding.  “Yeah, he’s seen it.  I wouldn’t let him treat it.”

 

Kieran felt her façade crumbling, along with her sanity.  “I’m afraid for now, I’m not seeing anyone, Mariah.  Dee is a very competent therapist.  I highly recommend her.  In fact, I’m seeing her myself.  So if you’ll excuse me?” her hands were starting to tremble.

 

“Sure.  I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

 

Noah Lessing had seen from the doorway of the counseling room as Mariah Henley had inadvertently revealed her encounter with B'Elanna Torres, plain as day.  He felt thoroughly sick inside, and went to Kieran the instant the door had closed.

 

“Computer, erect a level II privacy seal on the door,” he ordered, kneeling in front of Kieran’s chair, turning it so she was facing him.  “I saw,” he said.  “Are there any other Klingons on Voyager?”

 

Kieran shook her head.  “She claimed her, Noah.  She blood bonded with her,” she mistakenly reported, her voice shaking.  “It hasn’t even been a week.  Hell, that wound was at least two days old—it’s scabbed over.  She fucked that woman the second I was out the door,” she leaned forward, resting her chin on his shoulder.  “Our marriage meant nothing to her.”

 

Noah patted her back, cognizant that he had better get Kieran home before the next wave of misery hit her.  “I think the holodeck can wait, KT.  Let’s go home,” he murmured, pulling them both to their feet.

 

“Okay,” she acquiesced easily.  “I think I’m going to take one of those hyposprays the Doctor left, and sleep.  I need to sleep, bud,” she pleaded, but before he could reply, she doubled over, retching her breakfast all over the corridor outside her office.  She heaved and heaved, unable to stand straight, and he steadied her. 

 

“Let’s get you to sickbay,” he said gently, helping her walk.  “Can you straighten up?”

 

Kieran held her stomach tightly, still retching, though it was merely dry heaves now.  “Nope.  It hurts, bud.”

 

“Okay, KT,” he wrapped his arms around her waist, helping her along the corridor.  “Just around this corner,” he eased them onto the turbo lift.  “Hang in, girl.  Doc will fix you up.”

 

The turbo-lift stopped at the next deck and Rachel McVicker stepped aboard.  The sight of her tore through Noah like a jagged shard of glass. 

 

“Hey,” Rachel said softly.  “KT, you okay?”

 

“Peachy,” Kieran replied, retching some more.

 

“Can I help?” she asked Noah.

 

“Yeah, help me get her to sickbay,” he replied gratefully.  “I’d carry her, but she’s almost my size,” he explained.

 

“No insults,” Kieran shot at him.

 

Rachel lay a comforting hand on her back.  “You two,” she rolled her eyes.

 

The Doctor gave Kieran a histamine antagonist agent, advised her she was developing an ulcer, and put her on a strict diet to control the symptoms. 

 

“No alcohol?” she wailed.  “Forget it, Doc.  I am not giving up beer,” she rebelled, scanning the list.  “No hot peppers?  No spicy foods?  That’s all Neelix can make, Doc.  Everything he concocts is full of Talaxian spices.  You want me to starve?”

 

“On the contrary, I want you to eat better.  Here’s a replicator code list.  Everything on this list is acceptable for your diet, tastes wonderful, and counts as only one replicator ration.  Because you’re so thin, I’ve boosted the calorie content.  Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, Counselor,” the Doctor advised.  “Number eleven is Seven’s own creation.  I especially like it.”

 

Kieran scowled.  She refrained from pointing out that the Doctor would probably think Seven’s toe jam tasted swell, as long as it came from her Borgness.  “Since when do holograms eat?”

 

“I’ve tried everything on that list.  I don’t endorse things I haven’t tasted,” he sniffed indignantly.

 

“Very conscientious of you,” Kieran replied, finishing the drink he had thrust upon her.  “But this tastes like crap,” she wiped the frothy pink foam from her upper lip.

 

“That’s not food, it’s medication,” he defended himself.

 

Rachel crossed her arms.  “You’d think after centuries of medical research, you guys could make medicine that tastes good,” she pointed out critically.

 

“We usually do, but this particular elixium suspension is one we can’t mask the taste of.  Let that be your motivation, Counselor.  Get better, and you can avoid drinking more of this,” he lectured cheerfully, taking the cup.

 

While the Doctor went over the diet in detail with the Counselor, Rachel pulled Noah into the Doctor’s office.

 

“How have you been?” she asked warmly, filling her eyes with the sight of him.

 

“Busy.  Taking care of KT is a full-time job,” he replied.  “You look great.  But then you always do,” he added, remembering every line in her face, every curve of her form.

 

“Thanks.  Noah,” she began, trying to deflect the feeling of missing him terribly, “what the hell is going on with KT and B'Elanna?  Are they really calling it quits?” she asked in disbelief.

 

“Looks that way,” Noah frowned.  “It also looks like B'Elanna has moved on in rapid succession.  Mariah Henley is sporting a ritual mating scar,” he gossiped.  “B'Elanna is the only one who could have given it to her.”

 

“But—wait.  If B'Elanna is bonded with Henley, why did she ask me out?” Rachel was confused.

 

Noah tried to silence the angry reaction he felt boiling in his gut.  “B'Elanna asked you out?”

 

Rachel nodded.  “She wanted to meet me for dinner this weekend.  Would she be doing that if she were serious about Mariah?”

 

Noah scowled.  “Who the hell knows, with Klingons.  She sure didn’t waste any time nailing Henley,” he observed.  “KT is just dying, Rach.  She loves B'Elanna so much.  I hope you didn’t agree to go out with B'Elanna, when KT is such a good friend to you—to both of us,” he stated emphatically.

 

Rachel shrugged.  “It’s just dinner, Noah.  She didn’t ask me to swap mating scars in her bed,” she countered defensively.  “And if it’s really over with her and KT, what harm is there?”

 

Noah crammed his hands in his sweatpants pockets.  “Oh, no harm at all, Rach.  I’m sure KT will be thrilled to know that you went after her wife before the divorce was even discussed.”

 

“You sound like maybe you’re the one who’s upset,” she pointed out.

 

Noah wasn’t going to lie about it.  “I’m not happy about it, of course, but we knew that it would be tough the first time we saw the other with someone else,” he agreed.  “But you’d better think twice about this, Rachel.  KT is really vulnerable right now.  If you cross her, or do anything she perceives as crossing her, you’re likely to lose her friendship completely.”

 

“It’s a harmless date,” she reiterated.  “If B'Elanna proposes, I’ll be sure and say no,” she flounced out of the room without saying good-bye.

 

Noah went back into the ward, plastering a smile on his face for Kieran’s sake.  “All done?” he asked amiably.

 

Kieran nodded.  “You okay, bud?”

 

He snorted.  “You mean because of seeing Rachel?  Yeah, fine.  Let’s go,” he put an arm around his friend.

___________________

 

Naomi Wildman snuck along the trails of the forests of Grailen, agitated and afraid of being discovered.  By now, the whole crew would be searching for her, and she did not want to be found.  Sweat ran down her throat and back, her clothes clinging uncomfortably to the moisture of her skin.  Her heart pounded wildly as she moved along the wooded path, eyes darting for signs of potential captors.  She labored to breathe, felt eyes boring into her from all directions, knew she would be caught any second.  She started to jog, hoping to elude the security team that was certainly on her heels.  She felt hot breath behind her, heard footsteps pounding as they approached, felt fingers closing on her shoulder and jerking her to a halt.  She cried out at the roughness of the grip that spun her around, and losing her balance, she fell, twisting and skidding along the dust and leaf-covered ground. 

 

“I won’t go back!” she shouted angrily, rolling over as she tumbled, turning to face her captor.

 

A Maltanian with a disrupter rifle glared down at her, face tight and menacing.  “You’re not going back to Voyager,” he hissed.  “You’re going with me,” he snatched her arm and tapped a device on his tunic. 

 

They materialized in Dutritt’s laboratory, where Kit McCallister lay staked out on an examining table, half-dissected but still quite alive.  She groaned in pain as an assistant experimented on her.  She spotted Naomi, and cried out for help.  “Na!” she lurched toward the strawberry blonde engineer, “Help me!  God, they’re killing me!”

 

Naomi froze in horror at the spectacle.  “Kit!” she tried to move toward her, but Dutritt yanked her back again.

 

Suddenly phaser fire erupted around them, and Kieran was there, gathering Naomi into powerful arms and whisking her away from the lab.  “Hang on,” she shouted over the whine of the battle, “I’m taking you home.”

 

“Go back for Kit,” Naomi pleaded, clinging to her rescuer.  “Kieran--go back!”

 

“She’s not real, Naomi,” Kieran ignored her urgent request, running for the transport coordinates. “And if I get you killed trying to rescue her, Kathryn will never forgive me.”

 

“Go back!” Naomi demanded.  “Damn it, Kieran, we can’t just leave her like this!”

 

Kieran snorted.  “They’re waiting for us at home.  The only thing that matters is getting you home.”

 

A volley of shots whizzed by and one caught Kieran squarely in the back as she ran.  She dropped Naomi, who slid down the corridor of the ship on her belly, face still turned toward the writhing Counselor.  Dutritt stood over her, a thick boot jammed into her sternum, and fired a shot point blank into Kieran’s head.  Naomi watched her die in a blast of light and heat.  She screamed with fury and disbelief, an ear-shattering cry…

 

Seven of Nine was down the hallway of the Captain’s quarters in three steps, reacting to the piercing shout that had come from Naomi’s bedroom.  She found Naomi bolt upright in bed, drenched in sweat, eyes wide with terror and shoulders shaking.  She took the smaller Ktarian in a firm embrace, holding tightly to her.  “I’m here,” she assured her.  After a long while, she smoothed the frightened young woman’s hair back and asked “Another nightmare?”

 

Naomi nodded meekly.  “Why won’t they stop?” she murmured.

 

Seven swallowed her concern.  “I think they are a manifestation of something that is bothering you.  Are you aware of anything that has you upset?”  Seven already knew that the troubles between Kieran and B’Elanna were the root of the disease, but she wanted Naomi to tell her so.

 

“Well,” Naomi began slowly, “I’ve been working in Engineering more.  I know B’Elanna is having a bad time over her breakup with Kieran.  I feel sorry for them both,” she explained.

 

“I think there is more,” Seven urged her daughter.  “You haven’t spent any time with Kieran since their fallout, have you?”

 

Naomi hung her head.  “No.  I want to but—it feels—disloyal to B’Elanna,” she stammered, “which is confusing, because it seems to me like this whole thing was B’Elanna’s fault.  I know I shouldn’t take sides, and I don’t mean to,” she added quickly.

 

Seven kissed the crown of her head, still holding her.  “I know, sweetie.  You love them both, and you don’t want to hurt either one of them.  Yet it feels like you’re taking sides, no matter what you do.  I feel the same.”

 

“You do?” Naomi was surprised that the former Borg drone would feel any sort of moral conflict.  Usually her logic was so impeccable, there was no room for confusion.

 

“Yes.  I love both of them, and it hurts me to see them hurt each other.  I have been much closer to B’Elanna since this whole thing started.  I am afraid Kieran may feel that I’ve betrayed her, by being supportive of B’Elanna.”

 

Naomi nodded.  “Me too.  I want to make it right, but I don’t want to see Kieran all broken up over it.  I don’t think I can stand it.  I know what it makes me feel like when she is devastated,” Naomi recalled her final hallucination from Restid Three, in which she had refused Kieran’s marriage proposal.

 

Seven was puzzled.  “What do you mean?  When have you ever seen her devastated, before now?” she asked gently.  Seven was well aware that Naomi’s hallucinations had been life-altering experiences, and that the young woman had yet to reveal the content of them to anyone but Dee.  She wanted to share them with her daughter, because Naomi had been so extremely different since the experience, and Seven needed to understand the changes in the Ktarian.

 

Naomi sighed.  It felt like she was carrying a load of duranium on her shoulders with the memories of her ‘other lives’.  She thought about them all the time, although she wished she could stop.  Maybe if she told Seven, the obsession would abate.  Kieran had wanted so badly to get Naomi to open up, but it was just too difficult to share the memories with her, because in all three scenarios, Kieran had played an integral part in Naomi’s life.   Seven would be objective, of that, Naomi was certain.  She bit her lip and tested the waters.  “It was in one of my hallucinations,” she confided.  “Are you sure you want to know this stuff?”

 

Seven hugged her warmly.  “I love you, Naomi.  I want to know every last detail, because it was important to you.  Everything that is important to you is important to me,” she assured her daughter.

 

“Even in the middle of the night?” Naomi wasn’t convinced.

 

“Especially in the middle of the night,” Seven confirmed.

 

Naomi snuggled into Seven’s arms.  “You are so kind to me,” she murmured.  “I better start at the beginning,” she decided.  “B’Elanna was killed in a terrible Cardassian attack on Kieran’s ship,” she recalled…

 

___________________

 

B’Elanna Torres fervently hoped she would not run into Mariah Henley, but the lower decks beckoned her like a hypnotic drug, pulling at her with an unseen force.  She knew she shouldn’t go, knew she would regret it in the morning, but she went anyway.  Kieran had Katie for the night, and this was her only chance to get away from the deteriorating ship, the constant alerts in Engineering, and the strain of agonizing over her lost marriage.

 

Tristan Garrett was tending bar, and his face lit up when she came in. 

 

“Lieutenant,” he greeted her with a dazzling smile.  “So glad to see you again.  Though after your last visit, we had some pretty intense inquiries from Security,” his brow narrowed as he leaned across the bar, biceps bulging under his t-shirt.  “You wouldn’t be a spy, would you?”

 

B’Elanna blanched.  “No, Tristan, of course not.  I’m afraid it was my fault, though.  I got a little--carried away--with Mariah, and she ended up in sickbay.  So Tuvok felt the need to do some snooping.  I’m sorry,” she said sincerely.

 

“No hard feelings, then,” Tristan assured her, pouring her a drink.  “On the house,” he inclined his head, dark eyes flashing.  He ran his fingers through the thick mane of his dark brown hair, appraising her.  “You know, if you’d pick sexual partners that don’t bleed so easily, B’Elanna, you might be able to avoid scrutiny,” he lowered his voice so no one would overhear, leaning even closer to the Klingon.

 

B’Elanna gave him a feral grin.  “How easily do you bleed, Mr. Garrett?”

 

He grabbed her wrist, yanking her palm to his face, sniffing her like a Klingon.  “Not easily at all, Lieutenant,” he breathed on her fingers, closing his eyes.

 

B’Elanna was transfixed.  “Let’s find out if you’re being honest, shall we?” she asked, her breath shuddering. 

 

He grinned, stepping out from behind the makeshift counter, reclaiming her hand.  “Your quarters should be more private than mine,” he nodded at the small enclave of visitors.  “Unless you’d prefer--”

 

“My quarters are fine,” B’Elanna assured him, turning to go.

 

They never spoke a word as they walked briskly from the turbo lift to the door of B’Elanna’s quarters, and the second they were inside, Tristan had her wrist bent back so harshly, the pain almost bowed the Klingon down to the ground.  He breathed over her hand, his grip crushing hers, her fingernails pressing into her palm as he closed his fist over her fingers.  The laceration of her flesh caused dark red blood to run down her hand, and he sniffed it as if he could smell the richness of it.  B’Elanna’s eyes rolled back in her head as he kissed the rivulets from her palm, then grabbed her face and kissed her with his blood-smeared mouth.

 

She tore at his bottom lip, tasting his blood mingled with her own, and the clothing started to fly.  His body was solid muscle, unlike Tom Paris’ softer, less masculine form, and Tristan Garrett was strong.  Once they were naked, he picked her up effortlessly, carrying her into the bedroom.  He threw her onto the mattress, pinning her wrists above her head, bruising her lips with a biting kiss, letting her taste her own blood again.  He stretched his body against hers, his erection hard against her thigh, teeth punishing her nipples.  She arched beneath him, but refused to open her legs.  She fought him off, loving the game, egging him on, until finally, he forced her legs apart and thrust into her, making her cry out sharply.

 

B’Elanna groaned beneath her partner, sinking her fingernails into his ass, shrieking as she came.  It had been years since she had been with a man, and her body had forgotten how primal it felt to be taken this way.  Tristan Garrett was all forcefulness and aggression, and he seemed to be able to control his own response without effort, thrusting for all he was worth without coming, driving B’Elanna to orgasm repeatedly.  They moved together, sweating and panting, straining and urgent, and B’Elanna knew in the pit of her gut that Kieran had been right.  She could not go without this forever, would not deny herself this frenzied, lustful, animal passion.

 

Tristan once again grabbed her hands, holding them above her head, restraining her so she could not shred his back, as she had his ass cheeks.  B’Elanna seemed to respond even more to being repressed, and he pounded his hips into her, squeezing her smaller bones in his powerful hands with crushing force, her wrists nearly fracturing.  He bit her throat roughly, drawing a fine trickle of blood, then kissed B’Elanna to let her taste it.  Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she reached a frantic state of bloodlust, thrusting upward to meet his motion, crying out soft and low as she came again.  He withdrew from her, turning her face down, entered her from behind, and nearly split her tight, puckered opening with his girth.  She crawled to her hands and knees, offering her ass to him, clutching the headboard of the bed as he penetrated her forcibly, and finally, blessedly, exploded deep inside her.

 

They collapsed together, the sheets a sticky mess of blood, sweat, and bodily fluids, instantly needing sleep.  He stayed inside her, flaccid but close enough to maintain intromission, and they surrendered to merciful unconsciousness.

___________________

 

Kieran Thompson held Katie Torres’ hand as they walked along the corridor of deck three, heading for B’Elanna’s quarters.  She picked up her daughter, hoisting her into her arms.

 

“Did you have fun with Trevis and Flotter, sweetie?” she asked gently, kissing Katie’s cheek.

 

“Flotter,” Katie repeated.  “Katie like Flotter,” she bounced happily in her mother’s arms.  “Marmar, come home?” she peered wistfully at her absentee mother, inclining her head toward the door of her quarters.

 

Kieran’s heart lurched in her chest.  “Sweetie,” she kissed the baby’s soft curls.  “Marmar loves you very much, but she doesn’t live here, now.  But I will see you every day, I promise, just like always,” she said softly, clinging to the toddler. 

 

She keyed the chime, and waited, but no one answered.  She could hear the muffled sounds of talking, behind the door.  “Mama must have overslept,” she advised her daughter.  “We’ll have to be patient.”

 

Finally, the door slid open, and B’Elanna emerged into the hallway, tugging on her robe as she exited their quarters,  instead of inviting Kieran in as she normally would.  “Um--sorry for the delay, I was in bed,” she admitted, forcing a smile.

 

Kieran took one look at her and nodded.  “I can see that,” she noted the bloody wound on B’Elanna’s throat.  “Next time I’ll hail before I show up--is that a better way to go?” she asked, fighting the jealousy that churned in her gut.

 

“Sure, that would work,” B’Elanna acquiesced, too disoriented to really think.  “Come on, honey,” she held out her hands to Katie, who leaned over into her arms and let B’Elanna take her from Kieran.

 

B’Elanna gazed up at her estranged wife, wishing for all the world things could be different, and knowing certainly, now, that they could not. 

 

“What?” Kieran caught the wistful expression B’Elanna wore.

 

B’Elanna shrugged.  “I miss you,” she said softly.

 

“Yeah, B'Elanna, it really looks like it,” Kieran said sarcastically.  “Your throat is bleeding,” she added pointedly.  “See you around,” she stepped back from the door, letting it close.

 

B’Elanna stepped back inside the quarters they had shared, taking Katie to the nursery, fighting a wave of nausea.  She knows, now. She knows I’ve been sleeping around. And I know now she was right about my sexual identity.  God, I’d give anything for it not to be true.  I’d give anything to be able to be faithful to her, for her to be enough.   “It’s okay, Tristan, she’s gone,” she called out. “Finish your breakfast.”

 

Kieran stood outside the door to her former quarters, held in place by her hurt and her anger.  She took several deep breaths, trying to calm her thundering rage.  You gave her back your ring.  You have no claim on her now.  Let it go, KT.  Walk away.  She has a lover.  She is not your Benal any longer.

 

The strains of a piano sonata filtered into the corridor, and Kieran realized Naomi was playing.  She moved unconsciously toward the melody, wrapping it around her senses, almost floating toward the notes until she was three doors down, outside the Captain’s quarters.  She leaned her head against the door, listening to the composition Naomi was working through.  The song began over again, the recitation playing through several bars, then stopping.  Naomi tinkered with a set of notes, then began again.  She changed the notes at the last bar, then changed them again.  Finally, she hit upon the mood she wanted, and played the piece from the opening through the completed movement.

 

God, she’s good, Kieran realized, comforted by the sound. 

 

Three doors down, Tristan Garrett finished the huge meal B’Elanna had prepared, silent.  He fixed her with a pointed stare.  “Thanks for feeding me,” he said.  “I’m going to go now.  But don’t be a stranger, B’Elanna, promise?”

 

She grinned wickedly.  “You’ll be seeing me,” she assured him.

 

He slipped into the hallway outside B’Elanna’s door, without noticing Kieran was standing outside the Captain’s quarters. Kieran spotted the handsome crewman sneaking out of her wife’s residence, riveted to the spot as he walked down the corridor in the opposite direction, almost sprinting for the turbo lift.

 

She had known the truth all along about B’Elanna.  Whatever her situation with Mariah Henley, B’Elanna was definitely exercising her bisexual muscles.  She watched Tristan’s retreating backside, feeling sick inside.  All those years, B’Elanna had denied herself, and for what?  And the moment Kieran was gone, B’Elanna had reverted to her former sexual practices.  Truly, there would be no working it out, no starting point to negotiate from, no chance at reconciliation.  It was, once and for all, over. 

 

Sanctuary, her brain echoed the word, associating it with the piano music filling her mind, filling her soul.  Without thinking, she rang the chime, drawn inexplicably to the richness of the song.  Seven of Nine answered, smiling at the Counselor, eyes shining.

 

“Good morning,” Seven said pleasantly.  “What a nice surprise,” she ushered the taller woman into the living room, hugging her lightly.  “You’re just in time for waffles and fruit.”

 

Kieran forced a grin, though her throat ached and her heart felt so leaden it could barely beat.  “I shouldn’t have dropped by unannounced.  I was just returning Katie to B'Elanna and I overheard Naomi playing.  I couldn’t resist the song of the siren,” she nodded in the Ktarian’s direction.

 

Naomi was so absorbed in her work, she didn’t even realize they had company until she stopped playing to notate the last section she had completed, and overheard Kieran’s voice.  “Hey,” she smiled broadly.  “What brings you by?”

 

“I was just telling Seven that I went to B'Elanna’s, and when I heard you playing, I couldn’t tear myself away.”

 

Naomi blushed.  “Thanks.  I’ll play something for you, if you like.  You look sort of down, KT,” she knew the older woman’s moods so well.

 

Seven urged Kieran to the couch.  “You sit and listen.  I’ll get you some coffee and start breakfast.”

 

“Where’s Kat?” Kieran wondered.

 

“Off dealing with some crisis in the Mess Hall.  Neelix was having a bad morning, and Kathryn had to intercede,” Seven explained.  “Sit down, Kieran,” Seven commanded rather than requested.

 

Kieran smiled over at the strawberry blonde engineer.  “You’ve gotten so good, Na,” she praised the young woman.  “Don’t let me interrupt.  It sounded wonderful from the hallway,” she added.

 

“Okay,” Naomi agreed, launching into a lively piece, fingers dancing lightly over the keys.

 

Kieran settled into the cushions of the couch, stretching her blue jean clad legs out on the sofa, one arm folded beneath her head.  She closed her eyes and let the music nurture her.  B'Elanna, mating wounds, tousled hair, bloodlust and whispered intimacies were forgotten, carried away from Kieran’s thoughts as Naomi worked her magic.

 

Seven brought coffee, but stopped to watch the Counselor’s face, and the troubled, tortured expression she wore.  Seven gracefully sank to the floor beside Kieran, setting her mug on the coffee table.  Seven rarely reached out physically to adults other than Kathryn, but she took Kieran’s hand, twining their fingers together.  “Healing, isn’t it?” she asked faintly, meaning Naomi’s playing.

 

Kieran nodded.  “And believe me, I needed healing,” she murmured, words masked from Naomi’s ears by the music.  “B'Elanna came to the door with a bloody bite mark on her throat,” Kieran confided.  “I’m hogging the couch, your Borgness, get up here,” she tugged Seven off of the floor and onto the sofa.

 

Seven squeezed her fingers sympathetically.  “I’m sorry, Kieran.  I know you’re going through a difficult time.  I also know B'Elanna loves you, and would like nothing better than to have you go home again, but she’s convinced it’s too late to do anything about the distance between you.”

 

Kieran grabbed Seven, hugging her fiercely, and started to cry.  Seven held her then, gathering her into Borg enhanced arms.  Kieran shook with the realization that her marriage was over, her sorrow pouring out into Seven’s shirt front. 

 

When Kieran had vented some of her pain, Seven stroked the long, soft braid of hair down Kieran’s back, letting the taller woman sink into her arms.  “Tell me,” she said softly.

 

Kieran shuddered.  “I saw Tristan Garrett leaving my quarters.  B'Elanna wasn’t with Mariah Henley.  She was with him,” she reported, a fresh wave of tears coming.  “I knew she wanted to be with men,” she stated the awful truth.  “I never really was enough for her.”

 

Seven leaned them both back against the arm of the couch, Kieran cradled against her chest.  “I’m so sorry,” she kissed Kieran’s hair tenderly, knowing the Counselor’s heart was breaking all over again.  “I really didn’t know, or I would have told you.  B'Elanna never said a word to me about him,” Seven promised, thinking she would give B'Elanna a piece of her mind.  “Kieran,” she murmured, “honey, please, don’t cry.  I can’t bear it,” she admitted, hugging her closer.

