Synopsis: The sixth installment of the Raising Naomi series, and the beginning of the second five-story arc. When Kieran gets caught in a spatial rift, she ends up in several different realities, each more challenging than the last. If you haven’t read parts 1-5, this story will induce spatial psychosis.

Rating: R for women loving women, fairly graphic sexual situations, and some particularly creative cussing from Naomi Wildman.

Disclaimer: In any universe, parallel or otherwise, Paramount owns Voyager and all its inhabitants with a couple of exceptions. No copyright infringement is intended and nobody pays me for this stuff, so hopefully nobody will sue me over it either.

Acknowledgements & Background: Thanks to the members of the USS Fletcher, who are always willing to read what I write. Special thanks to Captain Starbuck, who is not only the Captain of the Fletcher, but the Captain of my heart, and who lent invaluable assistance and inspiration to this story and several of its predecessors. She was especially adept at helping me explore the ways in which a nine year old child might manufacture expletive phrases. I also owe a debt of thanks to Jim Wright, whose Delta Blues web site is the definitive source for Voyager plots and reviews, and whose writing is a guaranteed slap-your-thigh guffaw per paragraph. And a big thanks to LZ Clotho and Captain Starbuck for beta reading this for me.

Although moving from Arizona to New Hampshire dang near qualifies as two different worlds, I’ve never been in an alternate universe, at least, not that I know of. (And if I had, I’d hope to hell my alternate selves might be less of a wise-ass than I am.) However I’ve always been fascinated by the thought that the slightest change in a decision at a crucial juncture in one’s life could change the whole outcome; hence, this story. On another note, if you’re thinking the Kieran-Janeway pairing is the ultimate Mary Sue, think again. If I were gonna go Mary Sue, it’d be with Seven of Nine or Gabrielle from XWP, ‘cause they are the women who float my boat, color outside my lines and make me sigh.

 

Kieran Redux

By Ensign Mika

 

Kieran Thompson-Torres slid behind the conn of the Delta Flyer, punched in the pre-launch sequence of commands, and hailed the bridge.

"Delta Flyer to Voyager. Request permission to launch."

Captain Kathryn Janeway stood on the bridge, smiling. Kieran was her dearest friend, and had trained long and hard for this moment. She was very proud of the young Lieutenant, and eager to see her succeed in this final test of her piloting skills. "Granted Lieutenant," she replied warmly. "Good luck."

"Thank you, Captain. Departure in five…four…three…two…one…Delta Flyer is away."

"Onscreen, Harry," Janeway ordered. The view screen sprung to life with an image of the Delta Flyer, which Kieran was piloting through a series of standard maneuvers in order to obtain her flight certification. "Looking good," Janeway muttered to herself. "Mr. Paris, it looks like your pupil has blossomed under your instruction," she complimented the fair-haired helmsman, who puffed up with pride.

"She was a quick study, Captain," he replied, schooling his face to humility. "I just hope you’re not going to replace me," he teased.

"Only if you’re going to start taking on counseling sessions," Janeway replied, laying an approving hand on his shoulder. "Voyager to Delta Flyer. Initiate evasive maneuvers pattern Alpha three," she barked. She thoroughly enjoyed proctoring exams for her senior officers, especially since she was blessed by such a bright, ambitious staff. She watched Kieran’s ship dodging and darting and rolling with careful precision as she put the Lieutenant through her paces. "Initiate attack pattern Delta," she ordered. "Shields up, Mr. Tuvok."

Kieran banked the ship abruptly and turned as if to attack Voyager. The shields were a mere precaution, in case she lost control of the Flyer, so that the two vessels could not collide. Kieran laid down a spate of phaser fire which bounced harmlessly off of Voyager’s shields. "Nicely done, Lieutenant," Paris commented under his breath. "Very nice. I’d have never gotten that close to the shields. Gutsy," he said with admiration.

"Voyager to Delta Flyer," Janeway opened the channel once more. "Execute the Jellico maneuver."

The bridge officers gasped collectively. The Jellico maneuver was considered an advanced piloting technique that only the most skilled of pilots would attempt. No one who had ever tested for Janeway had been asked to perform it. Tom had never even had Kieran attempt it in simulations. But sure enough, the Delta Flyer went to warp on Janeway’s command, gathering the distance needed to execute the sequence. When the Delta Flyer came roaring back into common space with Voyager, Tom had to consciously unclench his hands on the conn.

The ship banked and rolled and as Kieran used the resistance of Voyager’s shields to alter her own course, the Delta Flyer shuddered and screamed under the g-forces created by the maneuver. She held it steady, teeth gritted against the sound, legs tense with the strain of holding her body in the pilot’s seat.

"Amazing," Tom whispered to himself.

"You can say that again," Janeway agreed. "I thought she’d spin out after she glanced off our shields."

The bridge crew burst into spontaneous applause as they watched the Delta Flyer maintain its attitude control despite the difficult sequence it had just been through.

"Do you hear that, Lieutenant?" Janeway’s chest swelled with pride for her friend. "Those are your adoring fans."

Kieran laughed with happiness. "Thanks, crew," she was getting a little misty eyed. "Permission to return to the ship, Captain?"

"Permission granted, Helmsman," she replied, indicating the test was over. "You may take your flyby."

The tradition for all pilots, since the ancient days of Top Gun on earth, was to take a ceremonial flyby of the mother vessel after a successful mission. Kieran was elated as Voyager dropped its shields and allowed her to pass in close proximity to the ship.

Down in the mess hall, B'Elanna Thompson-Torres and Naomi Wildman watched with great relief as they saw the Delta Flyer shoot past the view ports. The assembled crew erupted in a cheer as the Flyer zipped by, and Naomi hugged B'Elanna. "She did it, Lanna," Naomi murmured with admiration. "She pulled off the Jellico!"

Kieran’s spouse fought to keep her voice steady. "She sure did, Na. She sure did."

As the Flyer came back around to make its final approach to the shuttle bay, Harry Kim noted an anomalous reading directly in its path. "Captain!" he shouted over the congratulatory comments of the bridge crew, "I’ve got a spatial anomaly forming off the starboard nacelle. The Flyer is headed right for it."

"Kieran!" Janeway shouted, "Alter course, evasive pattern Theta!"

But the Delta Flyer, despite competent piloting, winked out of existence as the evasive maneuver failed to steer it clear of the anomaly.

"She’s gone, Captain," Harry said with no small amount of frustration.

_____________

Kieran Thompson Torres had seen the spatial rift threatening to swallow her up, but the evasive maneuver had sent her well beyond the maw of that tear in the space-time fabric, or so she thought. Voyager was still on her sensors, and she turned back toward the shuttle bay. "Did you see that, Voyager?" she asked, her voice trembling with the adrenaline that besieged her.

"That was a close call, Lieutenant," Janeway replied. "Return to the ship immediately. I don’t want anyone out there, ‘til we get a better idea of what the hell that thing was."

"Understood, Captain," Kieran replied tersely, hightailing it back to the ship.

When she landed the Flyer, she leapt out of the cockpit, expecting to find B'Elanna waiting for her. Instead, it was Kathryn who ran toward the Lieutenant, throwing her arms around the startled Counselor. "Darling," Kathryn clung to her tightly. "That was too close for comfort," she murmured next to Kieran’s ear. "You scared me."

Kieran hugged her back, though she thought Kathryn’s choice of endearments was a bit odd. "It’s okay, Kat," she reassured her Captain and best friend.

Kathryn touched her face tenderly. "Not with me, it’s not. I don’t want you that close to danger, not ever," she whispered, tears in her eyes. She stood on tiptoe to reach the tall Counselor’s lips, kissing her softly.

Kieran’s eyes flew open. Kathryn kissed her again, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She gently pulled away. "Kat, tell me something," she chuckled. "Do you greet all your senior officers with such open affection?"

Janeway laughed. "Only you," she promised, kissing the tall Counselor again.

Kieran’s head was fairly swimming. "We need to talk, Kathryn."

Janeway winked up at her. "I’d rather not talk, just now," she insinuated her thigh between Kieran’s legs.

"Kathryn!" Kieran pushed her away.

"Oh, since when did you become Little Miss Propriety?" the auburn haired woman teased. "You certainly didn’t have any objections to my—ahem—attentions, this morning."

"Listen. I don’t know who you are, but you are NOT Kathryn Janeway," Kieran protested. "The Kathryn Janeway I know would never act like this. I’m a married woman."

Janeway looked suspicious, as if she were sure Kieran was toying with her. "Yes, you are married. To me."

Kieran’s eyes grew even wider, if that was possible. "I’m—you’re—Kathryn, something is very wrong here. I am not married to you. I’m married to B’Elanna Torres. And you are married to Seven of Nine."

Kathryn threw back her head and laughed. "Seven of Nine? The Borg? Oh, yeah, right," she howled with hilarity.

Kieran frowned, biting her lip. "Let’s talk in your ready room, Captain. I think that anomaly displaced me in space and time. I’m not the Kieran Thompson you think I am."

Now Kathryn was concerned. "I think you should see the Doctor, Lieutenant. You’re acting rather strangely. Did you hit your head when you came upon that spatial rift?"

"No, I did not hit my head. I’m telling you, Kathryn, I’m in the wrong place. In my reality, you are married to Seven of Nine. You have two children with her. And B’Elanna and I have a child together. She’s named after you. You’re my best friend, but you are not my wife."

Kathryn regarded her wife with a discerning eye, and decided the lanky young woman was not kidding. "Come on, Counselor. I want the Doctor to check you over. And then we’ll get to the bottom of this. I, for one, am going to hope you did hit your head."

_________________

The Doctor ran every scan he could conceive of running, but found nothing to indicate that Kieran had injured her head. "I’m sorry, Captain, but the only thing I can see in her physiology is that she is slightly out of temporal synch with us. I think she really is from another timeline."

Kieran crossed her arms triumphantly. "I told you, Kathryn."

Janeway was flabbergasted. "Well then, what do we do to get this straightened out? Somewhere out there, my wife is lost. And your Voyager is looking for you."

Kieran smiled consolingly. "I’m just as freaked out as you are, Kat," she touched the older woman’s arm. "But we’ll get through this. Seven of Nine and B’Elanna will know what to do about getting me back to my timeline."

Just then, Ensign Samantha Wildman entered sickbay, holding her arm. "Doctor? I need your help," the pretty blonde woman beseeched the medical hologram. "I think I broke it."

Kieran did a double take. "Holy shit," she muttered, looking at Sam.

Janeway’s eyes narrowed. "What’s the matter?"

"Sam Wildman is dead in my timeline," Kieran explained in a whisper. "Naomi is your adopted daughter. When Sam got injured, you and Seven took over parenting responsibilities for Naomi, and that’s how you and Seven fell in love."

Kathryn set her lips in a grim line. "Let’s go home. I want to hear all about this other timeline. We’ll have Seven and B’Elanna meet us there to talk about this dilemma."

"Don’t you want Tuvok and Chakotay there too?" Kieran asked.

"Not now. Not yet," was all she said. "Let’s go, Lieutenant."

____________

"You have your assignments, then," Janeway instructed the Borg and the Chief Engineer. "Report back within the next two hours."

B’Elanna Torres had not been told anything about Kieran’s timeline, nor had Seven. It was just as well that they not know.

"Captain Thompson?" B'Elanna queried. Kieran was stunned to hear her name being used to address the Captain.

"Yes Lieutenant?"

"I have an appointment to see the Doctor in an hour. Do you want me to cancel it?" B'Elanna rubbed her very distended stomach, ripe with Tom Paris’ child.

"Of course not, B'Elanna. Your daughter might have something to say about it, if I make you postpone it," she squeezed the Engineer’s shoulder.

Kieran stared wordlessly at the Klingon, unable to believe that B'Elanna could be married to Tom Paris. And pregnant with someone besides Katie. It floored the Counselor to even consider it.

Janeway saw her subordinates to the door, then turned back to the Counselor. "Are you okay? That couldn’t have been easy for you."

"I’m handling it. But tell me, why did she call you Captain Thompson? Did you take my name?"

"It’s Janeway-Thompson, but I didn’t feel like making my crew spit our four syllables just to get my attention, so I allow them to shorten it."

Once the two women had left, Kieran felt vulnerable alone with this woman, who clearly thought of her as her wife.

"God, it’s so weird to be here without Naomi and Seven," Kieran commented as she stretched out on the sofa in the Captain’s Quarters.

"You’re seriously telling me that in your timeline, Seven and I are married?"

Kieran smiled. "Yes. And you have a baby girl named Gretchen. Naomi has lived with you for about three years. Gretchen is adorable, Kat. She looks just like Seven."

Janeway strode purposefully to the replicator. "I need a drink. Would you like one?"

"Just coffee," Kieran replied.

Kathryn looked upon her estranged wife piteously. "Now I know you aren’t my Kieran," she commented wistfully. "You hate coffee." Janeway replicated a scotch and soda for herself, black coffee for the Counselor.

Kieran got up and went to her Captain. "I’m sorry, Kat. I know this must be upsetting for you. It is for me, too," Kieran lightly gripped the smaller woman’s shoulders.

Kathryn took a brisk pull at her drink. "I just keep thinking, what happens if you can’t go back?" she started to pace, refusing to meet Kieran’s sympathetic brown eyes. "I look at you, and I see the woman I fell in love with—the woman I married. And then I look into your eyes, and see nothing there for me. And it cuts me to the bone," she admitted, knocking back the remainder of the numbing alcohol.

Kieran felt her throat closing with sadness. "In any timeline, Kat, I’d never hurt you, not on purpose." The lanky Lieutenant returned to the couch, arranged her long legs as comfortably as she could, and patted the cushion beside her. "Come tell me how we met. In my timeline, B'Elanna introduced us at a cookout. It was at the end of your honeymoon with Seven."

Kathryn had to laugh, though it came out sounding bitter and hollow. "I can’t get over that one. Seven of Nine and me? Not in a million years," she shook her head. She joined her wife on the sofa. "There was a scientific project you were working on with Sam Wildman. I went to the exobiology lab to check on her progress, and she had you explain part of your research to me," Kathryn leaned back against the sofa, remembering. "You were so informal. I mean, you were a lowly Ensign in a menial position on my ship, and there I was, the Commanding Officer, and you actually joked with me during your report. I was totally charmed," she grinned. "I asked you to my quarters for dinner, under the pretense of being interested in your work. I got more than I bargained for."

Kieran grinned fondly at her friend. "How so? Did I move in that first night?"

Kathryn snorted. "Hardly. I asked you about your ambitions. You said you didn’t really have any. I was less than impressed with you. I thought you were just—getting by, not really contributing to the ship or crew. But I pressed you, and you started opening up a little. I managed to drag out of you that you had applied to the Counselor Training program at the Academy, and that you had worked under Deanna Troi. That impressed me, but it also pissed me off, because here in our midst, we had a viable candidate for a Counselor, and no one had ever realized it. And you had never approached anyone about your qualifications. I was steaming mad at you by the time we got to the second course of dinner," she confided.

"So how in the world did we end up married?" Kieran was chuckling now. "I mean, you thought I was a total deadbeat, taking up resources on your precious ship. You must have hit an all-time low if you asked me out again," she teased.

"I didn’t ask you out again. I made you Ship’s Counselor, over your very vocal protestations. You tried to refuse the position, and we nearly came to blows over it," Kathryn was laughing gently as she remembered those early arguments. "At one point, you finally got fed up with my criticism of your reticence to step up to the plate and promote your own career, and you read me the riot act," Kathryn wiped her eyes, the rumbling laughter rolling through her chest. "You very correctly pointed out that it wasn’t your job to sell yourself or your skills, but it was my job to take the time to know my crew well enough to utilize them best. I believe you said it wasn’t your fault if I was leadership challenged."

"Oh my God. I said that?" Kieran was incredulous. "And you didn’t toss my ass out an airlock?"

"How could I? You were absolutely right. And I respected you for standing up to me."

"But how did we end up together romantically, after getting off to such a horrid start?" Kieran was enthralled by the story.

Kathryn unconsciously took the Counselor’s hand as she recounted their history. "I apologized to you for being such an arrogant ass. And I believe I said something along the lines of wanting to start over, because with you as Ship’s Counselor, we would have to work closely together, and we needed to understand each other."

"Wow, that’s some pickup line, Kat," Kieran teased her. "I bought that?"

Kathryn swatted her playfully. "I was being sincere, Kato," Janeway inadvertently called the Counselor by the nickname she had used with her spouse, then blushed. She cleared her throat, grateful the lovely woman beside her didn’t ask about the nickname, and continued her tale. "You said you would give me another chance, but only if I would let you take me for a day at the beach. I knew it was a grave error in judgement, but I let you talk me into it. We went parasailing. I damn near broke my neck. You thought it was hilarious that I almost tumbled to my death. After you rescued me, anyway."

"Oh shit. I almost got you killed, and was amused by it?" Kieran was shocked. "I’m not like that, Kat—I swear."

"It’s okay. I imagine I did look fairly comical, with the parasail whizzing out of control and me plummeting like a rock. I came down hard, but you maneuvered down as graceful as you please, landed beside me, and kept me from drowning. You spent more time apologizing than laughing, though you did laugh in my face. I think that’s when I knew you were perfect for me."

"When I was laughing in your face?" Kieran was perplexed.

"Yes," she affirmed. "Because I knew you could be involved with a starship Captain and keep your cool in a crisis. I knew you wouldn’t panic over my safety. It takes a special kind of person to risk loving someone who is in charge and often in danger. You were the one for me," Kathryn gazed lovingly at the brown haired woman.

"So you knew I was the one. Did I know you were the one, too?"

Kathryn laughed again. "No. Not until after the parasailing accident. You were still pretty peeved at me for how I had treated you. It took you a long time to get over it. We did become friends, and you were content to keep it that way. I, on the other hand, was bound and determined to have you. I made a real campaign of romancing you."

Kieran finished her coffee. "No way. You wooed me? Kathryn Janeway wooed someone?" she asked playfully.

"I know, I know, I was completely ridiculous, but damn it, I was in love. Not only were you the best company I had kept in years, you were a tremendous challenge. I set out to win you over, and I just made myself so necessary in your life, eventually you had to recognize you loved me too."

Kieran took Kathryn’s glass. "Want another?" Kathryn nodded. "So who made the first move?" Kieran waggled her eyebrows at the Captain.

"I did, of course," Kathryn replied indignantly. "You never would have. You were too busy trying to deny you wanted me."

"I’d love to be able to see it happening," Kieran admitted. "I just can’t imagine it. In my timeline, Kathryn Janeway is my best friend, but there’s no sexual chemistry there at all. At least," Kieran’s face was suddenly serious, "not that I know of."

"You’d be surprised," Kathryn said almost inaudibly. She sighed, accepted another drink from her companion, and studied the glass intently. "You and I didn’t have any palpable chemistry either, not at first. But one night, I invited you, Sam Wildman, and Chakotay over for dinner. Maybe it was seeing them together that gave you ideas—"

"Wait—Sam and Chakotay were involved?"

Kathryn nodded. "They still are. They live together. Anyway, they were a new couple then, and very devoted to one another. They were going through that ‘can’t keep their hands off each other’ phase, and it seemed to have some softening affect on you. Maybe it made you realize what you had been missing yourself. Or maybe—I don’t know. But after they left, you stayed behind, supposedly to help me clean up. You were dumping dishes into the replicator and I snuck up behind you and slipped my arms around your waist. When you turned around, I kissed you. And after that, chemistry was never a problem for us."

Kieran hid her face in her second cup of coffee. "And we got married."

"After a long engagement, yes. It took you forever to tell me you loved me. I told you that night. Professed my undying love and devotion right up front," she said proudly.

"Before or after you got me into bed?" Kieran needled her.

"Smartass," Kathryn swatted her again. "During, of course," she retorted.

Kieran let out a peal of laughter. "Oh, you are evil, Kathryn Janeway."

Kathryn’s face fell.

"What?" Kieran asked, alarmed.

"Nothing. It’s just—well—you always tell me that," she faltered. "It was like you—I mean it was like MY Kieran was back for an instant."

Kieran swallowed hard. "Listen, I know I live here, in your timeline, but maybe I should go—there’s got to be someplace I could stay that would be less awkward for you."

"I’m okay," Kathryn lied. "Really. It just caught me off guard. I’m sorry. I must be making you terribly self-conscious."

"No, no, it’s okay," Kieran tried to rectify the situation with some semblance of aplomb. "It’s just that I don’t want to make you uncomfortable."

"I’ll adjust," Kathryn insisted. "I just have to remind myself that we don’t share the same memories. And what about you? If I assign you to guest quarters, you’re probably going to run into Lieutenant Torres. How would you deal with that?"

"Probably not as well as you’re dealing with me," Kieran admitted. "B'Elanna and I have only been married a few months. We’re still in that honeymoon stage. Even with the baby."

Kathryn smiled sadly. "You have a daughter, and you named her after me?"

Kieran nodded. "She’s so beautiful. My little Katie. Looks just like her mother," the slender woman started to get choked up. "She adores you. Whenever she hears your voice she just lights up and coos and gurgles. You were the first one to make her smile," she remembered fondly.

Kathryn lay her hand on Kieran’s thigh. "You’ll be home sooner than you know it, Counselor. You have my promise."

Kieran bit her lip. "If I’m here, Kat, where is your Kieran?"

Kathryn pinched the bridge of her nose. "Temporal puzzles give me a migraine," she complained. "My brain cells just can’t process that sort of conundrum."

Kieran had to laugh. "My Kathryn can’t stand them either. She makes Seven figure out that stuff. B'Elanna has to explain it all to me. I just don’t think like that. Makes my head hurt."

"Wherever she is," Kathryn frowned momentarily, "I pray she is safe."

Seeing that the conversation had taken a dangerously grim turn, Kieran guided it back to happier topics. "So, tell me about how you wooed me," she asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

Kathryn smiled. "Well, it really began at the outset…

_________________

Captain Kathryn Janeway entered the exobiology lab with a measured stride, scanning the room for Samantha Wildman. A tall, lean woman with deep brown eyes and a long braid of light brown hair down her back looked up from her work station, where she had been peering through a scope.

"May I help you, Captain?" she offered with a pleasant smile.

"Yes, Ensign—uh--?"

"Thompson," Kieran nodded. "Kieran Thompson."

"Ensign Thompson," Janeway repeated, committing the face and name to memory. "I was looking for Ensign Wildman."

"She stepped out for a moment. Why don’t you have a seat and wait for her? I expect her back momentarily. She had to go check on Naomi," Kieran motioned the older woman over to a chair. "Can I get you something?"

Kathryn was immediately taken by the fact that the Ensign showed no outward signs of nervousness at having her CO drop in on her. "Coffee, black, if you don’t mind."

"Not at all," Kieran replied easily. "We don’t get many visitors down here," she made small talk. "And goodness, here I am with nothing to wear," she joked as she punched in the replicator commands for the beverage.

Janeway couldn’t help chuckling. "Your uniform will do nicely," she laughed. "But next time, bake a cake," she shot back.

"Any particular kind? I’m a coconut fan, myself," she handed the Captain her coffee.

"Coffee cake, of course," Janeway toasted the Ensign with the steaming mug.

"Of course, what else," Kieran replied with a grin.

"Join me, Ensign? You look like you could use a break," she noted the dark circles around the young woman’s attractive brown eyes.

Kieran touched her face self-consciously. "Oh, I just look like this because of the scope. It gives me that lived-in look," she quipped. "It helps me maintain the illusion that I’ve been working hard."

Janeway laughed outright at that. "Please, join me. I could stand a little levity in my day," she invited the young Ensign.

"If you insist—but no, here’s Samantha now," she corrected herself as Ensign Wildman sailed through the laboratory entrance. "Look Sam. You’ve got company," she stated casually.

Samantha Wildman nearly snapped to attention. "Captain! I’m sorry if I kept you waiting. It’s just that Naomi has been sick—"

"It’s alright, Ensign," Janeway tried to reassure the anxious woman. "I know all about it. I read the crew reports this morning. How is she doing?"

Samantha sighed with obvious relief. "Better. Ktarian mumps are pretty painful, or so the Doctor tells me, but she’s resting now. Thank you for asking."

Janeway stood to follow the Ensign to her work area. "Well I have to keep tabs on my Bridge Assistant. She’s my favorite officer, after all."

"Don’t let that one get around, Captain. Other officers might get their feelings hurt," Kieran noted with a grin.

Once Ensign Wildman had begun her report, Janeway felt distracted by the view in her peripheral vision. Ensign Thompson was back at her microscope, adjusting the focus and jotting down information into a PADD. Janeway listened with half her attention as Samantha explained the research on species 8472 that she and Kieran had been conducting. Why haven’t I ever noticed her before? She wondered. I’ve been down here on many occasions. She’s certainly self-assured. Cocky, almost. Reminds me of a younger me. That was embarrassing, not knowing her name. This is my ship. I should know the people on it. After all, it’s fewer than 150 names and faces. I need to make a habit of spending time on Beta and Gamma shifts, just to remedy that. That will be my goal for the upcoming quarter.

"Captain?" Samantha asked.

Janeway’s head snapped back around. She had been staring at Ensign Thompson. "Yes?"

"I asked if you wanted to have Ensign Thompson explain the dermal research she’s been doing."

Janeway tried to hide her embarrassment at having been caught ogling the scientist at the aft workstation. "Yes, that would be fine," she replied more forcefully than the circumstances warranted.

"Kieran, would you explain the dermal data you’ve been working up?" Samantha asked politely as the Captain and she approached the towering scientist.

"Of course. We got this sample of tissue when one of the creatures was injured by the Hirogen hunter. Seven of Nine alerted us to the skin remnants, and we collected them for study. Take a look at this, Captain. It’s fascinating."

Janeway squinted into the microscope. What she saw looked more like ice particles than skin. It shimmered under the scope in a myriad of violet hues. "It’s—beautiful," she said with awe in her voice. "But what is it?"

Kieran smiled. "It’s flesh. Just not like any we’ve ever seen before. There’s nothing in the database even remotely similar. It has a genetic composition that is similar to DNA, but instead of four bases, there are six. It has the same base pairs our own DNA contains, but there is another pair we can’t identify," Kieran punched a series of commands into her console. "The structure looks like this," she explained as a 3-D image jumped onto the view screen.

"Amazing," Kathryn breathed. "Have you shown it to the Doctor?"

Kieran grinned. "Yes. He nearly wet himself with glee. This data will keep his holographic heart content for decades."

Samantha Wildman gasped aloud. She could not believe her brazen colleague was actually making jokes with the Captain, let alone making fun of the EMH in the same breath.

Janeway guffawed at the thought of the EMH peeing his holographic pants. "Nice work, Ensigns," she complimented the two women when she stopped laughing. "Sam, have your full report on my desk tomorrow morning. No, wait. Don’t work late, not with Naomi sick. Is tomorrow afternoon too soon?"

Kieran Thompson’s attention was now fully focused on the auburn haired woman with the command red shoulder pads. That was awfully decent of her to think about Naomi, she silently noted.

"I can have it done by then," Samantha smiled gratefully at the diminutive woman. "Thank you, Captain."

"Bridge to the Captain," the hail interrupted.

"Janeway here."

"There’s a ship approaching at warp five on long range sensors captain. You might want to take a look," Chakotay advised her.

"On my way," Janeway replied. She turned back to Ensign Thompson. "I’d like to hear more about this research you’ve been doing Ensign, but obviously, I’m going to have to cut this short. Would you join me for dinner this evening? Nothing fancy or formal—casual attire." She held her breath without realizing she was doing so.

"Well, I don’t know," Kieran teased, "can you replicate coconut cake?"

Janeway grinned. "For you, Ensign, I will certainly try," she promised.

"Well, then, I guess I can make it," Kieran replied nonchalantly. "Say about 1900 hours?"

"I’ll see you then. Ladies," she bowed before she turned to go.

Samantha Wildman shook her head in disbelief. "Good lord, Kieran, I can’t believe how you talked to her!"

"What?" Kieran feigned ignorance.

"Like she’s just any old person, and not the Captain of this ship."

Kieran shrugged noncommittally. "She is just any old person. And besides, she liked my jokes."

Sam rolled her eyes. "You are so lucky she liked you. Otherwise, she’d have thought you were insubordinate."

"Oh, come on, Sam. Just because I didn’t bow down before her and tremble with awe doesn’t make me insubordinate. Besides, who is she going to report me to? We’re several decades away from anyone who remotely gives a shit."

Sam regarded the Ensign with mild shock. "You have a lot to learn about Starfleet," she opined. "Let’s hope you get through dinner without landing yourself in the brig."

Kieran chuckled. "I’ll probably get a promotion out of it," she joked.

Which turned out to be exactly what happened, in the long run.

__________

Ensign Kieran Thompson was pleased to see that her Captain actually could replicate coconut cake. The three-layer confection stood proudly on the breakfast bar beneath a glass sconce, and Kieran had to smile as she made her way to the table.

"You remembered," she pretended to be touched. "It looks wonderful."

"You’re going to be eating it for days, Ensign, because I hate coconut. You can take the leftovers with you," Janeway advised her, laughing. That went well. Score one for the Captain.

Kieran patted her stomach. "Gladly. Neelix never comes up with anything that looks that promising," she noted. She pulled out her chair and sat down while Kathryn served the wine.

"You really went all out for this," Kieran noted with a hint of surprise. "That’s the real thing," she observed as Janeway carefully cradled the bottle from the Picard vineyards.

"I don’t entertain much. When I do, I like to do it properly," Janeway explained, hoping her voice sounded natural and calm. And God only knows how long it’s been since I had a date. Especially one that is obviously not easy to impress. Usually the four pips do the trick by themselves. I’m going to have to actually put some effort into this, for a change. "This salad is my favorite kind," she added, depositing a large helping on Kieran’s plate.

Kieran studied it for a second. "I love walnuts. This should be great."

"My mother is quite the cook, and this salad is one of her recipes. The dressing is a raspberry vinaigrette she concocted. I make it whenever I want to think of home."

After they had settled down to eat, Kathryn found it more difficult to keep the conversation moving. Finally she settled for asking, "So tell me about yourself, Ensign."

"Please, when you call me Ensign, I feel like I should dash out and replicate a uniform. I prefer Kieran, when I’m off duty," she smiled warmly at the older woman.

"I prefer Kathryn," Janeway reciprocated. Then after sipping her wine, she gathered the former train of conversation. "I don’t often get to socialize with my crew, and since we seem to go from one crisis to another on this ship, I don’t know the peripheral crew as well as I would like. So tell me about yourself."

"Peripheral crew?" Kieran wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that.

"I mean, crew other than the bridge crew. It seems I spend far too much time with a small subset of my crew," Janeway hastily explained, realizing how offensive she must have sounded. Oh, good one, Kathryn. Peripheral, as in secondary, expendable, invisible. Make her feel really important. That’ll win her over.

Kieran chewed thoughtfully. "I love sports. I play softball and basketball. I’m pretty good at velocity. I played for the Academy teams. I also did the high jump and shot-put for the Academy track team," Kieran offered, knowing full well Janeway was asking about her career more than her personal life. "I play the guitar. I have a fair singing voice."

Janeway was taken aback by the Ensign’s reply. "Sports and music are certainly worthwhile, but what are your career goals, Kieran?"

Kieran shrugged. "I don’t know. I haven’t given it any thought," she admitted lightly. "So what do you do when you’re not sitting in the ‘big chair’?"

Kathryn nearly choked. "What do you mean, you haven’t given it any thought?"

Kieran speared a chunk of broccoli. "I mean it’s not like there are a lot of options in the Delta Quadrant, so I don’t really think about my career."

"You’re wrong about that," Janeway tried to sound neutral, but she was getting irritated. "Just because we’re lost and far from home doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of opportunities to learn and grow."

"Oh, I don’t discount that, Kathryn," she used the personal name to try to steer the conversation from what felt like an interrogation to her. "I just don’t spend a lot of time worrying about how to become your first officer, or anything like that."

Kathryn sensed that the Ensign was taking a perverse pleasure in thwarting her efforts to encourage her. "Do you want to be my first officer?" she challenged.

"Not at all," Kieran returned without pause. "I am content to do my work in the lab and spend my off duty time shooting baskets. I’m a simple person with simple desires."

Kathryn found herself grinding her teeth. She expected the Ensign to at least try to impress her, and the young woman clearly didn’t care what she thought. "If you’re finished with your salad, I’ll get the steaks," she offered, uncertain of why the glib young woman was suddenly such an irritant.

"Great," Kieran agreed pleasantly, though she was starting to feel like she was the specimen beneath the microscope.

Janeway had to consciously refrain from setting the plate before her guest with a disruptive clatter. She decided to try another tact.

"Tell me then. If we hadn’t been stranded in the Delta Quadrant, what would you have wanted to do?"

Kieran paused to make an appreciative noise over her meat, which was grilled to perfection. "This is delicious," she complimented the older woman. "I don’t really know. I had a few oars in the water, but nothing definite." Then seeing the look of frustration on her hostess’ face, she added, "I had applied to the Academy’s Counselor Training Program."

Janeway’s face fell. "You had? Did you get accepted?"

Kieran shrugged impassively. "I don’t know. We got lost out here before I heard one way or another. Deanna seemed to think I would be accepted though."

Janeway’s brain hummed along, processing this information. "Deanna? As in Deanna TROI?"

Kieran nodded, taking another bite of steak. "Wonderful woman," she said through a mouthful of food. "Kind, professional, and an excellent teacher. I was really lucky to have her support."

"You served on the Enterprise?" Janeway was feeling a bit chagrined, realizing that this young woman, whom she had so recently decided was a directionless drone on her ship, had actually served on the flagship of the fleet.

"Yes. But I met Deanna before I was assigned to the Enterprise. I did an internship in Xenopsychology while I was at the academy, and she was my preceptor."

Janeway was stunned. "You—landed an internship on the Enterprise? And you served there after you graduated?"

"It’s not a big deal. Working with Deanna was great though," she said casually, finishing her entrée.

Janeway crossed her arms. "Ensign, do you have any idea how difficult it is to get a posting on the Enterprise, not to mention getting it right out of the Academy?"

Kieran nodded. "I guess so."

"Honestly, you are either the humblest person I’ve ever met, or the most ungrateful," Janeway criticized her guest. "If you wanted to be a counselor, why didn’t you come and see me? We desperately need a counselor on this ship."

"Whoa, wait a minute. I don’t want to be Ship’s Counselor. I said I wanted to go to the formal training program at the Academy. There’s a big difference."

"Yes, there is, but you’re the closest thing we’ve got, and I’m not likely to find anyone else more qualified. You haven’t even tried to sell yourself to the command staff. You could have told us about your background you know," she chastised the young Ensign, her voice filled with displeasure.

Kieran was getting angry now. "You don’t even know what my qualifications are. Hell, until today you didn’t even know my name. It’s not my job to announce to the world what I’ve accomplished, it’s your job to know who is on your ship. After all, it is your ship," she pointed out.

"I rely on my people to advise me. I rely on everyone on this ship to bring things to my attention," she said coldly.

"And if I had waltzed up to your bridge and asked for an audience with you, you’d have let someone on your ‘peripheral’ crew advise you? Come on, Captain. You’ve been in the lab a dozen times and never even spoken to me. It’s not my fault if you’re leadership challenged and end up overlooking qualified people who are right under your nose."

That stung. Kathryn Janeway was not accustomed to being confronted, and certainly not by a junior officer. She was so disarmed by the criticism, she could only respond "I do my best. I’m sorry I never got around to meeting the exobio lab technicians." She deliberately insulted the Ensign by referring to her as a technician.

"I may have a menial job, Captain, but I am an officer," Kieran bit the words off angrily. "I graduated from the same Academy you did. And I don’t appreciate being called a technician. I’m good at my job, and I work hard. Just because I didn’t pursue a command track doesn’t make me any less a Starfleet officer than you." Kieran snatched her napkin out of her lap, tossed it on the table, and hotly added, "Thank you for dinner. I’ll see myself out."

Kieran Thompson left in a defensive huff, certain she had just spent an evening with the most arrogant, condescending ass she had ever met. Kathryn Janeway smacked herself in the forehead as she watched the Ensign retreating, realizing she had probably offended the woman beyond reason, and defeated any hope of convincing the woman to take the promotion to Ship’s Counselor. She cast a dismal eye at the untouched coconut cake resting beneath the glass sphere. And that gave her an idea.

_________

When she arrived at work the next morning, Samantha Wildman practically tackled her.

"Well?" she demanded excitedly. "How did it go?"

Kieran yawned. "She offered me a promotion," Kieran deadpanned.

Sam’s jaw dropped. "You’re kidding. Just like that?"

"Yep. Just like that. Ship’s Counselor."

"Damn, I’m going to miss you," Sam hugged her fiercely.

"I told her no," Kieran hugged the enthusiastic blonde back.

Sam pushed her back at arm’s length. "You wouldn’t. Oh, Kieran, don’t tell me you screwed this up for yourself."

Kieran nodded. "It would appear that way. I couldn’t help it, Sam. She was just so snotty to me."

Sam crossed her arms. "I find that hard to believe. She’s always been good to her crew. You must have provoked her. In fact, when she came in here yesterday, I would have sworn she had an instant crush on you, so if she was rude to you, you had to have been asking for it. We both know you’re really good at that, Kieran."

Kieran grinned. "Yeah, I am. But I don’t think I deserved the treatment I got. First she tells me it’s casual, and we’re on a first name basis. The next minute, she’s grilling me about my career ambitions. I told her the truth—I don’t have any. Not in the Delta Quadrant."

Sam covered her face with her hands and groaned. "Oh God, Kieran. You didn’t tell her that," she said in an agonized tone. "No wonder she was snotty. You twisted two very painful thorns in her side."

Kieran tapped commands into the replicator, making coffee for Sam and tea for herself. "I did?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Yes, you nimrod! She is career Starfleet! Of course career ambitions are extremely important to her, and you practically told her they are worthless. She has sacrificed so much for that career of hers, and to have you dismiss ambition out of hand, well—"

"I never thought of it that way. I just thought she was insulting me for not having clear cut ideas about where my own career is going. And the other thorn?"

Sam accepted her coffee and took a tentative sip. "For someone who got promoted to Ship’s Counselor, you certainly can be dense," she commented with disgust. "The Delta Quadrant. Janeway feels terrible about getting us stranded out here, and you go and throw it in her face."

Kieran’s brows knitted together in resignation. "Oh, fuck," she said, closing her eyes. "Well, you’re right, Sam, you will miss me, but not because I’m getting promoted. I’ll probably be cleaning Jeffries tubes with my toothbrush for the next decade." She slumped down into her seat. "Shit, shit, shit." She burned her tongue with the tea, but wasn’t really aware of that pain. "I didn’t mean to rub her nose in it," she said miserably. Then as if the words had

suddenly registered, she asked "What do you mean, she had an instant crush on me?"

Sam laughed with condescension. "Oh, ye of no perception. Some counselor you’re going to make," she ribbed the younger woman. "Get a clue, Thompson. She couldn’t take her eyes off you. During my whole report, she just stood here and stared over at you working. And she got that affected little laugh at every joke you made. Hell," Sam admitted, "I’d have had a crush on you too. You were charming."

Kieran winked at her colleague. "I knew I’d rub off on you eventually, Wildman. So now that you’ve come to your senses--" Kieran teased her with a long running joke.

Sam growled at her. "Not likely, Ensign. You’re on the Captain’s shit list, now. I’m not about to date someone who has enemies in high places."

Kieran pretended to be wounded. "Aw, Sammie, you’re breakin’ my heart. What’s a few enemies, when faced with the prospect of true love?"

Sam swatted her with a PADD. "You’re impossible, Kieran. If Naomi weren’t crazy about you, I’d ask the Captain to transfer you to another department."

"You’d miss me," Kieran reminded her, batting her eyelashes innocently.

"I’d get over it," Samantha assured her. Then with a sigh, she added, "We’d better get busy. That report is due this afternoon. And now that you’ve pissed off the CO, she’ll probably take it out on my poor report. You owe me big, Thompson."

Kieran waggled her eyebrows. "I’ve been trying to give it to you in a big way for a long time, Sam," she chuckled.

Sam glared at her. "I think we’ve had enough sexual harassment for one day, Ensign. Get to work."

Kieran had no sooner returned to her scope and retrieved the tissue sample from stasis when a transporter beam hummed. A large piece of coconut cake on a blue plate materialized on her work station, with a tall glass of ice cold milk and a note.

Kieran:

I was an ass last night, and I apologize. You didn’t even stay long enough to let me tell you how sorry I am, and you missed dessert. Hope you like sweets for breakfast.

Would you consider letting me make it up to you? I’m usually not such a lousy hostess, honestly. And I really would like for you to consider what we discussed. I can’t force you to take the job, even though I could order you to. I like my crew to be happy, and if you’re happy working in the exobio lab, there’s nothing wrong with that. I didn’t mean to imply that there was anything wrong with liking your current job. I’m grateful you do—after all, in a way, you’re doing it for me, and doing it well.

I think I just got worked up because I need you to take the posting of Ship’s Counselor, and I put the cart before the horse. Pardon me for getting so excited about the prospect of filling a desperately needed slot in my senior staff. By the way, did I mention the job comes with an automatic promotion to Lieutenant? Not that rank is all that important, but the pay is nothing to sneeze at.

Do I sound contrite enough? You must know, being an expert in psychology, that starship Captains don’t often admit they are wrong. And they grovel even more rarely. I’m out on a limb, here, Counselor. I could use a friendly hand getting back to the ground. You said you love sports, well, I’m the reigning velocity champion on the ship. Why don’t we play this afternoon when your duty shift is over? Let me know.

Sincerely,

Kathryn Janeway

CO (that stands for Condescending Oaf)

Kieran read the note several times before Sam Wildman scooted over to her workstation and demanded to know if the Ensign was going to accept the peace offering.

"I don’t know," Kieran feigned stubbornness, "let me taste the cake and if it’s any good, maybe I’ll go play velocity with her."

Sam waited expectantly. "Well?" she prodded, arms crossed and jaw set in a reprimand.

Kieran smiled through fluffy white icing. "Mmmmm…oh my God, it’s orgasmic," she murmured. "Want some?"

Sam smiled with relief. "I’ll replicate another plate. That piece is big enough to feed half of the bridge crew."

"She knows my weakness," Kieran quipped. "Gluttony."

"Are you going to respond?" Sam asked around a mouthful of cake.

"I dunno—let her sweat awhile."

"You’re cruel, woman," Sam accused.

Kieran grinned wickedly. "Just remember for future reference, don’t piss me off," she warned.

An hour passed, and Kieran was composing her reply to Janeway’s invitation when another transporter beam activated. This time, a piece of cake materialized with a dish of chocolate ice cream and a note that said only "Please?"

Kieran laughed and ate the ice cream. She gave the cake to Sam to take home to Naomi. Then she sent her response:

Kathryn:

I can see that starship Captains are not only an impetuous lot, but an impatient lot as well. However, perhaps we can settle our differences over a friendly velocity match, as you suggested.

I’ll meet you in Holodeck 2 after my duty shift.

By the way, the cake was wonderful.

Kieran Thompson

Lab technician

Sam watched eagerly as Kieran transmitted the response. "This is so exciting," she murmured.

"What is?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "You, the Captain. When she wants something, she usually gets it. And she obviously wants you," she said pointedly.

Kieran snorted. "Not the way you’re implying, she doesn’t. She just needs a Ship’s Counselor."

Sam smirked. "You really don’t get it do you?"

Kieran shook her head. "Look, this is about my career, and not the fanciful fantasy you’ve cooked up to entertain yourself, Wildman."

"Mark my words," she insisted. "She’s got it bad for you. This is not about your career."

"You’re so full of it. Janeway is as straight as space is vast."

Sam smiled knowingly. "She was—until yesterday," she contended.

_____________

The score teetered back and forth through several rounds, but as the match progressed, Janeway began to pull away by stringing points together intermittently.

"Shouldn’t you be letting me win?" Kieran grunted as she bounced off the wall to avoid the hurtling velocity disk.

"Ha! Like you’d respect me if I did," Janeway snarled, ducking as Kieran fired.

Kieran chuckled darkly. "Who says I respect you now?" she taunted, blasting the disk and moving away from its trajectory.

Janeway tucked and rolled and came up shooting, trying to impress her opponent. "As long as you respect my game, I’ll be satisfied," she gasped.

Kieran narrowly escaped being hit by the careening puck. "Well, I have to admit, you’re damned good," she said begrudgingly, "especially considering you’re so much older than me."

Janeway shot her a vile look, pivoted to her left in anticipation of Kieran’s next shot, and retorted "You’re better than I expected. Usually a player so tall and skinny is clumsy." As she made her next shot, she put a body block on the lanky Ensign, sending her sprawling.

"Careful Captain," she drawled in a warning tone, rubbing her skinned elbows. "You might break a hip."

As Janeway won the next point, she grinned triumphantly. "You should have more respect for your elders," she lectured playfully, extending a hand to the prostrate Ensign.

"Duly noted," she replied, yanking herself upright with Janeway’s help.

"Had enough?"

Kieran surveyed her numerous bruises, noted her elbows were now bleeding, and accepted defeat. "For now," she acquiesced.

"Loser buys the beer," Kathryn advised.

"Okay. Where?"

"How about Sandrine’s?"

"That’d be fun. I’ve never been there. Lead the way."

"Um, Ensign, don’t you think we should stop by sickbay? You’re bleeding," Janeway noticed the crimson beads gathering on the younger woman’s elbows, feeling a bit guilty for knocking her around so roughly.

Kieran looked at herself. "It’s just a scratch. But then, I’d hate to make a mess of your pristine deck, Sir."

Janeway put a hand on her shoulder. "You know, you really are a smart ass. I’m going to enjoy having you on my senior staff, just to listen to you banter with the likes of the Doctor and B'Elanna."

"I haven’t accepted the job, you know," Kieran reminded her.

"I know. I’m counting on the fact that I can be very persuasive," Janeway said confidently. "And by the way, I looked over your service record. Your qualifications are outstanding. And I also checked the latest data from the Starfleet data streams we’ve been getting. You were accepted to the Academy Graduate Program in Counselor Training. Full scholarship. So you’re perfect for the post on Voyager."

"You don’t seem to realize, I’m not certified. It’s not legal for me to practice," she emphasized with genuine concern.

"You let me worry about regulations. No one will fault you, or I, for this promotion Kieran. Trust me."

"How can you be so sure?" the Ensign was obviously troubled by the ethical issues.

"I’ve already consulted with Chakotay, the Doctor, and Tuvok. They’re all in agreement with my assessment. We need you. And they were each impressed with your credentials."

Kieran smiled with warmth for the first time, gratified that someone had finally noticed that she was languishing in the lab. "It’s a terrific opportunity, I admit. But you’ve overlooked one very important thing."

Janeway entered sickbay. "What’s that?"

Kieran smirked. "We don’t like each other. And we would have to work together closely."

Kathryn looked injured. "I do so like you," she protested too quickly.

Ah, Sam was right, Kieran realized. I’ll be damned. She has a crush on me.

"In fact, I think we should get to know each other better. I’m actually a very nice person, once you get to know me. Ask anyone," she teased.

"Oh, yeah, like I’d get anyone to tell the truth—like anyone would admit they hate their Captain," Kieran made a skeptical sound.

Janeway’s eyes twinkled. "You’d be surprised. Computer, activate EMH."

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," the Doctor brightly said as he materialized in the midst of the two women.

"I have a boo boo," Kieran said sarcastically, holding out her elbows.

"Yes, I can see that. Nothing serious, I assure you Counselor," he addressed her as if she had already been promoted.

Janeway grinned. "You see how natural that sounds, Kieran?" she tried to use her most persuasive tone.

The Doctor stiffened. "You mean you haven’t accepted the job? Oh, for Pete’s sake, Ensign, snap to it, already," he sounded peeved. "Surely you’re tired of culturing tissue samples by now. Think of the challenge. There are plenty of mental basket cases on this ship. You’d be at a veritable psychological smorgasbord. And you’d be serving the greater good. I take tremendous satisfaction in healing the ills of the crew," he flipped on the dermal regenerator with flair, to illustrate his indispensable qualities.

Kieran suppressed the urge to laugh in his pompous face. "I’m thinking about it, Doctor," she said to placate him.

"Well don’t take too long. There are people in need on this ship. And besides, the Captain has given you her resounding endorsement, not something she would do lightly." He leaned down to look more closely at the mended dermal layer on the Ensign’s elbows. "Good as new. In fact, better," he bragged. "Run along now. Don’t you have an extra pip to replicate?" he asked enthusiastically.

Kieran laughed. "You’re relentless, both of you," she was feeling flattered by their overwhelming confidence in her. "Come on Captain. I owe you a beer."

_______________

The Captain and the candidate for Ship’s Counselor drank late into the evening. They played pool, which Kieran handily won, and darts, which they both won a few rounds of. Seven of Nine joined them for a few games of pool, and Kieran wondered if Janeway had arranged for the gorgeous Borg to make an appearance at Sandrine’s, just to demonstrate how intellectually stimulating it could be to be on the Senior Staff. Kieran loved Seven’s analytical mind and her no nonsense demeanor. By the end of the evening, Kieran was wondering if Kathryn’s devious plot to lure her into the position hadn’t backfired. She felt like she had a crush on Seven. That lasted through about two beers and became a foggy memory that would fade by morning.

Janeway escorted the Ensign to her quarters after many drinks, and neither woman was entirely steady on her feet. "Well, have I convinced you yet, Ensign? That pip on your collar looks awfully lonely. Like a speck of cosmic dust in a vast sea of blue. I can give you a pip to keep it company."

Kieran swayed as she tried to key her code into her quarters. "Let me sleep on it. Okay?"

Janeway shrugged. "Of course. But don’t expect me to be patient about it. Good night, Kieran. Thanks for agreeing to meet me."

Kieran smiled lopsidedly. "Hey, I love getting my ass kicked in velocity. Let’s do it again sometime. Maybe in a month, when I’m not sore anymore."

Janeway lingered, wanting to touch the young woman, but sensing it would spoil the progress they had made. "As soon as you’re ready, I’ll reserve the court," she said softly, unaware that she was gazing longingly at the taller woman.

"Sleep well," Kieran excused herself, disappearing behind her door.

"Not likely," Janeway whispered to herself, still staring at the closed entrance to Kieran’s quarters.

____________

"You know, I’m enjoying your efforts to sway me so much, I don’t have a lot of incentive to give you a decision," Kieran chuckled over the elaborate breakfast Janeway had prepared.

"Ah, so that’s what’s keeping you from accepting. Pretty clever. And very manipulative," Kathryn noted with an appreciative grin as she buttered a bagel.

"Tell, me Kathryn," Kieran smiled faintly, "do you make a habit of showing up at the crack of dawn with a feast for your other senior officers? When was the last time you popped in on Chakotay before alpha shift with a basket of muffins?" she asked coyly.

"Never," Kathryn replied honestly. "He liked me right away. I didn’t have to convince him I’m not an ogre." In fact, he likes me entirely too much.

"Oh, so as soon as you convince me you’re a swell gal, you’ll blow me off?" Kieran hid her impertinent grin behind a muffin.

Kathryn decided not to be flip. "I wouldn’t ever blow you off," she replied seriously, not meeting the Ensign’s eyes.

Kieran touched her sleeve. "I was kidding. But I think you might be confusing attraction with professional mentoring, Captain," she pointed out gently. "I wouldn’t want you to offer me this job for any reason other than my qualifications," she nearly choked on the words, realizing she was on very thin ice.

Janeway was trying not to throw up a wall or hide behind some flippant remark. There it is Kathryn. She’s calling you on it. Time to put up or shut up. Can’t deny it—caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. "I assure you, my poorly disguised attraction to you is not the reason I want you on my staff. You’re the right person for the job. And I’ll get over my attraction, if you want me to. I’m a starship Captain. Self-denial and discipline are as ingrained in me as they can be." She sipped her coffee, then added, "I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I guess I’ve lost my ability to be subtle. Frankly, I haven’t noticed anyone in so long, I thought I’d lost the capacity to feel any sort of romantic interest."

Kieran nodded sympathetically. "Nobody ever loses the capacity for that," she contended. "You haven’t made me uncomfortable. It’s a little daunting, to think that the Captain of my ship is attracted to me. And I’m not sure how I feel about it. But I’m adaptable, and I’m not ruling out anything. I hardly know you. But you have to admit, our first date was a total disaster," she chided the blushing Captain.

Kathryn let out a deep, rumbling laugh that electrified the air around them. "It certainly was. Dear God, I would love to wipe that whole incident from my memory," she shook her head. "I’m surprised you’d even consider talking to me after the way I acted."

"Well, you are the Captain. It’s not like I can ignore you. And you make a mean coconut cake."

"You have to take the rest of that damned thing. There’s enough left for eight people. It’s going to go bad," Kathryn pleaded.

"I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you bring it to the staff meeting today."

"There’s no staff meeting," Kathryn replied, puzzled.

"There should be. Aren’t you going to introduce me to the rest of the Senior Staff? Isn’t that protocol—right after you log my promotion and replicate my Lieutenant’s pips?"

Kathryn grinned broadly. "I stand corrected. I’ll bring the cake to the staff meeting." She extended her hand. "Welcome aboard, Counselor."

Kieran took it firmly. "Thank you, Captain. Is it okay with you if I go to the lab after breakfast? I need to tell Sam I’m leaving. She’s going to get all emotional. It might take awhile."

Janeway beamed at the angular woman. "Of course. In fact, take the day off. You’re going to need to look for office space. Work with central stores to set it up. And you’ll need to move to deck three. The promotion includes bigger, better quarters. But we’ll hold the staff meeting mid morning, if that fits in with your schedule."

Kieran swallowed audibly. "My own office. Wow," she murmured. "It feels so professional."

Janeway let out a peal of laughter. "That’s what I thought the first time I saw my ready room," she admitted. "Savor it, Lieutenant. These moments are few and far between in a Starfleet career," she said with no small amount of sentimentality.

"Thank you, Captain. And thanks for believing in me," she said with a catch in her voice.

__________

Kieran Thompson made the transition to her new position as smoothly as could be expected, considering that she was immediately besieged by crewmembers who wanted to make appointments, inundated with recordkeeping she had to learn from Chakotay, and called away several times a day for briefings with the Captain, the entire senior staff, or the Doctor, who wanted to get a psychological consult on at least one case every day, it seemed.

Janeway kept a respectful distance while the young Lieutenant settled into her role. She sent an occasional note with an encouraging word or two, and stopped by Kieran’s office every couple of days to see if the Counselor needed anything. She was acutely aware of the improvement in ship’s morale, just because everyone felt better having a therapist on board.

After a couple of weeks, things calmed down for the newly appointed ship’s counselor, and Kathryn decided it was time to lift the moratorium on spending social time with Kieran. She set up a regular velocity date with the athletic Lieutenant, and tried to work up the courage to ask her out on an actual date. They started to spend a good deal of their off duty time together, and Kieran reluctantly admitted to herself she was warming to the Captain.

For her part, Janeway felt so unlike herself when she was with Kieran, she was unnerved by it. She found herself hanging on every word the young Counselor uttered, caught herself daydreaming on the bridge, and realized she was devising the means to see Kieran even when they were on duty. It was totally out of character for her, and even moreso that when she realized what she was doing, she stubbornly refused to stop it. Janeway was puzzled by her attraction, but eventually chalked it up to the fact that Kieran was so much like herself in that she wouldn’t let anyone dictate how she should act or feel. And Janeway enjoyed a good argument, something she was certain to get from the lanky Counselor on occasion.

Janeway was still close friends with Chakotay, and Kieran had kept her friendship thriving with Samantha Wildman. As a consequence, the four shipmates ended up in social situations together on numerous occasions, and Chakotay discovered he no longer adored Kathryn. He was hopelessly smitten with Samantha, and since she had found out through their communication with Starfleet that she had been widowed in the Dominion War, she had no reason to deny herself the companionship she had missed for their five years in the Delta Quadrant. Seeing her First Officer falling in love gave Kathryn hope that her own deepening affection for Kieran Thompson wouldn’t go unrequited.

Kathryn had introduced Kieran to her Da Vinci program, and the two women painted at least twice a week. They took most of their meals together, when the ship wasn’t at red alert for one reason or another. They walked in the arboretum, played pool at Sandrine’s, drank beer and played horseshoes in Fair Haven, and went rowboating on the river outside Fair Haven proper. Kathryn regularly clobbered Kieran at velocity, though it always sent her limping to sickbay to recover, and the two women grew to be the best of friends as the weeks passed. Late night discussions that Janeway had once hosted for Seven of Nine were reserved for the other tall woman on her ship. She and Kieran stayed up ‘til all hours discussing philosophy, ethics, literature, and sports. The two women developed a mutual admiration for the keen intellect and agile mental processes they each possessed. Kathryn felt she had met her match on many levels, and Kieran was finally challenged by her entire environment.

One afternoon, Kathryn dropped in at Kieran’s office.

"Hey," she stuck her head around the corner. "Got a minute?"

Kieran’s face lit up. "Always, for you, Captain. Come on in. What’s up?"

Janeway took the chair next to Kieran’s. "I want to ask you something."

"Okay. I’m all ears."

Kathryn chuckled lightly. "No, you’re all arms and legs. But that’s beside the point," she teased. "I need your professional input."

Kieran nodded expectantly. "Of course."

Kathryn gathered her thoughts. "I want to know how to approach someone I’ve been spending a lot of time with. I want to take our relationship to another level, but I don’t know how to differentiate between where we are and where I want us to be. I’m not even sure how to ask her if she wants to take it to a different level."

Kieran tried not to laugh at the thinly veiled pretense, and steepled her fingers together with a serious expression on her face. "You are friends with her now?"

"Very close friends. Best friends."

"But you want a more romantic involvement," Kieran clarified.

"Yes."

Kieran’s eyes sparkled with mischief, but since she was playing the role of counselor, she didn’t dare tease the Captain. "Well, then, just ask her out on a date. Use those words, and make it clear that this is different than the time you usually spend together. Then she will be compelled to answer you. If she says no, then you will know you aren’t going to make it to any other level. If she says yes, then you’ll know she’s at least open to the idea."

"I want to go out with you Friday," she said bluntly.

Kieran switched from Counselor mode to personal mode. "We go out all the time. Why not just send me a comm message?" Kieran was amused, but something in the older woman’s demeanor kept her from making light of it.

"I mean on a date. Not just hanging around together." Kathryn held her breath.

"I’ll tell you what. We’ve done so well without sticking a label on this—this—whatever this is," Kieran waved her hand to indicate their relationship, "I don’t think I want to mess it up, Kat. You’re my best friend. Neither one of us seems to be very good at navigating through an actual honest-to-God date. Do you really want to risk it?"

"Yes," Kathryn replied.

Kieran considered. "On one condition. You spend the day at the beach with me. I get to plan the whole excursion. Still game?"

"Absolutely. Hail me when you’re ready to go. I’ll grab the holodeck for the day. It’ll cause a few gripes, but hey, I’m the Captain. I need a break once in awhile."

"Okay. We’re going to go parasailing. Get plenty of rest the night before. It’s pretty grueling. But it’s wonderful. Well worth the exhaustion."

Kathryn smiled, and tried not to think about the ways she’d like to get exhausted with the attractive young Lieutenant.