 

Kieran wiped her face, sniffling.  “I’m sorry, Seven, it’s selfish of me to just dump this on you,” she apologized.  “I know you’re B'Elanna’s friend, and this is likely awkward for you.  I’ll go,” she pulled away.

 

Seven held her in place, not relinquishing the Counselor’s body.  “I love you,” she whispered fiercely, with more vehemence than either woman expected.   “It’s not awkward.  You are family, to me.  My heart aches for you, and I would give anything to make it better.  But I cannot.”

 

Kieran snuggled into her, relenting immediately.  “I love you, too, your Borgness,” she returned, arm resting across Seven’s torso.  “Hang on to me, because I think I’m going to shatter,” she requested, eyes misting yet again.

 

“I’ve got you,” Seven assured her, patting her back soothingly.  Kieran lay in her arms, crying silently, holding on as if Seven were a life raft.  “It’s been a long time since you let me hold you,” Seven reminded her.  “I’ve missed it.”

 

“So have I,” Kieran agreed.  “God, you feel so good,” she sighed, relaxing finally.  “Safe.  Why is it no one else feels as safe as you?” she wondered aloud.  “You know, in my whole marriage, whenever anything was wrong in my life, I went to you or Naomi, not B'Elanna.  Not Kathryn.  What do you suppose that means?”

 

“That you trust us,” Seven supplied.  “As well you should.  Naomi loves you unconditionally, as do I,” she admitted, eyes closing with the emotion.

 

Kieran thought about it a moment before saying “Please, don’t say anything to Naomi about Tristan, okay?”

 

“All right.  Is there a reason why not?” Seven rubbed Kieran’s neck, loosening the tension.

 

“Yes.  She might hold it against B'Elanna, because she loves me so much.  I don’t want Naomi to think less of her, because of how much B'Elanna has hurt me,”  Kieran said gently.  “B'Elanna is like a god to Naomi, and I don’t want to rob Naomi of her illusions.”

 

“Understood,” Seven hugged Kieran tighter.  “Though B'Elanna does not deserve your willingness to protect her image,” she groused.

 

“She can’t help herself, not really,” Kieran decided.  “She is what she is.  A bisexual woman.  And I should have thought about that long before I married her.  It’s as much my fault as it is hers,” she wiped her face again, trying to get herself under control.

 

Naomi finished her composition, sniffing the air and realizing there was still no breakfast cooking.  She turned on the piano bench and saw that Kieran was lying in Seven’s arms, crying.  She wordlessly retreated to the kitchen, starting the waffles and cutting up the fruit.  God, she’s so torn up over this thing with B'Elanna.  I can’t believe B'Elanna was stupid enough to let her get away, for whatever reasons.  I can’t figure out what could have happened between them, and I don’t believe the Tom Paris rumors for a nanosecond.  B'Elanna isn’t cruel enough to be unfaithful, she peeked out at the two women, noting that Kieran was struggling to control herself.  I’ve never seen her like this before. I would give anything to hold her like that, make her tears stop.  She’s so beautiful.  I would give anything to have someone love me as much as she loves B'Elanna.  I’d give anything if Kieran would only love me that much.  Anything.

 

Naomi sighed and turned her attention back to the fruit she was slicing.  She made three servings of everything, and a smaller serving for Geejay.  She poured batter into the waffle iron, placing the finished squares under a stasis lid to keep them piping hot.  When everything was ready, she heated maple syrup, set the table, and entered the living room again.  Kieran looked dazed.

 

“Breakfast is ready, Mom,” she said to Seven.  “Please—both of you, come and eat,” she urged.

 

Kieran reluctantly disengaged from Seven’s embrace.  “Thanks for anchoring me, your Borgness.  I needed you.”

 

Seven’s face softened.  “You can always come to me, Kieran.  Please, trust that,” she touched the Counselor’s tear stained cheek.  “Go wash up in my ensuite,” she encouraged her companion, leading her into the bedroom she shared with the Captain.

 

She stood outside the restroom, watching as Kieran splashed cold water on her face, holding her face in her hands to chill the puffiness of her eyes away.  How could B'Elanna be such a fool?  She wondered, sky blue eyes fixed on the Counselor.  She is so gentle, so kind, and so giving.  And B'Elanna traded that for meaningless sex, instant gratification, for the right to sleep with men.  If only Kathryn could be as gentle and as devoted as Kieran was to B'Elanna.  If only she would make the effort, take the time, be the parent Kieran is.

 

 “You look better,” Seven told the Counselor sincerely, mouth suddenly dry. 

 

Kieran smiled.  “Thanks, Seven.  I needed to tell someone, and I needed to be held.  I won’t forget that you met both needs,” she assured her.

 

Seven swallowed hard.  “You are so lovely when you smile,” she said absently.  “This is surely B'Elanna’s loss,” she murmured, transfixed by soft brown eyes and a winning grin.  “She will live to regret this, Kieran, much more deeply than she already does.”

 

Kieran nodded.  “Let’s not keep your daughter waiting.  She was good enough to make breakfast when I was rude enough to interrupt it.”

 

___________________

 

Naomi Wildman knew that she had been negligent in her friendship with Kieran Thompson, because she had been avoiding her ever since the fallout between Kieran and B'Elanna, and it had been weeks.  It was hard for the young woman to accept, and harder still to face Kieran when Naomi knew she would be hurting every bit as badly as B'Elanna.  B'Elanna was more stoic about emotional things than Kieran, and Naomi appreciated the Klingon’s ability to appear as if things were fine when they weren’t.  It was a trait she hoped she could adopt, someday.

 

Naomi knew Kieran wouldn’t be able to hide the distress she felt, and so she had procrastinated in seeing the Counselor.  It made no sense to Naomi that both women could be so miserable, and so stymied in their ability to find a solution to their differences.  The more she watched grown-ups tackling their day to day lives, the less she wanted to become one of them.  They seemed so inadequate to the task.  And yet, she knew she was already a young adult, and she knew there was no point in fighting it.

 

Even more than the avoidance of seeing Kieran’s distress, Naomi did not want Kieran to find out just how sick she had been.  Her maturation issues were creating life-threatening circumstances for her, and she had spent more time in sickbay than she cared to recall.  She knew her health was failing, and she knew that was one thing Kieran did not need to deal with, right now.  She feared that if she spent time with the Counselor, Kieran would catch on to how sick Naomi truly was.  Naomi did not think she could bear the burden of Kieran finding out how little time they might have left together.

 

Friendship was an ominous thing, Naomi decided, and set off to visit Kieran armed with a small bouquet of flowers and a smile.  She almost turned back several times, but chastised herself inwardly for her cowardice.  K-Mom had said Kieran needed them all, and that included everyone, even Geejay.  Naomi could hardly count herself out of that directive.  And Seven had encouraged her to confront her fear of seeing Kieran, if for no other reason than to try to stop the nightmares that had been plaguing her.  She rang the chime to Noah’s quarters, not knowing what to expect.

 

Noah answered the door, smiling as soon as he spotted Naomi.  “For me?” he joked, extending his hands for the flowers.

 

Naomi didn’t realize he was kidding.  “Sorry,” she snatched back the bouquet, lest he take it from her.  “They’re for KT.”

 

Noah ushered her into his abode, quipping “Well I don’t think she’s taking bouquets from pretty women just yet, but let’s ask her.”

 

Naomi rolled her eyes.  “It’s not a courting gesture, Ensign,” she said snootily.

 

Kieran came out from the bedroom, sporting a freshly shorn crop of very short hair with blonde highlights.  Naomi almost dropped the flowers. 

“KT, your hair!” she gasped, walking a circle around the Counselor to examine the new look.  “What in the world made you cut it all off?”

 

Kieran grinned.  “Old habit of mine.  Cut your hair in a crisis, you feel like you’ve got a new lease on life,” she explained.  “It takes something pretty drastic to get me to whack it off nowadays, but when I was a lot younger, every time something upset me, I ran to the barber.”

 

Naomi couldn’t quite adjust to the short locks, partly because it was so different than the ever-present braid, but also because Kieran looked so much like she had in Naomi’s hallucinations on Restid Three.  “Wow, it looks really different,” she commented.

 

Noah stepped up behind Kieran, scrubbing his fingers over her hair.  “I think it looks great,” he ruffled it vigorously. 

 

Naomi nodded slowly.  “Me too.  It seems more like your personality,” she decided.

 

Kieran winked.  “You mean wild and untamed?”

 

Noah smirked.  “More like weird and unruly,” he smarted.

 

Naomi giggled.  “I think he’s more on target, KT,” she teased.

 

“Well, thanks a lot, you two.  Are those for me?” she pointed to the forgotten flowers.

 

“Oh, yeah.  I was hoping you’re feeling better,” Naomi handed her the bouquet.  “Did cutting your hair help?”

 

Kieran went to the kitchen to get a vase.  “Actually, yes it did.  I don’t look like the person B'Elanna married, and so now I don’t completely feel like that same person,” she noted.  “Noah, don’t you have any vases?” she banged through the varied cabinets.

 

“She thinks I’m a girl,” he complained to Naomi.  Then to Kieran he called out  “No, Miss Missy, I don’t have any vases.  I have manly accoutrements, like beer mugs and aftershave bottles.  Nothing that will hold flowers.  Replicate something.”

 

Kieran shot him a dirty look.  “Flower vases are not feminine.  They are androgynous.  I swear, you men and your masculine pride.  No wonder I’m a lesbian,” she bitched.

 

She deposited the flowers in the newly replicated vase and took Naomi’s hand.  “Come sit with me.  Tell me what’s been going on with you.”

 

Naomi settled onto the couch.  “Well, B'Elanna—” she began.

 

“Eh!” Kieran cut her off with an uplifted palm.  “I don’t want to talk about the break up, or B'Elanna, or anything about that.  Okay?” she asked in an insistent tone.

 

“Okay,” Naomi reluctantly agreed.  “So I’ve been working in Engineering a bit, with a mentor who shall remain unnamed, at your request,” Naomi amended.  “Short shifts, mostly.  It gives me something to do besides school.  Speaking of which, we finally finished interspecies sexuality, thank Kahless,” she breathed with contempt. 

 

Noah sat in a chair beside the couch.  “Didn’t you like the class?  I was thrilled when I got to take it,” he added.

 

Naomi wrinkled her nose in distaste, her forehead gathering so that her brow protrusions bunched together.  "That’s because you’re male,” she intoned disdainfully.  “Females are less interested in sex,” she sounded superior.

 

Kieran snorted.  “Not this one,” she laughed, jabbing her own thumb into her chest.  “Someday you’ll be interested in it too, Na.  Probably just as much as any guy.”

 

“Thanks for defending my honor,” Noah said, though he scowled at them both.  “I think I’ll leave you two alone, if you’re going to insult me,” he added, rising to go.

 

Kieran jumped up.  “Hey, it’s your home, bud,” she grabbed his arm.  “Naomi and I can go to the mess hall or something.  You shouldn’t have to leave.”

 

He smiled, kissing her cheek.  “It’s okay.  I have a couple of things to tend to anyway, KT.  Will you hail me as soon as you two finish up?”

 

“What’s the matter, NoGame, afraid to leave me to my own devices?” she needled him.

 

He shrugged.  “Captain’s orders.  Until she tells me otherwise, you’re only alone when you’re at work and when you shower.  But then, I might join you for that, too,” he waggled his eyebrows.

 

“Pig,” Kieran accused, smacking his arm.  “Give us an hour,” she amended.

 

 

 

“So how have you been feeling, sweetie?  Any more problems with your legs?” Kieran asked, pulling the girl in for a hug.

 

“Not my legs,” she admitted, “but other things.  The Doctor is monitoring the situation.  It’s been--hard,” she leaned into Kieran. 

 

“Then honey, why aren’t you coming to talk to me about it?” Kieran squeezed her.  “You know I’ll listen.”

 

Naomi sighed.  “You have your own problems, KT.  What I have are growing pains, literally and figuratively.  I doubt there’s anything you could say or do to help.”

 

“Na,” Kieran kept her in a firm embrace, “my problems are infinitesimal compared to how worried I am about you.  Why do you think I’m constantly sending you messages?”

 

Naomi shrugged.  “Because it’s your job?”

 

Kieran shifted on the couch so that they were both sitting cross legged, facing each other.  She took Naomi’s hands, peering intently at her.  “Listen to me,” she said earnestly.  “I have tons of clients, and I assure you, I do NOT check in with them twice daily.  You are my friend, and I love you dearly.  I check in with you because your well-being is one of my top priorities, not because you’re some assignment my duties entail.”

 

“Really?” Naomi sounded so small.

 

Kieran felt a rush of painful regret.  “I’ve completely failed you, if you don’t know that in every molecule of your being,” she squeezed Naomi’s hands.  “Can’t you feel how important you are to me?”

 

“I want to,” she murmured.  “It’s just--sometimes, I’m afraid to feel things, especially now.  It’s like--everything is so overwhelming, so potent.  I can’t control my reactions--I get so angry, or so depressed, or so hostile.  I can’t seem to help it, or stop it.”

 

Kieran leaned her head against Naomi’s, looking into her eyes.  “That’s because you’re growing up.  All the changes I see in you, physically, emotionally, even spiritually--they are part and parcel of adolescence.  You remember how in interspecies sexuality, they talked about hormonal changes in humans, and in Ktarians, and how difficult it can be to deal with the intense feelings and emotions,” Kieran reminded her.

 

“I know, and that’s why I’m reluctant to reach out to anyone, KT.  Especially you.  I don’t want to do or say anything inappropriate, or hurtful,” she explained patiently.

 

“Na,” Kieran took her face in her hands, “if you hurt me, I will forgive you.  If you say something inappropriate, we’ll deal with it.  We’ve worked through some pretty big issues together.  Trust that we still can.  The bottom line with us will always be that I love you, unconditionally.”

 

Naomi smiled, though it was a bittersweet expression she wore.  “I love you, too,” she said softly, touching Kieran’s hair.  “I love the way you’ve changed this,” she rubbed her hands over the wild spikes.  She leaned forward and kissed Kieran’s cheek, her heart on her lips.  “I’ll try to open up more, but please, be patient with me.  Most of the time, I’m just so confused,” she let the Counselor enfold her in supportive arms.

 

“I’ll always be patient, sweetie.  I’ll wait as long as you need me to wait for you to open up more.  I’ll try not to take it personally when you can’t, sometimes,” she assured her.  “And I understand you’re confused.  You’ve become so beautiful,” she said wistfully, “and I see the way the crew looks at you.  If anyone is bothering you, don’t hesitate to tell me,” she asserted.  “I’ll give them what for.”

 

Naomi giggled.  “You’d have to kick ass with just about every man on board the ship,” she confided.  “But I don’t think beating the tar out of everyone is really an option.”

 

Kieran grinned.  “It’d make me feel better, though,” she teased.  “Seriously, Na.  I can have a talk with anyone who is making you feel uncomfortable.  Has anyone done anything unwanted?”

 

Naomi shook her head.  “No.  But the way I feel sometimes, I think maybe I want things I shouldn’t want.”

 

“Sexual urges?” Kieran pressed her.

 

Naomi nodded, blushing.  “The Doctor says I’m already past adolescence, now.  He places my physiological age at nineteen, and he says according to the psychological tests you gave me at the beginning of the school year, I’m intellectually and psychologically about twenty-four.  So I guess it’s not surprising that I’d have sexual urges.  I’m just not sure I’m ready to deal with them, though.”

 

Kieran thought carefully about how to phrase the next question.  “Have you--done anything about those urges?”

 

Naomi was flustered by the question, but after giggling nervously she said “Only by myself, so far.”

 

“That’s not a bad approach,” Kieran smiled.  “It’s a great tension release.”

 

Naomi studied the Counselor, a question on the tip of her tongue.

 

Kieran peered into her eyes with thinly concealed amusement.  “You want to know if I relieve my own tension?”

 

Naomi nodded slowly.

 

“Absolutely, whenever I feel the need,” Kieran admitted.  “Grant you, I don’t have much opportunity for privacy, lately, but I feel no compunction about it.  Neither should you.  I think of it as a tool, in a way.  For a young woman like you, it can help you control your frustration level, until the appropriate partner becomes available.  Someone you love and trust, that respects you.  Until that person comes along, your needs don’t have to be completely denied.”

 

“I can’t believe I asked you that,” Naomi hid her embarrassment in Kieran’s shirt.

 

“Hey,” Kieran pushed her back to make eye contact.  “You can ask me anything.  I can’t guarantee I’ll always answer you, but feel free to ask.”

 

Naomi relaxed, finally.  “Thanks.  I don’t know why I think I can’t talk to you, sometimes.  When I make the effort, you always come through for me,” she commented, perplexed.

 

“The more often you talk to me about difficult things, sweetie, the easier it will get.  So don’t be such a stranger,” she advised.  “Is there anything else on your mind?”

 

Naomi nodded.  “This is really hard to explain,” she began hesitantly.  “Lately, I feel like--” she stopped.

 

“It’s okay, honey, just say it,” Kieran hugged her again to bolster her confidence.

 

“Like I don’t just want sexual contact,” she blurted out, “but more physical contact.  It’s really weird, but all of a sudden, I want to have Seven cuddle me, or you, like I can’t--feel whole,” she explained.  “I’m supposed to be this grown up, but I want to crawl into your lap and be a kid again,” she admitted.

 

Kieran nodded, understanding perfectly.  “When you start the transition from childhood to adolescence, there’s a certain grief that comes with it.  You realize you’re losing the right, if you will, to ask for such intense and frequent physical affection, because teenagers assert their independence by refusing such contact.  So part of you wants to push everyone away, but at times, you feel the loss of physical affection so acutely, it’s actually painful, and you need to seek it out.  Is that what you mean?”

 

Naomi nodded.  “You’re so smart,” she breathed appreciatively.  “You can articulate things I can’t even begin to express.  So what do I do?”

 

“Ask for all the affection you need, if you can,” Kieran supplied.  “If you want Seven to hug you, initiate it.  Or ask her to hold you, if you’re feeling the need for contact.  What about Kathryn?”

 

“I could never ask her for that,” Naomi sighed.  “She and I just aren’t--that way.  I feel really comfortable with Seven, and with you.  But not K-Mom.  I think physical affection is hard for her.”

 

Kieran smiled.  “You’re pretty perceptive,” she complimented her friend.  “Kathryn has learned to be better about it, but you’re right, it’s a conscious effort for her.  I think it’s because she had herself convinced, until she fell in love with Seven, that she didn’t need human affection, and it was improper for a ship’s captain to give or receive it.”

 

“I’d like to be closer to her, but I just can’t seem to make myself trust that it’s okay.  So I go to Seven all the time, for everything, or to you,” she said regretfully.  “But for you and Seven, I’m afraid I’m being a burden.”

 

Kieran hugged her tightly.  “You are not a burden, Naomi.  Not to Seven, not to me.  Not ever.  You can always ask me, if you need a reassuring hug,” she promised her.  “I try to be in tune enough with you that you don’t even have to ask,” she said apologetically.  “I guess I’m not always as sensitive as I need to be.”

 

“No,” Naomi quickly replied, “you’re very good to me.  But sometimes, I just wish--”

 

Kieran held the young woman’s chin between her finger and thumb.  “Wish what?”

 

“I just want you to hold me, sometimes,” she admitted, though it cost her.  “Is that okay?”

 

Kieran smiled and pulled them both down on the couch, taking Naomi into the circle of her arms and propping them up on the throw pillows.  “It’s more than okay,” she sniffed Naomi’s hair affectionately.  “You know, sometimes, I just want to hold you, too.”

 

“You do?” Naomi was astonished.

 

“We all need it.  In fact,” Kieran remembered, “when I came home, after my displacement experience, I made Seven hold me all afternoon, one day,” she confided.  “It was the most healing thing anyone had done for me in a long time.  I will always be thankful that I asked her.”

 

“It’s hard to be that vulnerable, to put myself out there,” Naomi snuggled into Kieran’s shoulder.

 

“I know, sweetie, but you can trust me, and Seven, not to turn you away, ever,” she promised.  “Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Naomi agreed, closing her eyes and sinking into the warm embrace.  “Thanks, KT.”

 

_________________

 

Noah Lessing wasn’t exactly clear on the purpose of the session, but Seven of Nine had made him promise to meet her on the holodeck at his earliest opportunity.  Noah decided that Naomi’s visit was the perfect time to meet with the former Borg drone.

 

“I need to get a profile of your personality on record,” she explained, setting up the holoscanners to record his image and his responses to various questions and scenarios.

 

“For what?”  Noah asked, feeling a bit under the microscope.

 

“It’s a psychology project I’m working on,” she advised him.  “This device,” she affixed a small sensory node to his temple and his wrist, “records your physiological and neurological responses.  I’m going to put you through a series of holoscenarios, and I’ll be recording your reactions.  Try to be as natural as you can,” she added.

 

Noah laughed.  “Okay, Seven, but this is truly weird.  Is everyone else going through this?”

 

“Many other people,” Seven allowed.  “Once my study is complete, I’ll debrief you.”

 

“Well, I’m honored you selected me, I think,” he smiled at the scientific Borg.  “Let her rip.”

 

__________

 

Deanna Troi’s holographic counterpart did her best to keep her face impassive, though she felt like giving Kieran Thompson a tongue lashing.  She decided on a more subtle tactic.

 

“You keep saying what you think might happen if you forgive her, but you’re not addressing what will happen if you don’t forgive her,” Deanna pointed out, tapping a stylus against the palm of her hand thoughtfully.  “You’re trying so hard to protect yourself from losing her that you’ve let her go,” she stressed.

 

Kieran shook her head.  “I didn’t let her go, Dee.  She walked away.  Instead of trying to talk to me, instead of working through this with me, she took other lovers as fast as she could line them up.  What else can I do?  She’s made her choice.  She’s with someone else--or as I see it, she’s with several someone elses.  I don’t want to be disrespectful of that, not like Tom Paris was about me in her life,” Kieran explained bitterly.

 

Dee was nearly exasperated, but took a cleansing breath.  “I’ve known you a long time, KT,” she reminded the Lieutenant Commander, “or more accurately, my human counterpart has known you a long time.  I know you were engaged to be married when you joined the crew of Voyager, yet in all these years, you’ve never once talked about that relationship, or how hurt you were when the ship got lost and ended it effectively.  I know all about Robin Lefler, and all about P’Arth, and I know you’re carrying around scars from all of those relationships. Listen, just because B'Elanna took a male lover, like Robin did, doesn’t mean she can’t be faithful to you, if you try to work this out.  I think B’Elanna is correct.  You’re punishing her for things other women did to you.”

 

Kieran bristled defensively.  “She took a male lover because she needs that in her life.  And I’m just supposed to forget the fact that if I’d come into Sandrine’s ten minutes later, Tom Paris would have been in her pants, while we were together?”

 

Dee scowled.  “You don’t know that.  B’Elanna was also right when she said you have to decide if it’s worth it to take the risk and believe her when she says she will not leave you.  I’ve never known you to be a coward, Kieran,” Dee admonished her.  “I think a simple mistake shouldn’t be the reason you leave your marriage, and I think you have it in you to forgive her.  You know you love her, and you know that if you let this relationship end over this stupid little misunderstanding, you’ll regret it.”

 

“Hello,” Kieran snapped angrily, “it’s already ended.  Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?  I caught Tristan Garrett sneaking out of our quarters.  B’Elanna had been fucking him.  And I know she slept with, and bonded with Mariah Henley, so I guess she’s sleeping around on her, too, with Tristan.”

 

Dee ground her holographic teeth together.  Damn this confidentiality bullshit, anyway, she thought to herself.  B’Elanna had not bonded with Mariah Henley, and Dee knew it.  But she couldn’t tell Kieran.  “What makes you so sure?” she tiptoed around the ethical boundaries.

 

“Well, for starters, that big ole mating scar Henley’s sporting,” Kieran snarled sarcastically.  “I told you, I saw it when Henley came into my office.”

 

Dee smiled sweetly.  “Are you certain you know Klingon customs so well as you think?  Because I know that there are times when Klingons leave scars without claiming their partner.  The ritual claiming must accompany the wounding to signify the blood bond.  Maybe Henley was sporting nothing more than a severe hickey,” Dee tried to lighten the tone.

 

“You don’t know my wife,” Kieran insisted.  “She never shared any sort of blood lust with anyone but me, and if she expressed it with Henley, then it’s because things are serious with them.  And Tristan marked her, too, so maybe the three of them have something going.”

 

Dee sighed.  She had pushed the envelope of propriety, and Kieran was not persuaded.  “So you’re going to go through with it,” she stated with disgust.

 

Kieran nodded.  “I don’t want to hold her back, Dee.  I obviously can’t make her happy, and I can’t be with her.  Why not let her be happy in whatever way she can?”

 

“I still think you should talk to her, Kieran.  Ask her if she really wants a divorce before you blindside her with the paperwork.”

 

“I’m not blindsiding her.  I’m giving her the opportunity to rectify a huge mistake we made.  And there’s no arguing that she wants me, and only me, which is the kind of exclusivity I need.  I’m not going to deprive her of what she needs, and I’m not going to subject myself to the failure of knowing she is never going to be satisfied by me.  And it’s not just that she wants male lovers, it’s the degree and type of aggression she wants.  I can’t make myself practically rape my own wife, to fulfill her need to be objectified and manhandled.  It’s called manhandling for a reason.  Men are the ones who are best at it.”

 

Dee sighed.  “You’re sure about this?  You’re absolutely sure B'Elanna can’t be who you need her to be?”

 

“No, but I’m sure I can’t be who she needs me to be,” Kieran replied resolutely.

 

________________

 

Kieran Thompson checked her comm account for messages, and smiled because there was a new missive from Naomi Wildman.  She selected the message and opened it eagerly, letting the display unfold the text.

 

Dear Kieran: 

Just wanted to let you know I’m thinking about you today.  Let’s play Velocity soon.