_____________

Kieran Thompson soared gracefully along the parallel plane of sky that bordered the ocean below, wind in her face, salt on her skin, bronzed and muscular and fully at peace as she glided along. The giant kite that supported her behind the hoverboat took exacting skill to control, and brute strength to keep her body streamlined inside it’s support bars, but she loved the feeling of flight, and was in her element as she attempted a few dips and turns.

Kathryn Janeway watched from within the confines of the hoverboat with an increasing sense of nausea. At times like these, she doubted whether holodeck safety protocols could truly make a difference if an accident were to occur. In fact, people were injured on the holodeck all the time. Never fatally, and perhaps that was the best the protocols could do. But watching the woman she had fallen for risking life and limb made her heart palpitate with fear.

When it was her turn to test her fledgling skills, she was nervous as a cadet on her first piloting mission. The instructor was thorough and kind, and it all sounded simple enough, but Kathryn was distinctly aware that she, despite all her Starfleet training and self-control, was afraid of heights. Soon enough, she was suspended above the ocean, arms rigidly holding her in place on the parasail. She found herself tiring sooner than she had expected, but then, Kieran had warned her that it was a draining sport.

Their time was almost up, and the hoverboat driver topped their day by letting them do a tandem run. Kieran, as the experienced glider, took the higher position of the two, and she kept her eyes trained on Kathryn, who did not seem to be enjoying herself very much. Kieran noted that the intrepid Captain, though a good sport, was decidedly green around the gills. They hit a slight wind shear on their last pass, and Kathryn lost control of her parasail, tumbling out of control toward the waves.

She landed in an unceremonious heap at a dangerously awkward angle, and went under, only to realize she was tangled in the foot strap of the frame, and unable to swim. The last thing she saw before she sank was Kieran, dropping effortlessly from the sky and landing close beside her. Kieran had Kathryn free in a matter of moments, and couldn’t help laughing with relief as she pulled the older woman close to her. "Are you okay?" she gripped the Captain firmly, treading water for both of them.

"I think so. That hurt like hell, though."

Kieran cracked up laughing. "You should have seen yourself, Kat," she howled. "Oh, shit, I’m sorry, but it was funny. Except you scared hell out of me," she added less gleefully. "Come on, let’s get you back to shore. Can you swim?"

"I’m a little shaken up, but I’ll manage," Janeway replied, her color still absent.

"Computer, remove hoverboat and parasails. Okay, Kat, you go first, and I’ll follow, so I can keep an eye on you. If you need to rest, just stop. Okay?"

Kathryn nodded.

Back at the beach, they stretched out under the holosun, spent and overwrought by their collective fear of what had transpired. Kathryn had been afraid from the moment she was aloft, but Kieran had a more delayed reaction to seeing Kathryn in peril. Kieran had realized, in that moment diving to release Kathryn from the foot strap, that she loved Kathryn Janeway, and that seeing her endangered was not an experience she wanted to repeat. She held the older woman as they sat watching the seagulls, Kathryn tucked in between her legs, both women facing outward. Kieran’s face rested against the slight shoulders dotted with tiny freckles, precious, perfect shoulders that she restrained herself from kissing. Instead she settled for repeated apologies, and promises that they would never do anything so risky again. Kathryn was content to rest against the Counselor’s body, which seemed to envelope her with protective warmth. Before long, Kathryn fell asleep, and Kieran spent hours dropping soft, clandestine kisses on Kathryn’s skin as she held her.

____________

"Sam and Chakotay are right behind me," Kieran informed the Captain. "I saw them stepping off the turbo lift. Though they may take quite some time in arriving," she chuckled.

Kathryn busied herself in the kitchen. "Why?"

Kieran quirked an eyebrow. "Making out again."

Kathryn suppressed a shiver. She suddenly wished she were having only one guest for dinner.

"Those two. You know, this is your fault, Counselor. You fixed them up. And now Chakotay is absolutely useless," she bitched.

"You’re just jealous, Kat. Hell, everyone is. I’ve never seen two people so in love," she smiled fondly, thinking of the amorous couple.

Aren’t we, Kieran? God, can’t you see how much I love you? Kathryn let out an audible sigh, unconscious of it, but it did not escape the notice of the attentive Counselor.

Patience, love, Kieran promised Kathryn silently. Tonight. You won’t be disappointed this time. I won’t leave abruptly, or pretend I have an early appointment. I’m going to keep you up all night. Tonight and many nights after.

The door chime sounded and broke the silence that held them both captive, staring dry mouthed at each other, each contemplating their own private desires.

"Come," Kathryn called out feebly, eyes still locked with Kieran’s. She forced herself to look away. "Hello you two," she greeted the happy couple. "Come on in. Dinner isn’t quite ready yet, but we can have some wine."

Kieran snapped out of her reverie. "I’ll get the glasses," she offered, still preoccupied.

"It smells wonderful," Chakotay sniffed the air hungrily, then slipped his arms around Samantha from behind, nuzzling her throat. "Almost as good as you," he whispered in her ear.

Sam squirmed and laughed gently, but pressed back against him suggestively. "You seem to have recovered from you parasailing ordeal, Kathryn," she commented, ignoring Chakotay’s lips on her ear.

"Good as new," Kathryn agreed. "The Doctor gave me the ass chewing of a lifetime, though," she recalled with a grin.

"You?" Kieran wailed. "I thought he would never shut up about how I had recklessly endangered you, my wanton disregard for your safety," she complained. "I mean, come on, you didn’t break anything."

Sam laughed. "No, but she bruised everything. She looked like a plum when I saw her going to sickbay."

Kieran grimaced, and slipped up behind Kathryn, hugging her just as Chakotay was hugging Samantha. "I’m so sorry, Kat," she reiterated for the thousandth time.

Kathryn turned in her arms, hands resting lightly on Kieran’s waist. "I’m fine. Really. Don’t look at me like that, like you just killed your best friend."

Kieran smiled sadly. "You are my best friend, though. And you could have been killed."

Kathryn gazed up into sorrowful brown eyes, and forgot to breathe. Until Chakotay cleared his throat.

"Wine?" he reminded the two women.

Kieran practically jumped away from Kathryn, retrieved the four glasses, and began working the corkscrew into the cork.

Kathryn worked diligently on finishing the dinner preparations while Kieran and Sam talked, and Chakotay hovered near Kathryn in the kitchen, if only to prevent himself from putting his hands all over Sam.

"Something radical has changed between you two," he commented quietly, so only Kathryn could hear.

"No, nothing," Kathryn reported dismally. "Why do you say so?"

"It’s Kieran," he glanced over at the tall, slender Counselor. "The way she was looking at you a minute ago. Her whole demeanor, her body language, her facial expressions, are different. I was afraid for you, Kathryn. You’re so plainly taken with her and I was sure it was one sided. But it shows in her manner now. She loves you."

Kathryn gripped his forearm. "I hope so, Chakotay, because if she doesn’t, I am in big trouble."

He smiled. "It’s good to see you out of control," he encouraged her. "You need a partner that gives you that freedom, to leave the Captain on the bridge, and to just be Kathryn with her. You seem so much happier, since you got to know her."

"You seem pretty elated, these days, yourself. Are you and Sam getting serious?"

Chakotay actually blushed. "It is for me. I can’t speak for her. I think she hesitates to make it more determinate, because of Naomi. But I can wait. You know better than anyone, I am the most patient and probably the most clueless man on this ship," he ribbed her, referring to his longstanding attraction to her, which she had delicately ignored for years.

"True," she teased back. "Thankfully, we never went down that road," she smiled up at him. "I was right, you know. It wouldn’t have worked."

"I know that now," he admitted ruefully. "I’m glad one of us had the good sense to realize it." Then as an afterthought, "You know, Sam and I haven’t had any time alone for awhile. I could make an excuse to leave, as soon as dinner is over."

Janeway grinned conspiratorially. "Thanks."

"My pleasure. And I do mean that," he looked at Sam with unconcealed lust.

Janeway swatted him. "Cool your warp core, Commander. At least until after dessert," she laughed at him.

All through dinner, Kathryn was keenly aware that indeed, Kieran was acting differently. In fact, Kathryn noted, she had acted differently ever since the accident on the holodeck. More gentle. Less derisive in her humor. Almost solicitous. And as they sat close together at the dinner table, Kieran touched Kathryn’s hand several times, leaned over to say something private once or twice, and projected an aura of intimacy that enthralled Kathryn completely.

Samantha couldn’t help watching the two women with a fond expression, knowing for certain Kieran had finally fallen, and fallen hard. She would miss the flirtatious way Kieran teased her about turning Sam to her lifestyle, but Kieran seemed to radiate joy from every pore, and Sam was gratified to see it, even if it meant losing her only admirer besides Chakotay. And Naomi, she reminded herself.

It seemed to Kathryn that Chakotay and Samantha would never leave, but after a couple of hours, they made excuses and headed for Chakotay’s quarters, which were next door. From the kitchen, Kathryn overheard a few muffled groans as they no doubt tore each other’s clothes off. Kieran stood at the replicator, recycling dishes and glasses, oblivious to the antics in the adjacent quarters.

Kathryn gathered her determination, stepped up behind Kieran, slipped her arms around the small waist, and hugged her tightly. Kieran eased around in Kathryn's embrace, facing her, and stooped to kiss her. Kathryn would claim she had initiated the kiss. Kieran insisted she had been the first to make that move. Either way, they stood there, lips brushing lightly over lips, exploring, learning, discovering. Kathryn opened her mouth beneath Kieran’s, a soft sound of surrender escaping the back of her throat as Kieran’s teeth captured Kathryn’s bottom lip. They kissed until their legs threatened to buckle with fatigue, kissed until their mouths were tired and inflamed, kissed until they were aching with desire for one another.

After what must have been an hour, Kathryn rested her head against Kieran’s meager chest, letting the taller woman hold her and caress her shoulder length auburn hair. She smiled at how easily their bodies fit together, how perfectly they seemed to contour each other’s angles and soft swells of flesh. Kieran kept her eyes closed as she cradled Kathryn against her, as the force of her emotion swept over her and brought her to the recognition of how deeply she wanted this woman, how totally she needed to be with her, how completely she had fallen in love with her. When Kathryn looked up at her expectantly, Kieran could only kiss her forehead, eyes squeezed tightly shut, and tell her in the most fractured voice, "I want to make love to you, Kat."

Kathryn felt the words in every nerve ending. "Please," she whispered against Kieran’s neck.

Determined that nothing would be hurried, Kieran took Kathryn’s hand and led her to the couch instead of the bedroom. She stretched her lean frame along the length of the sofa, drew Kathryn down on top of her, and held her then, kissing her again and again. Kathryn tentatively slid her hands beneath Kieran’s shirt, finding two willing, erect nipples, delighting in the sound that Kieran made when she touched her there. It never once occurred to Kathryn that she had never made love with a woman. Her body seemed to instinctively know what to do and how to do it, and there was no conscious thought at all.

Kieran lifted her leg between Kathryn’s, exerting the slightest pressure against the apex of her thighs, and Kathryn moaned softly into Kieran’s mouth, her tongue tracing circles around Kieran’s. And still they kissed, deeply, passionately, feverishly, teasing and taunting with foreshadows of pleasures to be, until both women were breathing heavily and needing more than kisses.

Kathryn lay her head against Kieran’s chest, listening to the steady drumming of her heart, and carefully eased the buttons through the openings in the fabric of her shirt. She left delicate fleeting kisses everywhere, covering Kieran’s throat, her chest, her stomach, and finally, her nipples. Kieran arched her back, lifting her breasts to Kathryn’s eager mouth, whimpering as she felt wet warmth close around engorged flesh, then the fluttering sensation of Kathryn’s tongue skating over stiffening pink tips. Kieran groaned aloud, her generous hands gripping Kathryn’s ass, rocking the smaller woman against her thigh, tormenting her with the friction of their bodies moving in tandem. When Kathryn could clearly stand no more anticipation, Kieran sat up, pulling Kathryn with her, half undressed and no longer interested in delaying further.

Wordlessly, they moved to the bedroom, where Kieran undressed her lover with considered appreciation for each newly revealed part of her sinewy body, dropping to her knees to tug Kathryn’s jeans off, and kissing a smooth path from her breasts to her thighs as she knelt. She kissed soft fur, damp and musky, took a long, loving taste, and shuddered involuntarily when Kathryn gasped at that first touch. She fought for control, thwarted her impatience to take Kathryn then and there, and forced herself to chastely kiss back up the length of Kathryn’s body, where she finally stood and allowed Kathryn to finish undressing her.

Standing before each other completely naked, Kathryn shyly reached for Kieran’s hands, then more confidently, pulled her down to their bed. Legs opened to welcome hips, arms enfolded to welcome more kisses as they conformed to each other, warm and electric where their skin touched. Kathryn wrapped her legs around Kieran’s back, and the shock of wet need bathed Kieran’s belly where Kathryn moved against her. Fingers found swollen lips and a dripping opening, and Kathryn moaned sharply as Kieran entered her with two long, slender fingers, easing gradually into the tightness and feeling the first jolt of an impending orgasm.

"Easy," Kieran soothed her. "We have all night, Kat," she murmured against her breast, suckling and nuzzling until Kathryn was close to delirium.

"I—it’s been so long," Kathryn whispered apologetically. "I’m sorry—"

"Shhh," Kieran silenced her with firm kisses and the gentle penetration and withdrawal of her fingers. "It’s okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it. I’ll make love to you as many times as you want," she promised between kisses and long, slow strokes that had Kathryn on edge already.

Kathryn lifted her hips to meet Kieran’s fingers, walls closing spasmodically, body trembling. "I—oh God, Kieran, I’m—" she breathed in gasps, feeling the need crest unbidden.

Kieran was suspended on one arm, loving Kathryn with her other hand, kissing and nipping at her throat as Kathryn came to her. "I know, love, I’ve got you," she promised, holding her tightly as the first waves broke.

Kathryn made a guttural sound as her body went completely rigid, the pleasure tearing through her as she clutched at Kieran’s shoulders. "Oh, Kieran," she sighed, tears stinging her eyes, "that was so wonderful."

Kissing her hard, Kieran pressed her down to the mattress with her hips. "Just a preview," she said softly. "There are so many things I want to do with you," she brushed the tears from Kathryn’s cheeks with a careful finger, kissed her again, and rolled them over, so that Kathryn was straddling her. She lifted her hips, pressing up against the flood of moisture that bathed Kathryn’s thighs, and slid down beneath her, until her face was under Kathryn’s auburn thatch of hair. Kathryn nearly fainted as she felt Kieran’s mouth claim her, the velvet softness of her lips and tongue enclosing Kathryn’s sex with searing heat and tantalizing motion. Kathryn leaned back against Kieran’s legs, which were planted firmly on the bed, drawn up to give the older woman support should her pleasure weaken her.

Kieran devoured her with liquid caresses and gentle suckling, trapping her clit between possessive lips and fluttering her tongue over the firm nodule, driving Kathryn to the edge repeatedly, only to back off again. Bathed in sweat, Kathryn began to make desperate sounds, needful cries that escaped with each touch of Kieran’s agile tongue, and at last the Counselor relented, bringing the Captain to her pleasure once more.

Kathryn collapsed beside her lover, panting and sated, wrapped firmly in Kieran’s arms. Kieran held her until the overwhelming sensations eased, stroking her back with massaging fingers, ushering her back from the brink. Kathryn rested her head against Kieran’s shoulder, hand splayed over her belly, body curled tightly against the longer frame of her lover.

"I love you, you know," she said quietly, not a question at all.

"I know," Kieran hugged her tighter. "Was it okay for you?"

Kathryn let out a slow, throaty laugh. "Weren’t you there? I’d say ‘okay’ is not an adequate description. More like—amazing."

Kieran kissed her forehead tenderly. "Good. Can you sleep in my arms?"

"I could. But I’m not really tired," she moved her hand from Kieran’s belly to her breasts, fingers barely grazing the bronze skin. "You have such a dark tan," she murmured. "You must spend a lot of time at the beach."

Kieran closed her eyes, barely able to articulate a response as Kathryn’s fingers brushed lightly over her nipples. "I got hooked on surfing at the Academy," she managed, then a quick intake of breath interrupted her. "And I spend my off hours soaking up sunshine. I love to swim. It keeps me fit, and my tan is just a side effect."

Kathryn’s mouth closed around a full nipple, and Kieran could not sustain a coherent train of thought. Her body was suffused with pleasure, her breaths deep and shuddering. "That feels wonderful," she closed her eyes to concentrate on the sensation, a soft "oh" escaping her as she arched into Kathryn’s caress.

"So sensitive," Kathryn purred, shifting her attention to the second nipple. "I love the way you feel," she added, taking the small tip between her teeth and rolling it gently.

"Oh God," Kieran groaned. "Kat—"

Kathryn moved over her then, kissing her to catch the tortured sounds of her need. "Yes, my love, tell me," she whispered against Kieran’s lips. She moved down the considerable length of the Counselor’s body, kissing and sucking her flesh as she went, then resting her head on Kieran’s thigh. She parted Kieran’s labia with the faintest touch, easing them open for her eyes to drink in. She dropped her face for a tentative taste.

"So good," Kieran was beyond rational thought. "Oh Kat, so good," she gasped as Kathryn’s fingers found her wetness and slowly stroked in slick desire. Fingertips danced over Kieran’s clit, drawing deeper sounds from the passions of the young woman. When Kathryn sucked swollen lips into the warmth of her mouth, Kieran’s hands clutched at the sheets and she cried out sharply.

Kathryn wrapped her arms around Kieran’s thighs to anchor her, to stop her from wriggling away from the questing tongue that was driving her to an orgasmic release. Kathryn reveled in the sensation of Kieran’s node against her tongue, felt an answering new rush of wetness between her own legs, and slipped her fingers into Kieran’s walls as she flicked the tip of her tongue over it. Kieran could no longer form words as she came, her body flushed with passion, her vocalizations nonsensical and provocative.

As she reached a powerful peak, she called out Kathryn’s name, fingers tangled in her lover’s hair, trying to push her away. "No-no more, please," she begged for mercy, her body shaking with release.

Kathryn moved to hold her then. Their kisses were fierce and lingering in the aftermath of the experience, their emotions fragile and close to the surface.

"God, I have wanted you for so long," Kathryn told her with obvious relief. "I was so scared."

Kieran hugged her close, rolling on top of her once more. "Don’t be. I wanted you just as much," she peered down into steel gray eyes. "You are so important to me, Kathryn. I just didn’t want to take a chance on losing our friendship, not until the other day."

"When?" Kathryn snuggled against her lover, relishing the afterglow conversation of a newly discovered love.

"When you crashed your parasail. I think I laughed about it because I was so shaken up. The thought of losing you—" Kieran swallowed hard. "It hurt too much."

Kathryn smiled at the tears that welled in Kieran’s eyes. "And to think, I was afraid you would think I was a total klutz, and wouldn’t want me after that."

"On the contrary. It made me realize how much I feel for you. It shattered my complacency. Couldn’t you tell by the way I clung to you on the beach? I practically swallowed your poor, bruised body up. I couldn’t let go." Kieran searched her lover’s eyes for confirmation.

"I was in so much pain, I had to fall asleep," Kathryn admitted sheepishly.

Kieran snickered. "I know. I spent hours kissing your back and shoulders and neck, and you never even noticed."

"You did? And I missed it?" Kathryn wailed with disappointment. "Why did you stop when I woke up?"

"Remember? You were in agony. I walked you to sickbay. You were in no condition for—this," she indicated their naked state.

"I guess not," Kathryn admitted. "And you did stay with me that night."

Kieran thought about that night, how difficult it had been to sleep with Kathryn next to her. "I didn’t get any rest, but I didn’t have any fun, either," she admitted. "God, I wanted to kiss you."

"Why didn’t you then?" Kathryn looked up at her partner with a wistful expression.

Kieran kissed each of Kathryn’s eyelids, the tip of her nose, her chin. "Because you weren’t in any condition for what it would have led to, Kat," she whispered hoarsely. "I couldn’t have stopped it from happening, and you needed to rest. It wasn’t easy, believe me," she kissed her questioningly.

Kathryn sighed with contentment. "You’ll never have to hold back again," she grinned, feeling whole and at peace.

"Good thing," Kieran agreed, "because I already want you again."

___________

Kieran Thompson-Torres knew she was flushed with arousal, and she knew that Kathryn Janeway would recognize what the height of her color signified. She hoped that Kathryn wouldn’t mention it.

"That was some story," she drew a shaky breath. Then glancing down, she noticed Kathryn’s wedding ring. She took the older woman’s hand and drew it to her, looking at the design. "This is beautiful," she commented, tilting Kathryn’s hand to watch the stone catching the light.

"Yes it is. You—I mean, Kieran Janeway—bought the stone at a street vendor’s stall on Qian. It’s called a Hemet Stone."

Kieran studied the pale green translucent gem appreciatively. "I can see why she liked it."

"It’s the color of the sky on Qian. We were married there," Janeway withdrew her hand a bit abruptly. "May I see yours?"

Kieran obediently extended her hand. Kathryn chuckled. "It looks like something B'Elanna would choose, so I can believe you’re married to her. It’s lovely," she complimented.

"So is my wife," Kieran said with an ache in her chest. "You know, you and Seven are partly the reason B'Elanna and I met. The crew was on shore leave while we waited for you and Seven to return from your honeymoon, and B'Elanna and I met and started dating during that time."

"Did she ever date Tom Paris in your reality?" Kathryn asked mildly.

"Yes. During your honeymoon, she dumped Tom. I asked her out right away. Our first date was your first night back, and the crew had a big beach party on the planet we were visiting. It ended pretty badly though. Naomi was kidnapped, and I got shot by her captors. I don’t remember much after that. Not until after I got my artificial heart, anyway."

Kathryn was startled. "You must have been badly injured."

"I was dead," Kieran admitted. "But they got the new ticker installed pretty quickly, and I didn’t have any brain damage. At least, not that they told me, but now that I think about it, if I did, it would explain a lot," she joked.

"God, you are so much like her," Kathryn shook her head. "How can it be that you are so much alike, but you and your Janeway aren’t in love?"

Kieran shrugged. "In my timeline, you were married before I got to meet you personally. And you had loved Seven for so long, you’d have never noticed anyone else. And I have a definite thing about Klingon women," Kieran quirked an eyebrow suggestively.

Janeway nodded. "I know. Your lover at the Academy was a Klingon. P’Arth, wasn’t that her name?"

Kieran nodded. "When I started dating B'Elanna, it didn’t take much for me to fall for her."

Janeway got an odd look. "My Kieran is so gentle, so tender. Aren’t Klingons rather—aggressive?"

Kieran unbuttoned her uniform, revealing the jagged scars on her throat where B'Elanna had marked her on two different occasions. "Only a little," she showed Kathryn the marks.

"Dear God, that looks like it must have hurt," Kathryn tentatively touched the raised tissue with a fingertip.

"Honestly, it wasn’t like that. It was passionate and thrilling, and yes, aggressive, but not violent. And B'Elanna is the most loving woman. You should see her with Katie," Kieran felt her throat closing again, and pressed her hand over her mouth to stop herself from bursting into tears.

"Hey," Kathryn hugged her. "It’s okay. We’ll figure out a way to get you back to Katie and B'Elanna."

Kieran nodded, hugging Kathryn back. "And your Kieran back to you," she added.

____________

Kieran Janeway-Thompson had exchanged places with Kieran Thompson-Torres in a split second on the side of the rift where Kieran Thompson-Torres currently resided. The Delta Flyer that ended up with Kieran Thompson-Torres’ Voyager had taken much longer to appear as it traveled along a corridor of alternate universes. When it finally emerged, Kieran Janeway-Thompson had no idea she had arrived in a different place. Voyager was there, waiting for her.

"Voyager to Counselor Thompson," the hail came to her.

"Thompson here," she replied.

"Kieran, are you alright?" Janeway asked with enormous relief. "We thought we lost you there."

"Fine Captain. Permission to return to the ship?"

"Granted," Janeway agreed. "I’ll have B'Elanna meet you in the hangar."

Kieran Janeway assumed her wife was sending the Chief Engineer to look over the Delta Flyer, and didn’t give it another thought. When B'Elanna Thompson-Torres leapt at the startled young Counselor the instant she debarked the Flyer, Kieran shoved her away roughly. She looked over at Kathryn, who was watching with no small amount of surprise.

"Kat?" Kieran asked, confused. "Lieutenant?"

B'Elanna grabbed her again. "Kahless, you scared me," she laughed, tears running down her cheeks. "Oh my God, bangwIj," she touched Kieran’s face, "what the hell happened out there?"

"What the hell– ?" Kieran demanded. Then her eyes bugged out of her head. "B'Elanna? You aren’t pregnant anymore. You weren’t due for two more months. How—?"

B'Elanna’s face fell. "Honey, I had the baby four months ago. She’s your pride and joy. Oh, shit, you don’t remember," B'Elanna gasped. "Oh Kahless, Kieran, what is the last thing you do remember?"

Kieran was mightily confused. She cleared her throat, edging away from the distraught Klingon and toward her wife. "Well, Kathryn and I woke up early, and we—we—had a celebratory breakfast because my test was today," Kieran faltered, not wanting to come right out and say they had made love. "And then I met with your husband and he gave me some last minute instructions on the testing procedure—"

"Whoa, wait," B'Elanna held up her hand to forestall the recitation. "My husband?"

Kieran Janeway was getting irritated. "Yes. Your husband, my flight instructor, what the fuck is going on? You’re looking at me like I’m speaking Trill. Kathryn, is this a joke? Because, you know I love you, but your warped sense of humor is not welcome at the moment. I’ve just been through a very frightening ordeal."

Janeway moved between B'Elanna and Kieran to keep B'Elanna from having a fit. "Kieran," Kathryn said softly, "you and I—we woke up together this morning?"

Kieran moved to put her hands on Kathryn’s delicate waist, peering down lovingly at her wife. "We did, and we stayed in bed for quite awhile," she explained in a pleading voice. "Good God, how long have I been gone?" she demanded, face filling with fear. "If B'Elanna and Tom’s baby is four months old, I’ve been gone six months, at least," she pulled Kathryn to her, hugging her tightly. "You thought I was dead, didn’t you? You—oh, fuck, Kathryn, you didn’t have a funeral did you?" Kieran pushed her back and grabbed Janeway’s hand, searching for the wedding ring she had given her on Qian. "You’re not wearing my wedding ring anymore," she accused, more frightened than angry.

Just then, Seven of Nine, who had entered the shuttle bay moments before, said indignantly "Kathryn is wearing my wedding ring."

Kieran looked stricken. "Oh no, Kat, you couldn’t. You—but it’s only been six months! You’re already remarried?" she looked at Seven, then at Kathryn, growing more frantic. Tears welled in her eyes. "You’re remarried?" she gasped, disbelieving.

Kathryn put a steadying hand on Kieran’s shoulder. "Counselor, I am not remarried. I’ve only been married once. To Seven of Nine."

Realization hit B'Elanna Thompson-Torres like a brick wall at warp speed. "Kieran," she choked on her wife’s name. "Don’t you remember marrying me?" she extended her hands beseechingly.

Kieran shook her head slowly, apologetically. "I’m married to Kathryn Janeway," she repeated.

"Amnesia," B'Elanna decided. "A head injury," she added hopefully.

"Everybody, calm down," Janeway ordered. "This is not Kieran Torres, B'Elanna. This is not your wife." Kathryn grasped at any means to convince the Engineer. She reached out and gently pulled Kieran’s uniform open. "Look, B'Elanna, I’ll prove it. There are no Klingon mating ritual marks on her skin."

Kieran, seeing the devastating expression of pain on B'Elanna’s face, acquiesced to the demonstration, baring her throat obligingly. "I’m sorry, Lieutenant," she said softly. "But she’s right. I’m not who you think I am. In fact, I hardly know you at all. We’ve never even been close friends."

B'Elanna’s face was a myriad of confused emotions as she looked at the woman before her, inspected her skin once more, and shook her head in disbelief. "But—you—we—oh, Christ, you don’t even know about the baby, you think I’m married to Tom Paris?" She laughed weakly. "That’s rich."

Seven of Nine put a steadying arm around the Klingon, whose legs were decidedly wobbly. "B'Elanna, it will be all right," she assured her. "We’ll get your Kieran back," she promised, then to Kieran Janeway, she said "And we’ll get you back to your Kathryn." Seven made it all sound so matter of fact that everyone settled down a bit.

Kieran glanced shyly at Kathryn, who beheld her with a heartbreakingly sympathetic expression. "Are we even friends, you and I?" she asked, squaring her shoulders.

Kathryn nodded. "Best friends. Your daughter is named after me."

"Did we ever date?" Kieran needed to know.

"No. Never. I was married to Seven when I met you."

Just then, Naomi Wildman dashed into the shuttle bay. "KIERAN!" she hollered as she launched herself at the lanky Counselor. Instinctively, Kieran leaned down to scoop her up in a hug.

"Hey, Na," she squeezed her fondly. "Did you miss me?"

"You scared us," Naomi scolded. "But the Jellico maneuver was perfection," she praised her friend. "K-Mom said you’d never be able to pull it off, but I knew you would," she said triumphantly.

Kieran looked around with a puzzled expression. "K-Mom?"

Janeway cleared her throat. "Naomi," she began, "Borg-Mom and I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day. Shouldn’t you get back to your lessons?"

Naomi hugged Kieran again. "Okay. Put me down, silly," she said to the tall, wiry woman. "Bye Moms," she waved casually to Seven and Kathryn.

Kieran looked completely spent. "I’m almost afraid to ask. Why is she calling you Mom?"

"When Samantha Wildman died, Seven and I adopted Naomi."

Kieran went pale. "Sam is my best friend," she managed to say. "She and Chakotay are raising Naomi together."

Janeway nodded. "I know you’re in shock, Counselor—you are the ship’s Counselor, on your Voyager, aren’t you?" she waved her hand to indicate Kieran’s Lieutenant’s pips.