 

I’m sorry if I’ve been distant.  It just feels awkward, knowing you and B'Elanna aren’t getting along, and knowing I can’t help either of you feel better.  I wish you’d tell me what really happened.  You know I would listen.  Thanks for talking to me the other day.  I feel a lot better now.  I love you, KT.  Please take care of yourself. 

Your friend,

Naomi Wildman

 

Kieran glanced at the rest of the messages, sighing.  Claren James had sent yet another note to her, pleading her case that they should try dating each other again, despite the fact that the two previous attempts had ended in a stalemate, at best.  Melora Paxson had also sent a note, asking Kieran to go to dinner.  Kieran had met Melora all of two times, and had no inclination to go on a blind date.  Dani Jessup was still trying to persuade Kieran to go out, and Kieran had no intention of following up on that.  Dani had wanted to be a patient of Kieran’s, but when she asked Kieran out the first time, Kieran had told her that they couldn’t date if Dani wanted to see Kieran in her capacity as Ship’s Counselor.   Dani had promptly cancelled her appointment, and that made Kieran angry.   

 

Kieran shook her head.  Being single had never bothered her before she was married, but now, she dreaded the tedium of dating, of trying to meet new people, of learning another human being all over again, especially when her relationships always ended so badly.  Well, they either end badly or they don’t mean anything to begin with, she decided. 

 

She recalled Naomi’s message and sent a reply that said:

 

Dear Naomi:

Your note was very sweet, and very much appreciated.  Velocity would be great.  Would you please check my schedule and set up a court time? 

 

I’m sorry if my situation with B'Elanna is awkward for you.  Please know I would never want you to feel like you have to take sides.  Someday, I’ll tell you everything that happened.  Right now, it’s just too hard.  And in all fairness, if I do tell you, it will only be my side of the story, my perspective.  Keep that in mind, and take anything I say with a grain of salt, because that’s the most fair thing.

 

I do know you would listen, sweetie.  Thanks for always being my friend.

I love you.  And I promise, I will take care of myself, just because you loved me enough to ask.

Yours,

Kieran 

 

Kieran smiled as she punched the ‘send’ key.  Naomi was a guaranteed smile.  Her personal ray of sunshine, in the middle of a nasty, raging storm.  Kieran felt exceedingly lucky to have such a good friend.

 

______________

 

Harry Kim finally emerged from isolation, intent upon finding out what was going on.  His performance had been so poor that Captain Janeway had placed him back on leave, and he had been out of the loop for several weeks.  Kieran had been counseling him frequently since the incident at Restid Three, and had finally reduced his visits to once every two weeks, but when he had tried to schedule his next appointment, there was an automated message that requested his identification, advised him his appointment would need to be rescheduled, and that further details were being routed to his comm account.  When he checked the ‘further details’, he had been informed that Kieran Thompson was on a leave of absence until further notice.  He had passed it off at the time, but the next time he tried to schedule, the same thing happened.  Now, suddenly, he was able to make an appointment.

 

Harry considered briefly that he hadn’t seen Kieran around for several weeks, or B'Elanna for that matter.  He had withdrawn into his own little cocoon, expecting Kieran to come and draw him out, as she had in the past.  But this time, she hadn’t come.   I’ve been spending too much time in my quarters.  I have to start thinking about getting back into Command School.  I have to get my shit together, or I’m—I’m going to end up like Tom, only worse: at least his obsession is about a real person he was in love with once.  Mine is just some figment of my imagination, he realized with self-loathing. 

 

He walked along the corridor, thinking about the upcoming party on the holodeck that he had rudely told Neelix was a waste of time, and reconsidered attending.  His step was a tad lighter as he decided to go, if he could persuade B'Elanna and Kieran to go with him.  He smiled faintly, tapped his comm badge, and hailed B'Elanna.

 

“Torres here,” came the reply.  “How the hell are you, Harry?”

 

“I’m—pretty good,” he decided just that second.  “Are you going to the Spring Fling at the end of the month?”

 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she answered.

 

“Can I tag along with you and Kieran?  I haven’t seen you guys in ages,” he added hopefully.

 

A long silence hung in the air.

 

“B'Elanna?  Is something wrong?  I didn’t mean to intrude—” he started to apologize.

 

“No, it’s not that, Harry.  It’s just—didn’t you hear?”

 

“I guess not.  Hear what?” he asked, still walking briskly.

 

“Can you stop by my quarters?” B'Elanna asked, not wanting to tell him over a hailing frequency.  She knew that her relationship with Kieran was sort of an icon to Harry, and she knew he would take it hard.

 

“Sure.  I’m on my way.  Kim out,” he tapped his badge again, perplexed. 

 

When he burst through her door in the most energetic display she had seen from him since Restid Three, B'Elanna felt her heart lurch in her chest.

 

“What’s going on?  Aren’t you both going to the party?” he asked excitedly.

 

“Starfleet, what rock have you been living under?” she asked, handing him an iced tea.  “Kieran and I are getting divorced.”

 

Harry’s jaw dropped.  “That’s not funny, Maquis,” he sat the glass on the breakfast bar.

 

B'Elanna sat down on a barstool.  “I’m not kidding, Harry.”

 

Harry’s jaw dropped again.  “But—you—I just saw you a few weeks ago—what—how the hell—I’m going to fucking kill Tom Paris,” he vowed darkly, turning to go do that very thing.

 

B'Elanna grabbed his arm. “Don’t, Harry.  It’s not Tom’s fault.  Well, not entirely.”

 

She unloaded the entire ugly story, leaving out none of the details.  Poor Harry wrung his hands throughout the tale, mist gathering in his eyes.  “Oh my God, B'Elanna, I can’t believe it.  You guys?  No way I’d have ever thought you two would split up.  I still ought to kill Tom.  Damn, this is my fault.  I knew what that slimy bastard was up to, and I should have warned you.  But I was too caught up in my own futile bullshit to think about anyone but me, always me,” he pounded the heel of his hand into his forehead.  “If I had told you, you would never have started hanging out with him again.”

 

“Hey,” B'Elanna forestalled the physical punishment by taking his hand.  “Stop, Harry.  This is my fault, not yours.  I fucked this up all by myself.”

 

Harry looked almost as miserable as when Kieran told him that Seriah Kim did not exist.  “Kieran wasn’t even seeing clients,” he murmured, “up until recently.  You’d think that would have clued me in that something was wrong, but I was just oblivious,” he lashed out at himself.

 

“I’ve taken some time off work, too,” B'Elanna admitted.  “But I had to cut it shorter than Kieran.  No amount of free time would heal this, anyway.  And I’m going to start dating again,” she said aloud for reinforcement. “I don’t know what the hell else to do.”

 

Harry shook his head.  “Damn, B'Elanna, it sounds like you still love her.  Why don’t you tell her so, try to fix things?”

 

B'Elanna gulped down the iced tea Harry hadn’t touched.  “She’s the one that called it quits,” she pointed out.

 

“In response to an ultimatum,” he argued.  “It sounds to me like this has just escalated out of control.  You’ve made your mind up that she doesn’t want you, but never once have you said that you don’t want her,” he pointed out correctly.

 

B'Elanna swallowed hard.  “I do want her.  I still love her.  I don’t want this divorce.  She sent the decree to me, not the other way around,” she went to her workstation, punching up the notice.  “See?”

 

Harry glanced over the legalese, then read the note that Kieran had sent with it.  “What’s this mean?”

 

“Which part?” B'Elanna asked, following where he pointed.

 

“Kieran’s note—she says ‘It’s obvious you’ve moved on.’  What is she talking about?”

 

“Hell if I know, Starfleet.  Maybe she thinks I’ve taken up with Tom,” B'Elanna speculated.  She discreetly omitted telling him that Kieran had practically caught her in bed with Tristan Garrett, and had certainly known B'Elanna was sleeping with someone new, though she didn’t know who.

 

“She should know that’s not true—if it were, it would be the talk of the ship,” Harry puzzled over it.

 

“What difference does it make?  She asked for a divorce, I’m giving it to her.”

 

“Then why haven’t you signed it?” Harry asked softly.

 

B'Elanna scowled.  “I just haven’t, that’s all.”

 

Harry took a drink of the iced tea, thinking.  “What if she knows about Mariah Henley?”

 

“What is there to know?  We had a one night stand, end of story,” B'Elanna thought he was grasping at straws.

 

“You said Mariah kept the mark you put on her.  Isn’t that really significant to a Klingon?  Isn’t that about the same as taking the Oath?”

 

“I never claimed her.  The two rituals go together,” B'Elanna argued.

 

“Would Kieran know that?” he asked.

 

“You’re reaching Starfleet.  Kieran doesn’t know about Mariah, I’m sure of it.  I agree that her saying I’ve moved on is odd, but who knows what she’s thinking.  My bet is that she figures Tom and I are back together.”

 

“If you say so, Maquis,” he gave in.

 

___________________

 

Kieran Thompson had returned to work after three weeks off, more determined than ever to finish up her bridge time and her studies so she could take her final exam.  Chakotay had advised her that the simulation was finally programmed, and she could test with 48 hours notice.  He gave her the briefing that was part of the simulated mission, and told her to select her away team for it.

 

Command Track Final Exam Mission Specifications:

 

You and your away team must escort Admiral Janeway to talks on Rettia Major, where the Admiral must negotiate the entrance of Rettia to the Federation. Rettia Major has vast supplies of minerals important to the Federation, and as part of Rettia’s membership, Admiral Janeway must negotiate mining rights for various Federation members.  You must select an appropriate team to escort the Admiral.  You must limit your choices to four officers and two security crewmen.  Your choices must be submitted to the examination committee 48 hours in advance of the exam.  You may not select the following crewmembers: Seven of Nine, Commander Chakotay, Harry Kim, the EMH.

 

Besides the cryptic mission description, there was an appendix with some of the history and sociology of Rettia Major, a map of the capital city, diagrams of the mines and the mining camps, and a photo compendium of the anatomical characteristics of the Rettians, styles of dress they favored, and some of the better known highlights of the planet’s geological features. 

 

It didn’t sound like much of a mission, Kieran decided, not considering all the rumors and speculation she had been hearing over the past several months.  It seemed fairly simple,  which made her suspicious.  She decided to put Tuvok on her team, since he was always level headed in a crisis, and had the intelligence background that might be needed to discern any problems.  She also would have selected Seven, if she had been available, but for some reason, Kieran was not allowed to choose her.  Kieran supposed it was because Seven was not a Starfleet officer.  Harry was clearly not an option because he would eventually take the same exam, someday.  The Doctor was required to monitor the vital signs of the simulation participants, so he could not be part of her team.  And Chakotay was the exam proctor, so that excluded him from participating. 

 

I have to take Noah, of course.  He’s a solid science officer, and has the versatility to fill in on various levels.   His outdoorsman skills might come in handy, too, not to mention his brute strength.  I’d select Rachel, but that might not be the greatest idea, considering her history with Noah.  But then, a CO has to pick the most qualified people, regardless of personal feelings.  Which means I have to pick B'Elanna, too.  Kieran sighed.  B'Elanna had still not signed the divorce decree, and Kieran thought it was extremely rude of her to delay, considering she was already bonded with Mariah Henley.  What was the point of putting it off?  Kieran figured it was just some power trip B'Elanna was on, withholding her consent to lord her control of the situation over Kieran. 

 

I’ll have to talk to her, of course.  We have to get this settled.  And I want to ask her to be on my away team for my exam.  She’ll probably decline, but I owe it to myself to have the best people.  Besides, it seems fitting that she would be there for my final, since she lived through so much of my preparing for it. 

 

Kieran peered wistfully out of the slender, rectangular porthole of her office.  Sending B'Elanna that divorce decree had been the single most difficult thing she had ever done.  It was also the most selfless act she could have performed, letting go of the woman she loved when all she wanted was to repair the rift between them.  It was too late for that, now.  B'Elanna belonged to someone else.  And it was clear that B’Elanna did, in fact, want sexual liaisons with men, as evidenced by Tristan Garret.   Kieran swallowed the desire to cry, and forced herself to think about what was next for her.  Chakotay had asked for his leave of absence, and Captain Janeway had agreed that as soon as Kieran’s exams were completed and her promotion bestowed, Kieran could fill in during the deserving First Officer’s furlough.  It seemed a hollow victory, this promotion.  It was something she had intended to share with B'Elanna.

 

Kieran propped her legs up on her desk, her boots thudding against the surface.  She leaned back in her chair, watching the star field going by.  Maybe Robin Lefler had deserved that second chance, all those years ago.  Maybe she really did learn from her errors, and maybe it would have worked.  Kieran would never know, because her fear had won out over her love.  Well, fear and her humiliation.  She closed her eyes, thinking back to that night in the hallway of the hotel, how hurt Robin had been, and how afraid Kieran had been.  Afraid to send Robin away again, afraid to let her come back, afraid to believe anything.  She had chosen the safest path.  And it had always seemed like the right decision, because that very night, she had become engaged to someone who would never have hurt her, someone who loved her completely, exclusively, and had given up a full life to spend Kieran’s with her.  And then Voyager had been lost, and all those dreams ended.  Even now, she couldn’t bear to say her name, couldn’t stand the thought of her eyes, those gorgeous, sea-foam green eyes that had filled with passion every time they made love.  By the time Voyager had contact with the Alpha Quadrant and Kieran had tracked her former fiancée down, Kieran was engaged to B'Elanna, and all she could do was apologize to her former lover for not waiting.  It had been six years, after all, and there didn’t seem to be any chance that Kieran would ever see the woman again.

 

Now her marriage was in shambles, and she was left with nothing but her fear and self-loathing.  And her love for B’Elanna, imperfect and raw, as immovable and obvious as a granite mountain.  It weighed on her, suffocating and tedious, stubborn and intractable.   No amount of time or distance seemed to diminish or dull it.

 

______________

 

Noah Lessing contoured his muscular body against the backside of Kieran Thompson’s, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing.  The darkness itself seemed gentle with the exquisite softness of her skin brushing against his.  He was bludgeoned in these moments with the awareness of his emotion.  Sometimes, it was nearly impossible to fall asleep for the nearness of her.  His chest ached with tenderness when she slept beside him, so powerful was the urge to be with her. 

 

Sometimes, they were so close, it was almost as intimate as making love.  Almost.  Noah banished the thought, but not before his body reacted with the tingling sensation in his groin that left him wishing for so much more.  He hugged her closer, face nuzzling her neck and shoulder, the want so sharp that his eyes closed inadvertently. 

 

Somehow, the subject of Kieran’s getting her own quarters had fallen by the wayside.  They had been living together for several weeks, and Kieran had shown no inclination to reconcile with B’Elanna.  Perhaps he had read too much into that.  Maybe it was futile to attach significance to such a faint indication, but he was lost and grasping for any sense of meaning or direction.  Noah had always considered himself an atheist, but in the vastness of his need and in the desperation of his love, he actually prayed for Kieran to love him the way he loved her.  

 

He knew in his heart that she loved him.  He knew that she always would.  But he wanted so much more from her, and he cried inwardly to anyone that would listen to help her heart heal, and in its rebirth, to let it discover him waiting for her and find him worthy.  If only she would let him cross that boundary between the platonic and the sexual. 

 

He lay awake some nights for hours, willing the images away, and failing.  He imagined the feeling of her lips on his, the heat of her embrace, the surging passion he would feel entering her.  He thought of how simple it would be, to pull her into his arms while she was sleeping, to kiss her awake, to coax her into making love with him.  He went through the painful exercise of gathering his courage repeatedly, but he knew beyond a doubt that she could not be what he wanted her to be.  He tortured himself with the visions of what he knew would never be, unspoken longings and frustrated desires that would punish him with their flagrant eroticism, and all he could do was release the fantasy through furtive solitary efforts in the shower.

 

If Kieran had had any idea what she was putting him through, she would have properly and apologetically moved out.  If she caught him gazing at her lingeringly, the sentiment behind the haunted eyes never registered in her mind.  She had no conception of the sadness lying beneath the façade of friendship, no inkling of his truest feelings.

 

Every night, he resolved to tell her, to plead his case convincingly and persuade her that there was enough between them to overcome her hesitation, her misgivings, her sexual preference.  And every morning, his resolve trickled away as soon as they were showered and dressed.  Kieran Thompson was a prize he could never aspire to.  She might overlook his checkered past, forgive his shortcomings, ignore his crimes; but she could not get beyond his anatomy.

 

Kieran Thompson was a lesbian.  And Noah Lessing loved her with all his being.  And there was no middle ground to meet upon.

 

_______________

 

Noah had tried for three days to talk Kieran out of going to the Spring Fling, but the Counselor was insistent about attending, saying that she had to show the crew that this obstacle of having her marriage fall apart hadn’t beaten her, not completely.  Noah knew good and well that B'Elanna and Rachel were going to be there together, and he wanted to spare Kieran the heartache of seeing her ex-wife with another woman.  He finally told her the truth about why he didn’t want to go.

 

“KT,” he grasped her shoulders, making her listen.  “I don’t think you want to go to this party.  B'Elanna is going to be there,” he explained.

 

“I’ve seen her in staff meetings, Noah.  I can’t avoid her socially forever,” Kieran touched his face gently.  “I appreciate you’re trying to protect me, bud.”

 

“She’s not going to be there alone,” he finally told her.  “She has a date.”

 

Kieran nodded.  “Right, Mariah Henley.  Or Tristan Garrett.  Or whoever else she’s fucking at the moment. I can handle it.”

 

Noah hesitated to break the news, put pressed on.  “No, not Mariah.  Not Tristan.  Rachel.”

 

Kieran was stung by that.  “Rachel?  Rachel’s going out with my wife?”

 

Noah shrugged.  “She told me B'Elanna asked her to go.”

 

Kieran rested her forehead on Noah’s chest.  “God, I’m sick of trying to figure out what’s going on with her.  I can’t do it, bud.  I have to stop thinking about her.  I have to quit thinking she’s going to be someone other than who she is,  and I have to forget this whole thing.  Hell, maybe I need to date somebody,” she declared, eyes fiery.  “Except you’re the only person I can stand to be around right now,” she chuckled softly, fury abated.

 

Noah grinned nervously, suddenly conscious of the butterflies in his stomach.  “Then date me, KT.”

 

Kieran laughed at him.  “Oh, yeah, that’d do wonders for your prospects,”  she snorted, not realizing he was serious.  “Do you want to be celibate all summer?” 

 

Noah threw back his head and laughed, treating the subject as a joke when his courage failed him.  “What, do you think there’s a long line of honeys just waiting for my time and attention?  I haven’t had a single offer since Rachel left.  You, on the other hand, get at least one proposition a day.  How many this week, KT?  How many sweet little notes, asking how you’re doing, faking concern over your sorrow, and closing with a hint at wanting to date you?” he teased her, rubbing her shoulders.

 

Kieran smirked.  “Six, this week.  But there are a lot of repeat offenders, and I’m not really counting,” she added hastily.

 

He howled with laughter.  “Oh, no, you’re not counting,” he mocked her.

 

“Okay, Mr. Lessing, I’ll go to the dance with you.  But don’t blame me when the women on this ship decide you only like women who are not into you,” she joked.

_____________________

 

Noah and Kieran arrived late to the party, but the din of the large group quieted noticeably when they walked into the holodeck.  Neither was certain if the crowd hushed because they came in together or if they were just surprised to see Kieran out and about at all.  She had been back at work over a month, but she kept strictly to herself in her off hours, other than the time she spent with her daughter and Noah.

 

The holodeck was programmed to include a steel drum band, playing on a sunny late afternoon.  The theme was Spring, and most everyone was wearing colorful flowered shirts and shorts.  There was an open bar, an area with long serving tables covered with heaping trays of fresh fruit, and in the distance, a beach.

 

“Jamaica,” Noah noted as they walked in.  “Not a bad representation, either,” he commented.

 

Kieran took his arm.  “Are you sure you don’t want to do this party stag, bud?” she asked again.  “I see a lot of scantily dressed women,” she waggled her eyebrows.

 

“There’s nobody I’d rather be with,” he replied, smiling brightly over at her.  “But if hanging with me is going to hold you back from—”

 

“No. Let’s go say hi to Kathryn and Seven,” she cut him off.  “I’m not ready to stick my toes back in the water, just yet,” she tugged at his hand.

 

Kathryn pulled out a chair for Kieran, smiling at them both.  “Kato, I love your hair.  It suits you,” she enthused, touching the spiked strands in wonder. “I know you’ve been wearing it this way for awhile, but every time I see you, it’s just such a surprise,” she continued to feel the stiff mane.  “Mr. Lessing, when I told you to take care of Kieran, I had no idea you’d do such a splendid job.  Thank you.”

 

Noah dipped his head.  “My pleasure, Captain.  She’s the best assignment I could ask for,” he said sincerely, a look of pure adoration on his face.

 

Kieran was the only one who didn’t notice.  She surveyed the beach dance floor, watching the crew churning to the music.  “Everyone looks like they’re up for this party,” she noted.  Her gaze came to rest on B'Elanna, who was moving in counter rhythm to Rachel McVicker.  “B'Elanna looks especially happy,” she commented.  She struggled to control the longing that sprang up at the sight of her wife, but was surprised that there was no jealousy.  It was more a sensation of pure envy as Rachel touched B’Elanna.  Envy and confusion.  If B’Elanna was bonded with Henley, why was she dating Rachel?  Was B’Elanna’s relationship with Henley an open one?   Kieran swallowed hard and forced herself to look away.

 

Seven lay her hand on Kieran’s.  “B'Elanna is not happy,” she informed the Counselor.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that.  Maybe once the divorce is final, she’ll cheer up,” Kieran replied with a bitter edge to her voice.

 

“No, that won’t help,” Seven insisted.  “B’Elanna loves you, Kieran.  She hasn’t signed the divorce decree because she doesn’t want a divorce,” she squeezed Kieran’s hand to emphasize the point.

 

Kieran shrugged.  “She looks like she’s forgotten me, completely, if you ask me,” she nodded in B’Elanna’s direction, where she and Rachel McVicker were dancing intimately, intermittently kissing each other.

 

“Oh, B'Elanna,” Seven said under her breath, “you really need to learn to pick your moments.”

 

Before the former Borg could explain exactly why B'Elanna was kissing another woman, Neelix came around with fruit punch for everyone, and party favors of flower necklaces.

 

“I think Mr. Neelix got Hawaii and Jamaica confused,” Kathryn noted, grinning wryly but putting on the lei.

 

Kieran gave hers to Noah, slipping it over his head and draping it over his shoulders.  She kissed him briefly as she did so, thinking that was the appropriate presentation.

 

Noah leaned into her kiss, memorizing the all too brief sensation ghosting over his lips.   “Making up a new ritual?” he teased gently when she pulled away.

 

Kieran pouted.  “Isn’t that how you give somebody a lei?” she asked.

 

Noah waggled his eyebrows.  “Not to my knowledge.  I can show you the proper way to give a lay, if you need a lesson.”

 

“Not THAT kind of lay, you ass,” she shoved him playfully.

 

“I think you kiss each cheek,” he replied, “not the lips,” he explained, though he wished she would do it again.

 

“So sue me,” Kieran laughed, shoving a chunk of pineapple in his mouth.  “That ought to shut you up,” she stated triumphantly.

 

Seven quirked an eyebrow.  “You act like a married couple,” she observed, wondering what sort of chemistry was at work between the two friends.

 

Noah grinned.  “Oh, yeah, and Kieran has a little bun in the oven, too,” he taunted, chewing the juicy chunk of fruit.

 

“Bun in the oven?” Seven asked.  “Are you being obscene, Noah?”

 

Kathryn patted her hand.  “No, he’s being a wise-ass.  He’s been around Kato way too long, apparently.  ‘Bun in the oven’ is a euphemism for being pregnant.”

 

“You’re pregnant?” Seven demanded, getting excited.  “Kieran, that’s wonderful,” she enthused, kissing Kieran’s cheek.

 

“I am not pregnant,” Kieran advised her, “unless there’s a star rising in the east and there are three guys headed this way on camels,” she added.  “And I’m not even sure I’d qualify as a virgin.”

 

Seven gave her an enigmatic grin.  “Stars and camels?”

 

“Good lord, Kat, haven’t you told her anything about Earth religions?” Kieran asked impatiently.

 

“I see I’ve been—remiss,” Kathryn allowed.  “I’ll be sure and tell her all about them, Counselor.”

 

“Thank you.  I hate having to explain my jokes,” she bitched.

 

Noah speared another chunk of pineapple, sticking it in Kieran’s mouth.  “If you have to explain them, they aren’t funny,” he stated, emphasizing it by shoving the fruit between her lips.

 

She spat it out in a napkin.

 

“You don’t like pineapple?” he sounded offended.

 

“I’m not allowed to eat citric acid,” she reminded him.  “Doctor Killjoy’s orders.”

 

Kathryn grinned.  “I like that.  We should try to sell him on that name,” she raised her glass of fruit punch in tribute to the EMH, who had yet to settle on a name for himself.  “How is your stomach, Kato?”

 

“Better.  I’m telling you though, when I saw that bite wound on Mariah Henley, I thought I’d never stop puking,” she said distastefully.

 

Kathryn’s eyes widened.  “You found out about that?”

 

Kieran nodded, sipping a glass of herbal tea she had snagged from a holographic waiter.  “Mariah came to my office, wanting an appointment, back when I was on medical leave.   I just happened to be there for about five minutes, and so I talked to her about seeing Dee.  While we were talking, I saw the mark.  B'Elanna is the only Klingon on Voyager, so it wasn’t a big deductive leap,” she grinned ruefully.  “That’s why I sent her the divorce decree.  No reason to stand in their way.  Hey, Ensign,” she grabbed Noah’s flowered shirt at the collar, “wanna dance with me?”

 

He stood up, pulling her with him.  “Sure,” he took her hand, leading her out to the dance floor.

 

Seven of Nine was left with the protest dying on her lips.  “Kathryn—”

 

“I know,” Kathryn held up her hand.  “Kieran is under the wrong impression.  But does it really matter now?  The damage is done.  B'Elanna slept with Mariah, and Kieran isn’t going to forgive her for that.  Or that,” she said with disgust, inclining her head toward the Klingon, who was still dancing with Rachel McVicker.  The two women were kissing intermittently, teasing, but suggestive at the same time.  Kieran’s gaze was fixed on them as she led Noah onto the dance floor.

 

Seven nodded.  “That’s not all,” she leaned closer, whispering to her wife.  “Kieran saw Tristan Garrett leaving B'Elanna’s quarters, right after B'Elanna had come to the door with a bleeding bite wound.”

 

“Jesus,” Kathryn breathed, “you’re kidding me.  Kieran was afraid B'Elanna still had a thing for men, and I told her she was wrong.  I guess she knew better than I did.”

 

Seven nodded.  “Apparently.  And B'Elanna is my best friend but has never said a word to me about Tristan.  I believe she is in denial, to me and to herself.”

 

Kathryn shrugged.  “Or maybe she’s just ashamed.  I would be.”

 

_____________

 

The rhythm of the steel drums pulsed through the holodeck, and Kieran smiled as she realized that island music had no minor chords.  All the chords were major, happy sounding chords.  The music just had to make you smile.

 

Noah peered down at her, smiling back.  “You look cheerful,” he commented, swinging his hips with one arm in the air and the other slung across his waist.

 

“I love steel drums,” Kieran replied.  “And you look adorable in flowers,” she grinned at him.  “I’ve noticed some of the gals checking you out,” she added.

 

Noah rolled his eyes.  “They were probably looking at you, KT.  Turquoise is a good color on you,” he advised her appreciatively, touching the collar of her flowered shirt.

 

“Thanks.  But they’re probably watching you dance.  You’re really good,” she tried to mirror his movement.

 

“No,” he stopped her.  “Put your hand on your tummy, and swing your hips,” he showed her how to move.

 

“Oh, I get it,” she watched herself intently.  “Like this?”

 

“Yeah. But swing your hips more,  make it fluid.  Forget you have bones,” he demonstrated, looking smooth and graceful.

 

Pretty soon, a crowd was gathered around them, and Noah was showing the whole crew how to island dance.  “Okay everybody, now let’s hear you say Day-O!” he called out, laughing.

 

Everyone was giggling self-consciously and trying to mimic the fluid motion that Noah had mastered.  Kieran was having a ball watching him, surrounded by undulating women and men.  His stark white teeth flashed in the bright lights, contrasted against his dark skin.  She realized with surprised pleasure just how handsome he really was, with a square jaw, closely cropped hair, eyes that were nearly coal black, and a muscular build.  Kieran had always known he was a good-looking young man, but it had been an intellectual realization, not an emotional one.  Seeing him in his element this way, she just felt his goodness and his beauty.  She didn’t know she was looking at him with a sappy expression, tender and fond and proud all at the same time. She also did not notice that B'Elanna stole up beside her.

 

“He’s something else, BangwIj,” she murmured at Kieran’s side, slipping her arm through Kieran’s.  “You look lovely,” she told her wife.

 

Kieran swallowed hard, her senses assaulted by the scent of B'Elanna’s skin and the warmth of B’Elanna’s body pressed against her own.  “Thanks, Lanna,” Kieran kissed her cheek.  “I’ve wanted to tell you that I wish you and Mariah the best.  I ran into her several weeks ago,” she explained, heart thundering in her chest.  She was determined to accept the inevitable, and wanted to show B'Elanna that she could put aside her own devastation and be civil. 

 

B'Elanna gave her a puzzled look.  “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but there is no ‘Mariah and me’,” she contended.

 

“But I saw--but you claimed her,” Kieran argued, bewildered.  Her heart started to pound in her ears, as it occurred to her that she had made a terrible assumption.

 

“I’ve never claimed anyone in my life but you,” B’Elanna assured her, squeezing her arm.  “Whatever you saw, or whatever you heard, you’re the only one,” she repeated.  “I’m sorry if you thought otherwise.”

 

Kieran regarded her with no small amount of confusion.  “That’s why I sent you the divorce decree,” she explained, chest aching.  “I thought you had bonded with her.”

 

B’Elanna shook her head. 

 

Rachel came looking for B'Elanna just then.  “Hi, you guys.  Oh lord, Noah’s putting on a clinic,” she grinned at him.  “Good, isn’t he?”

 

“Yeah, he’s my boy,” Kieran agreed proudly, turning back to watch him.  “He’s got amazing grace,” she smiled as his body flowed through the motions, fluid and muscular and handsome.  She deliberately kept her eyes averted from B’Elanna, convinced that she understood the situation again.  B’Elanna was with Rachel, not Mariah.  Either way, it didn’t matter.  Kieran and B’Elanna would never be together again--not after Tristan Garrett.

 

B’Elanna was taken aback by the  implications of Kieran’s words.  She sent the divorce decree because she thought I was bonded with someone else.  It was just a misunderstanding. She stared intently at her wife, whose gaze never left Noah Lessing.  B’Elanna imagined Kieran was quite taken with the handsome Ensign, when in fact, Kieran was trying to look anywhere but at B’Elanna.  Kahless in a boat to Sto’Vo’Kor, she used to look at me like that.  Is she in love with him?  That would explain why she’s so indignant about Tom Paris--it’s a little too close to home.  I never really believed that she might have found someone else, and certainly not a man.  But look at her, watching him--it’s so clear.  How did I miss it?

 

Noah reached out and grabbed Kieran’s hand, pulling her back into the undulating mass.  “C’mon, Counselor,” he called out above the music.  “Show us what you’ve got.” 

 

She stepped into his arms and smiled at him, matching his motion and rhythm.  They looked so natural together, so synchronous, that B’Elanna’s impression was reinforced.  And why shouldn’t Kieran love Noah?  They had sports in common, and he was human, not Klingon.  Noah adored kids, and he would make a wonderful father.  And, B’Elanna realized on a visceral level, Noah Lessing was gorgeous, all strength and muscle and humor and dignity.  His skin was darker than B’Elanna’s, though not truly black, and his teeth were straight and strong, flashing white when he smiled.  He had a firm jaw, an aquiline nose, and handsomely sculpted cheek bones.  Noah was perfection.  How could any woman, gay or straight, not appreciate that?

 

Rachel slipped her hand into B’Elanna’s and leaned closer.  “Looks like the four of us should have just swapped partners,” she tried for a little levity.

 

B’Elanna flinched.  “Do you really think they’re…?” she murmured, still watching her wife dancing with the strapping Ensign.

 

Rachel nodded.  “I know Noah has loved Kieran forever.  I think she fixed me up with him to distract him from it, in fact,” Rachel opined.  “Looks like he finally ‘got the girl’, and this time, it’s the one he wanted.  Who knows,” she pressed tighter against her date, “maybe she wasn’t just trying to distract him--maybe I was a safe place for Noah to be so she didn’t have to deal with her attraction to him,” Rachel speculated.  She watched the effect her words had on B’Elanna, whose face darkened with the thought that Kieran might have had feelings for Noah, all along.

 

B’Elanna lingered awhile longer, but finally forced herself to turn away.  “Want to go walk on the beach?” she asked her companion.

 

Rachel wanted to say yes, but felt it was important to stay at the party, just so B’Elanna would have to finally admit that her marriage was over.  If she had to see Kieran with Noah, so be it.  “In a little while.  I’d really like to dance with you some more, though,” she smiled invitingly, slipping her arms around the Klingon’s waist.

 

“Okay, but I’m holding you to a moonlight walk,” B’Elanna decided, kissing Rachel briefly.

_________________

 

Naomi Wildman joined a long line of crewmembers trying to learn to island dance, quickly memorizing the motions and the rhythm, trying to ignore the onlookers who were blatantly interested in her particular movements.  She grinned ruefully as she realized the one person she wanted to notice her hadn’t, as was customary.  Kieran Thompson was preoccupied with trying to make her own body do her bidding, oblivious to the fact that only a few feet away,  the young Ktarian was looking particularly attractive in a summer dress, that her hair was curled to perfection, and that she had mastered the dance with her usual grace and athleticism.  Naomi danced amid uncoupled members of the crew, although the cadence of her hips was drawing unwanted attention.  She finally saw that Kieran was leaving the dance floor, and decided when subtlety failed, a more direct approach was warranted.

 

Kieran danced for awhile with Noah, then excused herself to find a cold drink.  The heat coming from the mass of bodies on the beach dance floor was overwhelming, and she needed to recharge.  As she walked away, Naomi Wildman peeled off from the group, following her.  Naomi sauntered up beside the Counselor, slipping an arm around her waist.

 

“Well, hi there,” Kieran smiled broadly, sliding her arm around Naomi’s shoulders.  “You look incredible,” she praised her stunning friend.  “That’s a lovely dress.”

 

Naomi wore a sundress with thin straps, made of a bright yellow fabric with small blue hydrangea flowers printed on the cloth.  Her hair was tied back loosely, and it fell softly around her face.  “Thanks,” Naomi blushed.  “I think it’s a hit with the crew,” she inclined her head toward a group of male crewmen, ogling her.

 

“I’d say,” Kieran turned to scowl at them, keeping her face out of Naomi’s line of vision.  They recoiled into their drinks immediately.  “Are you having fun?”

 

Naomi squeezed her fondly.  “Now I am,” she reported, smiling shyly up at her companion.  “Will you save me a dance?”

 

“Always.  Want to come with me?  I’m on a quest for beverages,” she tried to sound like a great adventurer.

 

“Always,” Naomi agreed.

 

The two women found a pitcher of herbal tea, poured large tumblers for themselves, and sat down together to chat.  “Na,” Kieran began, “I just can’t get over how pretty you look,” she said warmly.  “How are you handling all the attention?” she grinned, noting that several interested crewmembers had subtly moved in Naomi’s general direction, watching for an opening to ask her to dance.

 

Naomi scowled playfully.  “Not well, apparently,” she admitted.  “It feels strange.  But I suppose I should be flattered.  Seven says so, anyway.”

 

Kieran raised her glass.  “Her Borgness should know—everyone ogles her, too,” she laughed.

 

“Speaking of ogling,” Naomi leaned across the table, “Claren James is giving you the once over.  I give her about twelve nanoseconds before she comes to hit on you,” she snickered.

 

Sure enough, Claren was making her way toward the taller Counselor, her close-cropped auburn hair perfectly in place, her multicolored shirt dazzling.

 

“Really?  And what should I tell her?” Kieran winked at Naomi.

 

“KT,” Naomi said softly, “she is gorgeous.  Have you seen those muscles?  I may have to take up martial arts, so I can have bulging biceps and washboard abs,” she nodded appreciatively at the approaching woman.

 

Kieran smirked.  “Honey, Claren may turn heads, but so do you,” she assured her friend.  “There’s something to be said for a softer, more feminine physique,” she added, taking Naomi’s hand and squeezing it.

 

Claren stood politely, waiting for the two women to acknowledge her.

 

“Hi, Claren,” Naomi spoke up first.  “Pretty blouse,” she complimented her.

 

“Thanks.  Hi you guys,” she swallowed her nervousness.  “KT, would you dance with me?”

 

Kieran shrugged.  “I suppose so.  If you’ll excuse me, Naomi?” she asked sincerely.

 

Naomi nodded, trying to hide her disappointment at losing her companion.  “Have fun,” she winked at Kieran.

 

The two women assumed the dance posture, Claren holding Kieran’s hands.  “How come you’ve been ignoring my comm messages, KT?” she asked teasingly.

 

“CJ,” Kieran grinned, “don’t you think we’ve done this to death?” she chuckled.

 

Claren smiled winningly, her full cheeks warming.  “Maybe third time’s a charm,” she pointed out, trying to sound persuasive, pulling Kieran close. 

 

They danced cheek to cheek, the heat from Claren’s body suddenly familiar, inviting.  Kieran had to admit, the prospect was tempting.  Claren was not only beautiful, she was an amazing lover, and Kieran had many provocative memories of the months they dated.

 

“After all, I think you owe me another chance,” Claren continued.  “You dumped me first, and when you wanted a second chance, I said yes.  I dumped you, the second time, and I might add, that was probably the dumbest thing I ever did.  So I’m asking you to return the favor—let me have the second chance I was willing to give you,” she argued.

 

Kieran slid her arms around Claren’s back, impressed as always with her chiseled physique.  The strength and power of it belied the gentleness the woman was capable of.  She was cat-like in a duel in the dojo, wiry and slippery, and she was equally fluid and graceful in her lovemaking.  Kieran had to force herself not to dwell on the memory of the fiery relationship they had shared, not once, but twice.

 

Claren pressed her face intimately against Kieran’s saying quietly, “Come on, KT.  We had a lot of fun.  You remember, don’t you?” her tone was suggestive, the words uttered softly against Kieran’s ear.

 

Kieran arched into her involuntarily, almost gasping.  “We did,” she agreed, her voice dropping an octave.

 

“I think our timing just wasn’t very good,” Claren contended.  “Let’s try again,” she kissed Kieran’s cheek, exhaling provocatively.

 

“CJ,” Kieran said softly, body tingling and willing, “I have missed you,” she confessed.  “And we had some incredible nights, but—”

 

Claren tightened her grip on Kieran’s body, moving intimately against her.  “But what?  Kieran, we were kids, the first time,” she emphasized.  “And the second time, we were scared shitless by how intense everything was between us.  We’re different, now, older.  Damn, KT, you have a kid,” she marveled.  “You can’t get much more grown up than that.  Don’t you think?”

 

Kieran laughed hollowly, wishing her body would obey, but feeling the familiar ache asserting itself.  She stepped out of Claren’s arms, retaining only her hands as they danced.  “You think because I have a daughter, that solves all of our issues?”

 

“What issues?” Claren grinned at her, pulling her close again.  “We drove each other fucking wild, KT,” she growled in Kieran’s ear, feeling the Counselor’s response.  “We’re both more mature now.  I’m ready for something—serious, now.  I wasn’t then.  Tell me truthfully,” she peered into Kieran’s deep brown eyes.  “Have you ever had better sex with anyone else?”

 

Kieran’s mouth went dry. “No.  No one.”

 

“Then why not give this a shot?  It could be great,” she contended, nuzzling Kieran’s throat.

 

“Why not?  How about Harry Kim,” Kieran replied reluctantly.  “He’s my friend.  I—can’t.  As much as I’d like to—Jesus, CJ,” she shivered at the brushing of lips over her pulse point.  “You know how hard it is to say no,” she rested her head on Claren’s shoulder, trying to calm herself.  Claren’s hands sliding down her back did nothing to ease the blood screaming in her veins.

 

“Then don’t,” the muscular woman urged.  “Harry dumped me.  How can you be worried about him?  Shit, KT, worry about yourself for once,” she whispered.  “Come home with me,” she toyed with the hair at the back of Kieran’s neck, feeling the Counselor’s resolve crumbling.  “God, it’s been so long,” she pleaded in Kieran’s ear.  “Do you remember that night, in the snow boarding program?”

 

Kieran swallowed hard.  “God, yes,” she sighed.  “Oh, CJ, that—that was something else,” she admitted, shuddering,  remembering the piercing passion they had shared.

 

“I still have the program,” she said throatily.  “We can run it right now,” she invited.  “I’ll make love to you all night,” she promised huskily.

 

Kieran closed her eyes, so close to relenting, she was appalled at her own weakness.  She forcibly removed herself from Claren’s arms, and from temptation.  In that instant, she saw over Claren’s shoulder, and for a split second, she could see Naomi, watching the two women dancing.  Naomi’s eyes looked empty and disturbed, her face filled with sadness.  

 

“I can’t,” Kieran reiterated.  “Please, don’t ask me, CJ.  Great sex wasn’t enough the first two times we dated.  It certainly won’t be enough now, not for me.  The deeper things—they were just never there, with us, not for me,” she said apologetically.  “That’s why I broke it off—not because I was scared.  I’m sorry.  But that’s why I haven’t answered you comm messages.  I think it’s bad enough we let ourselves make the same mistakes twice.  I’m not going to go for three times.”

 

Claren stood there, dismayed.  “You’re sure?”

 

“I am,” Kieran nodded resolutely.  “I’m sorry,” she turned to go back to the table where Naomi had been sitting, only to find the Ktarian had disappeared.

 

_________________

 

Seven of Nine reached across the chair to touch her daughter.  “Naomi, you look wonderful,” she complimented the stunning young woman.  “I thought you were going to find Kieran and dance with her?” she inquired.

 

Naomi bit her lip.  “I think Kieran’s dance card is going to fill up.  She and Claren James were—uh—almost as intimate as Rachel and B'Elanna,” she reported dismally.

 

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Seven arranged Naomi’s hair on her shoulders.  “I know it’s hard,” she sympathized.

 

“I know you know,” Naomi nodded.  “I wish that made it better, but it doesn’t.  Those damned hallucinations just made me so confused,” she complained.  “I look at her, and I can’t help seeing my spouse,” she admitted.  “And she looks at me, and sees a little girl, with a coloring book and a Kadis Kot board.”

 

“The sessions with Dee are not helpful?” Seven asked tenderly.

 

“Not particularly,” Naomi groused. “And here comes K-Mom, so change the subject,” she noted as the Captain approached.  “Thanks for keeping my confidence, Seven,” she added.

 

Kathryn sat back down at the table, depositing fresh drinks for everyone.  “Sorry Kato,” she smiled at the Counselor, who was just sidling up herself.  “I didn’t get you anything.  I thought you were off with Noah.”

 

Kieran studied Naomi’s face, and realized instantly that the young woman had watched Claren flirting with Kieran and been upset by it.  “Actually, I was off with Claren James.  I owed her a dance.”

 

Kathryn quirked an eyebrow.  “She’s awfully attractive,” the Captain winked.

 

“Yes, she is, but not my type,” Kieran said for Naomi’s benefit.  “I tend to be less attracted to buff and shredded women than to softer, more curvaceous women,” she winked at Kathryn. 

 

“I didn’t think you had a type,” Kathryn teased her.  “I thought the only requirement was female,” she quipped.

 

Kieran laughed.  “That’s the first requirement.  And I don’t really have a type.  But I do like softness,” she waggled her eyebrows at Kathryn, chuckling.

__________________

 

Noah Lessing was oblivious to the fact that Rachel McVicker was only a few feet away, kissing B’Elanna Torres.  He was teaching Kieran a tandem dance, one that brought them close together in an embracing fashion, and apart again holding hands.  “Good, now step through,” he instructed her as she ducked beneath his arm, “and come back,” he guided her along, “and put your hand on my shoulder.”  He smiled winningly at her.  “Very nicely done.  You said you can’t dance.”

 

Kieran chuckled.  “I never could before.  Maybe because we’re close to the same height, it’s easier,” she speculated.  “Or maybe because you’re so good, you cover my mistakes,” she grinned, suspecting that was the real crux of it.

 

“I can’t remember when I’ve had this much fun,” he hugged her to him.  “And you look radiant.  You’re taking it well, KT.”

 

She shrugged.  “You mean Rachel and B’Elanna?”  He nodded.  “It’s not like I get a choice.  She looks pretty--um--engrossed,” she said, glancing at the two women who were once again kissing.  “I almost get the feeling that they’re putting on a show for my benefit,” she reported with a slight edge of disgust.

 

“I get the same feeling,” Noah agreed.  “Maybe we should fight fire with fire,” his tone softened and he dropped his face to Kieran’s, kissing her lingeringly.

 

Kieran was surprised, confused, and completely off balance, but before she could protest, her curiosity got the better of her.  Noah’s kiss was as gentle and warm as any woman’s she had ever known, though his mouth was larger and harder.  His beard scratched faintly against her cheeks, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, she decided.  Instinctively she cupped the back of Noah’s head in her hand, feeling the close-cropped hairs at the base of his skull, scratching lightly in the wake of her fingers.  Her fascination with the novelty of it kept her from pulling away, and soon, everyone around them had stopped dancing to watch the unlikely couple embracing.

 

B’Elanna was riveted to the spectacle, unable to look away.  It is one thing to have suspicions, quite another to have them confirmed, and the Klingon’s jaw hung below her shoulders.  Time seemed suspended, then as if nothing had happened, everyone collectively remembered their manners and forcibly looked away.

 

Kieran’s brain finally caught up with her body, and she realized she was kissing her roommate and closest male friend.  She self-consciously pulled away from him, hands planted against his chest and pushing him back.  She met his adoring expression guiltily, mystified by what they had done.  “Noah--” she began reproachfully.

 

He leaned his forehead against hers, oblivious to the objection in her tone.  “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” he said quietly, hugging her to him again.

 

Oh shit,  Kieran thought, he’s not just trying to make Rachel and B’Elanna jealous.  He meant that.  He meant that kiss for me.  Have I given him the wrong idea, somehow? 

 

Flustered, Kieran broke free of his smothering arms and rushed off the dance floor.  The sun was starting to set, and she was blinded momentarily as she hurried away.  Noah was after her in a flash, and the faster Kieran walked, the faster he followed.   She was running, then, stumbling in the deepening sand, espadrilles dragging with the weight of the debris they were taking on.

 

“I’m gonna get you,” Noah taunted, almost within reach.  He tapped her shoulder and it was enough to send her sprawling.  He tumbled with her, laughing and gasping for breath.  They rolled to a stop with him above her, smiling down at her.  “Gotcha,” he panted, still grinning.

 

Kieran was not amused.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she spat sand out of her mouth.

 

He smiled down at her.  “Kissing the woman I love,” he advised her, capturing her lips again.

 

She pushed him away.  “Stop it, Noah,” she sat up, brushing sand from her turquoise shirt.  “Have you lost your mind?  This is me, bud,” she emphasized, hand firmly in his chest to keep him at bay.

 

He withdrew immediately, sitting back on the shore, watching her intently.  “KT, come on,” he defended himself.  “Are you going to tell me you didn’t like kissing me?  It’s the third time today,” he reminded her.  “And you started it when you gave me my lei.”

 

Kieran was flabbergasted.  “That was a friendly gesture, because I love you.  Not because I wanted to make out with you,” she protested.  “What’s going on with you?”

 

He took her hands in his own, face earnest.  “What do you think, Kieran?” he asked with unmasked urgency.  He almost never used her name, and that was a dead giveaway that something important was happening between them.  “I love you,” he squeezed her hands.  “I’ve always loved you.  I want to be with you.  If B’Elanna is too obtuse to realize what she lost, then let her loss be my gain,” he contended, face soft with love.  Seeing the protest rising on her lips, he hurried on.  “Look, I know I’m a man, and I know you’ve never--had a relationship with a guy--but we are so good together,” he pleaded his case.  “You said yourself I’m the only person you can stand to be around, lately.  That should tell you something,” he tried to sound convincing.

 

“It does tell me something,” she agreed.  “It tells me I love you dearly, and you’re a wonderful friend.  But--”

 

“No buts,” he interrupted her.  “Not this time, KT.  Don’t hold it against me because I was born the wrong gender,” he begged.  “That’s not fair.  I couldn’t love you more, even if I was a woman.  Give this a chance,” he urged, leaning in to kiss her again.

 

She relented momentarily, trying to open her heart to the possibility, letting the sensation wash over her.  He deepened their kiss, opening her lips with his tongue, coaxing her into his arms.  Kieran found she was neither repulsed nor enthralled, but could feel his arousal growing.  She gently pushed him away again.  “Noah,” the firmness of her tone snapped him back to reality.  “I can’t.  You know I can’t, and you know why I can’t.  I am who I am.  As much as I wish I could change it, as much as I don’t want to hurt you, the fact remains.”

 

The hurt hung in the air palpably.  “Please, Kieran,” he took her hands again.  “We could be so much more to each other.  I know we could.  And I know I could make you happy, if you just let me.”

 

Kieran shook her head.  “Bud, it’s not that simple.  You want a lover, and I can’t be that for you.  I’m happy to be your friend, delirious to be close with you, even physically close, but not sexually intimate.  I just can’t.”  She met his eyes, trying to make him understand.  “I do love you, Noah, and I do think you’re wonderful and special, even amazingly attractive.  But that’s as far as it goes.  The idea of sex with any man just stops me cold in my tracks.  Remember when I told you how I would never date Rachel, as long as you have feelings for her, because certain boundaries are absolute?”

 

He nodded.  “I remember.”

 

“Well, for me, this is one of those boundaries.  It’s just something I will never, ever be open to.”

 

He leaned in close again, dropping his voice an octave.  “That’s because you’ve never been with a man.  Whatever you imagine it to be, whatever you think it means, you don’t know because you haven’t experienced it.  Haven’t you ever been curious?  You’re usually open-minded about things.  Can you honestly tell me the thought has never crossed your mind?”

 

Kieran considered.  In fact, she had wondered about him.  Sleeping beside him, his body contoured to hers, the thought had crossed her mind.  She had even gone so far as to fantasize about the two of them, touching each other.  But when the fantasy had progressed to intercourse, it had lost its appeal entirely.  “A fleeting thought is hardly a foundation for a sexual relationship,” she argued. 

 

“If we take things very, very slowly,” he asserted, “let you acclimate to the situation,” he touched her cheek softly, “maybe you’ll find there’s more going on between us than you think.  Don’t we owe it to ourselves to find out?”

 

Kieran was not swayed.  She had always been crystal clear about her sexuality.  She had never wavered.  She was sure she had always been right, and that she was only confused now because Noah was such a good friend, and she wanted to avoid hurting him.  “I don’t need a lover, Noah.  I need a friend.  I don’t want to mess up our relationship.  If I had had any idea you felt this way, I’d have set you straight long ago.”  She dug her shoe into the sand, afraid to meet his eyes.  “I need to move out.  That’s where the lines got blurred, and that’s my fault.  I should have been more conscious of what was going on with you, and I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be sorry, KT,” he pleaded.  “And don’t move out.  I know this can work if you just give me a chance,” his voice was so sincere, his expression so passionate.