"Yes," she affirmed. "But here, I have a child?"

B'Elanna crossed her arms, a hurtful look in her dark eyes. "With me," she said tersely.

Seven of Nine took over. "Ladies, we need to get to work. We’re wasting time. We have to figure out how to get this Kieran back to her timeline. And how to get our Kieran back."

"Agreed," Kathryn nodded curtly. Let’s call the senior staff together. We need all the help we can get."

____________

Kieran Thompson-Torres was at loose ends aboard a Voyager that was not her own. She felt so alone and adrift, uncertain of what to do while the crew tried to solve her spatial displacement. As she would do on her own ship when she was depressed, she decided to find Naomi Wildman.

Naomi agreed to meet her on the holodeck so they could go for a long walk. The bright eyed little girl arrived precisely on time, and ran to the Counselor to hug her. "Hi Kieran," she greeted her in muffled tones as she buried her face in the woman’s belly.

"Hi honey," Kieran responded, trying to sound cheerful.

Naomi looked up at her. "I know you’re not MY Kieran, but when I look at you, I can’t tell the difference." She took Kieran’s hand as naturally as ever. "I’m glad Captain Thompson told everyone the truth about you, finally. My mom was pretty confused when you didn’t remember the things she remembers." Naomi sighed. "In your timeline, do you like me?"

Kieran crouched down before the Ktarian, meeting her hazel eyes. "In my timeline, Na, you and I are very close. I love you with all my heart, and you feel the same."

Naomi grinned. "Then it’s not different, after all. You and I are like family," Naomi affirmed. "You and my Mom are great friends, and you and the Captain spend lots of time with us."

"Do we play Kadis-Kot?" Kieran smiled warmly.

"Uh huh. I usually beat you, too. But you’re teaching me to play basketball. Gosh, I wish you could already know this stuff," she gave the Counselor a quizzical grin.

Kieran stood up and took the small girl’s hand in her own. "Me too. But we’ll muddle through. In any universe, I can’t get by without my Naomi," she squeezed her hand as they walked along the trail in Flotter’s world.

Naomi gazed up at Kieran with obvious adoration. "I can’t get by without you, either," she echoed the sentiment.

______________

Kieran Thompson-Torres prepared to engage the launch sequence from the cockpit of the Delta Flyer. The shuttle bay doors opened, and she verified with the bridge that she was ready to proceed.

"Counselor, as soon as you see the rift," Seven of Nine stated flatly, "you must go to warp."

"Understood," Kieran replied tightly. "Departure countdown commencing. In five…four…three…two…one…"

She hit the control keys and felt the Flyer lift off. She moved at thrusters only until she cleared the doors, and jumped to half impulse. "I see the rift. I’m going in. So long, Voyager," she said as she engaged warp drive.

"God Speed, Kieran," Kathryn whispered as the Flyer elongated and shot off.

The Flyer shook violently as it entered the torn fabric of space and time, and Kieran wondered if the craft would break apart from the hull stress. She gritted her teeth, held tight to the conn, and waited to see where she would emerge. As she shot along the corridor of alternate realities, she saw another Delta Flyer pass by at a close clip. For a terrified moment, she thought the two vessels would collide, but they narrowly missed each other.

Kieran braced herself as she exited the interdimensional corridor, but she blacked out. When she awoke, she was no longer on board the shuttle. She tried to force her eyes to focus in the darkness, and became vaguely aware of a slender body next to her. Oh shit. This is not B'Elanna. Not nearly enough heat coming off her body. And our quarters don’t look like this in the dark. It’s not Kathryn. The smell isn’t right. It’s definitely a woman, though.

Kieran gingerly slipped out of bed, hoping she wouldn’t trip over anything in the foreign environment. She froze in mid tiptoe when a sleepy voice asked "Where are you going?"

She did not recognize the voice. "Sorry I woke you," she muttered.

"Computer, one quarter lights," the stranger ordered. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

Kieran bit her lip before she turned around. A tousled looking, sleepy eyed Rachel McVicker lay naked in the bed, barely concealed by the sheet over the small twin mattress. "I’m fine. I just need to go back to my place," she lied.

"This is your place, Kieran. Are you sleep walking?" Rachel yawned, stretching like a cat.

"No, sorry, just a little disoriented. Listen, I um, left something in my office, I need to go get it."

Now Rachel was really worried. "Your office? Kieran," she said impatiently, "come back to bed. You don’t have an office."

Oh fuck. Careful. "I meant the lab. Not my office, the lab. I uh—promised Sam I’d get some data to her by tomorrow morning."

Rachel sighed and dragged herself from beneath the sheet. She wrapped the taller woman in a firm embrace. "Honey, Sam has been dead for two years. Now come back to bed."

"I need some space, Rach, that’s all," Kieran persisted. "I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back soon. Okay?"

Rachel pouted. "No, but go ahead. You always do what you want anyway. But if I’m not here when you come back, don’t be surprised," she added petulantly.

Great. I’m fucking up somebody else’s relationship. What am I supposed to say? What do I do? I don’t want to ruin this Kieran’s life, and Rachel is a great person. But shit, I don’t want to explain this again.

"Please, Rach, don’t leave. I just need to stretch my legs. Don’t be upset, honey," she ventured.

Rachel relaxed a little. "Well, okay, but don’t take long. I love you, KT." She lifted herself up to kiss her partner.

Kieran kissed her back, just to avoid an incident. "Sleep well. I’ll try not to wake you when I come back."

Kieran practically ran to Captain Janeway’s quarters. She leaned against the door, panting, catching her breath before she rang the chime. Desperate to get her bearings in her latest world, she touched the doorbell pad. No answer. She glanced at the name plate. Capt. Kathryn Janeway. At least that part is right, she thought with a small prayer for normalcy. She rang again, and heard the muffled sound of Kathryn Janeway being awakened from a deep sleep.

"Hang on, I’m on my way," Janeway growled with irritation as she pulled on her robe. "Okay, okay," she muttered, and tapped the release on her door.

"I’m sorry, Kathryn, but I need to talk to you right away," Kieran said in a rush as she pushed her way into the Captain’s Quarters. "I don’t belong here. I got separated from my timeline," she forged on without pause.

"Hold it, hold it," Janeway brushed her hair back from her face. "First things first. Do you have a name, young lady?"

Kieran stood staring, open mouthed. "I’m your best friend, Kat," Kieran replied lamely, then shook her head. "But I doubt you know it. Hell, in this timeline, I’m probably still working in the exobio lab," she said miserably. "My name is Kieran Thompson. This is not my Voyager. I’m your Ship’s Counselor, in my time and space. I take it you don’t even know who I am in this time and space," she started to pace.

"I do know you. You’re friends with one of Seven’s co-workers, Rachel McVicker. You’re an Ensign in Exobiology. You took Sam Wildman’s position when she died. Now what is all this about timelines, and Ship’s Counselors? We don’t have a Ship’s Counselor, though nothing would make me happier."

Without being invited, Kieran threw herself down on the sofa. "I was taking my pilot certification exam. You—I mean my Kathryn Janeway, who is my best friend—was proctoring the exam. I got swallowed by a spatial rift. I ended up on a totally different Voyager, and on that ship, Kathryn Janeway and I were married. They figured out how to send me back into the rift. So I was speeding happily along, thinking I would be back on my ship, and the next thing I know, I wake up next to Rachel McVicker, whom I barely know, and here I am, talking to my best friend, who doesn’t even know me. Does this fucking nightmare ever end?" Kieran hid her face in her hands.

Janeway considered calling security, but decided against it. The woman sounded lucid enough. "Well, Ensign," she tried to add a little levity, "maybe if you had shown up at my door in something besides your pajamas, I’d have reacted a bit more cordially."

Kieran jumped up and looked at herself. Silk boxer shorts and an A-shirt, and barefoot. "Oh, Captain, I apologize," she smacked her own forehead. "Even in my timeline, I’d never show up half dressed. I mean we’re very close, but I—well—"

"Let me get you a robe. Seven’s should fit you," Kathryn smiled, trying to comfort the distraught woman.

"You’re married to her, right?" Kieran asked hopefully. Kathryn nodded, a peculiar look on her face. "Thank the Gods. At least something is right in this timeline."

Kathryn laughed at that. "Well, there’s a resounding endorsement. I’ll be right back."

She returned with a bulky terry cloth robe, which Kieran immediately wrapped around herself. "Thanks. Did you and Seven adopt Naomi Wildman?"

Kathryn quirked an eyebrow. "Nope. Neelix is raising her. Did we, in your timeline?"

"Yes. What about your own daughter—do you have a baby? A little girl named Gretchen?"

Kathryn looked startled. "I’m pregnant. Not very far along. But we have decided to name her Gretchen, and nobody but Seven and I know that," she concluded that she was probably not talking to a crazy woman. "You’re really from an alternate universe?"

Kieran nodded sadly. "I suppose B'Elanna is married to Tom Paris, instead of me, in your world," she said bitterly.

Kathryn let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Tom Paris? Hardly," she fanned herself to cool her cheeks. "Sorry, but that cracked me up. B'Elanna is married to Commander Chakotay. And Tom—well, he doesn’t much care for women, if you know what I mean. He and Harry Kim—well, ahem, I guess that’s not really relevant. Tell me about this spatial rift. No, wait. Let me get Seven and B'Elanna up. They need to hear the specifics, if we’re going to get you on your way again," Janeway headed for the replicator. "Coffee, black. Ensign, can I get you something?"

"How about a narcotic," Kieran said sarcastically. "Coffee would be great, Captain."

_____________

Kieran Janeway-Thompson’s vessel screamed into the expanse of the starfield at the end of the spatial corridor. She glanced out the forward windshield. "What the hell happened to the ship?" she demanded, her mouth open in disbelief. "And why haven’t they hailed me? Good God, look at it. The hull is covered with Borg enhancements. It must make up forty-five percent of the ship’s components," she muttered. "I’ll try to raise them," she punched the console controls.

A splinter of eerie green light shot from Voyager, a Borg tractor beam that gripped the Flyer in the tendrils of its embrace. "What the fuck—" Kieran cursed as the familiar voices resonated in the tiny shuttle.

"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

"I hope this is a bad joke," Kieran muttered as she dissolved into a mass of swirling particles and rematerialized on the bridge of Voyager.

She gaped in terror as the fully assimilated Seven of Nine regarded her with cold disinterest. She was clearly in command of the ship, and flanked on all sides by former members of the crew, who were now drones, as evidenced by various cybernetic implants and the pallor of their skin. Kieran gazed in astonishment at B'Elanna’s twin, who despite invasive Borg implants still had obvious Klingon brow ridges. She frantically searched the bridge for Kathryn Janeway, and did not find her drone counterpart. "Where is Captain Janeway" was the only thing she managed to say before Seven of Nine backhanded her.

"Silence!" she hissed in a voice that was almost identical to the Seven Kieran knew. "Kathryn Janeway is dead," she said without emotion. She extended her arm, jammed assimilation tubules into Kieran’s throat, and injected Kieran Janeway-Thompson with nanoprobes. "Your uniqueness will be added to our own," she said with a hollow resonance. No one even noticed that Kieran was screaming.

It became apparent through the hive collective mind that this Voyager was not her Voyager. She instantly knew that the deal Kathryn Janeway had made with the Borg while fighting species 8472 had gone awry, thanks to Chakotay’s mishandling of the incident. Janeway had died, in that timeline. The Borg had rebelled when Chakotay double crossed them, and the entire ship had been assimilated. In a flash of agonized awareness coupled with one final aching pang of regret, Kieran Janeway-Thompson knew she would never see her wife again.

________

"Captain!" Seven of Nine called out from her station. "I am reading Borg signatures on the other side of the rift!"

Janeway shot out of her chair. "Goddamnit, get her back," she shouted.

"She’s gone," Harry Kim reported.

"Then open the rift again. We’ll go get her," Janeway whirled on the young Ensign at Ops, wild-eyed.

"That is inadvisable Captain," Tuvok rationally pointed out. "We do not know if we will be able to return to our own time. And for all we know, that universe contains a more formidable Borg."

Seven of Nine folded her hands behind her back. "I concur. We should not risk it."

Janeway looked helplessly at her wife, then at her Security Chief, plainly crestfallen. "Isn’t there anything we can do?"

"Hope the Borg don’t come through that rift to our side of space and time," Tom Paris muttered.

Kathryn stared at the blackness before her, the stars blazing brilliantly as if nothing had gone wrong at all. She couldn’t help feeling like she had sent her best friend to die. No, your wife, she reminded herself. She was married to you. And now she’s probably Borg. And somewhere, there’s a Kathryn Janeway who is a widow, and doesn’t even know it. And there’s not a thing you can do about it. Nothing.

"I’ll be in my ready room," Janeway informed her bridge crew with total disgust.

After nearly an hour had passed with the sullen Captain staring out into space, wondering if her best friend was permanently lost, Seven of Nine decided she had waited long enough and went to see her spouse.

"Where is she now, Seven?" Janeway asked absently as Seven entered. "Is she trying to get back to us?"

"I would expect nothing less of her, Kathryn. And I do not want you to worry about Kieran Janeway. I have been reviewing the ship’s historical logs. It is likely that Kieran Janeway’s reality no longer exists. Nor does the Borg reality we sent her to."

Kathryn spun in her chair, looking across her desk. "Explain."

Seven folded her hands neatly in her lap. "There was an incident on the original Enterprise. When a being is displaced in space and time, and confronts its duplicate from another space and time, their respective universes cease to exist."

Janeway considered. "The Lazarus syndrome. But that was a unique situation, where an antimatter universe and the matter universe intersected. This appears to be a situation where there are multiple universes of matter that are joined by a spatial scission."

"Yes. But if you consider the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle and Feynman’s analysis of the summation of realities, histories also cancel each other. If you put a duplicate of Kieran in a reality where she already exists, the two realities’ histories will cancel each other."

"Okay, I follow that. So you’re thinking Kieran Janeway and the Borg reality are somehow cancelled?"

"Further analysis of the Borg signature readings I got from inside the rift indicates that that was not an ordinary Borg vessel. It was Voyager, with a substantial amount of Borg technology."

Janeway frowned. "I’m not following you, Seven."

"I believe that we sent Kieran Janeway to a Voyager that was taken over by the Borg. If I am right, then Kieran Janeway was assimilated by the Borg. There would be two Kieran Thompsons in that dimension, and their respective realities would cease to exist."

"So Kieran Janeway’s wife is not somewhere missing her?" Janeway could almost sense a reason to feel hopeful.

"It would stand to reason that Kieran Janeway’s Kathryn no longer exists."

Kathryn rested her hands over her face. "Ugh! These temporal problems give me a headache, Seven. So you’re telling me, if our Kieran comes back at the same time another Kieran shows up, we’ll wink out of existence too?"

Seven hadn’t considered that. She cocked her head. "Theoretically, yes."

"And if our Kieran ends up in a timeline where she has a duplicate, we’ll also disappear?" Seven nodded. "Swell. Any other good news?"

Seven smirked. "It’s time for you to feed Gretchen," she nodded at Janeway’s leaking breasts.

"Moo," Janeway replied without humor.

_____________

Kieran Thompson-Torres was exhausted from listening to Seven of Nine’s explanation of the spatial displacement she had experienced.

"God, my head hurts," Kathryn Janeway complained. "So where is the Kieran Thompson that is supposed to be on my ship?" she demanded to know. "She obviously can’t be here, because if she were, we’d have been destroyed the minute this Kieran showed up."

Seven shrugged. "I cannot explain where she is or might be. Since our Kieran was not on a shuttle, she could not have entered any rift, as this Kieran did," she pointed at the bewildered woman before her. "But I must conclude she is not here."

"Then if we send this Kieran into a rift, how do we get our Kieran back?"

B'Elanna sipped her coffee pensively. "Maybe we don’t. But we can’t keep this one," she nodded toward her indifferently.

Kieran’s temper flared. "Could you refrain from talking about me as if I’m not here?"

"Sorry," B'Elanna forced a conciliatory smile. "I just can’t quite adjust to the idea that you look at me and see your wife."

"My wife and the mother of my child," Kieran reminded her. "A child I have an obligation to help raise. I have to get back," she urged them.

"We can open a rift and send her through, the same way she got here," B'Elanna persisted in speaking of Kieran in the third person. "I’ll need a couple of days to work out the remaining details."

"Great. And then what do we tell Rachel?" Janeway asked.

B'Elanna held out her hands in supplication. "I’m an Engineer, not a psychologist."

Kieran sighed. "I’m a psychologist. I’ll talk to her before I leave," she offered dismally.

"Works for me," Janeway agreed. "I can go with you if you like."

"You’d better. I’m sure she thinks I’ve lost my mind. After all, I didn’t know I was in my own quarters, didn’t know Sam Wildman was dead, and thought I had an office."

Janeway lay a consoling hand on Kieran’s thigh. "If I have a headache, you must be ready to jump out an airlock by now."

"Only if it gets me home," Kieran sighed.

_______________

Naomi Wildman was staying with B'Elanna Thompson-Torres for the time being, trying to keep her company, assist with baby Katie, and distract the dejected Klingon from the fact that her soulmate was missing. It had been two days since Voyager had sent Kieran Janeway back through the rift, and still, there was no sign of Kieran Thompson-Torres.

B'Elanna was losing hope entirely. It seemed to her that eventually, Voyager would have to resume its course back to the Alpha Quadrant, and she didn’t know how long she could expect Janeway to wait. Of course, it didn’t hurt the cause that Kieran was Janeway’s closest friend, or that Janeway’s daughter was deeply emotionally attached to the Counselor. B'Elanna trusted that Kathryn would keep Voyager in this region as long as she felt it was possible Kieran might come back. But the rest of the crew was already starting to grumble about how futile it was to hold out hope.

It seemed that everytime B'Elanna walked into a room, conversation stopped. She was starting to feel like a fish in a bowl, with everyone staring at her. When she withdrew to her own quarters, Naomi insisted on serving as her companion. B'Elanna suspected Janeway had sent the young Bridge Assistant to spy, but either way, she was too numb to really care why the little Ktarian had taken up residence in her quarters. If it made Kathryn and Seven feel better knowing someone was watching over her, B'Elanna was fine with that.

Katie Torres was the longest infant Naomi had ever seen, with slender limbs like Kieran’s, but with B'Elanna’s face, including the prominent Klingon brow ridges and dark hair. Naomi could spend hours talking nonsense to the happy little girl, who loved to have her legs stretched and exercised, and who found Naomi’s long strawberry blonde hair fascinating. Katie had only recently begun to truly be aware of her physical surroundings, and anything shiny she could grasp in her acquisitive little hands was instantly snatched and tangled in her fingers. Naomi’s hair was a frequent captive of that iron fisted grip. To her credit, Naomi never complained, though Katie tugged and yanked and brought tears to the Ktarian’s eyes on occasion.

After five days had passed, B'Elanna noticed that crew members no longer stopped talking when she entered the messhall or Sandrine’s. They went right on discussing the missing Counselor, and some were becoming more vocal about how ridiculous it was to keep Voyager poised in the vicinity of the rift, since it was clear that Kieran was never coming back.

Naomi had dragged B'Elanna down to eat dinner, as instructed by her surrogate mothers, and the four women had tried bravely to keep up a conversation throughout a particularly bad Talaxian Nehrad Casserole. They deliberately avoided discussing their missing comrade, though it was apparent to anyone who had eyes that B'Elanna had spent the day crying, and Janeway was drawn and thin looking. Kathryn picked at her food, despite encouragement from Seven, who scolded her for failing to ingest sufficient nutrients to support her own lactic production.

As Naomi and B'Elanna were leaving, they skirted the table of several crewmen from the lower decks, who did nothing to temper their comments.

"Nobody is sorrier than I am, but we have to get going. I mean I feel sorry for Torres, but we have families we’d like to get back, too," one man said loudly.

"Exactly," one of the men said gruffly. "She’s never coming back, and it’s time Janeway accepted it and we left."

Naomi Wildman overheard his comment and wheeled on him abruptly. "Don’t you say that!" she hollered, bringing all conversation in the dining hall to a screeching halt. "You take that back, you—you—piss poor excuse for human life!"

She would have flown at him with her fists if not for B'Elanna’s restraining grasp on the back of her tunic. "Na, it’s okay," she grabbed the angry girl from behind. "It’s okay. He’s entitled to his opinion," B'Elanna glared at the crewman with pure hatred, "even if he is an honorless p’taQ."

"Kieran is coming home, you old windbag," she shouted at him as Kathryn and Seven ushered her out of the mess hall. B'Elanna was trying not to burst into tears, but also fought not to laugh at the slew of insults Naomi was still hurling at the astonished crewman. "You pile of Terkalian cat shit! You motherless son of a drone! You look like a Vidian with phage on your face!" Naomi shouted back at him.

B'Elanna decided from the litany that maybe Naomi might be able to teach her a few choice cuss words, and that had to be worth something. And Kieran would have died laughing at the Ktarian’s tirade. Knowing that cheered her considerably.

"Young lady," Kathryn Janeway deposited the aggravated Bridge Assistant on the deck, "control yourself. Good lord, girl, where did you get that mouth?"

Seven crossed her arms and glared at Kathryn. "From you, darling," she said pointedly.

Janeway scowled at her wife, but knew the accusation was on target. "Naomi," Kathryn tried to cool her own anger, "I know this is difficult for you. We’re all upset. We all miss Kieran. But you can’t go around verbally assaulting my crew just because they piss you off."

Naomi stamped her foot impatiently. "Why not? You do!"

Kathryn crossed her arms. "When did you ever hear me call one of my crew a steaming heap of Hirogen vomit?" Janeway demanded, suppressing the grin that was threatening at the corners of her lips. "Or a leola-root head?" she started to lose the tenuous hold she had on her face, and started to chuckle. "And I don’t think I’ve ever called anyone a retromingent pedophilic Kazon with dandruff," Janeway slapped her thigh and doubled over.

Seven was smirking, her best approximation of a belly laugh. B'Elanna was hooting loudly. "That was a pretty creative one," Naomi admitted. "I’m sorry, K-Mom, but he just made me so mad. Kieran is coming home, and nobody better say different."

"Oh, Naomi," B'Elanna grabbed the youngster and hugged her, "you are a joy," she wiped her eyes, still laughing. "I know I shouldn’t encourage her," she apologized to Seven and Kathryn, "but holy Kahless, I needed a good laugh," she gasped, dissolving into giggles again.

"She is," Naomi repeated, as if to demand confirmation from the adults.

Kathryn sobered at her daughter’s earnest expression. "We all believe it, Naomi," she patted her shoulder, "And we all want her to. But you have to realize, there’s a chance she might not be able to come back to us."

"Kieran can do anything," Naomi insisted. "She’ll be back," she stated with the faith only a child can have.

____________

Kieran Thompson-Torres had been avoiding seeing Rachel McVicker face to face ever since she arrived on this Voyager. She had been careful to send little notes to Rachel’s comm account, just to keep the peace for her missing counterpart until the displaced Kieran could reunite with this Rachel. She hoped that the news about her spatial displacement wouldn’t leak from the senior staff to the rest of the crew, and she finally sent Rachel a note, explaining she was working on a special project, and wouldn’t be seeing her for awhile. In the meantime, she accessed Ensign Kieran Thompson’s personal logs.

"Computer, search personal logs of Ensign Kieran Thompson for the first occurrence of a reference to Rachel McVicker. Play that log back."

The computer chirped and a recorded image of Kieran, still in her sleeping attire of silk boxer shorts and a ragged muscle shirt, appeared on the workstation viewscreen:

Tampa is great. Seven and the Captain’s wedding was incredible, and everyone there was pretty moved by it. After the ceremony, I went to the beach with a group of friends, and I played some football. There was this woman there—a gorgeous Ensign who just got reassigned to Astrometrics from security. Kieran’s eyes grew dreamy. Rachel McVicker. Oh my God, she’s so beautiful! Long, black hair, piercing green eyes, and legs to die for. But it’s not just her appearance that draws me—well, that’s a big part too, but she’s clever. Very witty. And she seems to think I’m pretty funny. I think she was flirting with me at the bonfire last night. She sat next to me the whole evening, and when her buddies beamed back to the ship, she stayed behind to talk to me some more. Damn, I wish I’d asked her out. I don’t know what stopped me.

Well, that’s not true, I know exactly what stopped me. B'Elanna Torres. I ran into her, literally, yesterday, playing football. Knocked her flat. And as I was lying on top of all five feet four inches of delectable Klingon, I saw something in her eyes. A spark, I guess, or a flicker of attraction. And I had to consciously stop myself from kissing her. I mean, shit, I hardly know her, and there I was thinking about making out with her. She got kind of pissy with me, though, and shoved me off of her. She made a beeline back to her boyfriend—Commander Chakotay—after that. I accidentally cut her face when I ran into her, and the second she was back with him, he whipped out a dermal regenerator and fixed the mark, thank God. I wouldn’t want to see anything mar that incredible Klingon face. And all night, even while Rachel and I were talking, I kept getting flashes of B'Elanna in my mind, and wishing I had just gone ahead and kissed her. I know, really stupid, because she probably would have kicked my ass.

I hope my Klingon cravings don’t keep me from asking Rachel out, if I get another chance. In fact, I should end this entry and send her a note. No use chasing women that are already taken, is there? Computer, end log.

"Holy shit. I almost ended up with B'Elanna in this dimension, too. Well, not really very close, but at least it’s closer than the last time around," Kieran muttered to herself. "Computer, play next log entry that references Rachel McVicker."

Well, I didn’t have to wait long to find out if I was right about Rachel flirting with me. I was just about to send her a note after that last log entry, and before I could compose it, she sent me a dinner invitation. Kieran grinned wickedly. That was two days ago, and I haven’t been in my own quarters again since then, she waggled her eyebrows. Good lord, she’s a passionate woman. And sweet. She actually showed up for our date with roses for me. I mean, as always, with women, you never know if they’re asking you out on a real date, or just asking to get together to hang out, but it was pretty obvious when she came to my door with flowers what her intentions were. And I took the bait hook, line, and sinker. We talked about everything. I’m not even sure what we ate for dinner, I was so taken with her. She just absorbed my attention like a sponge, and before we knew it, it was almost midnight. We beamed down to Tampa to walk on the beach in the moonlight. I didn’t know I was such a sucker for romance, but she must have known, somehow, because it was just—perfect, that’s all I can say. That first night, we didn’t even kiss, we just held hands and walked and talked and talked some more. And she really listened. God, that’s so rare, to find another person who cares what you have to say. We ended up falling asleep on the blanket we took, and held each other all night.

I was totally exhausted the next morning, but in a good way, a happy way. Then yesterday, after we woke up, we went back to her quarters to have some breakfast, and oh God, what a morning we had. I never knew breakfast could be so—erotic. It was weird, like the air between us was supercharged with electricity, and one minute, we were having a proper breakfast of bacon and eggs, and the next we were kissing and touching each other, food completely forgotten, and stumbling into her bedroom. We spent the whole day in bed. I had forgotten what it was like to be made love to, really indulged. Kieran shivered with the memory. She is astonishing. I can’t remember P’Arth ever making me come like that, so intensely and so often. And I know Robin never affected me that way, either. I hope I didn’t scare her, because I was certainly out of control, groaning and gasping and just losing myself in the sheer ecstasy of her skill. But then, Kieran grinned, I made some pretty interesting sounds come out of her, too. We finally got out of bed late in the afternoon, and went to a beach party last night. We didn’t stay long—just long enough to make a proper appearance and then we beamed back to her room and made love all night.

It was odd, though. Rachel and I ran into B'Elanna Torres at the party last night, and she wasn’t with Chakotay. She acted like she had been looking for me, when she saw me. Until she saw Rachel and I holding hands, and then she got all flustered, like she was embarrassed. It was peculiar, to say the least, but maybe she didn’t know I’m gay. When Rach and I left, B'Elanna seemed sad, almost, like there was something she wanted from us. I would have liked to have known what was bothering her, but I couldn’t really ask, not with Rachel giving me that look. God, what eyes that woman has. Like fiery emeralds, so full of desire, so hypnotic.

Today she and I are spending the day with a group of her friends from her old posting in security. I hope I can keep my hands off of her. Everytime I think of her, I just get weak in the knees. I know, I know. I’ve got it bad. I hope she has it as bad as me. I caught myself before I blurted out that I love her, this morning. It’s too soon to say things like that, even if I feel them. I don’t want to blow this, not like I did with P’Arth, and not like I did with Robin. The computer recording picked up a door chime, and Kieran turned her back to the scanner. Come in, she called out.

B'Elanna Torres stood in the doorway. The scanner kept recording.

Hi, B'Elanna said demurely, have you got a minute?

Sure, Kieran replied, come in. Can I get you anything? I was just getting ready to beam back down to the planet.

I, uh, I—can I ask you something personal? B'Elanna hesitated. I mean, I know I don’t really know you, or anything, but—I…

Of course, Lieutenant, anything you want to ask is fine, Kieran tried to reassure the fidgeting Klingon.

I wanted to know, if maybe, sometime, you’d like to take me on—at velocity, I mean. I heard you’re pretty good, and I could use a challenge. I’m pretty tired of beating Tom and Harry all the time.

Kieran nodded. Sure. I’m a little rusty, since getting lost out here, but I’d be glad to dust off my phaser. When I saw you last night, I had a feeling you wanted to ask me something, she commented.

Actually, there was something else I intended to ask you, but I think it probably wasn’t a good idea. You, um, you and Rachel McVicker, you’re—seeing each other?

Kieran nodded. For about two days, she chuckled. Why? Were you going to ask her out?

No, I was going to ask you out, but obviously, I’m a couple of days too late, B'Elanna grinned ruefully.

Kieran was completely stunned in the recording, as if it never occurred to her that B'Elanna would be interested. Kieran Thompson-Torres, who was watching the playback, shook her head. "Dumb ass," she insulted her counterpart. "It’s just like me to think she’d only want the pretty one—Rachel."