 

“Bud, you are just kidding yourself,” she replied.  “Rachel is more bisexual than I’ll ever be, and it didn’t work with her.  I don’t have even half a heterosexual tendency,” she argued.  “I’d be doing it for all the wrong reasons, most notably, to avoid disappointing you.  You deserve someone who is crazy about you, who wants to tear your clothes off and make love to every inch of you.  That’s never going to be me, Noah.  Never,” she restated firmly.  She heaved a sad sigh, dragging herself up from the shore.  “I thought you understood who I am, bud.  I really did.  But I can’t be what you want, and you obviously can’t be what I want.”

 

“Kieran, wait,” he jumped up to follow her.  “Don’t walk away.  Not like this,” his tone was desperate.

 

“Stay here.  Enjoy the party.  But do NOT follow me,” she ordered him.  “This is not negotiable, Noah.”

 

“But I love you,” he murmured, hurting.

 

Kieran walked back to him and hugged him.  “And I love you.  More than you’ll ever know.  But not romantically.  And that’s the end of the story,” she concluded, turning and walking away quickly.

 

 

______________________

 

Kieran practically ran back to the party, wanting to put as much distance between herself and Noah as possible.  She jogged up to the Captain’s table, looking haggard and worn.

 

Kathryn smirked at her friend’s hollow expression.  “That was some show you and Mr. Lessing put on,” she ribbed the Counselor good-naturedly.  “I guess Seven was on to something when she said you act like a married couple.”

 

Kieran was startled by the comment.

 

Seeing her consternation, Kathryn stopped teasing her.  “Hey, Kato, what’s going on?  You look bewildered as hell.  Are you okay?”  Kathryn touched the Counselor’s shoulder.  “You’ve never said a word about you and Noah.  How long has it been going on?” she dropped her voice to a near whisper.

 

Kieran shook her head.  “It isn’t going on,” she replied enigmatically.  “He just wishes it were.  I had to set him straight.  What you saw--that was just a mistake,” she explained.  “Kat, I need my own quarters.  I can’t keep staying with him, considering how he--feels about me,” she stammered, visibly shaken.  “Oh God,” she realized, “I hurt him so much.”

 

Kathryn steadied her with a firm grip on either shoulder.  “Okay.  Let’s go see what we can do.  Seven and I will help you move your things.  There might not be much available, though.  Things are pretty tight on the ship.”

 

Kieran smiled wanly.  “I need a place to sleep and shower, nothing more.  A converted broom closet is fine.”

 

Seven touched Kathryn’s sleeve.  “The Cargo Bay could be altered.  We could remove some of the alcoves,” she considered.  “As long as you don’t mind running into me once in awhile,” she said to Kieran.

 

Kathryn nodded.  “Until we can find a more permanent solution, that might work.  Seven already has a cot in there, and a portable ensuite unit.”

 

“That’s perfect,” Kieran agreed tiredly.  “In fact, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll just go there now.”

 

“Counselor,” Seven insisted, “we will accompany you to retrieve your personal belongings.  You need the support,” she advised, noting how pale Kieran had grown.

 

“Okay.  Thanks,” Kieran relented, and they headed out of the holodeck.  “But then you guys have to come back to the party.  I refuse to wreck anyone else’s night.  And Seven?”

 

The towering Borg stopped to listen.  “Yes?”

 

“Please check on Noah, for me?  He trusts you.  He might need someone to listen.”

 

Seven smiled faintly.  “Of course,” she slipped her arm around the Counselor’s shoulders, continuing their trek back to Noah’s quarters.

__________________

 

 

Naomi Wildman found Kieran in the Cargo Bay, lying on Seven’s cot, staring at the ceiling.  “Hey KT,” she called out quietly.  “K-Mom said I’d find you here.  You owed me a dance,” she admonished the older woman.  As she approached she saw Kieran wiping tears from her face.  “Hey,” she felt her heart lurch, “hey,” she whispered, kneeling beside the cot and hugging Kieran across her torso.  “It’s okay.”

 

Kieran twined her arms around the slight Ktarian, feeling as if she were adrift with no land in sight.  She clung to Naomi then, too miserable to explain what had happened.

 

Naomi crawled onto the cot and wrapped herself around the much larger Counselor, trying to lend consolation.  “I imagine if you’ve moved in here, that means Noah finally told you how he feels about you,” she guessed.

 

Kieran chuckled in spite of herself.  “Christ, you don’t miss much, do you?”

 

Naomi hugged her tighter.  “Not where you’re concerned, I don’t.  Are you okay?”

 

“I will be,” Kieran assured her.  “It’s just--God, I hate having to hurt people.  I hate being the bad guy.”

 

Naomi tried to cajole her out of her funk.  “Yeah, it’s tough being the object of everyone’s unrequited love,” she smarted.  “Popularity is a suckfest.”

 

Kieran bristled playfully.  “It can be,” she complained.  “It’s getting to be a theme with me, this quashing the dreams of those around me.  I’m sick of it.”

 

Naomi giggled.  “Then stop being so damned loveable,” she propped herself up on one hand, peering down at Kieran with a facetious grin.  “And don’t be so gorgeous.  What do you expect, when you show up in an outfit like the one you had on?  Of course everyone’s going to notice you,” she only partly concealed the approving tone of her voice. 

 

Kieran smiled.  “You are such a wise-ass, Wildwoman.”

 

Naomi kissed her cheek.  “I learned from the best, Counselor,” she reminded her.  “I know how to fix it, though.”

 

“Fix what?  Your being a wise-ass?” Kieran was feeling better already.

 

“No, your being too loveable.  You need bitch lessons.  I know the perfect instructor,” Naomi waggled her eyebrows.

 

Kieran chuckled.  “Let me guess.”

 

“Seven,” Naomi offered.  “She can whittle the biggest ego down to nothing in one swipe of her Borg-enhanced hand.  She could make you much less appealing.”

 

“I’m the Ship’s Counselor.  If I’m a bitch, nobody will feel safe coming to me,” Kieran argued, wrapping her arm around Naomi and pulling her into a warm hug.

 

“Well, then, I can’t help you,” Naomi teased.  “You can’t have it both ways,” she lectured.

 

“Besides,” Kieran considered seriously,  “Seven is not a bitch.  I adore her.  She’s direct, yes, but her heart is golden, Na,” Kieran decided.  “Sometimes, she’s the only one who can get through to me.  Her opinion always counts, even when nobody else’s does.”

 

Naomi smiled, snuggling into Kieran’s shoulder.  “Yeah, I know.  Like when you came back from being spatially displaced.  She was the one who made the difference.  She’s like that for me, too.  I can tell her anything,” she thought about her hallucinations.  “She is amazingly non-judgmental.”

 

Naomi realized that it would be a very bad idea to ever tell Kieran the content of those experiences, considering her history with the Counselor.  One more person with unrequited feelings was the last thing Kieran needed to deal with.  At least, now was not the time.  Naomi gazed adoringly at her friend, remembering briefly the romantic way Kieran had coaxed her out of Gran’s apple tree, justice-of-the-peace at the ready, standing there in her dress whites and ready to marry Naomi on a moment’s notice. 

 

“Anyway,” Naomi continued, “you didn’t look too much like you wanted to assert any bitch tendencies when Claren was dancing with you,” she teased the Counselor.  “I really expected you to leave the party with her.”

 

Kieran sighed.  “There’s a lot of history there, Na,” she explained.  “CJ knows how to push my buttons, that’s for sure,” she admitted.

 

“Yeah, so I noticed,” Naomi smirked.  “She must have been saying something good, from the look on your face,” she observed, trying not to sound jealous.

 

“Hey,” Kieran defended herself, “I’m not dead, you know.  I have desires, just like anyone else does,” she contended.  “It would’ve been really easy to go home with her, and she sure as hell wanted me to,” she said bluntly.

 

Naomi propped herself up on one hand, gazing down at her companion.  “Then why didn’t you just go home with her, KT?” she asked softly.

 

“There were a dozen reasons not to give in, and only one reason to go home with her.  The one reason wasn’t a good enough one.”

 

Naomi puzzled over it.  “She said something that had you pretty aroused, didn’t she?”

 

Kieran’s eyes closed involuntarily.  “Yes,” she said hoarsely.

 

“KT,” Naomi touched her face, “why would you deprive yourself?  B'Elanna sure as hell isn’t,” she noted correctly.

 

“It’s complicated,” Kieran sighed, rolling up onto her side to face Naomi.  “Two years after Voyager got lost, CJ and I were lovers,” she decided to tell the Ktarian some of the details.  “It was—very steamy, what we had.  But I was young, and not ready for anything serious, and neither was she, and it just didn’t work out.”

 

“You mean you lost your steam?” Naomi quipped.

 

Kieran laughed.  “Emotionally, yes.  Not sexually.  Damn, Na, that woman is just—” she shivered.

 

“That good, huh?” Naomi grinned at her.

 

“Oh, my God,” Kieran confirmed.  “Anyway, we stopped seeing each other—I broke it off with her.  But then about a year later, I started feeling like maybe I was ready for something more serious, and so I asked her to get back together, and she said yes,” Kieran recalled.

 

“And was it just as hot as before?” Naomi asked softly.

 

“Even better,” Kieran admitted.  “But the sexual aspect of the relationship was the best thing about it.  Other than that, there wasn’t any real substance to it, not for me.  She fell in love so hard, that second time, and I just didn’t feel that way about her.  I cared about her, and God knows, I wanted her in my bed, but I couldn’t see a future for us, and I told her so.  She got pissed, understandably, and broke up with me.  And I moved on.  I know myself, and I know that if I tried to date her again, the physical things would click, just like they always did, but I’d be starving to death, emotionally.”

 

Naomi chuckled gently.  “For my money, the sexual would be plenty,” she quirked an eyebrow.

 

Kieran nodded.  “At your age, it would’ve been enough for me too.  But I know, now, what it means to connect with someone deeply, and I can’t live without that in my relationship.  I need to link on a spiritual level, a soul level, as well as a sexual one.  And there’s something else, with CJ.”

 

“What’s that?” Naomi brushed Kieran’s fallen bangs off of her forehead, the intimacy of the gesture creating a faint tingle in her fingertips.

 

“She’s dated men since we broke up.  I don’t want to be lovers with a bisexual woman.  I want a partner who is committed to me, and who is satisfied by my gender.  I want to know that when I make love to her, she’s thinking about me, and never about some guy she wishes were between her legs, instead,” she said with an edge of bitterness. “With CJ, I’d never be sure.”

 

“But KT,” Naomi argued, “you were kissing Noah tonight,” she pointed out.

 

“Believe me, honey,” she shook her head, “that wasn’t coming from me.  He really shocked the hell out of me.  I mean, I love him—he’s one of my best friends.  But I never saw that coming.  I wish I could change myself, because I do love him, and I’m probably being the most narrow minded jerk, just sending him away like that without giving him a chance, but—I just can’t help it.  I’m a lesbian.  I love women.  I want a life partner that’s a woman, and I want her to love women as exclusively as I do,” she was adamant in her convictions.

 

Naomi took her free hand, squeezing it.  “Then that’s what you should find, KT.  You deserve to have what you really want,” she asserted firmly.  She smiled at her friend.  “Is what you told K-Mom true?  You don’t have a type?”

 

Kieran smiled.  “Oh, I suppose there are characteristics I appreciate,” she confessed.  “For instance, I’m really attracted to smart women, usually women that are a lot smarter than me,” she snickered.  “I want to be intellectually challenged.”

 

“B'Elanna is brilliant, but she’s not one whit smarter than you, Kieran,” Naomi leapt to her defense immediately.

 

“I agree with you there, Na,” Kieran allowed.  “Lanna and I are pretty well equals, but in different areas.  But someone who is really phenomenally intelligent just draws me into a state of awe.  Seven is like that.  I could listen to her talk for hours.  In fact, sweetie, you’re like that.  You’re still developing your skills, but I’m sure if I gave you an IQ test tomorrow, you’d score in the genius range.”

 

Naomi blushed prettily.  “You’re teasing me.”

 

“No, seriously.  Now that I’ve said it, we should do it sometime.  I should do the adult intelligence scale on you.  Though, I might get too intimidated to talk to you at all, if I find out you’re the next Einstein.”

 

“What other characteristics are you attracted to?” Naomi loved to listen to Kieran talk about herself.  She loved the slow, steady cadence of her voice, the way she articulated certain syllables.  “What do you want from your partner?”

 

Kieran considered.  “A sense of humor, for sure.  She has to be able to tolerate a wise-ass like me, so she’s going to have to be patient.  I want a partner who is compassionate, and kind, and energetic.  And I want someone who’ll try new things all the time—new recreations, new foods—new—um—”

 

Naomi waggled her eyebrows.  “New sexual things?” she prompted the older woman.

 

“Yeah,” Kieran laughed, blushing. “I like an adventurous lover—someone who can bring me out of my shell.  That’s what made it so good with CJ—she is very creative, sexually, and she is a master of verbal seduction.”

 

“So your partner should be good at verbal seduction,” Naomi pretended to check items off a list.

 

“She doesn’t have to be, but I sure do respond to that,” she grinned sheepishly.

 

“So, she has to be smart, patient, compassionate, kind, energetic, adventurous and have a sense of humor,” Naomi recited.  “KT,” she laughed liltingly, “you narcissist.  You just described yourself,” she howled.

 

Kieran leaned over and kissed Naomi’s cheek.  “You’re sweet,” she murmured.

 

“Anything else?” Naomi demanded.  “Blonde?  Brunette?  Eye color?”

 

Kieran shook her head.  “No.  Physical characteristics aren’t that important to me.  I mean, I can appreciate a lot of different physiques, hair color, superficial things—they don’t move me that much.  Don’t get me wrong, when I see a beautiful woman, I’m going to stop and admire her, as much as the next person.  And I can certainly have a visceral reaction to a gorgeous woman.  But I don’t favor one body type over another, or blue eyes over brown—not those sorts of things.”

 

“I thought you said hard-bodied women were less appealing to you that curvaceous ones,” she pointed out.

 

“Well, that’s true,” Kieran agreed.  “I tend to like softer, sexier women—voluptuous women, more than sculpted ones.  I’ve been attracted to both—Rachel McVicker is very pretty, and she is definitely the more sculpted type of woman.  Claren is certainly hard bodied, and I was plenty attracted to her.  But overall, I like women with soft curves—I like to fill my hands with tender bottoms and full breasts,” she described, “all the things that make a woman a woman,” she murmured, almost imagining her palms full and aching with tenderness. 

 

Naomi felt a wave of heat wash over her at the description.

 

“God, I’m sorry, Na,” Kieran stopped herself.  “I didn’t mean to get so graphic,” she apologized.

 

“No, please,” Naomi twined her fingers with Kieran’s.  “I love when you open up, like this, when you’re just yourself.  That’s honest, KT.  You really feel that way.  It’s not graphic,” she urged, feeling a bit breathless at the intimate descriptives.  “You’re the only one I feel comfortable enough with to talk about sexual things,” she admitted. 

 

“Oh, one other thing,” Kieran noted.  “I like athletic women.  They don’t have to be champions or olympians, or anything,” she clarified.

 

“You mean they don’t have to be as good as you,” Naomi put in, smiling.

 

“Well, okay, since you put it that way.  But I like women who will do jock stuff with me.  B'Elanna taught me to fight with a bat’leth, and I loved learning that.  Claren showed me some martial arts moves that were fun to learn.  Even just learning to dance, with Noah tonight—that was such fun, for me.  I always picture myself with a lover that will work out with me, spot for me when I lift weights, and I can spot for her.  Someone who doesn’t mind shooting baskets for two hours at a time, someone who enjoys the batting cages—someone who will dive with me and parasail and all the stuff I love to do.”  Kieran fell silent.  “I guess that’s a pretty tough order to fill, huh?  My expectations are probably way too high.”

 

Naomi shook her head.  “I don’t think so, KT.  I bet most people have longer lists than that.  I probably do, myself,” she chuckled.

 

“Let’s hear yours, then,” Kieran encouraged her, smiling warmly at her.

 

“Hmmm…I think she needs to be a good listener.  I want someone who makes me laugh, who isn’t hung up on rules all the time, and who thinks I’m the one thing in the world that matters most,” she began.  “She’s got to be clever, and resourceful, and she has to know who she really is.  I want someone passionate—about life, about me, about her life with me.  Like you, I gravitate toward smart people.  Open-mindedness and creativity are important.  And I want someone who appreciates and can share my love for music.  I want a partner who loves kids, because I want kids.  And she has to love to eat, because I love to cook,” she added, thinking hard.  “My lover has to be gentle, someone who isn’t afraid to cry and be vulnerable to me.  She has to accept my tears, as readily as I accept hers.  I want someone who believes in the things I do—in marriage, in fidelity, in commitment, and in perseverance for the sake of the relationship.  More than anything, I want a partner who will be my equal in all things,” she concluded.

 

Kieran listened carefully, smiling.  “Do you realize you just said ‘she’ about twenty times?  You picture yourself with a woman?”

 

“I don’t picture myself with a man, not at this point,” she said thoughtfully.  “That’s funny—I never even realized it, but I do think in terms of women.  But then, I’m surrounded by women who love women, so I guess that’s going to be my frame of reference.”

 

“Well, you can always change your mind anytime you want, and no one would think anything of it, Na,” Kieran assured her.  “Your mom and B'Elanna have both had male lovers.  Seven and I are the exception.  The important thing is that you should have all the things your heart desires, love,” she said softly. “I worry for you, because Voyager is so small, and there are so few people aboard, and almost no one your age.  I suspect, eventually, we’ll be taking on some alien who will be your mate, because there’s no one on this ship good enough for you,” she said fondly, touching Naomi’s cheek. 

Naomi swallowed her immediate reaction, which was to assert that Kieran was more than good enough.  “You look exhausted,” she noted, seeing Kieran’s eyes drooping. 

 

“Yeah, I am.  But my brain won’t let me sleep,” she complained.  “I get to the periphery of sleep, and then my brain starts working overtime again, and I’m wide awake.”

 

“I know the feeling,” Naomi sympathized.  “I’ve been having nightmares lately, and after I wake up from one, I’m afraid to go back to sleep.”

 

Kieran’s professional acumen gouged her.  “Nightmares?  Tell me about them.”

 

“No,” Naomi hugged her, “you’re not on duty, Counselor.  But I’ll make you a deal.  If you go to sleep right now, I’ll tell you about them tomorrow.”

 

Kieran yawned.  “Will you stay with me?  You feel so good.  And I’ll keep the nightmares at bay, I promise,” she offered.

 

Naomi smiled.  “Of course I’ll stay,” she slipped out of bed.  “Let me send the Moms a note, so they don’t worry,” she went to Kieran’s workstation.  “As for the nightmares,” she tapped in her message and hit the ‘send’ key, then eased back into bed, “I know you’ll keep them away.  G’night, KT,” she murmured, kissing Kieran’s cheek softly and curling into her arms.  She sighed happily, thinking of their married life aboard Noah’s ship.  This life wasn’t the same, but it was pretty good, too.  “Computer, extinguish the lights,” she ordered, already dreaming.

 

Kieran slept dreamlessly, though her mind was troubled over Noah.  She kept Naomi in her arms for the first two hours, but suddenly, Naomi launched herself up and off the bed, running for the ensuite.

 

“Na?” Kieran leapt out of bed.  “Honey, what’s wrong?” she followed the Ktarian to the ensuite, where Naomi had a vomiting fit.  “I’ve got you, sweetie, it’s okay,” she held Naomi around the waist, steadying her while she retched.

 

Naomi collapsed in the floor, shaking and covered with sweat.  “KT, get the Doctor,” she writhed in pain on the deck.  “Hurry,” she urged.

 

Kieran rifled through her discarded clothes for her comm badge and hailed the EMH.  He materialized momentarily, scanning Naomi.  She lay in the floor, groaning in pain, the eerie green lights from Seven’s alcove playing across her porcelain features. 

 

“The treatments aren’t working anymore,” he scowled grimly.  “I’m going to have to take you to sickbay.  For now, I can give you something for the pain, Naomi,” he grimaced at her obvious discomfort.  The hypospray was so strong, it made her lose consciousness.  “No hurry to move her, now,” he said to Kieran.  “I’ll get an anti-grav sled.”

 

“No,” Kieran insisted. “I’ll get dressed and carry her.  What the hell is going on?”

 

The Doctor shook his head.  “I’m not clear on it. We know something about her experience on Restid Three has accelerated her maturation.  She’s aging very quickly.  I can’t figure out what is causing it, and why the effects haven’t abated.  We left Restid a long time ago,” he puzzled over it.  “She’s been very sick.”

 

Kieran looked dumbfounded.  “Nobody told me,” she protested.

 

“You’ve had your own problems to deal with, Counselor,” he asserted. 

 

Kieran tugged on her sweats, annoyed.  “So that episode in my office awhile back--that wasn’t the first?”

 

“That was the first,” he packed away his medical equipment.  “But it certainly wasn’t the last.  I must see her every two or three days.  I can’t seem to keep up with her physiological changes, no matter what I do.”

 

Kieran pulled on her shoes, then gently lifted Naomi into her arms.  “You’d better hail Kathryn and Seven,” she recommended, carrying Naomi out of the cargo bay.

______________

 

Naomi was resting comfortably, and the Doctor had sent Seven and Kathryn home.  The two women were accustomed to the late night episodes, and knew there was no point in sitting up all night fretting over it.  Kieran, on the other hand, was uninitiated into the trials and tribulations Naomi was going through, and she insisted on remaining bedside.  She pulled up a chair, keeping watch over her young friend.  “Sweetie,” she whispered.  “I promised to keep the nightmares away, but I guess I blew it,” she smoothed back Naomi’s long hair.  “I’m so sorry.”

 

Naomi stirred beneath Kieran’s touch, smiling softly.  Her eyelids fluttered, long elegant lashes blinking away sleep, and she took Kieran’s hand.  “I’m okay,” she said groggily.  “You should go to bed, KT,” she tried to reassure the distraught Counselor.

 

Kieran stood and leaned over the biobed, unmoved.  “How long has this illness been an issue, Na?  The Moms told me you’ve been sick a lot, lately, and the Doctor is having trouble getting the situation under control,” she said quietly, kissing Naomi’s forehead.

 

“A few months,” she admitted.  “It’s no secret I’ve been growing like crazy,” she said sleepily.  “But the hormonal changes that are causing it make me pretty sick, and my body is changing so fast that it causes a lot of pain.  I told you about it, KT,” she reminded her.  “That day I brought you flowers at Noah’s?”

 

Kieran nodded.  “You didn’t say anything specific about night sweats and vomiting, Na,” Kieran admonished gently.  “You said growing pains.”  She gathered Naomi into her arms, crawling onto the bed beside her.  “Is it mostly your legs?”

 

“No,” Naomi confided.  “It’s everything.  My joints hurt, because my bones are growing too fast.  My nerves can’t grow as quickly as they need to, to keep up, and that causes pain.  My vascular system is strained by the changes in blood pressure as the veins and arteries lengthen and then are pulled short.  Last week they told me my lungs are too large for my chest cavity, and it causes pressure.  It’s like, everything is growing at different rates, and nothing is in sync, and I hurt all over.  My metabolism is so fast, I can’t keep a steady weight, and I pass everything too quickly, which is why I throw up.  Food doesn’t digest before it moves, and it backs up,” she explained.  “At least, that was the last assessment.  Every time I come to sickbay, something different has gone wrong.  Today, it may be my brain, or my liver, or who knows what.”

 

Kieran clung tightly to her, feeling very frightened.  “That sounds extremely serious, Na,” she murmured.

 

“Yeah,” she agreed.  “My heart has stopped several times.  My kidneys failed, last week,” she confided.  “I’ve had a tough time, KT.”

 

“What does the Doctor say your prognosis is?” she asked meekly.

 

“If he can’t slow down the aging process?  Not good,” Naomi grinned, as if it were funny.  “He’s working on it.”

 

Kieran curled around her, burying her face in Naomi’s soft hair.  “Baby,” she whispered.  “I can’t stand to see you in pain,” she choked on the words.  “I love you so much, Na,” she fought tears.

 

Naomi sighed, settling into her.  “I know,” she said patiently. “I think, KT, you and I had better find some time to spend together, and soon,” she said ominously. 

 

A cold chill shot through Kieran at the request.  “Don’t talk like that,” she started to shake. 

 

“Just stating facts.  I haven’t wanted to burden you, not considering everything else you’ve been going through.  But it just feels to me like I can’t hang on, at this rate, much longer.  I have good days, and I have bad days, and I have days where I think ‘well, this is my last day’, you know?” she clutched Kieran’s shirt.

 

Kieran cradled her protectively, thinking her heart would shatter.  “I can take a lot, Na,” she admitted.  “I can handle losing a lot of people.  But not you,” she hid her face in Naomi’s shoulder.  “Not you,” she repeated.  “You have to get better,” she urged.

 

Naomi laughed bitterly, ruffling Kieran’s hair.  “I’m trying, KT.  But my body seems to have other ideas about it,” she shrugged.  “The Doctor has only been able to alleviate the pain, so far, and some of the symptoms, but not the underlying cause, because he doesn’t know what it is.  The bottom line is, if he doesn’t slow it down, I’m going to burn out--be used up, like our gel packs that keep failing.”  Naomi sighed tiredly.  “So please, can we spend some time together?”

 

“Of course we will,” Kieran promised.  “As much as you want, honey.  What would you like to do together?”

 

“This is good,” Naomi snuggled in closer.  “I need to sleep,” she murmured.

 

“Then sleep, sweetie.  I’ll stay with you as long as you want,” Kieran said, despite the way her throat closed.