Kieran on the log recording smiled sadly. I’m sorry, B'Elanna. If you’d have asked two days ago, I’d have been enormously pleased to go, but things have changed. I’m pretty involved with Rachel.

That was quick, Ensign, B'Elanna commented. But I’m glad for you. So, velocity? That is, unless your time is completely taken for now.

No, I think I can find some time for a little exercise, Lieutenant. Send me a court time and I’ll be there.

"Unreal," Kieran said aloud. "Forty eight hours made the difference in who I married, in this time line. Or who I would have married—will marry," she shook her head. "Christ," she groaned. "I’m giving myself a headache again. Computer, close logs."

 

Not wanting to get bogged down in missing B'Elanna any worse than she already did, Kieran once again sought out Naomi Wildman, though it was a different Naomi Wildman than any of the others she had met before. This Naomi Wildman was being raised by Neelix, as Janeway had told her, and Kieran went to their quarters. Neelix recognized Kieran right away, and from the briefing Janeway had held with the staff, he knew that this was a different Kieran Thompson than the one he had met before.

"Come in, Ensign," he waved her into the room. "Or, wait, it’s Lieutenant, on your Voyager. What can I do for you?"

"Are you the morale officer on Voyager?" she tentatively asked.

"The one and only," he replied brightly.

"And are you raising Naomi Wildman?"

"Guilty as charged," he smiled. "Won’t you have a seat? Can I get you anything? I have some leftover Andorian Spice Tarts—"

"No thank you. I actually wanted to see Naomi, Neelix. She and I are very close in my reality, and, well—I"

"Say no more," he patted Kieran’s arm. "Naomi!" he called out. "You have a visitor. Could you come out here please?"

"Sure, Neelix," the automatic reply echoed from the Ktarian’s bedroom. "Hello," she greeted the Counselor shyly. "Aren’t you that woman that has my mom’s job?"

"Sweeting," Neelix explained gently, "this is Kieran Thompson. Remember I told you about her? She’s lost, just like all of us on this Voyager. She wants to talk to you."

"Okay," Naomi agreed, and crossed her arms expectantly.

"How about if we go for a walk in the arboretum?" Kieran suggested.

"I—uh, don’t really like it," Naomi looked furtively at Neelix. "Maybe all three of us could go."

Kieran was stunned. "You don’t know me, do you Naomi?"

"Why would I? You don’t know me, either," she looked perplexed.

Kieran felt self-conscious. This Naomi was a stranger to her counterpart, and had no history with her or memories of her. "I’m sorry," she stammered. "I shouldn’t have come. It’s just, on my Voyager, Naomi and I are very close friends. I was hoping we were on this Voyager, too."

Naomi shrugged. "If you’re gonna be around for very long, we can get to know each other, if you want," she sounded bored.

Neelix could see how hurt Kieran was. He did his best to help. "Naomi, why don’t you show Kieran the arboretum? You know, since she’s from a different Voyager, ours might be very different from hers. And Captain Janeway would be very glad to know that you performed a diplomatic function on the ship—a sort of interim Ambassador. Maybe she might reconsider making you her Bridge Assistant," he coaxed.

Naomi gave it some thought, then reluctantly agreed. "Well, okay. Come on, Lieutenant," she still sounded disinterested.

Kieran tagged along, struck by the difference in this Naomi. After conversing for only a few minutes, it was clear that this Naomi’s vocabulary was very limited, compared to the Naomi Kieran knew, and this Naomi’s emotional maturity was also less advanced. The contrast was startling to the Counselor, who attributed the vast majority of the discrepancies to the fact that Naomi, in the reality this Kieran knew, was being raised by Seven and Kathryn. Kieran vaguely wondered if she and B'Elanna might deserve any credit for how much more developed their Naomi had become compared to this ordinary little girl that could hardly be persuaded to leave her quarters.

More than the intellectual qualities that were missing, Kieran sensed this Naomi had become stunted by the death of her mother, and Neelix was not equipped to compensate for that, despite how hard he must be trying. The half human half Ktarian child was closed emotionally, almost defensive. She didn’t look at her surroundings with wonder. She didn’t have that same openness and inquisitiveness. What rankled in Kieran’s awareness was that this Naomi didn’t have any desire to get to know her, couldn’t care less that Kieran was making the effort, and would most likely never give the lanky woman a second thought once she left this Voyager.

Kieran had never felt so lonely in all her life.

"This is some plant from Qian," Naomi recited without enthusiasm. "They make paper out of it, and clothes. I forget what it’s called. It smells nasty," she commented disdainfully. "So do the people on Qian," she added.

Kieran was shocked to hear such a denouncement from someone she had grown to know as tolerant and accepting, but she kept her thoughts to herself. "Maybe they think we smell nasty," she said mildly.

"But we don’t," Naomi argued. "They smell like this dumb plant." Naomi moved along the displays of plants and vegetation, clearly feeling the discussion was settled. "This is a fruit they eat on Dragis Two. It tastes like targ turds, if you ask me. Neelix makes some pudding out of it, but nobody likes it. Everybody makes fun of him behind his back because his cooking is awful," she reported matter-of-factly. "But he doesn’t even know it, he’s so clueless," she said with a superior tone. "My mom was smart. She knew everything," she said softly.

Kieran lay a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. "You must miss her," she said with feeling.

"Yeah. But it doesn’t matter. She’s not comin’ back. Lookit this thing," she shifted her focus again. "It’s from earth. It’s called a cactus. Prickly old thing. Hardly needs any water at all. Neelix says it’s ada—adap—" she struggled over the word.

"Adaptable?" Kieran assisted.

"Yeah, that. Whatever that means. I guess it means it learned to live without water."

Kieran nodded. "That’s right. Tell me, Naomi, what do you like to do with your time?"

The strawberry blonde rubbed the tiny horns on her forehead distractedly. "I don’t know. There’s not much to do on Voyager. My mom told me on earth, there’s parks and stuff, places to play, and kids to play with. Here, there’s just a bunch of grownups with a lot of work to do. They give me all kinds of work to do, too, so they don’t have to play with me."

"What kind of work?" Kieran felt indignant. Surely the girl wasn’t expected to perform actual labor on the ship.

"Lessons, mostly. I help Neelix in the mess hall, too."

"Are you friends with Seven of Nine?"

"No. I hate her. She wouldn’t let me stay with her in the Cargo Bay when my mom died. She made me stay with Neelix."

"Didn’t you want to stay with Neelix?" Kieran asked patiently.

Naomi made a snorting sound. "No. But Seven is so busy in her precious Astrometrics lab," she said it with a mocking tone, "she didn’t have time for me. And then she married the Captain, and she stopped trying to apologize to me when I let her know I was gonna stay mad at her."

My God, this kid is a mess. She is so bitter and lost. And I can’t help her. Neelix does his best, but she needs to work through this anger over her mother. I have to talk to Janeway about her. I have to convince Janeway to promote the other Kieran Thompson to Ship’s Counselor, and to make Naomi her top priority.

"Are we done yet? I have some holodeck time tonight, and I don’t want to be late," Naomi demanded.

"Sure. Listen, Naomi, thanks for the tour. You want me to walk you back to your quarters?"

Naomi rolled her eyes. "I think I can find it by myself," she replied, voice dripping sarcasm.

"Okay. Well, thanks again." Kieran waved as the little girl sullenly walked away, shoulders drooping, body posture indicative of a depressed personality. I have to talk to Janeway soon, Kieran decided.

_____________

Ensign Kieran Thompson found herself surrounded by what appeared to duplicates of herself. She shook her head as if to clear it. I was in bed, sleeping, I’m sure of it. I must be dreaming. If I reach out my hand, Rachel will be there. She tentatively reached and didn’t awaken.

"Welcome aboard," a young man in a curious gray uniform held out his hand to shake hers.

"Where am I?" the Ensign glanced around the ship, utterly confused.

"This is the USS Parallax. I’m Commander Kennedy. We’re part of a fleet of interdimensional ships that patrol the interdimensional corridors between universes to prevent contamination and cross over. We had to bring you aboard to prevent your universe’s destruction. Another Kieran Thompson crossed into your spatial plane, and we can’t allow that," he explained.

"They’re all me?" she regarded the other occupants with amazement.

He smiled. "In a manner of speaking. They’re versions of you from alternate realities. We’re trying to put you each back where you belong before too much damage is done. Unfortunately, Captain Janeway is making our job rather difficult, at the moment. She has quite the reputation among our ranks. One of our sister ships has encountered her on several occasions. They deal with the preservation of the timeline, which Janeway seems to have stumbled into changing periodically. But her laughable attempts to return you to your proper universe is giving us fits. Hence, all of these versions of you, which we have plucked out a split second before disaster."

Kieran looked down the long bench that held at least a dozen Kierans. As if with a collective mind, the first eleven leaned out and waved at her. It gave her the creeps. Then she saw the Borg version of herself sitting at the very end. "One of me is a drone?"

"Actually, there’s another Kieran drone we have to go get next. She wasn’t supposed to be assimilated at all. It’s very complicated. Have a seat. We’ll be returning you to your Voyager shortly. If you want to talk to the others, go ahead. It probably isn’t really protocol, but we haven’t had an incident of this magnitude since we were commissioned, and I don’t see any reason not to entertain yourself by getting to know them," he moved his hand to encompass the entire group of Kierans.

Disconcerted, but ever curious, Kieran Thompson boldly introduced herself to herself, and started rifling off questions.

__________

Kieran Thompson-Torres had fallen into a troubled sleep. She worried that Rachel McVicker might be getting suspicious about her, or worse, that her continued avoidance of the beautiful Ensign would damage the relationship her counterpart had with Rachel. If Rachel had noticed that Kieran wasn’t coming back to her own quarters, she hadn’t said anything. Kieran thought her special project cover story was pretty good, but she didn’t want Rachel to find out she’d been sleeping in guest quarters. She had finally had the insight that she should query the computer to find out if she and Rachel lived together. She seemed to recall that when she had first shown up on this ship, Rachel had told her they were in Kieran’s quarters. She suspected Rachel did not actually live with her, since that space had been so small. The computer had confirmed that Rachel had separate living quarters. Kieran checked her personal logs and discovered that although they lived apart, Rachel spent most nights with Kieran. So Kieran elected to remain in the guest quarters Janeway had provided.

Her dream state was filled with images that, upon waking, refused to resolve neatly into their appropriate dimensions. Kieran wasn’t clear, most of the time, about what details were real for her existence and what details belonged to another Kieran, and the longer she was separated from her own timeline, the more she began to misconstrue historical facts and memories. She started trying to get things down in a PADD, just to help herself keep it all straight, but even that exercise was beginning to strain her cognitive abilities, because she doubted the veracity of her own memories.

She continued to meet with Janeway’s staff every day, and she spent time with Kathryn, simply because the Captain seemed to understand that Kieran was adrift in a sea of mental confusion and emotional trauma, and Janeway was doing her best to help keep the young Lieutenant grounded in some sort of reality. Janeway liked the Lieutenant immensely, but she was also acutely aware that Kieran’s grip on reality was becoming unstable. The Captain expected as much, truth be told. Spatial psychosis, though not a well known disorder, had been documented on a rare occasion, and was widely accepted as the natural outcome of multiple spatial displacements. The exact number of "jumps" required to induce it was not scientifically understood, but the symptoms weren’t too difficult to detect, and Kieran had several tell-tale signs.

Janeway discussed the situation with the Doctor, but he had no data files to assist in devising a treatment strategy, and the ship’s database had no historical logs detailing the condition or its treatment, short of a brief description of what the disorder was, and the symptoms. Janeway knew that time was critical for Kieran’s sanity, and she cracked the proverbial whip over her staff to get a plan in place for sending Kieran back to where she came from.

_____________

Kathryn Janeway-Thompson had sunk into an unfathomable depression, and had to admit the irony of needing a session with her Ship’s Counselor, who also happened to be her wife, and the reason for her depression. She had holed up in her ready room, unable to bear being in her private quarters, only to be reminded of her missing partner. After unsuccessful attempts by her senior staff to draw her out onto the bridge, out to the messhall, anywhere, Chakotay and Tuvok had given up. Neelix, having less awareness of propriety and a highly developed ability to be oblivious to anything that violated his sense of how things should be, badgered the Captain mercilessly, until she threatened to throw him in the brig if he left the kitchen again.

B'Elanna Paris rang the entrance chime and waited patiently. She heard Captain Thompson swear, then clear her throat. "Come!" she called out.

B'Elanna entered and approached the Captain, who looked worse than B'Elanna could ever remember. "Mind if I sit down?" B'Elanna politely asked. "This kid weighs a ton," she added, settling her very pregnant self into the chair opposite the Captain’s.

Kathryn’s lips were set in a grim line. "Make yourself at home," she said sarcastically.

"Thanks," B'Elanna groaned. "So is it true?"

"Is what true, Lieutenant?" Kathryn barked.

"That the Kieran we sent off three days ago was married to me in another universe."

"Does anything on this ship ever stay a secret?" she demanded. Then apologetically, she replied, "Yes. She is married to the B'Elanna Torres in her universe. And I am married to Seven of Nine there. Seven and I have two daughters—one of them is Naomi Wildman."

B'Elanna did a double take. "How can that be?"

"Sam Wildman is dead," Kathryn explained, rubbing her eyes. "It’s too complex to process it all. You have no idea what it’s like to look into the face of your lifepartner and have them look back vacantly, with no recollection of the life you shared."

B'Elanna nodded sympathetically. "I can imagine, if not really understand. But you know, if Kieran—your Kieran—could see you now, she’d be pretty ticked off at you, hiding in here."

Thompson’s eyes sparked with anger. "You have no right—"

"On the contrary," B'Elanna interrupted, "I have every right. This ship needs you. This crew needs you. And as a corollary, my baby needs you. If you fall apart, we don’t stand a chance of surviving—not one of us. Now look, I know you’re hurting. No one expects you to be your usual happy, humorous self. But you are the Captain, and you have to pull it together and get us through this. We need foodstores. We need dilithium. We have to find those things soon."

Kathryn hid her face in her hands, elbows propped on her desk. "Do you think you’re telling me anything I don’t already know, Lieutenant?" she asked bleakly. "I know we have to get this show on the road. But damn it, my wife is out there somewhere, and I can’t make myself give the order to warp out of here."

B'Elanna reached for Thompson’s hands. "Then let Chakotay do it. Take a leave of absence. Whatever it takes. But I’m telling you Captain, there won’t be warp drive available for long if we don’t find some dilithium. Kieran would never forgive you if you sacrificed Voyager to try to rescue her."

"I know. That’s what makes this so fucking horrible. I know what I should do, I know what I must do, and I can’t do it," Thompson bit her words off with frustration, her eyes falling on the framed photograph of Kieran Janeway-Thompson. "I look at her face, and I just can’t," Thompson said hoarsely. "But you’re right. I should tell Chakotay to take over for me. At least for now," she agreed. She slapped her comm badge. "Thompson to Chakotay."

"Here, Captain," he sounded relieved just to hear her voice.

"I’m turning command over to you, Chakotay. Until further notice. I want you to do what you think is necessary to keep this ship afloat. Understood?"

"Aye Captain," Chakotay replied with no small amount of trepidation in his voice. As soon as the channel closed, Thompson felt the ship jump to warp.

"He could have at least hesitated," Thompson complained.

B'Elanna patted her hand. "He’s not in love with her, Captain."

Thompson nodded resolutely.

____________

Kieran Thompson-Torres’ hands shook over the conn as she navigated the interdimensional corridor. Just get me home, she prayed silently. She realized that after only twelve days, she was starting to forget what Katie looked like. She also realized she was becoming increasingly depressed. She had assumed that the one constant through the multiplicity of worlds would be Naomi Wildman, until that last dimension, and she was not anxious to find out what else might be awaiting her. She had convinced Janeway that if she ever got Ensign Kieran Thompson back, she needed to promote her to Ship’s Counselor, and assign Naomi’s therapy first thing. But whether or not Kieran Thompson would ever make it back to that Voyager was another question.

Rachel McVicker had been a tougher nut to crack than Kieran had expected. The brief time she had spent with the young, raven haired Ensign had given her little insight into the depth of the relationship Rachel had forged with Kieran Thompson, and to the Counselor’s confoundment, Rachel fell apart at the news that her lover was missing.

Brilliant green eyes filled repeatedly with tears, and Janeway could offer no consolation to the grieving woman. Kieran fared no better, because Rachel could hardly look at her without sobbing. Kieran felt bad for leaving the ship with Rachel in such a state, but she felt even worse about leaving Naomi Wildman floundering in her anger and bitterness. She fervently hoped that if she could not return to her former life on Voyager, somehow she would end up back at this Voyager, if for no other reason than to try to help Naomi heal the injustices that had befallen her so early in her life. Her desire to help was so strong she almost couldn’t leave.

It had been Rachel who insisted she go.

"I can’t get my Kieran back if you stay," she had harshly told the Counselor. "The sooner you go, the sooner she’ll be with me."

Janeway had carefully interceded. "Rachel, we don’t know that for sure. We don’t even know where your Kieran is," she tried to soften the blow. "She might not be coming back at all. I don’t want you to get your hopes up. This situation is so far beyond our ability to comprehend it, let alone control it—"

"No," Rachel had refused to listen. "Kieran loves me. She asked me to marry her. She won’t leave me, not now, not like this. Not after everything we’ve been through. I can’t accept it. I won’t."

Kieran could only nod helplessly. "I’ll go then. But Captain, you promise me, you’ll take care of Naomi’s issues, whether your Kieran Thompson comes back or not," Kieran demanded.

"I will. Let’s go Counselor," Janeway had said.

Kieran was torn. It would have been easy to retreat with Janeway and leave Rachel McVicker to wrestle with her emotions alone, but B'Elanna and Seven weren’t ready to implement the plan for another two days, B'Elanna had said, and Kieran felt compelled to try to help this distraught woman.

"I’d like to speak with Rachel alone, if that’s okay, Captain," she had finally requested.

"Rachel? Do you object to my leaving Counselor Thompson-Torres here with you?" Janeway had asked softly.

Rachel looked sadly at the woman who for all the world looked exactly like her lover. "I’ll be okay Captain. Go ahead," she had responded.

Kieran had initiated small talk to get Rachel to settle down, and once she had stopped crying, the two women found they could actually speak quite candidly and naturally with one another. It was Rachel who delved into Kieran’s former life, asking, "She called you Counselor Thompson-Torres, does that mean you’re married to B'Elanna Torres?"

Kieran had nodded. "Only a few months. But we have a baby together."

Rachel had nodded in acknowledgement. "I guess in your timeline, you picked B'Elanna instead of me then. In my timeline, Kieran picked me."

"Your Kieran’s logs didn’t mention ever making a choice between you and B'Elanna, Rachel. They were pretty clear that from the moment she met you, you were all she thought about."

Rachel had given her a quizzical grin. "You didn’t listen to all of them, I’ll bet, then, because my Kieran definitely had the option of being with either one of us, and she was with both of us for a long time, not really making up her mind, damn her."

"You’re kidding," Kieran had protested. "That is so unlike me—"

Rachel had interrupted. "It’s not you. Keep that in mind. It was like this," she revealed.

_____________

"Where are you going?" Rachel asked sleepily, sliding to sit upright in Kieran’s bed. "It’s not even oh-eight hundred."

"No rest for the wicked," Kieran quipped. "I didn’t mean to wake you, but I have a velocity match this morning."

"Oh. Good luck. Who are you playing?" Rachel stretched and groaned, stiff from the previous night’s lovemaking.

"B'Elanna Torres," Kieran replied. "She says she needs some fresh prey," she chuckled.

Rachel’s internal alarms went off in her head. She had seen the way B'Elanna had been looking at Kieran at the party two nights before, and there was no mistaking what the Lieutenant had been thinking. Rachel laughed uncomfortably. "Prey is about right. She’s got her eye on you, KT."

Kieran tied her athletic shoes with one leg up on a chair. "I already told her I’m involved with you. I told her that when she came to ask me to play velocity," she tried to reassure her fledgling partner. "You’re not worried, are you Rach?"

"No," Rachel lied. "Just because a member of Janeway’s inner circle, who happens to be a Klingon and a gorgeous one at that, wants to seduce my lover doesn’t mean I’m worried. I mean, after all, you’ve only just told me all about your past relationships, one of which was with a Klingon you’ve never really gotten over. Heck, no, I’m not worried," she replied sarcastically.

Kieran bristled. "Don’t get bent out of shape on me, Rach. It’s not like we’re married," she retorted more harshly than she intended. "Besides, we’re on shore leave. We’re supposed to recreate and rehabilitate, not lock ourselves in our quarters for days on end," she tried to tease the raven haired beauty.

"Yeah, well just don’t take the ‘recreate’ part to the extreme, okay?"

Kieran joined her on the bed, kissing her gently. "I never do anything in the extreme," she insisted. "Stay as long as you like. I’ll see you later today—if not, then tonight at the blow-out party. Okay?"

Rachel looked skeptical. "Okay. Have fun."

________

Kieran was impressed with B'Elanna Torres’ velocity game, but she still defeated her, despite being out of practice.

"I see the rumor mill was right," B'Elanna complimented the victorious Ensign. "You’re great. I thought you said you were rusty."

Kieran toweled her face dry. "I am. It’s been a couple of years since I played."

"If so, then how come your name came up as being the woman to beat?" B'Elanna put her warm-up jacket on over her workout clothes.

Kieran shrugged. "I dunno. Who told you?"

"Harry Kim," B'Elanna replied, taking a towel out of her gym bag.

Kieran put her gear away while they talked. "Oh, well he did mention to me once that he used to go to the matches when he was at the Academy, and that he’d seen me play."

A look of recognition flickered across B'Elanna’s face. "Kahless, wait a minute," she grinned, "I remember you, too. I didn’t recognize you with your hair so long. I saw you play once. You were something else, too. No wonder you kicked my ass," she clapped the Ensign on the shoulder. "You are rusty," she teased. "If you were at your top form, I’d have never even scored a point. That Harry—he set me up," she laughed. Then as an afterthought, she asked "I’m going to breakfast in the mess hall—want to join me?"

"I’m famished," Kieran acceded.

"Ordinarily I’d offer to buy you a beer, but it’s a little early for that," B'Elanna noted wryly. "I’m puzzled about something though," she added as they headed for the mess hall. "You were a sophomore when I saw you play, a year ahead of me, and you obviously didn’t drop out like I did. But you’re still an Ensign?"

Kieran laughed as she scooted through the door to the café. "Maybe I’m just a classic underachiever."

B'Elanna regarded her doubtfully. "Harry says you were valedictorian of your class."

Kieran selected a bagel and some scrambled eggs. "Mr. Kim seems to know an awful lot about me," she noted.

"He had a crush on you back in school, I think."

Kieran was taken aback. "I thought he and Tom Paris were an item. I guess Harry likes girls too—or does he just like androgynous women in addition to his men?"

B'Elanna shrugged. "Whatever he likes, he sure admires you. He says you served aboard the Enterprise," B'Elanna pulled out a chair for Kieran with one hand and set her tray down with the other.

"Yep, I did," Kieran granted.

"Did you make some sort of career ending mistake?"

"No, why?"

"Because you graduated at the top of your class, went to the flagship of the fleet, and somehow ended up here, working as a lab tech. And you’re still an Ensign."

"I was transferred to Voyager as a very temporary assignment," Kieran explained. "Deanna Troi and Captain Picard thought it would be a wise move for me, considering that the Enterprise was about to ship out on a long mission, and I’d be too far away from the Academy to get back for the next term. I was waiting to hear if I’d been accepted to the Academy’s Counselor Training program. Picard and Deanna figured an Intrepid class ship would stay closer to home, and since I was supposedly a shoo-in for admission to the program, I took what I thought was a temporary post on Voyager. I was up for Lieutenant JG, but there was some sort of snag with my records. I made it to Voyager, but my service record and my promotion didn’t, and the next thing I know, I’m in the Delta Quadrant. Unless by some miracle we get a data linkup with home, I'm probably going to keep right on being an Ensign."

B'Elanna chewed thoughtfully. "Good grief, Kieran, why haven’t you told Chakotay any of this? Janeway would have his head if she knew you’d been overlooked for promotion for several years. I could put in a word, you know—"

"I was going to bring it up when the departmental review comes up again, but ours got postponed when Sam Wildman was killed. Chakotay will get around to me, eventually. Please, don’t say anything to him. If he finds out I told you, it’ll probably sound like I was bitching to you about it, and I’ll be on his permanent shit list."

"But he should have been on top of this, records or no records," B'Elanna was incensed.

"You know how it is, B'Elanna. We live from crisis to crisis, and the poor guy is always buried alive with crap to do, so I’ve fallen through the cracks. I don’t care much, really. I just wanted to go the Counselor Training program, and since that’s a moot point, where I work on Voyager doesn’t matter. Besides, I’m having fun doing my job and beating pretty Klingon women at velocity," she flirted, trying to change the subject.

"Watch it, Thompson," B'Elanna chided her. "You just told me two days ago you’re spoken for, and I was too late, so don’t chat me up," she scolded playfully, but was pleased at the compliment. "Unless," she amended hopefully, "something has changed with you and Rachel?"

Kieran finished her eggs. "I wouldn’t exactly say I’m spoken for. That sounds permanent, and Rachel and I barely know each other. I mean, she’s great, and we are—um—intimate, but it’s not like we’re engaged or anything serious."

B'Elanna’s interest perked right up. "Then will you go out with me? I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes, but if you’re free to see other people, then I’d like you to consider seeing me."

Kieran smiled warmly. "I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, either, B'Elanna, least of all the First Officer’s toes," she said pointedly. "Aren’t you and Chakotay together?"

"We have been, yes. But I’ve expressed the desire to back off from him, and he agrees it’s a good idea. I care for him a great deal, don’t get me wrong, but somehow, seeing the Captain and Seven together just makes me think there’s more to it. Suddenly, what I have with him just doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Does that make sense?"

Kieran nodded her assent. "Nothing wrong with weighing your options, Lieutenant. Nothing at all. Let me talk to Rachel before we make any plans. I have a feeling she’s not going to be too thrilled about me accepting a date with you, but she’ll have to either deal with it, or choose not to. Can I get back to you on it?"

"Sure. Send a message to comm account. So, tell me about P’Arth."

Kieran blanched. "How the hell do you know about her?"

B'Elanna grinned mischievously. "I knew her before you did. I was raised on the Klingon homeworld, and so was she. We both entered the Academy the same year. That was probably the first class ever at Starfleet Academy that had two female Klingons. I dropped out in my second year, shortly before you started dating her. She wrote to me about you."

"And you never mentioned it to me, in the five years we’ve been lost out here?" Kieran was dismayed.

"I honestly never made the connection that you were the same woman. She didn’t call you Kieran in her letters. She called you something else."

"Yeah, probably toruk-DOH," Kieran joked. Toruk-DOH was a particularly blistering Klingon expletive.

B'Elanna laughed aloud, almost spilling her coffee. "No that wasn’t it. I can’t remember what she called you, but it wasn’t Kieran, and it wasn’t anything rude. She did mention your real name once, but I had long since forgotten her reference to it, until just now. It dawned on me if you played on the velocity team and were valedictorian of your class, you had to be P’Arth’s old lover."

"She called me Lukara," Kieran admitted shyly. Lukara was the mythical lover of the Klingon messiah, Kahless.

"Ah, right," B'Elanna recalled. "So, tell me what happened. I’ve heard her side."

Kieran colored in the cheeks. "It’s been such a long time ago, there’s not much to say," she lied.

B'Elanna grinned. "Funny, P’Arth never ran out of things to say about you. In fact, she wrote some pretty juicy letters," her voice oozed innuendo.

"We were very young. And I was uninitiated in the art of Klingon mating. That pretty much says it all," Kieran remembered the numerous injuries she sustained at P’Arth’s overly eager hands. "Except that I loved her beyond my ability to express it, and she trashed me to marry into a prestigious Klingon House. I lost touch with her once I was on the Enterprise. She did a tour of duty on the USS Jemison, and then left Starfleet, or so I heard. I never in a million years thought she would leave me, let alone for a relationship that was still a pipe dream. I hope she got what she wanted. "

B'Elanna nodded sympathetically. "She married quite well. He’s on the High Council, she is a lady of society, and they are very, very wealthy. But she isn’t happy. She hasn’t been since she was with you. She’d probably never admit it, but I know her, and she was happiest when she was in school, and involved with you. At least, when we got lost out here, that’s where things stood with her. Now, hell, who knows. Hard to believe it’s been over five years since I heard from her."

"Hey," Kieran snapped her fingers. "I have a holodeck program of the Klingon Homeworld that has a really good simulation of lake Qo’noS. Would you like to go sailing there?"

"That’d be wonderful. When Voyager first got lost, I didn’t miss the homeworld much, but lately, I’ve been thinking about home a lot. Spending some time there might be just the thing."

"Well, with everyone on shore leave, I’ll bet the holodeck is wide open. Let’s go," Kieran stood to leave.

B'Elanna looked her up and down appreciatively. She knew there was something she should be concerned about, but for the moment, it had slipped her mind entirely. Rachel McVicker, her conscience pricked her. Kieran’s a big girl. She’ll handle Rachel however she sees fit. Rachel isn’t my problem. I wonder if P’Arth’s letters were an exaggeration? B'Elanna shivered at that thought. P’Arth had written reams about the sexual escapades she had had with Kieran Thompson, and B'Elanna had been thoroughly envious. In fact, B'Elanna had never had a moment’s interest in women, not sexually, anyway, until P’Arth put the idea in her head. It had always intrigued her after that, though until she saw Kieran Thompson, she had never made any concerted effort to explore the possibility.