 

_________________

 

Kieran stayed in sickbay until Naomi was released the next morning, and the Ktarian insisted on going to work.  Kieran threw a fit as they walked back to the Captain’s quarters,  saying Naomi had no business on active duty.

 

“Look, KT,” Naomi argued, getting peeved, “Voyager is falling apart at the seams, or haven’t you reviewed the departmental reports, lately?” she planted her hands on her hips.  “We have people pulling double shifts every day for weeks at a time, trying to keep up with the system failures.  B’Elanna’s first night off was at the dance last night.  Otherwise, she’s at work 18 hours a day.  I can’t bail out on them.”

 

Kieran was fuming.  “Screw the ship, Naomi,” she paced angrily in Naomi’s bedroom.  “You’re not well, and you need to rest.”

 

Naomi fixed her with a pointed stare.  “If I survive and life support fails, what have we accomplished?” she demanded. “I have to work.  End of discussion.”

 

Kieran crossed her arms.  “Don’t make me put you on mandatory leave.”

 

Naomi was furious.  “You do, and I’ll never speak to you again, Kieran Thompson.  There’s nothing wrong with me psychologically.  It’s physical.  You have no fucking right and no jurisdiction,” she snapped.  “Now I have a job to do, and I intend to do it.  I’ll see you later,” she dismissed her summarily.

 

Kieran stormed into the living room of the Captain’s quarters, ready to kick something in her frustration.

 

Seven stood there, watching Kieran’s fury playing in her facial features. 

“Naomi told you she is sick,” Seven stated, approaching the perturbed woman. 

 

“Yes, and why the hell didn’t anyone say something sooner?” Kieran shouted, wanting to throw the couch out the porthole.

 

Seven hugged Kieran.  “Counselor, Naomi asked us not to tell you.  And there is nothing you could do about it, anyway.”

 

“She shouldn’t be working, Seven,” Kieran hugged her back.  “She needs to rest, and undergo tests.”

 

“It’s her time, Kieran, let her spend it as she sees fit.  It this illness goes on much longer, she won’t be able to work, anyway.  As long as she is capable, and wants to do it, I see no reason to deny her that,” Seven said coolly.

 

Kieran looked miserably into Seven’s eyes.  “How bad is it really?” she whispered, tears welling again.

 

“Very bad,” Seven informed her.  “Bad enough that we have discussed last wishes and funeral arrangements,” she admitted.

 

“God damn it, Seven, why didn’t you tell me?  You and Kathryn, you must be dying inside,” she wailed. 

 

“We have spent hours and hours crying and debating and weighing things, and the appropriate time to tell you just never came.  We also did not want to break Naomi’s confidence.  There was no way to tell you what we’ve been going through, and keep her illness confidential,” Seven reasoned.  “I’m sorry.  I know this is a shock.”

 

“Oh, your Borgness,” Kieran hugged her, “I had no idea.  My God, I’ve had my head up my ass so long over this petty thing with B’Elanna, I missed all the signs.  Can you ever forgive me?  Some friend I’ve been to you,” she mentally beat herself.

 

“Don’t berate yourself.  We will talk, I’m certain.  Now, Naomi will be ready any minute, and I want to try to get her to eat before she leaves.  Will you excuse me?”

 

Kieran nodded unhappily.  “I have to get ready for work, too.  I’ll see you later Seven.  Please, call me if you need anything at all,” she urged.

 

_________________

 

 

Kieran found a message from B’Elanna in her comm account, asking her to stop by Engineering at her earliest convenience, because they really needed to talk.  Kieran was so upset over Naomi, her failed marriage was the farthest thing from her mind, but she replied to the message and said she would try to come by before the end of Alpha shift.

 

Kieran went through the day with a heavy heart, hailing the Doctor repeatedly to see if he had made any progress in finding the solution to Naomi’s problem.  After the third hail, the Doctor scolded Kieran for wasting his research time with her incessant badgering, and instructed her not to bother him.  He promised that if and when he found a treatment, she would be second to know, after the Janeways.

 

Late in the afternoon, Kieran had a cancellation in her appointments, and she took the opportunity to walk down to Engineering to see what B’Elanna wanted.

 

She found the Chief Engineer knee-deep in bursting gel packs, deteriorating tubing, and chemical spills.  Alarms were going off all around them, and B’Elanna grinned maniacally at her, as if to say, “So what’s fucking new?”

 

“This isn’t a good time, obviously,” Kieran said to her wife.  “When things calm down, we’ll talk.  Okay?”

 

“No, wait,” B’Elanna dumped the gel packs on the floor, not caring that the blue sludge in them burst and flowed all over the deck.  “I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding between us, and I want to--”

 

“Warning.  There is a leak in the antimatter containment unit.”

 

Kieran’s eyes bulged.  “Another time, B’Elanna.  This is more important.  You know where I live, come see me,” she spun on her heel and left the area, thinking how horrid the mess was in that department.

 

She spotted Naomi Wildman, tearing out gel packs, covered with the slimy blue contents.  Naomi was discarding them in hazmat containers, shaking her head.  She looked up at Kieran.  “Damned things wear out almost as fast as we can replace them,” she growled. 

 

Kieran knelt on the floor beside her.  “Na, I’m sorry about this morning.  I was out of line.  I just wasn’t dealing very well with the news about your illness,” she admitted softly.  “I needed to get used to the idea.”

 

Naomi grinned at her.  “And just like that, you’re at peace with my dying?” she needled the Counselor.

 

Kieran’s face darkened.  “I’ll never be at peace with that.  I’m putting my bet on a medical solution.  But I’m also going to postpone my command school final, so that I don’t have to be studying or putting in extra shifts.  I’ll have the free time you want to share, if that’s still what you want.”

 

Naomi regarded her with the most loving eyes Kieran had ever seen.  “You would do that for me?”

 

“I’d do anything for you,” Kieran said honestly.  “I would never forgive myself if--if--something happened to you, and I had squandered our time doing something as unimportant as studying or playing Captain.”

 

“Will K-Mom let you do that?” Naomi asked, uncertain.  She scraped goo from her hands, noting it was starting to burn her skin.  “Damn, hand me a hazmat wipe, will you?”

 

Kieran got up and ran for the med kit.  “Here,” she started to wipe the caustic slime from Naomi’s hands and wrists.  “This stuff isn’t supposed to be reactive,” she noted, continuing to gently wipe away the offending substance.

 

“Yeah, well whatever is wrong with it, it makes it burn like hell,” Naomi complained.  “Thanks, that’s a lot better.”

 

Kieran returned to their conversation.  “I don’t know what Kathryn will say, but if she fights me on it, I’ll drop out.”

 

Naomi’s eyes widened in disbelief.  “KT, you wouldn’t do that when B’Elanna wanted you to--to save your own marriage.  You can’t do that just because I’m sick,” she insisted.

 

“I can, and I will,” Kieran supplied.  “I’ll sacrifice a lot of things for my career, Na.  But this time you want to spend together, that’s a huge priority for me.  I won’t take no for an answer.  But I also think Kathryn will understand.  Chakotay may be a tougher sell, since he’s really anxious to take a leave of absence, but he’ll have to get over it.”

 

Naomi was careful not to get any gel on Kieran, but she leaned over and kissed her cheek.  “I love you, KT,” she said fondly.  “This means a lot to me.”

 

“You mean the world to me,” she replied, fighting the catch in her throat.  “A lot more than whether I ever get to wear command red,” she noted.  “I’m going to go talk to your mother about it.  Keep your fingers crossed.  Would you like to have dinner tonight?”

 

“I’d love it,” Naomi smiled warmly.  “I just have to drop by sickbay for medication after my shift, and then I’m all yours.”

 

“Great.  I’ll see you in sickbay right after Alpha ends, then,” Kieran agreed.  “Be careful with that blue crap, Na,” she said protectively.  “Bye.”

 

_________________

 

Captain Kathryn Janeway sat behind her desk, tapping her fingertips together thoughtfully.  “She finally told you,” she stated more than asked.  “Thank God.  I’ve been sick, keeping it from you.  But she insisted.”

 

Kieran leaned her elbows on Kathryn’s desk.  “I can’t believe it, Kat,” she sighed.  “I’m so sorry.”

 

Kathryn swallowed hard.  “Me either.  She’s been deathly ill, Kato.  It’s been very close, a couple of times, and the Doctor just can’t get a handle on the processes that are killing her.  She’ll be fine for two or three days, and then it starts all over again.  He’ll devise a new treatment, and it works for a few days, and then back to square one,” she sighed, too worn out to be angry any longer.

 

“Kat, the real reason I came to see you is that Naomi has asked--she’s scared, Kat.  She thinks she can’t hold on much longer.  And she wants to spend some time with me, in case she’s right.  And I want to spend time with her, too.  I’d just never forgive myself if I didn’t make this time for her, and anything happened.  So I want to postpone my command track exam, and suspend my extra shifts, so that I have time for her.  I’m asking your permission to do so.”

 

Kathryn nodded.  “Permission granted.  Besides, I know you.  If I said no, you’d quit the program, wouldn’t you?”

 

Kieran nodded.  “Already decided that much,” she admitted.  “Some things matter more than a career, Kathryn.”

 

“I know you love her, Kato.  I understand.  I’ll break the news to Chakotay.  It’s time I told him about Naomi’s illness, anyway.  In fact, now that she’s told you, we can stop tiptoeing around about it.  She didn’t want to complicate your life, given your troubles with B’Elanna.  So she made us all promise not to tell you.”

 

Kieran hung her head.  “God, she’s amazing.  She shames me.”

 

“Why?” Kathryn asked, taking Kieran’s hand across the desk.

 

“She’s grappling with her survival, and I’ve been moping around because my wife likes men,” she stated simply.  “It’s so clear to me now.  Isn’t it funny, how something like this puts everything in perspective?”

 

Kathryn nodded.  “But what’s clear to you, now?”

 

“My situation with B’Elanna.  Life is too short.  She should be with a man, or with a woman who is willing to share her with a man.  That’s not me.  And I am going to stop trying to figure out a way to change the fact that she is who she is.  It’s as futile as Noah trying to make me change so that I could love him.  I should thank him for bringing that into focus for me.  There’s no way to work it out with B’Elanna.  It’s just over.  She can date Rachel, if she wants, but it won’t last.  Eventually, she is going to be with a guy.  And letting her go is the right thing to do.  I’m totally fine with the idea now.”

 

“But Kato,” Kathryn objected, “B’Elanna broke it off with Rachel, so she can try to reconcile with you.  She has no intention of signing the divorce decree.  She told us all about it last night, after you left the party.  Didn’t she tell you?”

 

Kieran shrugged.  “I guess that was why she summoned me to Engineering today.  But it doesn’t matter.  She can delude herself all she wants, but the marriage is over, for me.  Even if I hadn’t had to watch the parade of other people between her legs, the fact remains.  She is not a lesbian.  And I am not going to be with someone who isn’t completely convinced I’m it for them.  Period.”

 

Kathryn sighed.  “I figured you’d feel that way.  I’m sorry for you both.”

 

“Don’t be, Kat.  And thank you for understanding why I want to do this for Naomi,” she said grimly. “You know, at times like this, I really envy people who believe in a supreme being.  They have someone to pray to.  Someone to beg to change things.”

 

Kathryn smirked.  “I don’t believe in anything, but I’m praying, just the same,” she admitted. 

 

_______________

 

Naomi Wildman underwent a short series of tests, and several hyposprays, before she was allowed to go to dinner with Kieran Thompson.  Kieran waited patiently, making a mental note of everything the Doctor did and said, checking Naomi’s readouts, and realizing that Naomi’s systems were indeed, stressed to the limit.  Her chest cavity had finally grown to accommodate the increasing size of her lungs, but now, her heart was smaller than it needed to be, and it made her tire easily.  Kieran had to fight herself to control the fear and the grief, and the incessant doubts about how long Naomi’s body could withstand the strain of her illness.

 

When Naomi was finally released, she hopped off the biobed, smiling at her dinner companion.  “What’s on the mess hall menu, tonight?” she asked pleasantly, as if nothing in the world was wrong.

 

Kieran smiled warmly, putting an arm around her shoulders.  “We’re dining on the holodeck.  My treat,” she said brightly, determined not to let Naomi see how sad she felt.

 

“Really?” Naomi was surprised.  “Where?”

 

Kieran led her down the corridor outside sickbay.  “There’s a restaurant near Starfleet Academy that I just love, and I want to take you there.  It’s a Chinese place called Kami Fong’s,” Kieran explained.  “Do you like Chinese food?”

 

Naomi nodded.  “I’ve only had it a couple of times, but I liked what I had,” she smiled up at Kieran.

 

A crewman passed them in the hall, casting a lingering glance at Naomi.  The stare made her uncomfortable.  “What’s he looking at?” she hissed quietly.

 

Kieran grinned.  “Honey, he’s looking at a beautiful woman,” she assured her.  “Haven’t you noticed everyone stares at you all the time?”

 

“Yeah,” Naomi scowled.  “I’ve noticed.”  Then smiling brightly up at her companion, she asked “Do you think I’m worth staring at?”

 

“Twice, at least,” Kieran laughed.  “You’re gorgeous, Na.  Don’t you ever look in a mirror?”

 

She shrugged.  “Only to curl my hair every morning.  Otherwise, not often.”

 

“You should take a good look, sweetie.  You’re the kind of beauty poetry was invented for,” she keyed in the holodeck commands. 

 

Naomi blushed at the compliment.  “You lie,” she accused lightly.

 

“I mean it,” Kieran said sincerely.  “Beautiful women are the reason artists paint, poets write, musicians compose—beautiful women like you are the inspiration and driving force behind all works of creativity.”

 

Naomi didn’t know what to make of the sweeping remarks.  She gazed up at Kieran, taking her arm as they strolled into the restaurant.  “This is lovely,” she commented, looking at the thick greenery and the opulent artwork on the walls of the establishment.  “What do you recommend?”

 

Kieran led her to their table.  “Mu shoo vegetables for the appetizer.  Egg rolls.  Mongolian Beef and green beans over sizzling rice, and coconut ice cream for dessert.  But you can look at the menu, if you like,” she added politely.

 

“No, you order for us,” Naomi refused, letting Kieran scoot her chair to the table with Naomi in it. She leaned her chin in her hand, watching Kieran talk to the waiter.  When he had taken their order, she smiled warmly at her friend.  “So what did K-Mom say about your request?”

 

“She granted it,” Kieran said simply.  “She knew I’d quit, if she said no.”

 

“You told her that?” Naomi was stunned, but impressed with Kieran’s resolve.

 

Kieran nodded.  “She knew, before I said so.  She knows me.  And she knows how important you are to me.  So she said it was fine.  So, no more studying nights and weekends, no more double shifts.  I’m doing my usual Alpha shift, and otherwise, my time is yours to monopolize.”

 

Naomi took Kieran’s hand across the table.  “Thank you.  I’m touched at your commitment,” she said gratefully. “It’s really okay if I take up a lot of your time?”

 

“Honey,” Kieran squeezed her fingers gently, “I want you to take as much of it as you want.  We’ll do whatever you like.  If you’re up to playing Velocity, we can play every day, if you want.  If you’d rather hang out with me in the Cargo Bay, my door is open.  If you want to play piano for me for hours, I’ll listen.  I just want to be with you, and I don’t care what we do.  And I don’t want you to think you have to protect me, anymore, Na.  I can’t believe you kept this from me.  I understand the intent, but it was unnecessary.  Please, don’t shut me out anymore.  Okay?”

 

“Okay,” she agreed. 

 

___________________

 

After dinner, which Naomi made all sorts of appreciative comments about, they retired to Naomi’s home, where Kathryn, Seven, and Geejay were finishing dinner.  Naomi agreed to play for Kieran, as soon as she changed out of her uniform.

 

“Would you like to change, KT?  You never look at ease in your uni,” Naomi invited her.  “I have enough of your clothing that I’m sure we can find something for you,” she laughed, taking Kieran to her room. 

 

She pulled open a drawer, and Kieran burst out laughing.  “My God, Na, what’d you do, steal my whole closet?” she demanded.

 

“No,” Naomi defended herself.  “I asked you for everything in here,” she protested, revealing multiple t-shirts, several sweatshirts, sweatpants, and even a few silk boxers and a-shirts.

 

“And I gave all this to you?  How come I’m not running around naked, then?” she teased.

 

“What would you like, smart ass?” Naomi shoved her playfully.

 

“Give me those old blue sweatpants and my powder blue Academy sweatshirt.  Those were my favorites.  Na,” she kissed the crown of Naomi’s hair, “why do you wear my clothes?” she chuckled.  “They don’t fit you worth a damn,” she pointed out.

 

Naomi blushed prettily.  “The truth?”

 

Kieran nodded, taking Naomi’s hands.

 

“Because they smell like you.  And I know they’ve surrounded you.  It makes me feel safe.  And it makes me feel loved,” she admitted.

 

Kieran’s heart tugged at her.  “Sweetie,” she hugged Naomi close.  “That is the sweetest thing,” she was moved by the innocence of it.  “Do you take Seven’s clothes, too?”

 

Naomi laughed.   “It’s tough to feel cuddly in a form-fitting biosuit,” she said, grinning.  Then more seriously, she said “I only take your clothes.  You’re the one that makes me feel protected.”

 

Kieran held her, breathing the scent of her hair.  “Then you take whatever you want, Na.  I want you to feel loved, because you are.  You’re so precious to me,” she murmured, thinking how deeply she would grieve if Naomi didn’t beat this illness.

 

Naomi stayed in her arms until Kieran eased her away.  “I’m ready for my concert,” she smiled at the young woman.

 

________________

 

Kieran stretched on the couch, Kathryn sat in an overstuffed chair, Geejay played with her stuffed animals in the floor and Seven worked at her desk.  Naomi put on a grand performance, and Kieran was truly impressed with the Ktarian’s talent.  She was improving by leaps and bounds, and her skill was considerable.  Kieran loved to be serenaded this way, and Kathryn seemed uplifted by the music, too.  Kathryn and Seven had given Naomi the piano for her latest birthday, and Naomi had played every day since then, teaching herself to read music.  She took lessons on the holodeck, too, and had already performed several recitals for the crew.  Kathryn was quite proud of her daughter, and when Naomi played a lament, that evening, Kieran saw Kathryn wipe away a tear or two. 

 

Kieran closed her eyes, letting the music take her away.  She drifted off to sleep, exhausted from holding Naomi sleeplessly the night before in sickbay.  When the music stopped, Kieran partially awakened, and Naomi insinuated herself into Kieran’s arms, joining her on the couch, stretching against her.  “Hey,” Kieran hugged her close.  “That was wonderful, Na.  You’re so talented,” she said softly.  “Are you feeling okay?”

 

Naomi snuggled into her arms.  “Tired. Engineering has been awful, lately.  You saw,” she murmured.

 

Kathryn glanced over at the two women, cuddling on her couch, and thought her heart would break.  Their friendship had always been so strong, and their time, now, seemed so short.

 

“You have to make sure you don’t overdo it, okay?” Kieran urged her.  “Promise me, Na.”

 

Kathryn had tried, unsuccessfully, to extract just such a promise from her daughter.  She was stunned when Naomi acquiesced immediately to Kieran’s request.

 

“I promise, KT.  I want to make sure I have enough energy to beat you at Velocity, at least once a week,” she said happily.  She kissed Kieran’s cheek, whispering so Kathryn wouldn’t hear, “I love when you hold me.  I’m not afraid, then.” 

 

Kieran turned her head, saying as quietly as she could, “Are you very afraid, usually?”

 

Naomi nodded slowly.  “I’m afraid sometimes that I’ll just--fade away in my sleep.  Never wake up again.”

 

Kieran reflexively tightened her grip on the smaller woman.  “Oh, Na, that must be scary,” she agreed sympathetically.

 

“I slept better last night than I have in weeks,” she added.  “Thank you for staying with me.”

 

“If it helped you, then, I’m glad I did,” Kieran squeezed her.  “Is the medication helping today?”

 

“My joints hurt pretty badly, but otherwise, I’m okay.”

 

Kieran eased them both up.  “Let me rub you down.  I bet a little extra circulation in your muscles might ease the discomfort,” she offered.

 

“Are you sure?” she was feeling guilty for asking for attention at all, let alone attention that required physical exertion.

 

“Sure,” Kieran agreed.  “You can stretch out on the couch, or if you think you might want to fall asleep, we can go in your room, so you’re already in bed.”

 

“I’m pretty wiped out.  Let’s go in my room,” she decided.  “K-Mom,” she got up and kissed Kathryn’s cheek.  “I love you.  Good night.”  She made her way to Seven, and kissed her as well.

 

“Kato?” Kathryn looked up at her tall friend.  “Thank you.  She seems happier tonight than I can remember seeing her in a very long time.”

 

Kieran nodded.  “Can I replicate some massage oil?  I think there’s a pattern in the system for a really good liniment,” she remembered.

 

“Of course.  Help yourself,” Kathryn smiled at her. 

 

__________________

 

Kieran worked Naomi’s muscles with warmed oil, careful not to be too rough with her delicate skin, but wanting to manipulate the tissues firmly enough to get the blood flowing, and ease the pain she was in.  Naomi lay face down on her bed, bare to the waist, letting Kieran’s hands soothe her suffering.  She groaned appreciatively at the sinews that complained loudest, and Kieran smiled knowing she was able to help in some small way.  She felt vertebra aligning beneath her touch, felt joints give as relaxation settled into them.  Naomi breathed softly, feeling better than she had in days.

 

“Your hands are so strong,” she murmured, feeling her muscles go liquid beneath the penetrating motion.

 

Kieran felt such overwhelming tenderness welling in her chest, she thought she might cry.  “Do your legs hurt, too, sweetie?” she asked softly, working her way down Naomi’s body.

 

“Always.  Especially my hips and knees,” she admitted.

 

“Okay, then,” Kieran hesitated momentarily.  “Um--you’re going to have to take off your shorts, if you want me to use oil on your hip joints,” she was slightly embarrassed. 

 

Naomi shed them without pause.  “Okay,” she yawned, completely at ease with Kieran’s hands on her bare ass.

 

Kieran stretched and bent her legs, loosening the joints, then rubbed them each in turn with generous amounts of oil, letting the healing properties of the liquid penetrate her skin.

 

“Oh, God,” Naomi grunted.  “That’s the first time in days they haven’t ached,” she smiled gratefully.  “What did you do?”

 

Kieran smiled warmly, working her hamstrings.  “Nothing special.  Just a massage.”

 

By the time she had worked her way to Naomi’s delicate feet, the Ktrarian was snoring.  Kieran smiled with satisfaction.  That was exactly what she wanted to happen.  She pulled the sheet and the comforter up over Naomi’s bare back side, tucking the covers around her to keep her muscles warm and pliant.  She kissed the back of Naomi’s head, whispering, “Sleep well, Wildwoman.  I love you.”

 

Kathryn was still reading in the living room when Kieran emerged, walking carefully, so as not to awaken Naomi.

 

“Did she conk out?” Kathryn grinned.

 

“Oh yeah, works like a charm every time,” Kieran flexed her hands to demonstrate their prowess. “She was knotted like a rope swing, though,” she sank down on the couch.  “It must be so painful.”

 

Kathryn set her book down, rubbing her eyes.  “She wakes up screaming a lot.  That’s always reassuring,” she said sarcastically.  “How’s life in the cargo bay?”

 

“You mean my luxuriously appointed quarters?” Kieran laughed.  “It’s fine. I told you, I don’t need much.”

 

“As soon as something becomes available, I’ll let you know,” she promised.  “It may take some reconfiguring.”

 

“Then leave it, Kat.  I don’t mind, and I don’t want to disrupt the whole ship.  Besides, I may end up sleeping in Naomi’s room, if she has her way.  She’s pretty frightened by all of this.”

 

“I know.  Seven has slept with her more than a few times.  It’s disconcerting to wake up in pain and alone,” Kathryn said softly. “If she wants you here, it’s fine with me.  I want her to get whatever she needs.  Besides, her bed is nicer than any cot,” Kathryn smirked.

 

Kieran nodded.  “Well, speaking of cots, I’m going to sleep on mine now.  I’m whipped,” she said, getting up. “Good night, Kat,” she kissed the top of Kathryn’s head, letting herself out.

 

She was making her way along the corridor when B’Elanna stepped off the turbo lift, carrying their sleeping daughter. “Hey, Benal,” B’Elanna greeted her, smiling.  “Were you looking for me?”

 

“Sorry, no,” Kieran replied honestly.  “She looks heavy, and you look beat.  Let me take her for you,” she scooped Katie out of B’Elanna’s arms, heading for their old quarters.

 

“Thanks.  She weighs a ton.  Kid does nothing but eat,” she stretched her back.  She keyed the entrance to her quarters, letting Kieran deposit Katie in bed.

 

“Good night, warrior-diva,” Kieran whispered to her daughter, kissing her baby curls. 

 

B’Elanna watched her from the doorway, thinking how long it had been since Kieran had been home.  “Would you like something to drink?  Wine maybe?” she asked Kieran hopefully.

 

“Uh--I’d better not, Lanna.  I haven’t slept in a couple of days, and I really need to get some rest.”

 

“Two days?” B’Elanna was incredulous.  “Why not?”

 

Kieran shrugged.  “I stayed in sickbay last night, with Naomi,” she explained.  “She slept, I didn’t.”

 

“So you know she’s sick, then,” B’Elanna nodded.  “I wondered when she would break down and tell you.”

 

Kieran hung her head.  “I can’t believe it.  It’s so unfair.”

 

B’Elanna agreed.  “She’s a trooper, KT.  Keeps coming to work, when I know some days, she just feels awful. And her work is still impeccable, as always,” she added.   

 

B’Elanna gazed up at her wife, swallowing hard. “You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Kieran,” she began.  “I think we need to talk about us.”