They spent the day sailing a small craft, a dual pontooned boat with jump seats and a narrow walkway between the seats. It didn’t lend itself to conversation, but both women spent a considerable amount of time filling their eyes with each other. B'Elanna looked exquisite in a skimpy burgundy swim suit, and Kieran couldn’t stop herself from staring at all those delicious Klingon curves. B'Elanna was impressed with Kieran’s physique, as well. It struck her that Kieran was more muscular, though not as bulky, as Chakotay. When she brought the boat about, her sinewy arms strained against the force of the potent winds on lake Qo’noS, and B'Elanna thought Kieran was absolutely graceful as she dipped to allow the boom to pass over her formidable height.

Sundrenched and happy after several hours in the high waves and invigorating winds, the two women docked the sailboat. "That was fantastic," B'Elanna enthused. "I used to love to sail as a kid, though my mother thought it was too dangerous with the strength of the winds."

"I’ve never been to the real homeworld," Kieran admitted, but when I met P’Arth, I was determined to impress her, and I learned to sail on that holoprogram. I don’t mind telling you, I wrecked a lot of sailboats trying to master those sheers and swells. Broke a couple of bones, too," she laughed ruefully. "My basketball coach at the Academy damn near kicked me off the team when she found out I’d been sailing on lake Qo’noS," she chuckled.

B'Elanna smiled. "I’ll bet. My coach at the Academy practically checked our beds at night to make sure we weren’t breaking curfew or doing anything that would compromise our performance. I hated it. It’s probably a big reason why I dropped out. All that structure just suffocated me."

Kieran unconsciously rested a hand on B'Elanna’s back, guiding her out of the holodeck. "P’Arth had a hard time with it too. I think the average Klingon would, especially one raised on Qo’noS. Most of the lauded Klingon success stories from Starfleet were of Klingons raised by humans, like Worf, or raised elsewhere in the Empire. It’s a tough adjustment for anyone high spirited, which I’ve heard you are," she waggled her eyebrows playfully. B'Elanna grinned at that. Kieran guided her toward the transporter room, saying "I’m starving. There’s a great Tikki bar down on Tampa—serves a wicked ale, very similar to Klingon ale. Some of the crew convinced the proprietor to make hot dogs and hamburgers. I bet they could replicate gagh. Up for some lunch?"

B'Elanna smiled. "You eat gagh? Fresh?"

Kieran nodded. "On occasion. My recipe isn’t as good as P’Arth’s, but damned if I can remember what she put in it."

B'Elanna grinned at her companion. "Tell you what. We’ll replicate our own, my recipe. Then we can beam down to Tampa and buy some ale, and eat on the beach."

The two women spent the afternoon and well into the evening drinking beer and telling tales of their past. B'Elanna talked about her struggles at the Academy, her time on the Decathlon squad, a boyfriend she had there. Kieran shared her version of what had happened with P’Arth, how it affected her long after they actually broke up, and how it made her reluctant to get seriously involved with anyone again. The sunset had long passed, and Kieran had completely forgotten that she was supposed to meet Rachel for the blow-out party. She sat with B'Elanna on a blanket at the edge of the ocean, still rambling on about everything and nothing. B'Elanna listened with rapt attention as Kieran described her time on the Enterprise, and a young woman named Robin Lefler that she had been involved with during her tour of duty there.

They found a good deal to laugh about, and B'Elanna couldn’t remember when she’d felt so lighthearted. Her job in Engineering drained her, most days, and there was so much pressure to keep Voyager in one piece. With Chakotay, their private time often resulted in even more talk about work and duty and missions, and it dragged her down. With Kieran, there was none of that. B'Elanna appreciated the mental vacation.

"Look at that," B'Elanna murmured, gazing across the thundering surf as the tide rolled in. Off in the distance, the moon had begun to rise, and the atmosphere of the planet made it appear blood red. Nothing could be more romantic for a Klingon who is half human. "I’ve seen a lot of places, but never with a moon like that."

Kieran made a soft sound of appreciation. "Amazing," she agreed.

"So are you," B'Elanna peered up at her. "I’ve had a great day with you." She touched Kieran’s cheek, and their lips came together softly, quietly. Long moments passed and still they kissed, finding their way into each other’s arms.

Kieran loved the way B'Elanna felt in her embrace, the contrast of solid muscle and soft, feminine breasts and buttocks. She kept her touches and kisses tentative, at first, not wanting to be too provocative, and feeling a little shy about getting intimate in a place where anyone could wander up and interrupt them. But B'Elanna pressed against her, teasing her with her tongue as they kissed. Soon enough, they lost their inhibitions as their exploration became more heated and insistent.

B'Elanna grasped Kieran’s braided hair and firmly pulled her head back, exposing her throat, showering it with kisses and nips of her fine, white teeth. Kieran suppressed a groan, but her desire showed in the crimson moonlight playing across her face, and B'Elanna could feel Kieran’s body yielding to her. She pushed the Ensign back on the blanket, stretching against her as they lay down, and Kieran’s hands instinctively reached to cup B'Elanna’s breasts as she moved over the taller woman. B'Elanna sighed into Kieran’s mouth, feeling thumbs pressing against her nipples and large hands encircling the swells of her breasts as they spilled out of her swim suit top.

Kieran stroked the stiffened buds through the slinky fabric, making B'Elanna whimper against the tender flesh of Kieran’s throat. When B'Elanna started to bite her neck with intent, Kieran removed her hands from willing flesh, slid them around B'Elanna’s back, and let her fingers dance over the muscular planes of the frustrated Klingon’s shoulders. B'Elanna returned to kissing the slender Ensign, interpreting her actions as a means of curbing any rougher sexplay. Kieran smiled into their kisses, relieved that this particular Klingon was subtle and insightful, unlike P’Arth, who had frequently left Kieran bruised or bleeding.

Kieran’s hands grasped B'Elanna’s buttocks as they kissed, squeezing and massaging them, which had the added effect of pressing B'Elanna’s hips against Kieran. Kieran slid her leg between B'Elanna’s, pressing her thigh against B'Elanna’s sex, and was rewarded by the dampness that had soaked through the thin cloth of her swim suit bottom. She slid her hands down the back of the suit, covering B'Elanna’s ass with her palms, teasing the crease between her cheeks with one finger that dipped into the wetness that had gathered there. B'Elanna groaned into their kiss, aching for more.

"You like that?" Kieran asked in a breathy whisper. B'Elanna nodded weakly, continuing to press against Kieran’s taut thigh muscle. "Pull the edge of the blanket over us," she instructed. B'Elanna obediently did so, concealing their writhing bodies from anyone’s immediate view if they were discovered. Kieran pushed B'Elanna’s bottoms down, and B'Elanna slipped them off in one swift motion. "Now come here," Kieran growled in a tone that made B'Elanna’s need jolt within her. B'Elanna eased back down against Kieran’s thigh, her desire bathing them both as her slick folds slipped over muscle and bone. Kieran unfastened the brassiere of B'Elanna’s swimsuit, and her arms were suddenly filled with a gloriously naked Klingon, every inch of the woman alive and electric and inflamed.

"Oh, God, B'Elanna," she gasped, drawing her up and over hungry lips that claimed each nipple in turn. "You’re so wet," she murmured, reaching between the thrusting woman’s legs and finding heated folds. She entered her with two fingers, sliding them deep into B'Elanna’s waiting walls, then withdrawing them to stroke the length of her labia and over her distended clit. She repeated this motion in slow, tantalizing rhythms, watching B'Elanna suspended over her on outstretched arms, mouth open, eyes closed in utter concentration on the sensation.

"Kieran," she grunted as her body started to clench and jerk, "oh, yes," she gasped. She bent to kiss her partner, letting Kieran’s lips muffle the sound of her pleasure as she came. When the spasms stopped, Kieran heaved her over onto her back and entered her again, this time also penetrating her ass, and B'Elanna shrieked against Kieran’s shoulder at the sensation. "Yes," she hissed, "take me like that, oh, take me hard," she begged, knowing for once she was with a lover who understood what Klingons need and want. Kieran gave her exactly what she asked for, with a harshness that neither interpreted as anything but enthusiastic and energetic. Her hand thrust in time with the arching of B'Elanna’s back as she lifted her perfect hips upward to meet Kieran’s entry, and the more forcefully Kieran penetrated her, the more B'Elanna seemed to need. She began to grunt in time with the repeated motion, but could not achieve release.

"Don’t move," Kieran whispered in her ear, biting the fleshy earlobe and raking her teeth over B'Elanna’s throat, eliciting a needful moan from deep in her chest. Kieran ceased all motion and dropped her face to B'Elanna’s folds, still filling her walls and her ass with her fingers, but teasing her. She gathered soft, warm lips into her mouth, sucking gently, fondling B'Elanna’s swollen clit with the tip of her tongue. B'Elanna tried to rock against her questing fingers, and Kieran immediately stopped. "I told you not to move," she barked, knowing Klingon women enjoy a certain amount of mastery. B'Elanna obediently stilled, and Kieran returned to devouring her clit. When she could sense B'Elanna’s dire need for release, she once again thrust deeply into her, matching the tempo of her fingers to the tempo of her tongue.

B'Elanna’s second orgasm was part sexual pleasure and part physical catharsis, and Kieran rode out the maelstrom with her, buffering her ecstatic cries with a discreetly placed thigh, where B'Elanna buried her face as she came in hard, sharp, piercing jolts.

B'Elanna collapsed back against the blanket with a satisfied gasp, pulling Kieran down on top of her. "Kahless in a Klingon parade, woman," she chuckled. "Oh my God, Kieran," she panted, too spent to even hug her tightly.

Kieran grinned smugly. "Are you okay?"

"Better than okay," B'Elanna laughed, nestled in Kieran’s arms again. "How come I’m naked and you’re still dressed?" she complained lightly.

"You were a little preoccupied," Kieran teased her, kissing her softly. "Besides, I didn’t think both of us needed to get sand up our butts," she joked.

Just then, a figure came out of the shadows of a bushy tree. "Kieran? Is that you? I thought I recognized your voice," Rachel said, not realizing the situation she had happened upon. The beach was so dark she could only make out the silhouette of one shape, but she distinctly heard Kieran’s voice. "You were supposed to meet me at the party," she complained, walking up to her lover. "I—oh, shit—"

As Kieran rolled to sit up, the blanket fell away, revealing a very naked B'Elanna Torres. B'Elanna snatched at the blanket, but couldn’t cover herself again.

"Well, I can see you broke our date for a really good reason," Rachel spat. "Excuse me." Rachel practically ran away from the post-coital interlude.

"Should you go after her?" B'Elanna asked, concerned.

"I’m not sure. Maybe. Do you mind?" Kieran held B'Elanna’s face in her hand, kissing her once more.

"No. She looked pretty pissed, though, so be careful. The party is in full swing by now, and the Captain and Seven are probably back from their honeymoon. Janeway hates it when fraternization among the crew creates problems. Not exactly the way you want her to take notice of you, if you get my drift."

"I’ll see you, then," Kieran hastily arranged her own distressed clothing. "Soon."

"Good," B'Elanna gazed up at the woman towering over her, then sighed as Kieran sprinted away. Even in a panic, she’s gorgeous, B'Elanna thought.

Kieran found Rachel at the Tikki Bar, pounding down shots of some thick, orange substance. "What is that?" she asked as she sat down next to her jilted lover.

"Hell if I know," Rachel growled. She cast a sidelong glance at the woman beside her. "You should go back to the ship."

"Why? I came to apologize to you," she explained.

"Because you smell like sex," Rachel lowered her voice, though not much. A Lieutenant at the bar overheard her and gaped at the two women before snatching his beverages and walking quickly away. "And you look like you just had it."

"Oh," Kieran mouthed the word softly. "I’ll go get cleaned up and beam back down. That is, if you still want me to."

"Actually, I don’t," Rachel informed her. "I thought when I met you I had met someone special, someone different," she swallowed another shot. "Obviously, I was wrong. I’m not interested in playing around or in screwing with people’s heads, Kieran. If that’s what you’re all about, forget it."

Kieran winced. "I told you before, I’m not ready to settle down into anything serious. I warned you, Rachel, that’s not where I’m coming from right now."

"Then why did you sleep with me?" Rachel’s emerald green eyes were hard as duranium.

"Because we both wanted to," Kieran said matter-of-factly. "Because we’re both adults and we can enjoy each other without having to rush into commitments and plans and such. You agreed that you weren’t ready for anything too heavy, or have you forgotten that conversation in your anger?"

Rachel took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "You’re right, I did say that. And I meant it. But seeing you with her, that makes me think I was wrong."

Kieran shook her head. "Don’t confuse jealousy for something else, Rach. Nothing between us has changed. Nothing. You’re just upset because I stood you up, which you should be mad about, and because you saw something that disturbs you. If I had stood you up because I was busy at work, you’d have been fine with that. So don’t get all worked up just because it was for some other reason. I’m an ass. Why I’m an ass is irrelevant."

Rachel considered. She desperately wanted to make this relationship work, and she couldn’t deny that she had agreed with Kieran they shouldn’t get too serious too fast. Now she regretted saying it, but she couldn’t change the rules midstream to suit her whims. That wouldn’t be fair. She was decidedly out of sorts and not in the mood to go to a party. "Okay. Look. You go get cleaned up and find B'Elanna. I’m going to have some dinner and go back to the ship, so you’re off the hook for our date. I’m not mad at you, but I don’t really want to be around you right now."

"Fair enough," Kieran agreed, kissing her cheek. "I’ll see you tomorrow, then?"

Rachel shrugged. "I’ll be in Astrometrics. I imagine it will be an easy day, since Seven’s head will still be in the clouds. Do you want to have dinner?"

Kieran nodded. "Sure. I’ll drop by your quarters after my shift. Have a good night."

Kieran made her way back to the beach, where B'Elanna was still watching the moon and the waves. "Hey," she said softly. "Is this seat taken?" she plopped down on the blanket beside the dreamy eyed Klingon. "You look happy."

B'Elanna put an arm around the wiry Ensign. "Everything okay with Rachel?"

"We’ll be okay," Kieran assented. "She’s not real thrilled with me right now, but she also knows I wasn’t looking for anything real serious. She knew that before I ever slept with her. She’ll get over it. We’re going to have dinner together tomorrow."

B'Elanna flinched. "You’re going to keep seeing her?"

Kieran touched the dark woman’s face. "I want to, yes. Is that a problem for you?"

B'Elanna’s Klingon pride prevented her from being completely straightforward. She wanted this woman, wanted her entirely and exclusively, but wouldn’t admit it to herself or to Kieran. "No, of course not," she lied.

"I’m glad, B'Elanna. I really enjoy your company," she took her hand. "Want to get something to eat? The blow-out party looked like it was hopping."

"Sure," B'Elanna agreed without enthusiasm. Tough as she was, there was a definite pain in her chest at the thought of sharing Kieran Thompson with Rachel McVicker.

_____________

Kieran-Thompson Torres punched commands into the conn, speeding along the corridor, but thinking about the story Rachel McVicker had told her. I didn’t have the heart to tell her, but I think her Kieran is a promiscuous asshole. I would never treat anyone the way she treated Rachel and B'Elanna. P’Arth and Robin both hurt me so badly, I’d never have had the arrogance to be so cavalier. I wonder what could have made that Kieran so cold hearted and selfish? Maybe P’Arth and Robin hurt her too, but instead of being better for it, she let it make her defensive and guarded. And she ended up being as calculating and self-interested as they both were to her. Sad. Good thing B'Elanna in that reality finally made Kieran come clean and be honest with herself…

For months, Ensign Kieran Thompson vacillated between B'Elanna Torres and Rachel McVicker. She professed to care for each of them, but couldn’t truly commit herself to either one. She found admirable qualities in them both, and she also found character flaws that made her leery of settling into anything permanent.

B'Elanna had a temper that was unrivalled, even by any full-blooded Klingon Kieran had met. In fact, Kieran was convinced that B'Elanna in a complete fury could even have kicked Worf’s ass. The sheer magnitude of B'Elanna’s sublimated anger frightened Kieran Thompson. Whenever B'Elanna had a fit, Kieran would flash back on the last few months she’d been with P’Arth, and how P’Arth had slapped her around on occasion. For a full-blooded Klingon, the physicality of their interaction was probably nothing more than standard, but to Kieran it felt like abuse. And try though she might, when B'Elanna was angry, Kieran kept waiting for B'Elanna to hit her, as if she had been conditioned to expect it.

Rachel’s personality flaws were much less serious, though no less annoying. Rachel had come from a well-to-do family, and one’s station and status in life seemed to matter a great deal to her. She stood to inherit a tidy fortune, if Voyager ever made it home, and she seemed entirely too hung up on issues of class. Earth had moved beyond the constructs of simple capitalism, but for Rachel, rich and poor, elevated and subordinate were concepts that had yet to evolve into something higher. It made Kieran think of P’Arth’s dogged determination to marry into a prominent Klingon family, and Kieran had always blamed that ambition for the failure of her relationship with P’Arth. Her distaste for that aspect of Rachel’s personality made her reluctant to agree to anything more serious.

Ultimately, B'Elanna’s temper made the decision for Kieran.

Harry Kim’s 30^th birthday was to be a gala event, complete with a mock funeral for the aging Lieutenant, and a formal dance and dinner after the teasing and presents. B'Elanna and Rachel had both invited Kieran to escort them, and Kieran, not wanting to choose, asked Lara Zielinsky to go, instead. Lieutenant Lara Zielinsky was a dark haired, athletic communications officer, one Kieran had noticed in the gymnasium on several occasions, and who was known for her addiction to grueling holodeck programs that involved rock climbing, running steep and treacherous trails, and anything dangerous that presented a challenge to her physical prowess. Kieran had run into her the day before the party, while they were both lifting weights in the gym. Lara didn’t already have an invitation to Harry’s birthday, so she agreed to go along, since the party was the talk of everyone on the ship. Rumor had it that Tom Paris was going to present Harry with an engagement ring during the height of the festivities, and Lara didn’t want to miss that.

When Kieran entered the grand ballroom that had been programmed into the holodeck, looking dapper in a black tuxedo with long tails, with Lara smiling and holding onto her arm, something in B'Elanna Torres snapped. It had been trying enough to vie for Kieran’s time against Rachel McVicker, but a third distraction was the final straw. Never one to arrive early, the dancing was already underway when they made their entrance, and Kieran and Lara sailed around the room laughing and talking. B'Elanna marched right over to the oblivious couple and roughly jerked Kieran’s shoulder.

"Mind if I cut in?" B'Elanna snarled, not waiting for Kieran to reply. She snatched Lara’s hand and spun them out of the range of Kieran’s ears.

"I don’t who the fuck you think you are, Zielinsky, but Kieran is not available," she hissed through pointed teeth.

Lara was startled, but didn’t let it faze her. She withdrew her hands and crossed her arms defiantly. "I think her availability, or lack thereof, is for her to decide, Lieutenant," she replied hotly. "I just came to the party to have a good time, not to get in the middle of some lover’s quarrel."

"Just as long as we understand each other," B'Elanna regarded her coolly.

"What I understand," Lara bit the words off, "is that you seem to have mistaken sexual conquest for ownership," she accused. "Kieran belongs to herself. Not me, not you, not Rachel. If you can’t adapt to that, then you shouldn’t see her anymore."

Kieran had been shoving her way through the crowd, trying to find the two women, who had made it a fair distance across the throng of people in the short time they had been dancing. She came upon them just as B'Elanna was drawing her arm back to strike Lara, and grabbed B'Elanna before she could swing.

"What the fuck is the matter with you, ‘Lanna?" Kieran shouted over the music. "You want to take a shot at somebody, take a shot at me! For Christ’s sake, have you lost your mind?"

"Maybe I should take a shot at you!" B'Elanna shoved her and sent her sprawling. "You seem to think you can just come and go as you please, with whomever you please, without any regard for how it makes me feel," she accused angrily.

Kieran regained her balance and had the canniness to scoot Lara behind her, out of harm’s way. "How you feel is not my issue. I’ve been honest with you about how I feel, and you’ve made your choices. Now I’m making my choice. You and I are through, B'Elanna."

B'Elanna would have come at her again, if Chakotay, who had overheard the fracas, hadn’t walked up just then. "Stand down, Lieutenant," he ordered loudly. "Don’t push it," he warned her, watching the frustration play on her face. "Janeway is having a bad day today. She’ll have your ass in a sling, B'Elanna," he informed her.

Just then, Kathryn Janeway, escorted by Seven of Nine, stepped up beside her first officer. "Everything all right here?" she asked pointedly.

"Fine, Captain," B'Elanna reigned in her emotions. "I was just about to say goodnight to Ensign Thompson and Lieutenant Zielinsky. Ladies," she covered her ass and spun on her heal.

Kathryn smiled at Lara. "You’re looking lovely, Lieutenant. Carry on," she said to Kieran as she and Seven made their way to the refreshment table.

"Are you okay, Kieran?" Chakotay rested a hand on her forearm.

"Perfectly fine, Commander, thanks," Kieran replied graciously.

"You handled her pretty well," he commented, "though I’m not sure if stepping between Lara and B'Elanna’s fist was an act of bravery or temerity," he chuckled.

"I’ll go with bravery. It sounds better," Kieran replied, relieved to have her face intact.

"She’s in love with you, you know," Chakotay advised her.

"I know. Unfortunately, she picked the wrong way to express it," Kieran retorted. "I don’t do women who throw tantrums. Very unbecoming."

"Oh, I don’t know," Chakotay glanced across the room at B'Elanna, who was glowering in their direction. "I like a feisty woman, now and again."

Kieran smiled. "Then by all means, Commander, go ask her to dance," she urged.

"You don’t mind?" he asked politely.

"I’ve got no claims on her. Especially not now," she insisted. "Lara, would you like to dance?"

Lara eyed her warily. "I think I’ll pass. I don’t care much for the company you keep, Ensign, and I don’t want jealous women hunting me down over you. I believe I’ll say goodnight. I’m sorry," she added apologetically, "but I don’t do fistfights on first dates."

Kieran couldn’t really blame her, and watched as she left the holodeck. Slender arms twined around her waist from behind, and the familiar scent of Rachel McVicker engulfed her senses. "Hello," she said softly, turning in Rachel’s arms.

"Nice show," she smarted. "What do you do for an encore?"

Kieran chuckled. "Embrace celibacy? It might be less troublesome."

Rachel peered up at her, pretending to pout. "That’s no fun," she whined. "You should just find a happy medium, somewhere between celibacy and total debauchery. I know someone who can show you where the middleground lies," she flirted.

"Or someone who can just lie with me on the middleground?" Kieran cracked.

"You’re impossible. But I’d lie with you on any ground, any day," Rachel agreed, no longer making light of it. "Want to dance?"

Kieran nodded. "Sure. If you aren’t too embarrassed to be seen with me, that is," she grinned.

_____________

Sitting aboard the Delta Flyer, Kieran Thompson-Torres thought about Janeway. Strange that her counterpart had never really talked to the Captain, when she and Janeway had hit it off right away in this spatial incursion. Just before she climbed aboard the Delta Flyer, Janeway had given her a hug.

"You know," the auburn haired Captain said softly, "I’m going to have to get to know her, if she comes back. If she’s anything like you, I think we’ll be famous friends."

Kieran had gotten choked up over that. Now, sitting in the Flyer, she felt like crying still. She was homesick and heartsick, and she was weary beyond description. As the Delta Flyer emerged from the interdimensional corridor, the rift collapsed abruptly, and Kieran was thrown out of her seat. She hit her head sharply on the deck, and came up smarting and dazed. But then she spotted Voyager in the distance, and she was certain she had finally made it home. She hailed them.

"Delta Flyer to Voyager, come in," Kieran requested.

"This is Captain Kathryn Janeway. Identify yourself."

"This is Lieutenant Kieran Thompson-Torres, of the starship Voyager, requesting permission to come aboard."

There was a long pause, and then Janeway came back on the channel. "Lieutenant, I want visual confirmation."

"Understood. Engaging visual link, Captain," Kieran punched in the command.

"My god," Janeway gasped. "Permission granted."

As the visual winked out, Janeway turned to Tuvok. "Get a security detail down there, fully armed. I don’t know who or what that was, but it isn’t Kieran Thompson," Janeway stated flatly.

"Permission to accompany you, Captain," B'Elanna staunchly awaited the response.

Janeway looked her Chief Engineer up and down, assessing the situation. "Are you sure, Lieutenant ?"

"Yes Ma’am," B'Elanna replied. "Please."

"You’re with me then," Janeway relented. "Tuvok, lead the way."

When Kieran Thompson-Torres stepped out of the Delta Flyer, she was greeted by a security team that had compression rifles trained on her head. She was completely flabbergasted by that reception. She grimaced as the detail stepped back cautiously, prepared to drop her on the spot.

"Is this how you greet all your visitors?" Kieran was shocked. She kept her hands raised.

"Take her phaser," Tuvok ordered the nearest Ensign. The young man stepped up to Kieran and disarmed her.

"You’ll forgive us for not rolling out the red carpet," Janeway snarled. "But Kieran Thompson-Torres is dead."

Kieran’s eyes darted from Kathryn to B'Elanna. "Dead? I went through a spatial rift, but I’m very much alive," she argued, feeling her grip on reality slipping. "Lanna," she pleaded softly, "it’s me."

B'Elanna felt her heart lurch in her chest. "I saw the body. Kieran is dead," she corroborated Janeway’s story. "My wife was buried in space three weeks ago."

Kieran was sure she had to be home. It felt like home. "Are you sure? BangwIj, do I look dead to you?"

B'Elanna grabbed Janeway’s arm and pulled her aside. "Captain, what if this really is Kieran? My Kieran was killed in a shuttle craft accident when she entered a spatial rift, right?" Janeway nodded. "Well what if that was some other Kieran that we found and buried? Did the Doctor even consider that it might be any other Kieran Thompson?"

Janeway tried to follow the Lieutenant’s train of thought. "You’re suggesting that the person we buried might not have been your Kieran?"

B'Elanna nodded. "It could happen. If the Doctor didn’t specifically check the body against prior records—and frankly, why would he have? He could have misidentified the body. And I could have too. It never once occurred to me that the person in that shuttle was anyone but my wife."

Janeway glanced over her shoulder at the bewildered Counselor, wanting very much to believe that this, through some miracle, could be the Kieran they knew and loved. She turned back to the latest arrival on her ship, eyeing her critically. "Who found Naomi when she ran away from home?" Kathryn asked.

"Noah Lessing and I found her," Kieran replied, "though Tom Paris actually grabbed her after we spotted her." That’s right, isn’t it? Naomi ran away from home, and I helped look for her.

"How did you and I meet?" B'Elanna quizzed her.

"On Tampa. I was playing football and I ran over you. That was while Seven and Kathryn were on their honeymoon."

"Who was your first appointment with, after you were made ship’s Counselor?" Janeway demanded, beginning to hope against hope.

"Your wife, Seven of Nine," Kieran was becoming upset. She was certain she was home, and she couldn’t understand why no one recognized it but her. Her eyes teared up. "B'Elanna," she begged the dark skinned Klingon, "please. I need to touch you. I want to see Katie. I’ve been so scared and alone."

B'Elanna leaned over and whispered something to Kathryn. Kathryn nodded. "Open your tunic," B'Elanna instructed. Kieran obeyed and B'Elanna saw two scars, the exact scars she had placed on her lover. "Oh my God," she pressed her hand over her mouth, "it really is you," she grabbed the lanky Counselor and burst into tears. Kieran clung to her then, raining kisses over her cheeks and brow ridges.

"Lanna," she whispered tenderly, "I love you so," she choked out the words amid a torrent of tears.

"I thought you were gone," B'Elanna wailed softly, "oh, bangwIj, I was sure I’d never see you again."

Kathryn waited patiently to take the woman who had been her best friend into her arms. She wept shamelessly, feeling she’d witnessed a miracle, willingly snatching the tendrils of hope that the appearance of this Kieran had brought forth. When B'Elanna released her prodigal wife, Kathryn launched herself into Kieran’s hug, crying full out.

"I missed you," she bawled. "I told you once you’d almost gotten yourself killed twice, and—"

"And if I went for a third try you’d put a formal reprimand in my record," Kieran finished for her, laughing. "Oh, Kat, I’m so sorry. I guess you’ll have to demote me."

"Naomi will have my head if I do any such thing. Dear God, Kieran, she is barely functioning, she is so emotionally wrecked from losing you," Kathryn warned the Counselor. "I know you want to see Katie, but when you get a chance could you—"

Kieran squeezed the Captain harder. "Say no more. As soon as I’ve seen my baby and kissed my wife, I’ll go see Naomi," she laughed through her tears. "Oh, God, it’s good to be home."

____________

Kieran put Katie down for a nap, tousling her whisper fine black hair, almost unable to tear herself away from the slumbering infant. "I love you, Kathryn Ada," she murmured, still holding the tiny little hand of her daughter. B'Elanna stole into the room, sliding her hands around Kieran’s waist. "She’s beautiful, Lanna," Kieran said with total awe in her voice. "Just like you."

She turned in the Klingon’s powerful arms and dropped her face, kissing B'Elanna with her entire being, awash in the memory of all the times they had made love. B'Elanna opened her mouth sweetly beneath Kieran’s, pressing her body against the tall Counselor’s angular frame, their embrace strengthening and finally igniting in passion.

They made love with a fury and a tenderness unequalled, drawing out every pleasureful moment, bringing each other to repeated peaks, gasping and moaning and crying and laughing until they collapsed from exhaustion. Afterwards, B'Elanna slept in Kieran’s arms, reclaiming the much needed rest she had been deprived of in the weeks since Kieran had died. The Chief Engineer had been diagnosed with insomnia, but nothing the Doctor gave her seemed to help, short of using a somnetic inducer, a mechanical device that simulated sleep brainwaves.

Now B'Elanna slept deeply, finally at peace. Kieran dropped off eventually, unaware that she had blundered into another alternate universe.