 

“Lanna,” Kieran shook her head.  “I don’t think there’s anything to say.  It’s become crystal clear to me what our problem is,” she rested her hands on B'Elanna’s shoulders.  “I’m a lesbian.  And you’re not.  And that leaves us with no choice but to dissolve the marriage.  I love you, and I always will, but I can’t be with you.  Being with you is not fair to you, or what’s best for you.  And it’s not fair to me.  I want a lover that thinks my anatomy is up to the task.  I don’t want to second guess.  It may not be Tom Paris you need, but I really believe a woman, for you, is like half a sandwich.  You’ll always be hungry for the other half.  I have no hard feelings about it.  It was just a mistake for us to be together, and I take half the blame for the break up. I want you to be happy, but honey, it’s not going to be with me.”

 

B’Elanna stood there, heart aching, wanting to say something, anything to change her mind.  “Kieran,” she swallowed hard.  “Don’t do this.  I love you.  I do not want a man.  I swear to you.”  Even as she said the words, she knew they were a lie, but she felt the loss of her spouse so acutely, she simply couldn’t be honest with Kieran or herself.

 

Kieran smiled, kissing B’Elanna’s cheek.  “BangwIj,” she said gently.  “You’re kidding yourself.  I saw you with Tom Paris, and Lanna, he was dry fucking you on that pool table.  You were ready to let him take you then and there.  I saw Tristan Garrett slinking out of your quarters, one Sunday morning, and you had a bloody wound on your throat.  You can tell yourself all you want that you love me, or you love women, but in the final analysis, you’re going to end up with a man.  I would suggest you find someone who can handle two women, because you probably won’t be satisfied unless you have both.  But that’s not ever going to be me.  I want a woman, and I want her to think I am everything the world has to offer.  I’m not willing to share, and I’m not willing to compromise on that.  Please, just sign the divorce papers, honey.  Let it go.”

 
“I can’t,” B’Elanna started to cry.  “I love you, KT,” she let Kieran take her in strong arms, breaking down.  “Please don’t leave me.”

 

Kieran kissed her forehead, wishing for all the world she could change things.  “I’m sorry.  But I left you a long time ago, and I’m not coming back.  There’s no way to work this out, so don’t keep hurting yourself, Lanna.  You deserve to be happy.  You say that you love me.  If that’s true, then do what’s best for me.  Let me go.  Let me be with someone who really wants me.  Someone who can give me the exclusivity and the love I need to be happy.”

 

“Is there someone else, now?” B’Elanna asked hollowly.

 

“No.  There may not ever be anyone else, Lanna.  The point is, there could be.  So you have to do what’s right, here.  I did,” she urged her.  She held her for long moments, remembering their life together, firm in her resolve, sorry for the loss.  “Take care, love,” she kissed her forehead once more.  “Be well.”

 

Kieran let herself out of the quarters they had shared, thinking how it still smelled like home.  But it wasn’t home anymore.

 

Back in the Cargo Bay, she crawled into her solitary bed, the greenish glow from Seven’s alcove pulsing in the distance.  Seven was regenerating, eyes closed, hands at her sides.  Kieran couldn’t resist taking a closer look, and got back up, stepping up onto the platform, leaning on the rails.  She studied Seven of Nine’s face, struck by how beautiful she truly was. 

 

Kieran thought about what Kathryn had said.  And she prayed.

 

“Dear God,” she whispered.  “Don’t take Naomi from Seven and Kathryn. Please.  I can’t stand the thought of seeing this gorgeous woman cry.  And as a Counselor, I’m not adequate to the task of helping her get over that kind of loss.  So if you exist, I’m begging you, don’t do this.  I’ll give up any hope of a real relationship, every chance, if you’ll do this for them.  Please, God,” she asked fervently.

 

_________________

Kieran met Naomi for dinner for the next four nights, spending as much time with her as Naomi asked for, always making the effort to do new and different things with her, trying to be attentive to her needs.  Kieran felt like she was really getting to know Naomi, as one adult to another, and they talked about things more openly than they ever had before.  They took Tessie and Katie to the holodeck for a Trevis and Flotter adventure one night, and Kieran was struck by how it had only been two or three years before that she’d taken Naomi on just such a holodeck adventure.  They shared another evening walking in the arboretum, played Velocity the next, and the next, they spent in a beach program, swimming together and walking along the water’s edge.  Naomi seemed to be doing better, and she seemed much more alert and happy.

 

They fell into a comfortable pattern of Kieran meeting Naomi in Engineering every afternoon, where they would plan the rest of the evening.  Naomi was careful to leave time after their outings to be with Seven and Kathryn, and the four women usually ended their evenings together. 

 

Kieran was feeling better about her decision to break from B’Elanna, although B’Elanna still cast imploring looks her way when she came to retrieve Naomi every day.  Kieran knew time would make it easier, and she felt she had done her best to make a clean break from B’Elanna, without any loose ends or reasons for false hope.  She thought about it daily, and the longer she was apart from the dark-haired Klingon, the more certain she felt that she had made the only choice.

 

Engineering was in a state of relative calm this afternoon, meaning there were no critical alarms blaring.  The staff was working hard, and the place was a mess, but for once, there were no hissing conduits and oozing gel packs.  Kieran found Naomi calibrating a plasma manifold, humming to herself, unaware of her observer.  Kieran watched her working, struck once again by how much Naomi had changed in the last year, and painfully conscious of the strain the changes had put on the Ktarian’s body.  Naomi hadn’t had an episode since the night Kieran stayed with her in sickbay, and Kieran was optimistic that it might signal a change in Naomi’s health.

 

Naomi glanced up from her work, spotting Kieran studying her.  “Hi KT,” she waved her over.  “Have you been here long?”

 

Kieran shook her head.  “Not long.  Are you ready to go?”

 

“Almost finished,” she agreed, making the final adjustments.  “Let me put my tools away,” she scrambled off the floor, and immediately keeled over again, dizzy. 

 

Kieran caught her, easing her back to the deck.  “Naomi?” her voice was low and urgent.  “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah,” she sank against Kieran.  “Let me get my bearings. I’ve been dizzy all day.”

 

Kieran held her protectively, waiting for the unsettled feeling to pass.  “Better now?” she asked tenderly, kissing Naomi’s hair.

 

“Much,” she agreed.  “Let’s try this again,” she let Kieran hoist her off the floor.  “I think I should go by sickbay, just to let the Doctor check me over.”

 

“Good idea,” Kieran kept Naomi firmly under her arm, walking her along the corridor.  “I was thinking we could try a different approach to your joint pain, today,” she said as they walked along. “I think a hot tub might help ease some of the tension.  I programmed one on the holodeck, if you’d like to try it out.”

 

Naomi smiled up at her.  “You’re always so thoughtful.  I must be wearing you out, you have to work so hard at keeping me pain free,” she noted.

 

“Nope, I’m rested and ready,” Kieran assured her, leading her into sickbay.

 

The Doctor performed the usual scans, making notes of the changes.  “This is much, much better,” he said aloud, checking her against the baselines he had established.  “Your maturation rate has not just leveled off, it actually may be decreasing.  Naomi,” he peered into her eyes.  “Think very carefully about what has been different, this week.  Have you eaten anything different?  Changed your routine?  Worked with anything substantially different?  It’s very important.”

 

Naomi smiled up at her companion.  “I’ve spent all of me free time with Kieran, that’s different,” she said.  “Work has slowed down a little.  We haven’t had nearly so many gel packs die on us this week, and I’ve been working on routine ship’s maintenance instead of trying to stay on top of system failures.  I had Chinese food,” she recalled.  “I can’t think of anything else, though,” she added.

 

He took thorough notes, trying to solve the mystery. “I want to know if anything changes in any of those areas,” he said, tapping his PADD.  “Be as cognizant as you can of the details, because something is making you better, suddenly.  You seem to have stabilized, on the cellular level, at least for now.  I’d put your age at about twenty,” he checked his tricorder again.  “Maybe twenty-two.  That means you should be done with any big growth spurts, and you shouldn’t get much taller.  That might mean your bones will settle down.  Your heart still needs to grow, though, and that is concerning.  Your blood pressure isn’t normal.  That explains the light headedness.  Still, overall, you’re improved over last week.  How is the pain?”

 

“Not good,” Naomi admitted.  “I take a lot of medication for it.”

 

“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up.  You’re free to go,” he finalized his notes.

Naomi hopped off the biobed, feeling relieved. 

 

Kieran smiled down at her, taking her hand.  “I think the hot tub, and maybe dinner while we soak.  How does that sound?”

 

“Like heaven,” Naomi grinned, squeezing Kieran’s hand.

 

They walked to the Captain’s Quarters, so Naomi could get her swimsuit and a towel.  The quarters were empty, as Kathryn and Seven tended to work past the end of Alpha shift most of the time.  Kieran sat on the couch, waiting for Naomi.  She returned momentarily, dressed in her swimsuit, carrying one of Kieran’s old sweatshirts.

 

Kieran tried not to stare, but Naomi was stunning, and she couldn’t force herself to look away.  “You’d better put on some shorts and that sweatshirt, or it won’t be safe to walk through the ship,” she advised her young companion, grinning at her.

 

Naomi flushed with pleasure at the compliment.  “I guess it looks okay, then?”

 

“You’re straining my mechanical heart,” Kieran teased, clutching her chest.  “Can I ask you something?” she held out her hand, beckoning Naomi to sit beside her.  “Do you remember when you told me that you’ve felt a real need for more physical contact, since all of these changes began?”

 

“Yes,” Naomi nodded.  “And you were very understanding and sweet to me.  It was hard to admit.”

 

“Am I giving you enough?” Kieran asked sincerely, her brown eyes soft with concern.

 

Naomi nodded emphatically.  “You’re great.  I feel very pampered with you.  Seven is really good about it, too.  I don’t even need to ask, anymore, because now that I’m sick, she’s physical with me all the time.  It’s like she’s trying to fill her tank, before I’m gone,” she speculated.

 

Kieran swallowed hard.  She hated it when Naomi said things like that, but she knew the assessment was accurate. 

 

“Okay.  I just want to be sure you’re getting what you need.  Don’t be afraid to ask, if there’s something I’m not coming through on.  Promise?”

 

“I promise,” Naomi agreed.  “Let’s go by the Cargo Bay and get your suit,” she took Kieran’s hand.  

 

________________

 

Kieran took Naomi camping that weekend, because it was one of Naomi’s favorite recreations.  The woods were deep and peaceful, cooling and refreshing, and they spent hours talking and swimming in the lake.  Naomi made Kieran tell her all about the alternate universes she had visited, and now that Naomi was an adult, Kieran didn’t have to edit the details about her counterpart’s sexual relationships with their various partners.  Naomi was fascinated by the permutations of the relationships, and although she had heard many of the details before, the story seemed to come to life for her, more.  She was especially intrigued that her mother, Samantha Wildman, had been Kieran’s colleague in the reality where Kieran married Kathryn, and she couldn’t get over her mother being lovers with Chakotay.

 

She told Kieran about her experience on Grailen, what she had been thinking, how she had tried to find Kieran at the hotel, what she had felt about the whole situation with Seven and Kathryn.  She told Kieran how much she had wanted B’Elanna and Kieran to take custody of her, because Kathryn was just being so unreasonable.  Kieran apologized again for being so unaware of all that Naomi had been going through, and not responsive to her at all.

 

When the fire died that evening, they slept tangled up together, trying to stay warm in the dark, cold forest, surrounded by sleeping bags and blankets and each other.  Naomi always slept best when she wasn’t alone, and with Kieran cradling her, she felt no fear.  She sighed happily, thinking she could die in her sleep and be content, as long as Kieran held her. 

___________________

 

The respite that Engineering got from the deteriorating ship was short lived.  Two weeks later, the gel packs started to fail at an alarming rate, and whole systems had to be taken off line for repairs.  Naomi spent hours swapping out damaged packs for newly replicated ones, and the energy drain on the ship was critical.  Rations had to be cut back, which had the crew grumbling, but gel packs were more important than food.

 

In the midst of all the crises, Naomi relapsed, and the Doctor was growing more certain that it had something to do with the ship’s deteriorating parts, but he couldn’t make the exact connection.  He finally mandated that Naomi stop working in Engineering, to see if that made a difference in her exacerbating and remitting symptoms.  She took two weeks off duty, but the vacation didn’t change anything, so she returned to work.

 

Months went by that way, with Naomi feeling normal for days at a stretch, and then getting violently ill.  The longer it went on, though, the less she was able to bounce back from the illness.  Kieran started to note that Naomi’s hair had lost its luster, her fingernails were brittle, her skin was drying out, and the shine was gone from her lovely hazel eyes.  Kieran did her best to put aside her own feelings, redoubling her efforts to be strong for Naomi, to be whatever the Ktarian needed her to be.

 

Kieran hoarded her rations, so that she always had plenty to provide extra treats for Naomi, whose appetite came and went with her symptoms.  Kieran replicated smaller uniforms, hoping no one would notice she was dropping weight, and off duty, she wore baggy sweats that hid the protruding ribs and angular scapula.  She relied on the menu the Doctor had given her months before, when she had developed an ulcer, and using those recipes, she kept her own ration consumption to two a day.  That way, when the only thing Naomi could keep down was ice cream, Kieran made sure she got all she wanted.

 

Kieran kept up with her Counseling schedule, using all her time in between clients to devise new ways of distracting Naomi from the pain she seemed to be in so often.  They spent a lot of time in the hot tub program, which seemed to soothe Naomi’s aches, and Kieran had become an expert masseuse.  She started sleeping at Naomi’s most nights, so that if Naomi awakened with cramping legs or aching hips, Kieran could ease her suffering.  Kieran slept fitfully, always cognizant of Naomi’s body language.  A sudden shift in a leg position signaled an oncoming muscle spasm, a groan meant hip pain, an arching back meant a cramp in her shoulders, and Kieran conditioned herself to respond to each indicator by waking up and tending to Naomi’s difficulty.

 

Naomi confronted her illness with grace and dignity, never complaining, unless the pain became unbearable.  She trusted Kieran and Seven for everything, in those times, letting them nurture and care take, because she had no choice but to do so.  When Naomi felt healthy enough, Kieran took her on all sorts of outings in hiking and camping holoprograms, to museum simulations, even for flights in the Delta Flyer when Voyager lost warp power due to system failures.  They surveyed astronomical phenomena with Seven as part of an away team, with Kieran as the pilot of the team, and it was Naomi’s first official away mission.  Naomi always knew if she could come up with an adventure, Kieran would try it out. 

 

Kieran programmed every restaurant she had ever loved and introduced Naomi to Thai, Cajun, Indian, Mexican, and Jamaican foods, some of her favorites, which used up the bulk of her rations, but seemed a worthy use of the credits. 

 

Naomi felt like whole new worlds had been opened to her, looking at life through Kieran’s eyes, and everything seemed like a novelty to her.  They packed years of experiences into months, each aware that they might not have much time, but committed to making the most of whatever they got.  Kieran became more attached to Naomi than she had ever been to another human being, and she found in being a caretaker, she became a better person, more present in the moment, more able to love and to trust, and more secure in her ability to rise to the challenge of being a support system for her loved ones.  Kieran and Seven became closer than ever, in their shared love for Naomi, and at times, it felt as if they were the parents, and Kathryn was a bystander more than a participant.  For all their love and effort, though, the illness took it’s cumulative toll, and the remissions grew shorter and shorter.

 

____________________

 

Kieran had always loved flying, whether it was on a parasail, a hot air balloon, or a starship.  The Santa Fe hot air balloon festival was an annual extravaganza of colorful and bizarre balloon designs, hundreds aloft at once, and she had always wanted to go.  The holodeck became her avenue, and she and Naomi Wildman sailed among the field of entrants, using a wide scope to get a glimpse of all the balloons hovering over New Mexico's landscape. 

 

The air was cold and thin up this high, and Naomi shivered in the brisk embrace of it. Kieran smiled down at her, wrapped her in a fond hug, and pointed to a balloon shaped like a shuttle craft.  “Look at the detail on it,” she said in Naomi's ear, smiling broadly. 

 

“It looks very accurate,” she agreed.  “Have you ever been to the real event?”

 

Kieran shook her head.  “No. I didn't get to travel much as a kid.  I finished high school early, so my summers were spent working out and studying.  I entered the Academy at 16.  I got to take a couple of trips with friends when I was at Starfleet, but mostly diving and surfing excursions.  Of course, I traveled with the team, but then we were always locked up in an arena to practice and play.  There's so much I want to see if we ever make it home.”

 

“I hope I live to see it, myself,” Naomi murmured. “I guess that's pretty far fetched, though,” she added, leaning into Kieran.

 

Kieran closed her eyes, chest constricted.  “I won't believe that,” she insisted.  “There's got to be an answer to this illness,” she tried to convince herself as much as Naomi.  “How are you feeling, sweetie?”

 

“Tired,” Naomi admitted.  “This was a good program for today--nothing strenuous,” she smiled warmly at her companion. “The balloons are beautiful.  Thank you for sharing this with me, KT.”

 

Kieran gave her a light squeeze.  “When we get home, we'll go to the real thing.  There are so many places I want to take you, Na.”

 

Naomi nodded, though she doubted they would ever have such an opportunity.  She knew how badly her condition was deteriorating, and though she didn't let on, Kieran knew, too.  It was a conspiracy of silence they shared, because it allowed them both to function with some semblance of normalcy.

 

__________________

 

Noah Lessing stuck his head around the corner of Kieran’s anteroom, peering into the Counselor’s office.  She sat staring out the window, watching the star field around them, which was currently motionless because the warp engines were offline again.  Kieran sighed, thinking about Naomi.  The sick feeling inside never seemed to go away, now.  She mentally logged every loss, every setback in Naomi’s condition, increasingly cognizant of how frail her friend was becoming, and helpless to do a thing about it.

 

“KT?” Noah said softly.

 

Kieran spun in her chair.  “Hey, bud,” she stood up, surprised to see him.  “What can I do for you?”

 

Noah helped himself to a seat.  “I—uh—I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about Naomi.  B'Elanna told me she’s a lot worse now.  How are you holding up?”

 

Kieran shrugged.  “As well as you’d expect, I suppose.   It’s killing me, but I can’t get caught up in that.  I have to function.  I have to stay clearly focused on what I can do to ease her suffering.  And I have to be strong for her.  But thanks for asking, Noah,” she said sincerely.

 

“About the Spring Fling—” he started to explain.

 

Kieran held up her hand.  “I’m sorry, bud, but I just can’t go there.”

 

“I need to apologize, KT,” he insisted.  “I know you’re hurt that I didn’t validate who you are, and that I tried to turn you into someone you’re not,” he urged her to acknowledge his regret.

 

“I am hurt,” Kieran replied.  “I’ve always been totally open with you about everything.  You know me better than anyone on this ship,” she emphasized.  “And it’s like you just decided to ignore all the things I told you about myself, because you didn’t want me to be who I am,” she shook her head.  “I thought we had this great friendship, and that I was safe with you.”

 

His eyes darkened.  “And now you don’t feel safe?”

 

“How can I, if you’d rather change than embrace my sexual identity?  How can I ever feel like you really know me, love me and accept me for who I am?” she held out her hands, imploring.  “Now I’m afraid to be close to you, because if I touch you, you might read something into it that’s not there.  If I confide in you, how do I know you’ll hear what I say, and not just what you want to hear?”

 

Noah folded his hands, wringing them together.  “Kieran, please believe me when I tell you you’re safe with me.  I won’t misinterpret anything you do.  I know who you are, and I do love you for that person.  I admit, I wish you could love me differently, but you can’t, and I won’t pretend you can.  It was a stupid, stupid mistake on my part, and I’ve done nothing but kick myself ever since.  And I stayed away so long because I needed to get my head clear about you, and because I wanted to gain enough distance to also gain perspective.  I miss you, KT.  Can’t we hang out together, like we used to?” he pleaded, dark eyes flashing.

 

Kieran sighed.  “Right now, I just don’t have time.  Naomi needs me, bud, and I need to spend my time with her.  She’s a lot sicker than she lets on, and I don’t know how long—”  she pressed her hand to her mouth, suppressing her grief.

 

“Oh, man, KT, I’m sorry,” he came around to her side of the desk, pulling her into a hug.  “Jesus, I didn’t know it was that critical.  She’s really bad?”

 

Kieran nodded silently.  “If you have anything you want to say to her, Noah, you’d better do it.  Soon.” 

__________________

 

Carlsbad Caverns yawned in the ground ahead of them, the mouth gaping from the side of the hill.  Kieran steadied Naomi by holding her arm as they descended the steep walkway to the entrance of the cave.  The holodeck did an outstanding job of mimicking the damp, musty smell of the cave, which was a combination of the scent of water, lime, bat guano, and various fungi.

 

“It's not as splendid as the Rainbow Caves,” Kieran warned, hoping Naomi wouldn't be disappointed, “but it has some amazing stalactite and stalagmite formations,” she advised. “If this trail gets too grueling, tell me, and we'll either rest or go back, okay sweetie?”

 

“Okay,” Naomi smiled up at her.  “You know, KT, you never have to apologize that these things you're sharing with me won't live up to my expectations.  I'm really enjoying seeing the world--and the Earth--through your eyes.  I'm glad the database has so many of the locations programmed in.  I feel like, even if I never get to see Earth, I've been there.”

 

Kieran smiled warmly at her.  “That's the whole idea, Na.  I want you to see how wonderful home is, since it's going to be yours, someday.  Kathryn and Seven thought it was a good idea, too.  If Seven could spare the time from pulling duty shifts in Engineering, she'd be right here with us.”

 

They walked through the dimly lit caverns, finding the main exhibits better illuminated further down in the bowels of the earth, marveling at the formations hidden beneath the meters and meters of desert above them.

 

“There's so much of our own planet we've never even explored,” Kieran breathed, thinking about the oceans, the Antarctic, the center of the earth.  “It's like we jumped to space before we even got our bearings,” she observed.

 

Naomi slipped her hand into Kieran's, just to assure herself of the Counselor's presence beside her.  The darkness seemed enveloping, and it reminded her of the nightmares she had, which seemed to take place in dark forests, the dark of night, and dark starships.

 

“Are you okay?” Kieran stopped along the trail, peering down at her friend.

 

“It's weird.  I feel sort of--claustrophobic, I guess,” she admitted.

 

“I can increase the illumination, or discontinue the program, if you like,” she offered, taking Naomi into her arms.

 

Naomi rested against her, drawing a calming breath.  “No, I'm good.  I just needed to feel you for a second,” she relaxed again. “I don't like the dark very much, lately.”

 

Kieran resumed their trek to the lowest levels of the cave, arm firmly around Naomi's shoulders.  “Tell me about that, some more,” she encouraged the Ktarian.

 

“It's--partly the nightmares, but I also associate darkness with death,” she confided.  “I guess when I think about dying, I think it's the absence of light, of laughter, of love and companionship. I imagine that dying is entering a state of total darkness, and fading to nothingness there,” she explained, her voice tremulous.  She wrapped her arm tighter around Kieran's waist.  “I don't want to die, Kieran,” she said softly.  “I'd feel so much better if you could walk me into the darkness, and wait with me, just like now.  I wouldn't be so scared, if I could hold your hand until I disappear.”

 

Kieran's throat thickened, her chest aching.  There were no words that could suffice in the face of such incomprehensible circumstances. They came upon a bench, just then, and Kieran drew Naomi over to it, taking the slight woman into her lap, hanging on in silent prayer. 

 

“You know I'll stay with you to the end, Na.  If there's a way, I'll walk you to the end of the tunnel,” she promised, clinging to her. “But I think of it so differently. I imagine death as this huge, open meadow, with sunshine and tall waving grass, where the energy of pure light and life gather and commune.  I imagine Cassidy is there, waiting for me, ready to welcome me, to help me make the transition to that state of being. I believe she is still there, somehow, loving me and watching out for me.  And she'll help you, because she knows how important you are to me.  And your Mom will be there, waiting, too. That's how I picture it--not an end, Na.  A beginning of a different state of consciousness.”

 

“Cassidy--she was your sister, right?” Naomi asked softly.

 

“Yeah,” Kieran affirmed.  “She died when I was eighteen,” she said grimly.

 

“I like your version of death better than my version,” Naomi held tight to her.

 

“You know why I think that's how it is?” Kieran asked softly.

 

“No, why?” Naomi kept her face hidden in Kieran's neck, smelling the faint scent that always lingered in Kieran's clothes.

 

“Because I've been there,” she replied simply. “When you were kidnapped, and that Maltanian blew my chest open.  That's where I went,” she shivered in the darkness of the cave. “You know what?  Let's bag this musty old cave, and run something more cheerful--and I'll tell you all about it, if you don't think I sound like I've gone Suder.”

 

“Could we go back to the Cargo Bay and curl up on your cot together?  I just need to crawl into your arms, right now,” she said timidly.

 

“Always, sweetie,” Kieran promised her.

 

They walked together hand in hand, making their way to the Cargo Bay, neither speaking.  Once inside, Kieran propped up three oversized pillows and drew Naomi into her arms, cuddling her. Naomi lay against her chest, one arm slung across her.

 

She sighed contentedly.  “This is how I feel safest,” she murmured, sinking into Kieran's embrace.  “So you died, when that Maltanian shot you?  You died because of me?” Naomi asked.

 

“Yeah,” Kieran admitted. 

 

“You never told me that,” Naomi breathed, lifting her face to study Kieran's expression, making sure she wasn't teasing.

 

“I've never told anyone. I didn't want everyone to think I was crazy,” she smirked.  “Somehow, it's easier to tell you things than it is anyone else, because I know you don't judge me,” she decided. “But that's what happened. I saw the  Maltanians materialize, and I ran toward you, and I shouted your name. Then I felt this intense blast of heat, and a searing pain, and I remember looking at my chest, and thinking, 'Shit.  My chest is gone,’” she laughed lightly. “And your name echoed in my head, as if I were shouting it from inside a cave, and then I wasn't in my body anymore.  I was floating above it, watching B'Elanna trying to help me, asking me to stay with her and not die.”