In the tide of relief and hope and overwhelming joy, the crew of Voyager never seriously considered verifying that this woman was indeed their Kieran. They simply rushed to the conclusion that they had been mistaken in thinking their Kieran had died, and they welcomed this Kieran into their lives openly and without question. Kieran, having been shuffled through several alternate realities, was suffering the beginnings of spatial psychosis, and had an undiagnosed concussion that combined with her illness to delude her into believing she was home.

_____________

"I am simply saying, Captain, that I think you should have the Doctor verify that the woman on the Delta Flyer is indeed the Kieran Thompson that left the Alpha Quadrant with us," Tuvok reasoned.

Janeway ignored the fact that the suggestion sent a bolt of cold fear through her soul. "I don’t think that’s necessary, Tuvok. I mean, what are the odds that an alternate version of Kieran would share the exact same memories?"

Tuvok tilted his head in mute assent. "Still, it would be prudent to have the Doctor run a few scans."

Kathryn did not like the idea one bit. "I don’t want to put B'Elanna or Kieran through that, old friend. I think you’re being paranoid."

Tuvok stood to leave the ready room. "Curious," he observed, "that you ascribe a mental illness to me simply because I disagree with you. However, you are the Captain, and you know best."

Kathryn saluted him with her tea cup. "That’s what it says in the job description," she agreed.

"Janeway to Naomi Wildman," she activated her comm badge.

"Wildman here," the lifeless voice came back.

"I need to see you right away, Naomi. Report to my ready room."

Kathryn sipped her tea contemplatively, wondering exactly how to explain to her daughter that Counselor Kieran Thompson-Torres was alive and well. And surely the universe couldn’t be so cruel as to bring back the wrong Kieran, now could it?

__________

Kieran awoke to the sensation of B'Elanna curled up beside her, and rolled over to take the sturdy Klingon in her arms. "Hey," she whispered. "Have I told you since I got back that I love you?"

B'Elanna chuckled lightly. "About a hundred times when we were making love, bangwIj. But you can tell me again," she requested.

"I love you, Lanna," Kieran immediately complied. "I’m so sorry I scared you."

"Scared isn’t the word, honey," she hugged Kieran tightly. "I was devastated. I never contemplated raising a child as a single parent, and then there I was, doing it. I was terrified."

Kieran held her closer, kissing her hair. B'Elanna lay her hand on Kieran’s muscular chest, and for a second, Kieran glanced at her hand. That’s not the ring I gave her, her brain tried to protest. No, it has to be. I’m just confused. Damned spatial displacement, anyway. Of course that’s the ring I gave her. I just can’t remember it that well. Too many other realities, all jumbled in my head. Sure. That’s the ring we picked out together. Kieran glanced at the nightstand, and sure enough, their wedding picture was sitting exactly where it should be. Did we wear traditional Klingon greaves? I could swear we decided against the leather accoutrements, her mind pricked again. I must be tired. I hit my head pretty hard when the Flyer came through the rift, I must have scrambled my brains. We wore the greaves, I remember it now. God, B'Elanna was so gorgeous. I can’t believe she married me. I don’t deserve to be so happy. Yeah, we wore the greaves.

Kieran had herself convinced by the time she fell back asleep.

___________

Naomi Wildman could hardly contain her elation. She ran from the ready room all the way to Kieran’s quarters, shiny black boots pounding on the deck plating as she sped toward the doorway. She rang the chime impatiently, wringing her hands as she waited for someone to answer. Kieran untangled herself from B'Elanna and grabbed her old robe, heading for the door. I could’ve sworn B'Elanna made me recycle this shabby old thing, she thought, yanking the belt tight around her waist.

She opened the door and a blur of strawberry blonde hair and fair skin bolted through it, almost knocking her over. "Hey Na," she giggled, lifting her small friend up for a firm hug. "Didja miss me?"

Naomi hugged her with all her strength. She couldn’t answer, she was so moved at the sight of her idol. Naomi looked directly into Kieran’s eyes, searching them. She touched the Counselor’s face, as if to affirm the corporeal substance of the woman.

"It’s okay, honey," Kieran soothed her. "It’s me."

Naomi hugged her again. "I was so mad at you," she confided.

"I bet you were," Kieran sympathized. "Can you forgive me now?"

"I don’t know. I don’t think anything ever hurt me so much before," she stated honestly. "But maybe if you try real hard, you can make it up to me." Naomi regarded her warily, as if she were afraid to believe in this particular miracle of fate.

Kieran threw back her head and laughed. "I’ll do that, Na," she promised.

"I’m sorry to barge in on you," she apologized. "I better let you get back to your celebration," she winked at the Counselor, smiling knowingly at the fact that she was wearing a bathrobe in the middle of the afternoon.

Kieran kissed her and put down. "Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow, though, if that’s okay with you."

Naomi nodded. "You’d better."

Walking down the corridor, Naomi sighed. Maybe the grownups were fooled, but she wasn’t. The woman in the tattered terry cloth robe looked like Kieran, even acted like her. But she wasn’t Kieran. She didn’t smell right. And her eyes didn’t look the same. Naomi decided to find Seven of Nine and report her suspicions.

___________

Seven of Nine decided to reserve judgement until she had actually seen the latest arrival to Voyager’s crew. She wanted to believe, as did Kathryn, that the woman who had died in the Delta Flyer was, somehow, a duplicate of the Kieran that belonged with them. But Seven had observed a good deal about human behavior, including the emotion of grief. And she had concluded that grief and tremendous need are potent intoxicants that can cause the most rational of minds to accept the incredible.

She wanted to believe Kathryn and B'Elanna. She tried to convince herself that Naomi was simply having doubts as a defense mechanism, because Kieran’s death had injured her so deeply that having her be alive was too great an emotional risk. But Naomi would be the first person to rejoice if Kieran had actually come back, and the fact that Naomi was skeptical gave Seven pause. She promised Naomi she would assess the situation as soon as possible, and set about orchestrating an opportunity to do just that.

Kieran had been back two days, and Seven invited the newlywed couple to dinner the third day of Kieran's return. Naomi took baby Gretchen and baby Katie to Neelix’ quarters to allow the adults to spend the evening together, but more than that, she did not want to be around the woman calling herself Kieran Thompson. She felt the woman was an imposter, and it offended her sense of propriety that anyone would masquerade as her departed friend.

Kieran did not consciously realize she was displaced again, and though several times a nagging clue cropped up, she explained them away in her mind. Her sanity was tenuous at best, and she clung to the belief that she was home because she desperately needed to be home. The minor differences between the reality she had known and the one she was in now could be dismissed, and her brain compensated as a matter of mental and emotional survival.

At dinner, when she saw Seven of Nine for the first time since coming aboard her current Voyager, there was something distinctly different about her. Kieran’s mind, foggy though it was, kept telling her that something about Seven of Nine was foreign. She diverted her attention from the inkling that tried to surface, and concentrated on the conversation.

Seven listened intently, asked a few pointed questions, and rapidly reached the same conclusion Naomi had reached. Seven’s Borg enhanced senses detected differences in the Kieran sitting at her dinner table that the casual observer might miss. This Kieran had a different wedding ring. Her hair was three inches longer. The index finger on her left hand was straight, instead of bent slightly from a poorly healed fracture. Her facial expressions were slightly variant. And as Naomi had pointed out, she didn’t smell right, and her eyes were different. More than that, Seven could hear a strange mechanical sound coming from Kieran’s chest. It was faint, even to the Borg’s superhuman hearing, but it was definitely not the way Kieran’s body had sounded to Seven. Her breathing sounded very different, as well—heavier, fuller.

If Seven ignored all the telltale signs, she could understand how B'Elanna could think this woman was her spouse. And it saddened the Borg’s compassionate heart to think that Kathryn and B'Elanna would have to grieve for Kieran yet again, but she could reach no other conclusion. Clearly, this was not Kieran Thompson-Torres, and this Kieran would have to leave, eventually.

Lying in bed that night after dinner, Kieran was dozing off when the realization hit her. Seven of Nine was supposed to have a cybernetic implant over her left eye, and a starburst implant on her right cheek. She pictured Seven at dinner, and realized the implants were backwards, the starburst on her left cheek, and the optical implant over her right eye. And that was when Kieran started to have doubts about her own identity.

___________

"I know you do not wish to hear this, Kathryn, but you must listen to me," Seven insisted. "I do not mean to upset you, and I don’t want to disappoint you, but I am positive that Kieran is not who you think she is," Seven argued gently. "It was Naomi who realized it first, and I believe she is correct."

Kathryn rolled over in bed, turning her back on Seven. "That’s nonsense, Seven, and I won’t listen to it. B'Elanna has been with her since the second she came aboard. She’s slept with her, made love with her, reminisced with her—don’t you think she would know?"

Seven curled herself around her wife. "I think that B'Elanna sees what she needs to see, and not what is truly real." Seven nuzzled Kathryn’s neck. "I love you, Kathryn. I would give anything for that woman to be Kieran, if only to keep you from further heartache. But she is not Kieran."

Kathryn sighed with disgust. "Okay. Suppose I accept what you’re saying. Kieran is an imposter, and our Kieran is really, truly dead and gone. What have I accomplished? Does it make a difference if it’s not the exact same Kieran Thompson? B'Elanna is happy again. I have my best friend back. Who will ever be the wiser?"

Seven turned Kathryn over to peer into her eyes. "The B'Elanna who is actually married to this Kieran might have a thing or two to say about our keeping her here." Seven kissed Kathryn’s forehead. "I am as sorry as I can be, darling, but we have to send Kieran back through the rift. She doesn’t belong here."

"I can’t accept that, Seven," her voice was pleading. "I can’t. I don’t want to talk about it, not ever again."

"Kathryn, you are being irrational."

"Hell yes, I’m being irrational. I love that woman, Seven. She is like a sister to me. And when she died, part of me died right along with her. And now she’s here, and for the first time in three weeks, I don’t feel like there’s a huge weight crushing me. I’m able to sleep again. I have an appetite again. And I don’t feel like I’ve been robbed of one of the most precious gifts I was ever given. Don’t ask me to sacrifice that for some theoretical B'Elanna Torres I’ve never met. And damn it, don’t ask B'Elanna to bury Kieran twice."

____________

Naomi Wildman avoided Kieran entirely. When they were together through no fault of Naomi’s, Naomi was polite, but kept her emotional distance. It disturbed Kathryn to no end that Naomi refused to open her heart to Kieran, but she couldn't very well order the Ktarian to love Kieran again. Subconsciously, Kathryn wanted Naomi to embrace the illusion, if for no other reason than to preserve B'Elanna’s happiness, not to mention her own.

Kieran had begun to resume her duties as Ship’s Counselor, and in going back over her client records, she was finding it harder to ignore the differences between her world and the one she currently inhabited. Kieran found extensive records of Kathryn Janeway’s sessions, sessions the Counselor could not even vaguely remember. In fact, she couldn’t remember Kathryn Janeway ever making an actual appointment to see her in an official capacity. However, here were the records of multiple counseling sessions in which Kathryn had been treated for depression.

Kieran went back through the holovid records, furiously trying to make a connection in her head, desperate to remember the topics they had discussed, and drew a complete blank. And for the first time, Kieran could distinctly put her finger on a glaring discrepancy between her memory and the records before her: Kathryn Janeway had never been engaged to Mark Johnson. She told a completely different story, about a woman she had met at the Academy, an upper classwoman who Captained the Academy Hoverball and Velocity teams and who won Kathryn’s heart. Long after they had both graduated, Kathryn continued to be involved with this woman, whom she referred to simply as Deke. Until they had been lost in the Delta Quadrant, Kathryn had expected to spend her life with Deke, albeit a life lived mostly apart, since they were both now starship Captains, but clearly, Kathryn had considered this woman her soulmate. Until she met Seven of Nine.

Kieran was fairly certain from sharing a close friendship with Janeway that Seven of Nine was Janeway’s first and only female lover. It was an historical difference Kieran couldn’t simply dismiss. She resolved to ask Kathryn about it as soon as she could find a way to orchestrate a conversation that was pertinent to the subject.

As the days passed, there were numerous, niggling details that stuck in Kieran’s conscience, clues about her true identity, and it became more difficult to explain them away. She felt guilty for not having the courage to examine them more closely, out of fairness to those she loved, but she settled for dismissing them as insignificant when she couldn’t retrospectively reinterpret her own memories to suit the reality she saw. She told herself that it didn’t really matter if this Voyager crew had never heard of leola root, except for Neelix, who disparaged it as barely edible. She argued inwardly that it was a trick of her mind in thinking Kathryn Janeway was a devout coffee addict, when this Janeway preferred tea.

And try though she might, she couldn’t quite reconcile her memory of Chakotay’s tattoo with the design she saw on his face. Harry Kim, she thought, played the clarinet, not the saxophone. As for the Doctor, he kept nagging her to come to sickbay for a physical, when she knew full well she had just had one in the last three months, which was protocol for an artificial organ recipient.

More than all that, Naomi’s behavior was inexplicable. She wasn’t overtly hostile to Kieran, but she certainly rejected her at every turn. Kieran had tried to make overtures to spend time together, suggested the sort of holodeck outings that Naomi would ordinarily jump at, and the Ktarian always had an excuse for why she wasn’t available. Kieran knew it couldn’t simply be attributed to the trauma Naomi had been through in thinking Kieran died. The Naomi Kieran knew would have welcomed her back with open arms and an open heart, but she barely acknowledged Kieran’s existence. Kieran was deeply wounded by the cold shoulder she received, but tried to ascribe it to Naomi’s attempts to adjust to Kieran being gone and then suddenly coming back. Of everything different in her new world, Kieran found Naomi’s indifference to her the most trying aspect of assimilating. She missed her friend, and it saddened her to remember all the fun times they had shared. The family feeling between them was replaced by a grudging acceptance that Kieran was there, like it or not.

When Kieran had been back a couple of weeks, she decided to take more aggressive measures to deal with Naomi’s reluctance to see her. She wondered if there was some lingering issue she hadn’t addressed, perhaps with regard to Naomi’s romantic feelings for the Counselor, and she resolved to settle the air between them. She scheduled an appointment for Naomi to see her, and waited patiently to get to the bottom of the problem.

_______________

"You wanted to see me?" Naomi entered Kieran’s office laden with data PADDs and a plasma infuser, fresh from school and her lessons in Engineering.

"Yes. Please sit down," Kieran directed her to the chair opposite the large desk Kieran worked at. "I see B'Elanna is working you like a dog again," she smiled, nodding at the plasma infuser.

"No. She is teaching me great stuff. It’s not like real work. Now, exobiology, that’s like real work," she groaned. "The Doctor just drones on and on about it," she griped. "What did you want to see me for? I’ve got a lot of homework," she edged her chair back from the Counselor’s desk.

Kieran sighed. "I want to know why you’re avoiding me, Na. Ever since I got back, you’ve acted so distant and unfeeling—I don’t understand. Have I done something to make you angry with me?"

"You died," Naomi replied truthfully.

"But honey, I’m right here," she pleaded. "I’m not dead. We used to be such good friends, Na, I miss you. Don’t you miss me at all?"

"You’re different now. And I guess I’m different now, too. I miss someone who died, the Kieran that didn’t come back. I’ve never stopped missing her, and I never will. But that’s not who I see when I look at you."

Kieran was mightily confused. "Who do you see, when you look at me, Naomi?"

The Ktarian shrugged. "I don’t know who you are," she replied truthfully.

"I’m the same person I’ve always been, Na. I’m the one who nearly lost my mind with worry when you ran away from home. I’m the woman who almost died trying to stop kidnappers from grabbing you. I’m the person whose wedding you were in, the friend you needed when your mom wanted to die, and the one who you honored with your very first kiss, though it scared me shitless at the time," she recalled. "I haven’t changed, Na. I love you. I need you in my life, just like you’ve always been in my life."

Naomi wanted to be able to respond to the sadness in Kieran’s eyes, but she felt nothing more than resentment. "I don’t know how to be the person you’re talking about," she replied softly. "The Kieran I loved died in a shuttlecraft accident in a spatial rift. I don’t know who you are, or how you got here, or why anyone believes you’re Kieran, but you’re not my Kieran."

Kieran’s tone was beseeching. "How do you know that? What makes you so sure?"

"There are subtle things, like that your eyes aren’t the same as hers, and you don’t smell right. But the real reason I know you aren’t her is that if you were, you’d drag me to sickbay and make the Doctor prove you’re who you claim to be. You’d show me a thing or two. You’d be so desperate to get our relationship back, you’d do anything. Do you want to go to sickbay, Counselor?" she asked pointedly.

"I would, Na, but I have an appointment in a couple of minutes," she reasoned, though in her heart she knew she would never let the Doctor examine her.

"Right," Naomi replied sarcastically. "Well, when you miss me so much you can’t stand it, meet me in sickbay, Counselor. I have to go," she informed her disdainfully, gathering her belongings and walking out of the office.

Kieran watched her go with a heavy heart. I’m afraid to find out, she realized. I’m not sure what’s real, anymore, and I don’t want to find out I’m wrong about being back home.

____________

Despite the cascade of mounting evidence that Kieran Thompson-Torres was displaced yet again, she staunchly refused to let herself believe it, or even seriously consider it, and she forged ahead with her attempts to make the transition to this dimension, and to make it smoothly. She resumed her former duties, rekindled her friendships, dedicated herself to her wife and child, and adopted her previous leisure activities, all in a tenuous bid for normalcy.

The intramural basketball league playoffs were upon them, and Naomi was expected to play on Kieran’s team. Naomi decided to let the adults have their little fantasy, and to pretend nothing was wrong. She practiced with her squad and ignored the hurt looks Kieran directed at her, determined to get through the tournament and to resign from the league as soon as the season was over.

Kieran’s team, The Warp Drive Five, easily defeated Chakotay’s Soliton Wave in the first round of the playoffs, and advanced to the second round. In the second round, they played against Tom Paris’ team, the Delta Dunkmasters. During a heated exchange, Kieran went up for a rebound against Rachael Jones, the dominant center on Paris’ team, and the two women collided dangerously as they battled for the ball. Kieran came down badly, landing on her shoulder and head. She lay motionless on the court, and no one could rouse her.

Sickbay was buzzing as the two women were brought in. Rachael had sprained an ankle and strained a knee in the collision, and was dispatched easily. Kieran, however, was unconscious.

"Get out of my way," the Doctor snapped at Noah Lessing, who had transported along with Kieran and B'Elanna from the gymnasium. He scanned her head first. "She’s got a nasty concussion, and it looks to me as if she had another one very recently that isn’t completely healed," he reported. He continued scanning and did a double take. "This can’t be right," he muttered, rechecking his results. He frowned and scanned yet again. "All right. Everyone out of my sickbay unless you are nonambulatory," he thundered. "Lieutenant Torres, you stay put." He slapped his comm badge. "Sickbay to the Captain."

"Janeway here. Go ahead."

"Captain, I need you down here immediately."

Janeway wondered what in the world could be wrong this time, but headed for sickbay.

___________

"You’re absolutely certain?" Janeway conferred with the Doctor.

"Yes Captain, there’s no mistaking it. Kieran—the one in my sickbay—has an artificial heart. And she has both of her lungs. As you know, our Kieran had her own heart and only one lung. Her second lung was destroyed when she was shot in the chest by the Maltanian kidnapper that took Naomi."

B'Elanna hung her head. "My Kieran really is dead, then." She bit her lip. "I guess I knew, deep down, but I didn’t want to believe it."

Kathryn flinched. "You knew?"

B'Elanna nodded. "I suspected. There have been subtle hints that I deliberately ignored or dismissed. I wanted Kieran to be alive so badly," she said poignantly.

Kathryn smirked. "I am as guilty of that as you are, B'Elanna. Seven and Naomi both told me that’s not our Kieran, and I wouldn’t listen. I just needed her to be our Kieran, that’s all." Janeway patted B'Elanna’s hand. "I’m sorry, B'Elanna. I shouldn’t have been so weak that I allowed myself to believe what I wanted to see." She sighed sadly. "Is she going to be all right, Doctor?"

"Oh, yes, she’ll be fine. She has an intermediate head injury and a torn rotator cuff. Those things I can repair easily enough. What I can’t repair is her psyche. Her neurochemical balance is utterly in shambles. We have to send her back to her dimension, or at least, we should try. But if she ends up in another strange alternate universe, she may end up with full blown spatial psychosis."

"Is there anything you can do for her to alleviate the chemical imbalance in her brain?"

He sighed. "I can try, but Captain, spatial psychosis is virtually untreatable. I will be lucky if I can reduce the imbalance. Normalizing it is highly unlikely."

"Do what you can, Doctor. The sooner we get her off the ship, the sooner we can all get on with our lives the way they were supposed to be," she squeezed B'Elanna’s hand.

___________

Kieran Thompson-Torres had regained some of her composure, though her mental stability was fragile. Kathryn and B'Elanna had seen her off in the Delta Flyer, and her confusion over where she was and where she was going was palpable. They felt they had no choice other than to send her on her way, however. As the vessel exited the corridor with a jolt, she bit her lip. Somehow, she knew immediately this was not her Voyager. It just felt wrong. And the hull plating looked wrong, as if it had been repeatedly damaged and never properly repaired.

"Voyager to Delta Flyer," the hail came.

"This is Lieutenant Kieran Thompson," she reported in, careful to omit the second part of her last name. "Requesting permission to dock in the shuttle bay."

"This is Captain Chakotay. Permission granted. That was an excellent demonstration, Kieran," the burly man’s voice boomed over the channel.

Kieran sighed with a bone-deep tiredness. Janeway wasn’t in command, maybe wasn’t even part of this dimension. As she disembarked the Flyer, she was greeted by the Captain and Tom Paris. She stumbled as she stepped off the ramp of the shuttle, and Paris caught her.

"Are you okay, Counselor? You don’t look so good," he commented as he helped her upright again. "I guess that last cut in rations is really having an impact."

"Captain," she addressed Chakotay. "I need to speak with you in private. Immediately," she added.

"Excuse us, would you Lieutenant Paris?" Chakotay asked pleasantly.

As soon as Tom left, Kieran turned to the Captain, who in her timeline was a robust, handsome man. In this timeline, he looked a good deal thinner. "I’m not your Kieran Thompson," she began. "I’m from another Voyager. One where Kathryn Janeway is still the Captain, Seven of Nine is married to her, Naomi Wildman is adopted by them, and Samantha Wildman is dead."

Chakotay nodded. "We detected a rift, but we thought you steered clear of it." He looked her over carefully. "Kieran," he said gently, "I know that things for you haven’t been easy," he started to explain away her theory. "And that what happened with Kathryn has taxed your ability to cope. But I don’t think you went through any spatial rift. You sure look like the Kieran I know." Except she isn’t nearly as thin. That’s curious. Nobody on this ship looks this healthy, not since the last rations cutback.

"I’m telling you, Chakotay, I’m not who you think I am. I have to go back. You have to open another rift and send me through it. Seven of Nine can tell you how to do it."

Chakotay flinched. "Seven of Nine is dead. Come on, let’s go to my ready room and discuss this. I think a trip to sickbay is in order, as well. Do you remember the last part of your pilot’s exam?"

Kieran’s brain was muddled. It had been several weeks since she’d taken any pilot’s exam. "The Jellico maneuver?"

Chakotay put a hand on her back as they headed for sickbay. He let out a sharp laugh. "The Jellico maneuver? Never heard of it. Did you by any chance hit your head, Counselor?"

"I didn’t hit my head," Kieran argued. "I am displaced. I don’t belong here. You have to send me back through that rift," she begged.

"B'Elanna Torres might be able to do it," he tried to pacify her for the time being, seeing as how she was getting agitated. Maybe she’s finally snapped her cap. God knows, we’re all teetering on that edge. "Let’s have the Doctor look you over first, and then we’ll consider your ‘spatial displacement’, okay?" he decided to humor her. I wish I were spatially displaced, then this fucking nightmare would be over with. No more Voyager, no more Janeway, no more any of this.

____________

The Doctor completed the cursory physical, and made a few notations in a data PADD. "Well, Captain, I would have to say this is not our Kieran Thompson," he concluded. "I haven’t seen anyone on this ship this well nourished in over a year." He didn’t bother to temper the reproving tone of his voice. "As for head injuries, I detect none. Moreover, this woman has an artificial heart. Kieran Thompson, according to my records, has never had any artificial or damaged organs."

"Shit," Chakotay muttered. "If you’re here, then where the hell is my Ship’s Counselor?"

Kieran shook her head. "Don’t ask me, Captain."

"Is she free to go?" Chakotay asked the Doctor.

"Yes. She’s better off than most of the crew, so I don’t see why not," the Doctor replied acidly.

Due to standing ship’s energy conservation protocol, he had done only the most superficial scan on the Counselor, and that did not include neurological chemistry work ups. He completely overlooked that she was suffering from spatial psychosis.

"Computer, deactivate EMH," Chakotay ordered.

"I see in any dimension, he’s a pain in the ass," she muttered.

Chakotay helped her from the biobed, laughing. "You can say that again. But I’ve been restricting his activation time, and he’s not my biggest fan, as a result."

Kieran was mildly surprised. "Why would you want to do that? Janeway always let him stay activated at his own discretion. It’s not like he gets tired."

"Power conservation," Chakotay answered honestly. "We’re in dire straits, here, Counselor, and we can’t afford the luxury of holodecks, sentient holograms, or," he directed her toward the ready room, "full lighting."

Kieran looked down the dim corridor, astonished. "It must be very bad, if you’ve dropped the lights this low."

Chakotay nodded. "Two full foot candles lower," he informed her.

Kieran glanced dully at the kind eyes regarding her. "Forgive me for being blunt, but what happened to Kathryn Janeway in this timeline?"

"You can see her if you want to," Chakotay replied softly. "She’s in the brig."

"She—what?" Kieran thought she was going to lose her mind.

"She’s been in there for close to two years," he explained.

"You mutinied?" Kieran asked in disbelief.

"I relieved her of duty. She tried to kill a Starfleet Officer to get information out of him."

Kieran sighed. "Noah Lessing," she stated flatly.

"I take it she got away with it, in your timeline," he said grimly.

"In my timeline, you were the one who could have ended up in the brig for insubordination," Kieran tried not to get defensive on Kathryn’s behalf. "I’d like to see her."

Chakotay shrugged. "Suit yourself. It’s not a pretty sight, I’m warning you. You probably won’t recognize her."

"I’ve been in so many different timelines, Chakotay, I don’t think anything could faze me now," she complained. "Now that you’re convinced I’m who I claim I am, do you still need to meet with me?"

"Not really. Unless there’s something more you need?" he asked sincerely.

"No, nothing. I’d like to see Kathryn. I know the way. Will you please get B'Elanna working on the problem of reopening the rift? I have to leave soon."

"As soon as she can manage it, Counselor. Feel free to avail yourself of whatever resources we have. And Kieran? Don’t say I didn’t warn you about Kathryn."

Kieran steeled herself against whatever awaited her in the security section of the ship. As she made her way down the long corridor, she noted that this ship was in a state of disrepair. Nothing critical, but minor things were wrong with this Voyager. The walls were dirty, the console displays seemed weak due to the dearth of available power, and the crew looked sallow and malnourished.

Kieran rounded the corner, heading toward the detention center, and ran smack into B'Elanna Torres, bouncing off of her as they collided. She instinctively rushed to verify the sputtering Klingon was all right.

"I’m sorry, B'Elanna," she apologized heartily. "God, are you okay?" Kieran peered down into deep brown eyes.

"Fine. Don’t worry about it," B'Elanna grinned ruefully. "Hey, I hear congratulations are in order."

Kieran stared vacantly at the woman she could only think of as her lover. My God, she’s so thin, and she looks so much older.

"Your pilot’s exam?" B'Elanna prompted her.

Recognition settled into the Counselors face. "Oh that, yes, thanks," she agreed. She touched B'Elanna’s face, and while the Klingon was startled at the intimacy of the gesture, she permitted it. "Lanna," Kieran murmured, "you look so tired, bangwIj," she noted with concern.

B'Elanna gave her a puzzled frown. It had been years since either woman had spoken an endearment to the other. "I’m a mother and the Chief Engineer on a ship that’s falling apart at the seams. What do you expect?" she asked without getting defensive.

Kieran put her arms around the smaller woman, hugging her. "I’m worried about you," she admitted, not entirely grasping that this B'Elanna Torres was not her wife.

B'Elanna gently pushed her away. "I’m okay, really. Oh, I could use more food—we all could. But otherwise, I’m fine."

Kieran nodded. "Take my rations for today. I’ll credit your account."

"No, I couldn’t," she protested. "I couldn’t ever repay them," she added, though the temptation was great.

"At least take half," Kieran insisted, "and don’t worry about repayment. I’m actually looking to shed a few pounds," she joked.

B'Elanna considered declining momentarily, but hunger forced her to accept. "Well, thanks, KT. This isn’t just a ploy to win me back, is it?" she asked reluctantly.

"No, no, of course not," Kieran scrambled to explain. "Your Klingon metabolism is so much more demanding than mine, I just figure you need the extra rations. And I respect your choices, B'Elanna."

"Sorry," B'Elanna shrugged. "I had to ask. It’s getting close to our anniversary and you always get a little weird then," she pointed out.

"No, I want you to know, your life is your own, and I don’t expect anything from you. I do still care about you, though," Kieran couldn’t entirely mask the longing in her voice.

"I appreciate that. And I hope you mean it, because I really do love Chakotay."

"I understand that," Kieran lied.

"Well, then, I’ll see you later. Congratulations again, on the pilot’s exam."

"Thanks, Lanna." Kieran watched the Klingon walking away, feeling bereft. How could you leave me for him, bangwIj? After what he did to Kathryn. How could you love anyone but me? God, B'Elanna, I’ve always loved you so. Always. I want my life back. My love back. I want to go home, she ached inwardly, mind clouded with conflicting glimpses of reality, conflicting memories of what her dimension was like.