 

Naomi's eyes were wide.  “Then what?” she demanded, enthralled by the images.

 

Kieran took a shuddering breath. “It gets creepy, for a few seconds,” she warned.  “I was on the Maltanian ship, looking for you, because I wanted to kill those bastards for hurting you,” her eyes darkened, recalling the frustration. “The lead scientist had you on a table, and I could hear his thoughts, and he wasn't even going to sedate you before he started his experiments.  I put the thought in his head that you would die if he didn't give you something for the pain, and he did it,” she breathed shakily. “That was all I could do,” she hung her head.  “I'm so sorry, Na.”

 

“KT,” she touched Kieran's face, “you did help me.  He did sedate me. If he hadn't--oh, my God,” she shuddered, “it would have been unbearable.”

 

Kieran hugged her tightly, willing away the images of her captivity.  “All of a sudden I was being pulled down this tunnel, and there was a light in the distance, and I was just rushing along it.  Looking back, it was a lot like traveling in an interspatial corridor, like when I got stuck in that spatial rift,” she realized.  “I emerged into this wide open field, rolling green hills, wild flowers, blue skies, blazing sunshine, and everything just seemed to pulse with life.  Cassidy was there, and the second I came out of the tunnel, she engulfed me in her arms, and it was like our energies just swallowed each other up,” she was still awed by it.   “I got to talk to Cassidy for a long time.  It was so great,” she sighed, remembering how comforted she had been.

 

“What did she say?” Naomi felt a slight ray of hope. Maybe death wasn't so ominous, after all.

 

“She told me she loved me, and she's okay, and she's happy where she is. She told me Mom and Dad needed me, still, and Voyager will make it home someday, and I had to go back into my body so I could live out my life.  She showed me things--" Kieran started to get choked up.  "My funeral, when they found out Voyager was missing," she related. "She showed me Katie--and Na, that was before B'Elanna and I were even involved. She told me I would have several children, and I had to go back to fulfill that, and not to despair, because Voyager would be home by the time I reached my 34th birthday.   She told me I had already met my soul mate, and if I thought really hard about it, I would realize who she is,” Kieran recalled.  She had thought, at the time, Cassidy meant B’Elanna, but now she knew that wasn’t so. Kieran sighed. 

 

“She also promised me she is always with me, only a thought removed, and all I ever have to do is ask for her intercession, and she will be there.  And I just felt so uplifted, Na.  It was so healing and so intense, and it was like Cass was inside my soul, and we could just feel each other that way.  Like she was blanketing me with her love and her essence--that's the only way I can describe it.”

 

Naomi considered for a long time.  “Do you think my Mom will really be waiting for me?” she whispered.

 

“I'm sure of it, honey,” Kieran supplied. “I'm sure she is with you all of the time, and like Cassidy, she is only a thought removed. You can still talk to her, and she'll hear you. Cassidy told me that on the other side--where she is--they can see our future at any given time, and although it changes all the time, although it's not absolute, I mean, they can see certain events with absolute clarity. Like her knowing Voyager will be home before I'm 34. So your Mom would know parts of your life with clarity--maybe she knows you'll beat this illness, or she knows who you'll marry, or she can see your children.  I don't know, Na, I took a lot of comfort from the experience.  And even though I knew I had died, I wasn't afraid, because Cassidy was right there with me.  The hard part was having to come back.  I didn't want to. It was so beautiful, there, and I was so happy.  It was really depressing to have to come back into a damaged, failing body, but Cass promised me it would be worth it, and I would find great happiness if I would only accept my path and go walk it.”

 

“I'm glad you came back,” Naomi assured her, thinking how rich her own life had been because she had. “I couldn't have gotten through these past few months without you, KT. You and Seven.  It's like you guys have just carried me when I was too sick to walk.  You've been my strength, and my life raft, and my support system,” she acknowledged gratefully.

 

“I’m glad, too, Na,” Kieran agreed.  “I wouldn’t trade this time with you for anything.”

 

Naomi clutched at Kieran’s shirt reflexively, not wanting to let go of life or of her friend.  “I wish--” she began.

 

Kieran squeezed her.  “Wish what, honey?”

 

“I wish the Doctor would figure out a way to stop this from happening to me,” she admitted.  “There are so many things I’m missing,” she sighed tiredly, for once allowing herself the indulgence of feeling sorry for herself.

 

Kieran knew Naomi so well, followed her moods and her body language so easily, she knew the Ktarian needed to unload all of her heartaches.  She also knew she had to find the strength within herself to listen, even though it would be hard to take.  She squeezed Naomi to her body, wishing she could take the illness away.  “Tell me about the things you’re missing, sweetheart,” she said softly, fighting the catch in her throat.

 

Naomi rested her head on Kieran’s shoulder, snuggling into the familiar warmth and fragrance.  “It’s the little things, you know?” she began sadly, thinking of the millions of experiences she would never have.  “And it’s the huge things.  Everything from seeing a real sunrise to having my own children,” she elaborated.  “I’ve never been on a date.  I don’t have my pilot’s license.  I’ve never made love.  I’ve never heard Geejay say a grammatically correct sentence.  I haven’t met my mother’s family, or Gran, or Phoebe.  I suppose I should think about all the things I have done, and all the places I’ve seen, and all the people I love.  I know I’ve been lucky--I especially know that, now that I’ve heard Tessie’s horror stories--but somehow, I still feel--cheated,” she admitted wistfully.  “Is that the most selfish, petty thing you’ve ever heard?” she asked in self-reproach.

 

Kieran closed her eyes against the pain that seemed to fill her constantly, now.  “Honey, it is not selfish or petty.  You are being cheated.  I wanted all of those things for you, too, and so much more.”  She shifted her weight on the hard cot, hoping Naomi was comfortable.  Naomi bruised so easily, now that she couldn’t keep any bulk on her bones.

 

“What did you want for me?” Naomi was curious.

 

“Everything,” Kieran replied immediately.  “Happiness, fulfillment, a loving partner, a family, all the dreams you’ve ever dreamed--I wanted them all to happen for you.  I wanted to be there to see your first love, your first commission, your first commendation, your first born.  I wanted to be your cheering section,” she said fondly.  “I’d give my own future, if I could trade it for yours,” she said sincerely.

 

Naomi grinned.  “You were my first love, Kieran,” she laughed lightly.  “So you didn’t miss everything.”

 

Kieran chuckled.  “Well, I’m flattered, but that’s not quite what I meant, Na,” she smiled warmly, kissing her hair as she cradled the Ktarian’s tresses in her palm. “I had always envisioned sitting around with the Moms, having coffee, and you’d come barreling through the door all bright eyed and blushing, your hair all mussed, and you’d tell us in a faraway voice about the boy or girl you’d just kissed outside the door.  You’d tell us how cute he or she was, and we’d tease you, but you’d be too in love to care about the kidding,” she described it for her friend.  “I had always imagined I’d be your confidante, the one you told everything to--all about him or her, and your hopes for the relationship.  I imagined I’d stand up with you at your wedding, someday, and I’d take your partner aside in private, and give them ‘the speech’.”

 

Naomi giggled.  “The speech?”

 

Kieran laughed, her chest shaking.  “Yeah.  You know the one.  It goes something like-- ‘I want Naomi to be happy and I love you both, but if you ever hurt her, I will kick your ass.’  Only much more menacing sounding,” she teased.

 

“I like the way that sounds,” she admitted.  “Guess you won’t get the chance to ever defend my honor, though,” she said sadly.  “There won’t be any cute boys or girls outside my door, or wedding dresses, or babies,” she sighed.  “I won’t get the chance to solve the slip drive problem, or to find the solution to the gel pack deterioration, or to do any of those things.”

 

“I haven’t given up on those things, yet, Na.  I believe the cure will still come.  I have to believe that, because I can’t stand the thought of losing you,” she kissed Naomi’s hair affectionately.  “I keep asking Cassidy to help you.  I think she will.”

 

“KT?” Naomi asked softly.  “I know it’s hard for you to talk about it, but I appreciate that you understand that I need to,” she rubbed Kieran’s chest gently, the faint caress tender and grateful.  “I want you to promise me you’ll take care of the Moms, when I go.  Okay?”

 

“You know I will, Na,” she assured her, her eyes misting.

 

“And I want you to promise you’ll never forget me, or how much I loved you,” she said sincerely.

 

Kieran swallowed hard, nodding.  “I’ll remember, love,” she murmured.

_______________

 

Kieran Thompson labored in the afternoon sunlight, wearing khaki hiking shorts, a scant tank top, and wielding an axe as long as the lanky Counselor’s legs.  Woodchips flew everywhere as she chopped firewood, sweat pouring down her back and soaking her top.  Naomi Wildman sat in a folding chair by the fire pit, wishing she had the energy to help Kieran, but enjoying the sight of the Commander’s muscular arms and legs.  Kieran was, in Naomi’s estimation, a specimen of physical perfection, so at ease in her body, so graceful when she moved.  Kieran would have laughed at that, because she considered herself gangly and awkward, but to Naomi, the Counselor was elegant and beautiful in a simplistic sort of way.  Naomi could watch her for hours, letting her imagination wander. 

 

The tent was pitched, the sleeping bags spread inside, and all that remained was the fire and dinner.  Kieran smiled over at the strawberry blonde.  “Almost done,” she promised, going back to her task.

 

Naomi waved, filling her eyes with Kieran’s body, memorizing the curve of deltoids, the roundness of her biceps, the flexion of her arms as she swung the axe over her head and brought it crashing down on the logs before her.  Splinters sprayed out from the blade as Kieran exhaled into the blow, her meager chest heaving.  Naomi had never found fuller breasts, like her own, attractive.  She much preferred Kieran’s subtler endowment, which seemed infinitely more practical and less cumbersome.  She also suspected that smaller, firmer breasts were more sensitive to touch, and she found that idea intriguing as she watched the Counselor’s tank top clinging to her sweaty torso. 

 

Naomi couldn’t define any particular ‘type’ of person she found attractive, per se.  In fact, she realized, she had never been sexually attracted to anyone but Kieran Thompson.  She could look at other people and find them appealing, but it was nothing more than acknowledgement and appreciation.  With Kieran, it was so much more. 

 

Kieran gathered the pile of cleanly split wood and carried it over to the fire pit, stacking it neatly for later use.  As she bent to place it on the ground, Naomi gazed at her buttocks, the way her shorts accentuated them, the soft swell beneath the canvas fabric threatening to peek beneath the legs of her pants.  She shivered, thinking about running her hands over that flesh. 

 

Kieran was oblivious to Naomi’s attraction, turning and smiling at her.  “I think that made me stinky.  I’m going to cool off in the lake.  Do you want to come?”

 

Naomi didn’t even try to hide that she was looking the Counselor up and down.   “I didn’t bring a suit.”

 

Kieran waggled her eyebrows.  “You know me--I never do.  I love to skinny dip.  If we go now, we can just catch the last light,” she stuck her head inside the tent, grabbing towels.  “Believe me, sweetie,” she laughed, “you don’t want to sleep with me after I’ve been chopping wood.  I reek.”

 

Naomi laughed at her.  “Okay.  Did you get a towel for me?”

 

Kieran nodded, dashing for the lake, peeling off her tank top as she ran.  She lay the towels on a log, folded her shirt, removed her bra, and fumbled at her belt.  Naomi followed her, watching her undress, wishing she could be the one slipping those shorts down over slender hips.  Kieran was already in the lake by the time Naomi had her shoes off.

“The water is great,” she called out, floating on her back.

 

Naomi was transfixed by the sight of Kieran’s breasts, breaking the surface of the water, her head thrown back in the lake, eyes closed, arms beneath her head.  Naomi forgot to undress, too captivated by the woman in the lake to recall what she was supposed to be doing. 

 

After a long while, Kieran uprighted herself, treading water.  “Is something wrong?” she asked, moving closer to shore.

 

Naomi shook her head, and herself mentally.  She stripped off the rest of her clothes and waded out into the lake.  “It’s really warm,” she murmured, surprised.

 

Kieran grinned.  “For once, I programmed it for your comfort, and not for realism,” she teased her companion.

 

“I appreciate that,” Naomi scowled at her.  “You usually have me freezing my nipples off,” she bitched.

 

Kieran quirked an eyebrow, unable to resist the opening.  “That would be a tragic loss,” she oozed innuendo, grinning wickedly.

 

Naomi blushed furiously.  “You do that on purpose,” she accused, swimming up to her companion.

 

Kieran feigned innocence.  “Do what?”

 

Naomi reached out and dunked her head under the water.  When Kieran bobbed to the surface again, laughing, Naomi said “You flirt with me shamelessly, just to get me flustered.”

 

Kieran grinned at her.  “Can’t help it, Na,” she tread water vigorously.  “You’re so pretty when you blush, it’s total incentive,” she splashed her friend playfully.

 

Naomi splashed her back, and soon, they were practically drowning one another.  Kieran snatched Naomi’s hands to stop the assault, and the Ktarian was far too weak to put up much resistance.  Kieran supported her in the water then, holding her hands.  “Let me do the work, sweetie,” she offered, treading for both of them.  “I don’t want you to tire out.”

 

Naomi smiled inwardly, thinking two could play the flirtation game.  She withdrew her hands from Kieran’s, twining her arms around Kieran’s neck, pressing her nakedness against Kieran’s.  “I’m already tired,” she lied, feeling Kieran’s body reflexively stiffen.

 

Kieran swallowed hard.  “Okay, I’ve got you,” she wrapped Naomi in her arms, albeit reluctantly.  “Maybe we should get out, if you’re too beat to swim, ” she stammered, rattled by the sensation of the gorgeous, naked woman in her embrace.

 

Naomi looked up at her, grinning.  “Oh, no, I think we should stay just like this,” she said suggestively, making it clear she was getting Kieran back for the nipples remark.

 

It was Kieran’s turn to blush.  “You--well, you sneaky little trollop,” she accused, laughing and pushing Naomi away. “I thought you were all worn out,” she accused.

 

“You had it coming, you tramp,” Naomi splashed her, laughing deep in her chest.

 

Kieran splashed her back, and another battle ensued.

 

They swam and played and wrestled and laughed until the sun sank below the tree line.  The cooling air forced them out of the lake to make a fire to keep warm.  Kieran held out a towel for Naomi to step into, wrapping her tightly in it, then enfolding her in a hug.  “Let me get you warm,” she offered, seeing the Ktarian was shivering.

 

Naomi closed her eyes, feeling the enveloping arms, wishing the moment could last forever.  “Thanks, KT,” she whispered.  “You always take such good care of me.”

 

Kieran kissed her hair tenderly.  “You’re easy, sweetie.  You never complain and you’re always grateful for everything I do,” she said honestly.  “Are you hungry?”

 

Naomi sighed, not wanting Kieran to let her go.  “You know me--I have to force myself to eat, and nothing really ever sounds good.  But somehow, you always get me to eat,” she laughed.  “I can’t figure out how you do it, exactly.”

 

“It’s a gift,” Kieran bragged.  “Come on,” she sat Naomi down on the log they had used to drape their clothes on.  “Let me get your boots back on, so you don’t step on anything nasty heading back to camp,” she squatted in front of her, putting her socks on.

 

___________________

 

The fire climbed high into the blackness of the sky, illuminating the campsite and Naomi’s features.  Kieran sipped her coffee, watching the shadows playing on Naomi’s cheeks, taking inventory of the changes in the younger woman’s countenance over the past few months.  Naomi was painfully thin, and the only way Kieran could really get her to eat was if she made one plate, and they both ate from it.  She subtly fed Naomi with her fingers, so that the intimacy of the process made Naomi forget she was ingesting food.  She had such difficulty with her appetite, that if she thought about the food itself, she couldn’t eat, so Kieran had to distract her, talking the whole time, slipping bites in her mouth when she wasn’t really cognizant of it.

 

“Taste this,” Kieran would say, “it’s wonderful,” and she would put some tidbit in Naomi’s mouth, and immediately start talking about something else, so Naomi wouldn’t realize she was eating.  In that way, Naomi kept from starving to death, and Kieran helped her overcome the persistent nausea that plagued the young woman.  Kieran had learned early on in the caretaking process what foods stayed down, what foods would not, and what tastes and textures were easiest to sneak by the wary palate.  She stuck to various kinds of fruit, pastry, sweet breads, ice cream, and cereal. Dishes that had protein had to be disguised in sweet sauces or sweet rice, so that Naomi could get them into her system.  Sweet things tasted better coming back up, and if they stayed down, they were rich in calories.  Kieran replicated everything fortified, so that foods were packed with nutrients to keep Naomi as healthy as possible.  Naomi had no idea how conscious and calculated the effort was, and would have been stunned if she had known.

 

Naomi was bundled in a blanket, seated beside the Counselor, leaning against her.  “Dinner was good,” she commented.  “This is a great program.”

 

Kieran smiled.  “You look tired, honey,” she advised her.  “I think we’d better turn in early, instead of staying up half the night gabbing.”

 

Naomi pouted slightly.  “That’s half the fun of camping,” she pointed out.  “Besides--we’re both off tomorrow.”

 

Kieran knew it wasn’t worth arguing over.  “Okay, it’s up to you.”   She knew the young woman would fall asleep as soon as they laid down.

 

___________________

 

Naomi sat up in the tent, tying back the long tresses of her hair, preparing to go to sleep.  Kieran watched her in the dim light, the ceiling flap of the nylon structure unzipped to let moonlight come into the enclosure.  Naomi was breathtakingly beautiful, Kieran realized, even in the throes of a life threatening illness.  Kieran hugged her knees to her chest, wriggling her toes under the sleeping bag.  They always took three rectangular bags, zipping one completely out and open beneath them, so they could hold each other for warmth, and zipping out the other two to pull over them.  Kieran always brought a thick air mattress, now, because Naomi couldn’t stand the hard ground beneath her bones.  The tent felt as luxurious as a grand hotel room, with all the padding and blankets and pillows.

 

Kieran watched Naomi’s preparations, memorizing the expression on her face, smiling at the methodical way she bundled her hair, at the ever-present sweatshirt that had once belonged to Kieran, and at the soft contours of her lovely face. 

 

“You’re staring,” Naomi didn’t even have to turn to know Kieran was looking at her.

 

Kieran shrugged.  “So?”

 

“Why?” Naomi demanded, finishing her hair and lying back on the mound of pillows.

 

“Making sure I remember,” Kieran explained, her voice thickening.  She lay beside her friend, gazing into her hazel eyes.

 

Naomi reached for her hand.  “I feel relatively good today, so don’t fret,” she assured her.  

 

Kieran squeezed her fingers companionably.  “I’ll try not to,” she agreed.

 

Naomi studied her expression, wondering what was going on inside the Counselor’s head.  She touched Kieran’s cheek gently.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Kieran stopped the faint caress, grasping Naomi’s hand in her own, kissing her fingers.  “I just love you, that’s all,” she admitted.  “Sometimes it hits me just how much, and it’s startling.”

 

Naomi smiled softly.  “Good, because that’s how I feel, too.  And I have something I want to ask you to do for me.”

 

Kieran smiled expectantly.  “Okay. Shoot.”

 

“The Doctor says I’m a lot worse,” she began, organizing her thoughts.  “I still have all my faculties, for now, and while I do--I--” she hesitated, not able to meet Kieran’s eyes.

 

“What, honey?” Kieran prompted her.

 

Naomi swallowed her fear.  “You’re the only person I’ve ever been in love with.  I don’t want to die having never--I want you to--” she floundered, unable to say the words.  “Will you--kiss me?” she asked faintly.  “Just once?” she added, embarrassed by the request.

 

Kieran turned over, hovering above the younger woman, peering down at her, lost in her eyes, frightened by the implications, but unable to think of a single reason why she should deny her something so basic and so innocent.

 

“You’re sure?” she asked the Ktarian, suddenly nervous and self-conscious. 

 

Naomi met her gaze, nodding slowly.

 

Kieran cupped Naomi’s cheek in her hand, gradually closed the distance between them, and brushed her lips softly over Naomi’s.  She intended to keep it very brief, and as platonic as possible.  But Naomi clearly wanted to be kissed as if Kieran meant it, and she followed the tentative overture by taking Kieran’s head in her hands and returning the kiss with heat and passion and tenderness, her mouth insistent and questioning.  Kieran lost herself in the moment, forgetting the boundaries between them, deepening the kiss with purpose.  Kieran felt Naomi’s surrender, her lips parting beneath Kieran’s, felt Naomi’s soft exhalation and her unconcealed desire as she tangled her fingers in Kieran’s hair, responding with the gentle intrusion of her tongue between Kieran’s lips. 

 

Kieran pulled away from her, gathering her into encompassing arms and gazing at her with clear intent.  Kieran draped her body over Naomi’s, pressing her against the bedding, kissing her once more, no longer tentative or hesitant, lips searching, tongue questing, body yearning.  Naomi trembled beneath her, the response immediate and unbridled, fingers once more grasping the spiked strands of Kieran’s hair, mouth yielding, seeking, increasingly needful. 

 

Kieran balanced her weight on her forearms, careful not to crush the fragile woman beneath her, turning them over so that Naomi was on top, conscious that Naomi should be the one to lead, the one to assert how things should stand between them. She broke the kiss as they moved, giving the control over to Naomi.  The Ktarian dropped her face to Kieran’s once again, kissing her passionately, suddenly the aggressor.  She sucked suggestively at Kieran’s bottom lip, running the tip of her tongue over it, exploring the soft contours of the older woman’s mouth without any trepidation.  Kieran sighed into their kiss, aroused by the forwardness of Naomi’s manner, surprised by it, amazed at her instinctual insight.  Naomi did not seem inexperienced and she was anything but shy, her kisses determined and decidedly seductive.  She breathed warmly in Kieran’s ear, biting her earlobe gently, fluttering her tongue over the delicate outline of cartilage, sighing and moving to her throat.  Kieran’s hand cradled Naomi’s head, and she arched upward, exposing her neck completely, letting Naomi tease and tempt her with carefully tempered nips and bites along the slow curve of her flesh.  Kieran whimpered inadvertently, her pulse pounding beneath Naomi’s lips, gasping faintly as Naomi sucked at the articulation of her jaw and neck.

 

Kieran’s control was slipping, her boundaries blurred and her body’s demands asserting themselves beneath Naomi’s willing mouth and hands.  Naomi kissed her forcefully, moving suggestively against her, insinuating her leg between Kieran’s, feeling the heat rising off of her body.  Kieran groaned as inquisitive fingers slid beneath her shirt, finding her breasts, her chest filling as she gasped for enough air to maintain some semblance of control.  Soft fingertips fondled her nipples, and she was lost to any awareness of propriety.

 

“Naomi,” she murmured, turning them over again, her mouth everywhere at once.  “I love you,” she whispered, ravishing Naomi’s throat, making the smaller woman writhe with aching need.  “I want you,” she growled against Naomi’s skin, tongue skating over the sinews of her neck. 

 

“God, Kieran,” Naomi clutched at her back, offering herself fully as she wrapped her legs around Kieran’s body, her hands tugging at Kieran’s shirt to move it up and off of her muscular frame.  “Please,” she shuddered, easing the fabric up to her shoulders.

 

Kieran obliged by taking the confining garment off, then removing Naomi’s shirt, as well.  “I want to feel you,” she breathed, the ache obvious in her tone.  “God, please, let me make love to you,” she took Naomi’s breasts into her hands, cradling them gently, lips enfolding one nipple with liquid heat.

 

Naomi cried out, arching beneath her mouth.  “I want you to, Kieran, I need you to,” she begged, her body suffused with desire.  “God,” she gasped, feeling Kieran’s tongue fluttering over the distended nub, “oh, Kieran,” she groaned, the sound pained and desperate. 

 

Kieran lavished attention on her breasts, reveling in the fullness, in the sounds that came from her lover, in the heat of her response.  Careful fingers slid beneath the fabric of Naomi’s panties, brushing over swollen lips, teasing.  Naomi moved beneath her touch, whimpering.  Kieran pushed the undergarment down to her thighs, leaving it there, fondling her tenderly.  “You’re beautiful, Naomi,” she told her, fingers parting her lips, stroking through the warm, slick fluid.  “I love you so,” she closed her eyes against the emotion, easing her panties further down the curve of her thighs. 

 

Kieran pushed the sleeping bags back out of the way, undressing her lover completely, then laying back down on her, fingers entering her easily.  Naomi drew her legs up to allow the penetration, eyes locked with Kieran’s, trusting her completely.  Kieran smiled at her.  “I want you to stop me if anything hurts, Na,” she said softly, kissing her deeply, fingers sliding in and out of the depths of her.

 

Naomi shivered, her body willing.  “It feels wonderful,” she gasped.  “I want--oh, Kieran, please,” she urged.

 

“I know, baby,” Kieran whispered, kissing a heated path to her thighs and parting her legs with her face.  “Trust me, now, love,” she breathed on Naomi’s folds, then took the thick flesh into her mouth, sucking softly and parting the cleft with the tip of her tongue. 

 

Naomi’s hips lifted reflexively as she groaned, legs trembling.  “Oh, God, Kieran,” she was on the verge of tears. 

 

Kieran enclosed her clitoris with careful lips, using the faintest of touches of her tongue to stroke the distended knot, feeling Naomi surge into the caress.  A few delicate flicks and Naomi was coming, crying out and holding Kieran’s head against her thighs, sobbing unapologetically as the waves carried her out of control.

Kieran moved over her, taking her into loving, welcoming arms, kissing her forehead, her face, her lips.  “My beautiful Naomi,” she breathed, “my sweet, sweet, love,” she started to cry, aware of how little time they had to be together.

 

“Kieran,” Naomi shook with emotion, clinging to the older woman.  “I love you so much,” she confided, spent from the intensity of their first time.