She entered the secured area and approached the heavily guarded holding cell. Before she could speak, Janeway threw herself at the force field.

"Goddamn you, I told you to stop fucking bothering me!" she screeched as she jumped against the field and was thrown flat on her back. "Go to hell, Counselor! You can’t help me, you can’t you can’t you can’t you can’t you can’t," Janeway started to sound singsong in her delivery. "Can’t, shan’t, split my pants, no romance, I never dance," she hollered nonsensically.

Kieran fought the nausea that welled in her. Kathryn Janeway was a full blown schizophrenic, babbling what therapists called clang associations. The woman’s skin was wrinkled and yellow, stretched over thinning bones, her shoulders bent with premature aging. She turned to the guard. "Has she seen the Doctor?"

The guard tried not to roll his eyes. "You ask me that everytime you come in here, Counselor, and I tell you the same thing. She refuses treatment. Chakotay won’t force it on her. The Doctor can’t provide it if Janeway won’t accept it and Chakotay won’t mandate it. She’s nuts, Counselor, and there’s nothing you can do about it."

"Why can’t I prescribe something for her? There are good medications to treat her."

He sighed. "You know they won’t let you unless you get her to agree. You can’t force her to accept treatment. And since Seven died, she won’t do anything to help herself."

Kieran pinched the bridge of her nose. "Tell me, Ensign. How exactly did Seven die?"

"You were there, Counselor. Have you lost your mind too?" His dark features showed no patience.

"Humor me. That’s an order," she spat.

"Yes Sir. Seven of Nine died trying to help Captain Janeway retain her command. Commander Chakotay killed Seven of Nine."

"Whose side was I on?" Kieran felt herself going numb.

"The right side, Sir," he answered. "Captain Chakotay’s side."

"No wonder she snapped," Kieran muttered. "Tuvok? Did he support Janeway?"

The Ensign nodded. "He died trying to, anyway. Him and Harry Kim both. Misguided. Poor bastards."

Kathryn was up pacing the cell, ranting and raving at invisible people. "I told her! Didn’t you tell her too? She keeps coming back! Make her leave. God I hate that bitch. Backstabbing cunt!" she shouted at Kieran. "You fucking backstabbing cunt! Cunt, runt, stunt, punt, grunt, grunt, grunt. Where is my breakfast, Guard? Where is my oatmeal and coffee? Let me have it so I can throw it in your fucking face. In her fucking face. In my own fucking face," she cackled hysterically.

Kieran approached the force field, stopping just beyond it’s periphery. "Kat—please, listen to me. I can help you. Let me help you."

Kathryn stopped laughing and looked at her former best friend. "You can’t help me. Won’t let you. You killed them all. You and that fucking maggot with the tattoo. My Seven…my poor Seven…he killed her. He always hated her. Always. Just because she was Borg. That’s the only reason, you know. That and she wouldn’t look twice at him. She loved me. She couldn’t look at him because she—loved—me! And that killed him. He couldn’t have me, he couldn’t have her, he couldn’t have the ship, so he took her away, took my ship away, and locked me away. Bye bye, Katie. Bye Seven. Lock, stock and barrel. Lock, stock, tick tock shock. You can’t help me, Miss Missy. You’re a traitor. I don’t want your help," she was wild-eyed, hair disheveled, matted, and spiked through with gray. "You think some pill is going to get it back? It just makes me remember better what I lost. Fuck that. Fuck you. FUCK YOU ALL! DO YOU HEAR ME? THIS IS THE CAPTAIN SPEAKING. FUCK YOU ALL."

Kieran could hardly stand to look at what had become of the woman she so admired. "Kathryn, please. Let me help you," she turned to the guard. "Lower the force field and let me in there."

He stiffened. "No Sir. You know I can’t. Captain Chakotay damn near threw me in the brig last time I let you try that."

"You want to help me?" Kathryn whispered. "Help me, Kieran, please," she pleaded, falling to her knees. "Get me a phaser, Kieran. That’s all I want. Let me blow my fucking head off. That will shut up the voices. That will make the hurt stop. That will give me some peace."

"Oh Jesus, Kathryn, you know I can’t do that," she begged for understanding. "There are other ways I could help you. Please, let me tell you."

"Yeah, talk talk talk," Janeway waved her away. "Fuck that. Talk is cheap. You know that, though, don’t you. You talked a lot, Counselor. Best friends, you and I. And when the shit hit the fan, you were with Chakotay. Spineless jelly fish cunt. You and your fucking Klingon girlfriend. But she dumped you, woohoo, soon as old Chakotay took my pips. Fucking him ever since," Kathryn ranted. "That kid of theirs is the ugliest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, more than a goddamned Kazon. Help me Kieran. Send me to the Kazon. They’ll kill me. Please. Get me a shuttle. Get me the hell out of here. I can’t live like this. I can’t. Send me to the Hirogen. Let them eat me, chop me up. Hell, send me to the Vidians for body parts. Everything works except my fucking brain."

"I love you, Kat," Kieran was crying. "I’ll do what I can."

"Yeah, you do that. I’ll hold my breath, Counselor backstabber."

____________

Kieran reviewed the computer’s replicator ration allotment logs and determined that if she used the dietary supplement formulas Seven of Nine had favored, she could get by on two rations a day. She had been allotted six. She punched in the commands to credit B'Elanna’s account with four additional rations.

Even at ten a day, she’s going to be struggling to maintain her weight with that hyperactive Klingon metabolism of hers. And with a baby to feed, she’s probably skimping on herself. Morale must be in the toilet on this ship, with the power and recreational restrictions, and food so scarce.

Kieran called up the computer logs of her counterpart, anxious to have the full story of how this Voyager had ended up under Chakotay’s command. "Computer, search personal logs to the Stardate immediately after the mutiny."

"Please restate the parameters. There is no chronological search parameter for the word mutiny," the computer reported.

"Yeah, I bet there’s not. ‘Relieved her of duty’, my ass, Chakotay. Computer, play personal logs of Kieran Thompson starting two weeks before Chakotay was logged as Captain of Voyager."

The computer chirped acknowledgement. Kieran Thompson appeared on the screen, looking fairly good, compared to the rest of the crew in its current condition.

Stardate 2558.6

I’m concerned about this Captain Ransom and what appears to be going on aboard the Equinox. Kathryn has her suspicions, as well, but for now she is following Starfleet protocol to the letter. I can tell her patience is wearing thin with the evasiveness of the Equinox’ crew.

The next entry revealed a distraught, sleep-deprived Kieran Thompson:

Stardate 2558.9

All hell is breaking loose on the ship, and Chakotay and B'Elanna have started planning to take over command. I don’t dare warn Kathryn, because I’m sure they’re watching me. Chakotay is going to try to enlist the support of Tom Paris, but he’s already decided against recruiting Tuvok and Harry. Seven is out of the question, of course. I’m still not sure what possessed them to approach me. Kathryn is my best friend! I’ll admit, she’s been a little erratic lately, but mutiny? Chakotay feels justified because of what Kathryn did to Noah Lessing, or tried to do. I tried to register my dissent, but he told me that if he has to, he’ll use deadly force to remove Kathryn from command, and that made my blood run cold. I don’t want to die out here, so far from home. Mom and Dad already lost one kid. Now they think I’m dead too. I don’t want to miss the chance to surprise them, to show up on Earth and allay all their fears. I never expected to choose between my life and some political bullshit between two Starfleet officers who are supposed to be on the same fucking side. B'Elanna and I want to start a family soon. I don’t give a shit if Ransom has been killing aliens and using them for fuel. I mean, it’s tragic, but it’s not my problem!

"Coward!" Kieran raged at the lingering image of herself. "You fucking disloyal, ungrateful, traitorous, murdering pussy!"

The next log began with a Kieran Thompson that looked like she hadn’t slept in a year. Deep, black circles showed prominently under her eyes and a wild, terrified expression plastered over her face as she said:

Stardate 2559.5

Dear God Almighty, Chakotay really did it. He got over three-quarters of the crew to back him. That two-faced son of a bitch convinced the crew that if they supported him, we’d get home sooner. No more deals with the Borg, no more ration cuts, more shore leave—whatever they wanted, he promised to give them. And those drones fucking believed him!

Kathryn—Kieran suppressed a sob with her hand—Kathryn is in the brig, and Seven of Nine is dead. Chakotay killed her with a compression grenade when she and Kathryn barricaded themselves in the Cargo Bay. I only went along with Chakotay to try to keep it from becoming a blood bath, but now, God help me, I wish I’d defended Kathryn. I didn’t see the point, with him having most of the crew backing the mutiny, and all I could think was that I could save Kat. Kieran drew a labored breath, running her hand over her hair. The look on her face when I asked her to surrender—oh, God, it’s burned into my memory with such agonizing intensity, I can’t stand it. Kieran broke down in the playback.

I should have died in there, like Tuvok, like Harry. And Kathryn wanted to die. After seeing Seven blown apart, watching her comrades cut down by compression rifles, she was ready and willing to die. I don’t know what the fuck came over me, but instead of letting her go out, guns blazing, I stepped in the line of fire to keep Chakotay from killing her. And now I wish to God she’d killed me and kept fighting, but she didn’t. She couldn’t shoot me. What have I done? Seeing her locked up, caged like a rabid animal, the devastation in her face—God, it’s too hard. She never told Seven that she loves her. Never admitted it to her. And now Seven is dead. And Kathryn has been arrested and locked up, because I was too weak to watch her die, and too afraid to stand beside her when it really mattered.

I let B'Elanna talk me into siding with Chakotay. I believed her when she told me I could make the transition of power a peaceful one. I truly thought so. Oh yeah, Kieran Thompson, the great mediator, the honorable diplomat. B'Elanna told me if I sided with Kathryn, it was over between us, because I would be the enemy. So I caved. Idiot! And all this time, months and months, she has been sleeping with Chakotay, or so Kathryn tells me. I know Kat would say anything she could to hurt me, and I deserve that, but I think she’s telling the truth about this. And none of it really matters, because it’s over with Lanna now. Even if it wasn’t true as far back as Kathryn says, it’s true now. B'Elanna is lovers with Chakotay. My best friend is imprisoned. My comrades are dead. And I’m a traitor who tried to save my own sorry ass.

Kieran Thompson-Torres was too filled with disgust to muster any pity for herself. "I should have died," she muttered. "I should have switched sides and taken out Chakotay. I owed Kathryn that much." She let out a keening wail, rocking herself, buffeted about by images of Seven of Nine’s mutilated corpse, Kathryn’s facial expression at the ultimate realization that her dearest friend had betrayed her, of young Harry Kim dying at the hands of his own crewmates. What vestiges of sanity Kieran clung to began to unravel. Self-preservation kicked in at the last moment. "Naomi Wildman," she whispered. "I need to see Naomi."

"Computer, display records for Naomi Wildman." Kieran had held out as long as she could. She had been so afraid to seek out the youngest member of the crew, simply because the last two times she had seen Naomi, aboard the previous two Voyagers, it had been so depressing. But she was a drowning woman, and maybe Naomi in this reality could be a lifeline.

A picture of the Ktarian popped up on the screen.

Naomi Wildman, deceased. Official cause of death—blunt trauma to the head and torso. Injuries sustained due to exposure to an explosive device during the battle in Cargo Bay 2 on Stardate 2559. Survived by Ensign Samantha Wildman, assigned to USS Voyager.

"Oh God," Kieran cried out, "Oh God, no," she moaned, rocking and keening. After several minutes of letting the shock sink in, she ordered "Computer, continue personal logs. Play only those logs that mention Naomi Wildman."

The computer continued heartlessly on with the story. Naomi Wildman, at the age of six, had blundered into the insurrection on Voyager, and in her innocence, she had been killed, trying as she had on so many occasions to tag along after Seven of Nine. On Stardate 2559, Naomi had been hiding in the Cargo Bay, waiting for Seven to come in. When the battle broke out, Naomi had darted across the deck, diving for cover behind a storage pod, where she hugged Seven of Nine seconds before Seven was torn limb from limb by the concussion of a compression grenade. Seven had, as her final act, tried to throw Naomi clear of the blast zone when she saw the grenade land. She hadn’t thrown her far enough.

If only Naomi hadn’t been there, Seven could have lobbed the grenade back at Chakotay. Her reflexes were quick enough, Kieran Thompson told the holorecorder. But because she tried to save Naomi, she didn’t have time to save herself. And now they’re both gone. Sam is under a 24 hour suicide watch. The only thing that’s keeping me from killing myself is the thought that I don’t deserve that sort of mercy. My sweet little Naomi, my precious god-daughter, is dead, and her blood is on my hands. Hers, Seven’s, Harry’s and Tuvok’s. Mine and B'Elanna’s and Chakotay’s hands. And Kathryn festers in that fucking brig, tortured by the memories of what we did to her, with no hope in sight. I can’t reason with her. She is completely lost to me, to all of us. Chakotay won’t let the Doctor or I treat her without her consent. She won’t consent. We thought we were doing the right thing, the Doctor and I. We agreed that Kathryn was unstable, after the incident with Noah Lessing, and we signed the orders to remove her from command. Now I think the real lunatic is the current Captain of this ship. Ruthless, emotionless, sociopathic killer—he showed his true colors when he launched that grenade at Seven. He could have stunned them all with a phaser. He could have made it bloodless coup. But he went in there with the intention of killing them all. And Kathryn was the only one spared.

Naomi Wildman is dead. Sam will never, ever forgive me for this. And I can never begin to forgive myself. I don’t know how to go on living like this. And I don’t see the point. Everything I ever cared about has been destroyed. Everyone I ever loved is either dead, or hates me.

Sam couldn’t stand to be the one to identify the body. As god-mother, I’m next of kin after Sam. I had to be the one to go to the morgue and verify that that shattered little body was Naomi’s. Why the Doctor couldn’t just do the ID himself is beyond me. There was no doubt about who was in that drawer, and I think he wanted to punish me. I accept that. I deserve that. Kieran’s eyes streamed with tears in the playback. I will never be able to close my eyes again, as long as I live, without seeing Naomi like that, cold and still and ruined. I kept thinking she would open her eyes and make some joke, or sit up and ask me to read to her. But she just lay there, naked and bruised, as if she’d been beaten to death. And I guess that’s what you could call it, dying from blunt trauma, anyway you look at it. Thank God she didn’t linger. If I had just let Chakotay shoot Kathryn, Naomi might be alive. And Kathryn wouldn’t be in prison. And maybe I’d be the one in the drawer in the morgue. I’d give anything to be able to go back and do it over, so it would turn out that way. Instead I close my eyes and sleep refuses to come. It mocks me, fills my head with images of Naomi’s corpse. We’re going to commit her body to space tomorrow. I wish I could climb in that torpedo casing with her and go wherever she is going. I was there in the Cargo Bay. I know she suffered. I watched her suffering in the time it took between the explosion and the murder of Harry and Tuvok, until I had subdued Kathryn. I can still hear her soft moans coming from behind the storage pod. I couldn’t go to her. I can still hear her pleading for Seven to help her. She didn’t even know Seven was dead.

Kieran Thompson-Torres’ screaming was only supplanted by the sound of her head as she slammed it against the wall of her quarters repeatedly.

____________

B'Elanna Torres was no slouch at engineering in any dimension, but in this dimension, without Seven of Nine to assist, she did not make progress very quickly with regard to Kieran’s problem. Four days had passed, and still she had not figured out how to open a rift for the Delta Flyer to journey through.

Kieran was going stir crazy. She visited Janeway every day, despite how deeply it disturbed her to see Kathryn delusional and raving. It was almost as if Kieran felt she could absolve herself of sins she never committed, sins of another Kieran Thompson, by doing time along side her former best friend. She sat outside Kathryn’s cell, listening to her crazed tirades, trying to calm her with words that did nothing to comfort or lend solace. She kept hoping she would find a way to reach through the veil of madness to reach the woman beneath the wild eyes and tangled hair, hidden behind the dirty, torn clothing that hung loose on her emaciated frame.

When she tried to sleep, Kieran heard Janeway in her head, screaming obscenities and babbling about wanting to die. Kieran tried to convince the Doctor to medicate the former Captain, but he refused. She pleaded with Chakotay, but he argued that Kathryn had the right to decide for herself to reject treatment. Finally Chakotay tired of Kieran’s attempts to persuade him and he forbade further discussion of the issue of Kathryn’s treatment.

"Good morning," Kieran greeted the prisoner with a false cheerfulness. Janeway did not respond.

She sat in the corner on the floor, eyes glassy and nonresponsive. She was singing to herself. It was a song Kieran had heard Seven of Nine sing on many occasions, and Janeway almost seemed peaceful as she struggled over the words in a voice that could only be described as grating. "You make me happy when skies are gray," Janeway sang in a faraway tone.

Kieran didn’t want to disturb the possible respite Kathryn had found, however fleeting. She sat down outside the brig, leaning against the wall, listening.

She had gone through her counterpart’s logs of the last two years, logs that detailed Janeway’s mental and physical deterioration, logs that indicated Kieran intended to help Janeway, but had not been permitted to do so. The logs mentioned that Kieran suspected Chakotay’s true motive for withholding treatment from Kathryn was that if she recovered even the barest trace of her sanity and rationality, she might take back command. Certainly, the crew was disillusioned, after all of Chakotay’s grandiose promises, with the state Voyager was in. If Kieran could only treat Kathryn, and help her escape, Voyager might get back to it’s relatively high level functioning that it enjoyed when Kathryn was in charge. That, Kieran hypothesized, was Chakotay’s machiavellian agenda, and it provided the most brilliantly circular reasoning. Crazy woman can’t understand she needs help, thus can’t request it. If she can’t consent to it, she can’t receive it. If she never receives help, there’s no way she can challenge Chakotay to take the ship back.

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" Kathryn asked Kieran Thompson-Torres.

"Doing what, Kat?" Kieran tried to gentle her voice.

"Why do you keep coming here? It hurts me!" she screamed, suddenly agitated. "HURTS! You’re like a swarm of locusts picking my bones clean, pick, pick, pick, pick! Take a bite and be done with it, for Christ’s fucking sake. Finish it!" Kathryn jumped up and started pacing, her shoulders bent with disuse. "It’s like grapefruit in the winter, it makes no sense, why you would pick, pick, pick. I’ve never seen a purple so obtuse and so transparent. So bruised. The sky just keeps fragmenting and no one understands it, but I do. I do. Oh, you think I’m too sly to understand, but I get it, Miss Missy. I was raised by Gretchen Janeway. I’m Edward’s girl. He’s important. He is coming to rescue me. He will smash the locusts of this ship and vengeance will be mine. Thus sayeth the Lord. I am the Lord your God, and no one comes to the father, Edward Janeway, except through me. Do you hear me, Counselor? No one! Not you. Not your precious Klingon. Only through me!" Kathryn’s hands flew about as she raved, her words flying out of her mouth along with venom and spittle. She crossed her arms and started marching back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

"Kieran?" she looked at the Counselor as if she actually understood who she was talking to for a brief, lucid interlude. "Will you help me?"

"If I can, Kathryn, you know that."

"I need a phaser, Kieran. Set to kill. Bribe the guard. He has a price. I’ve watched him, starving to death little by little. He hates me because they feed me, and I never eat this shit," she grabbed her tray and threw it across the cell. "I forget sometimes that I’m on a hunger strike," she confided. "But mostly I don’t eat a goddamned thing. I’ve tried to get him to come in here and eat my food, just to get the drop on him, but so far, he’s holding out," she chuckled. "Stubborn mother fucker, isn’t he?" She threw a look of pure hatred at the stalwart Ensign standing at attention behind the power console. "He’d probably let you kill me for a few rations, Kieran. Maybe just drop the force field long enough to toss me a phaser."

"Kat, you know I can’t do that. They’d lock me up."

Kathryn shrugged. "You’re as much a prisoner here as I am. Suit yourself." She went back to singing, this time a bawdy drinking ditty filled with harlots and sailors and oceans of beer. The guard actually blushed at the vulgar lyrics, and Janeway sang even louder as she plopped down in the floor and squished her discarded oatmeal through her fingers. She kept singing the tune of the bar song, but started making up her own lyrics. "Oatmeal looks like brains that spilled, brains that spilled, brains that spilled, I will never eat this swill, eat this swill, no never."

Kieran glanced at the officer. "Is she telling me the truth?"

"About what Sir?" he responded without looking at her.

"Does she refuse to eat?"

"Mostly," he admitted. "They should quit wasting the rations on her. She plays in it more than she ingests it. There are people suffering from malnutrition on this ship, and she throws out perfectly good food."

"Hasn’t anyone ever made the connection that when she was in charge, we all got to eat? It’s only since Chakotay took over that the rations have been cut down to nothing," Kieran tested him.

"You think she could run this ship now? Counselor, I’ve seen her make animal sculptures out of her own feces," he argued. "Chakotay’s the only one left alive that can make a go of this mess. If Tuvok were alive, or even Harry Kim, maybe there’d be another mutiny, but not without a viable leader."

"You know, Ensign, I bet if your hunger drove you a little over the edge, and you just happened to drop the force field and go in after her food, nobody would ask why she got shot. Have you ever been tempted?"

"Every fucking day, Sir. But there’s nothing says if I did that, they wouldn’t execute me for it. It’d be easy for them to do that, you know. One less mouth to feed. And nobody would ask twice what happened to me. But then you know all about that. I mean, after what the senior officers did to Neelix."

Kieran sat up straighter. "Neelix?"

"Counselor, your grasp of historical facts never ceases to underwhelm me," he griped. "You act like you’ve been sleeping for the past two years, or something. I’m beginning to think that bullshit you’ve been telling Janeway about you being from another dimension might be true," he laughed. "Neelix was executed. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that, too."

"I—I haven’t been myself," she lied. "I think things are hazy because I’m having a hard time dealing with the decisions I’ve made," she explained. "Please. What happened to Neelix?"

"He was hoarding food for the children. That was back when the aeroponics bay still had vegetables growing in it, and we had some surplus food stores. He got caught. Chakotay called a summary court together and he was sentenced to death."

"Children? How many are there?"

"Eight, at last count. Chakotay lifted the ban on reproduction long enough for Lieutenant Torres to get pregnant, then he reinstituted it. During the time it was lifted, there were 12 pregnancies. Four of those kids have died since, from nutrition related disorders, mostly. One got exposed to radiation and died."

"Good God," Kieran muttered.

"Yeah, it was awful. I was pretty good friends with one of the parents of one of the kids that died. A guy named Noah Lessing. He was such a great father. When his little boy died, his wife just couldn’t take it. She killed herself a couple of months later."

"His wife? Who was that?"

"Rachel McVicker. Beautiful woman. Too good for this fucking shithole, if you ask me," he opined with bitterness.

My Rachel? God, not my Rachel. It can’t be. She’d never have killed herself, not while I was here with her. It can’t be. But how could she be married to Noah? We were engaged. After I lost B'Elanna, wasn’t it? I could swear I asked Rachel to marry me, and she said yes. That was before the mutiny. Maybe after I got Naomi killed, she couldn’t stand the sight of me anymore. Probably turned to Noah out of disgust with me. Can’t blame her. I’ve done terrible things. Unspeakable things. Or was it someone else? I don’t remember doing those things, but I listen to my logs, and there I am, admitting I did them. Why can’t I remember any of it?

"So is she right about the other thing? About your having a price?" Kieran asked hollowly, not certain she’d spoken out loud.

"I probably do, Counselor, but you can’t afford it, I’m sure."

Kieran focused a little more acutely. "Try me."

"You’d have to guarantee me that they wouldn’t use it as an excuse to execute me. And it would cost you 50 replicator rations. It’s a small price to pay, really."

"Fuck, if I hadn’t been giving four a day to B'Elanna, I’d probably have almost that many saved by now."

He whistled. "Holy shit, you’ve been living on two a day? I thought you were losing weight, but you’re so slight to begin with, I wasn’t sure. Damn, are you nuts? She’s got to be getting mighty comfortable, getting ten rations a day. You must be her best friend. She must love having you around."

Janeway’s ears perked up. "You’ve been helping her? Feeding her? Hell no wonder she hasn’t figured out how to send you back through that rift," Janeway cackled. "No incentive to let you go. What a dumb ass," she howled with laughter. "I told you, you’re a prisoner here too, Kieran Thompson. Stuck. Might as well sleep in here with me," she laughed until she was crying. Then she kept crying. And started groaning as she cried. "Oh, Seven, my beautiful Seven, they murdered you. And I never told you how much I was in love with you. Why didn’t I say something? Why? Such a waste. Such longing and passion, wasted and neglected and dead. My Borg. My only love. Most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen."

Just when Janeway was making sense, she would slip back over the abyss again, back to nonsensical gibberish, as if making sense was too painful for her brain to sustain. She began walking the perimeter of her cell, round and round, chanting nursery rhymes. "There was an old woman who lived in a shoe," she muttered. "She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do." She completed six circuits of the cell before continuing. "There was an old woman, locked in a cell. Nobody could see it was much worse than hell." Eight more circuits. "Fe, fi, fo, fan, I smell the blood of Naomi Wildman." Four more times around. "Two bits, four bits, six bits, a dollar, all for shooting me, stand up and holler."

Kieran started to see the reason behind Janeway’s desperate pleas for death. Kathryn reminded her of her beloved dog, Emily, who had had a stroke when Kieran was a teenager. Emily had always been so energetic and eager to please, so loving and playful. After the stroke, she started having seizures. Eventually, the seizures caused so much neurological damage, the poor dog wandered the house in perpetual repetitive motion, walking the path of the interior of the house, stopping when she came to an impasse. It was as if her damaged brain could no longer comprehend that she had reached a solid object. Poor Emily would stand there, head resting against Kieran’s desk, and then she would suddenly start walking again, around the edge of the desk, down the wall, out the door, down the hall, back up the hall, back into Kieran’s room, around the wall, past the bed, back into the desk. She didn’t recognize Kieran, didn’t respond to her voice, didn’t rest, didn’t eat, didn’t drink. Kieran hated the conclusion but could not avoid it—Emily needed to be put to sleep. It was the most gutwrenching thing the teen-aged Kieran Thompson had ever decided. She wept every night for weeks after Emily died, even though she knew she had done the humane thing.

When Kieran was at the Academy, her younger sister came down with a terminal illness. Cassidy Thompson had always been a bright, energetic young woman, with a promising academic career ahead of her and a positive attitude that made everyone admire her. Cassidy only lived two months after her diagnosis, but what a horrific two months it had been. Kieran watched the lively green eyes fade to vacantness peppered with agony as Cassidy deteriorated. It damn near killed Kieran’s parents, watching their youngest withering away in measured increments. Kieran kept thinking of Emily, and wondering why no one had the courage to help Cassidy die the way she had helped Emily die. Cassidy begged them to end her suffering. She pleaded with the doctors to stop the pain. She had been forced to endure every agonizing moment of her protracted demise. Kieran became a staunch advocate of euthanasia from that moment forward. Cassidy had suffered needlessly for a life that was over the instant she got the diagnosis. Kieran regretted that she had never found the courage to help Cassidy end the suffering, despite Cassidy’s poignant pleas for release.

When Kieran Thompson-Torres looked at Kathryn Janeway, she saw a situation as hopeless as Cassidy’s had been. If Kathryn received treatment for her illness, she would only be returning to a sanity fraught with tragedy. Her lover was dead, her loyal officers had been slain, her career was over and her destiny was to be trapped aboard a ship where she could never be more than a prisoner awaiting trial, if they ever made it home. Insanity was kind, compared to that reality. Clearly, Kathryn would not choose to accept treatment, not ever. She would choose to die, if she were given that option.

______________

 

Kieran retreated to the guest quarters she had been given. She had spent the entire day with Janeway, trying to argue with her. Trying to win an argument with a crazy person was an exercise in futility, she knew, but she had to try. She collapsed wearily onto the bed. She lay there over an hour, trying to fall asleep, needing it physically and mentally, and unable to attain it. She had been aboard this Voyager over a week, and had hardly been able to rest at all, so fragmented was her grip on reality. Finally she gave up. She dragged herself over to the workstation in her quarters.

"Computer, display records for Kieran Thompson."

The screen scrolled the data as Kieran glanced over it. The picture of her counterpart looked like herself, but there was a pallor to her skin, a haunted quality in her expression. She looked every bit like a woman who had betrayed her best friend and left her to rot in a jail cell. Kieran returned to the bed, too spent to cry, too overwrought to think, and too overwhelmed to argue with herself about what she was planning to do.

"I’m going to find a way to fix this, Kat," she vowed. She meant it. Janeway’s was not a life with any quality or any hope of improving.

______________

 

Several days later, Kieran Thompson-Torres sat in Chakotay’s ready room, listening to the briefing of her proposed return through the rift. Kathryn had been correct about B'Elanna’s motivation to help Kieran return home, and it was miraculous that as soon as the extra rations stopped showing up in B'Elanna’s account, she suddenly figured out the problem of opening a rift in space.

"I want to talk to you about Janeway," Kieran said at the end of the briefing.

Chakotay steepled his fingers together. "I thought you might."

"Listen, Captain," Kieran lied, "in my timeline, we’ve figured out a way to compensate for the mutual annihilation factors involved in dimensional travel. I’m just a Counselor, and I can’t explain it. The Seven of Nine on my Voyager could explain it, but I’m just not that equipped to understand it, let alone explain it. But I can take Janeway with me. Let me sedate her and take her back to my Voyager. She’s not a criminal there. She could have some semblance of a normal life. In a dimension where she hasn’t been betrayed by everyone alive, she might have a chance at sanity. It would solve your problem."

Chakotay looked skeptical, but was still listening. "What problem is that?"

"The guilt you feel. The inhumanity of keeping her locked up in that brig. And you could stop wasting precious resources to keep her alive."

"You’re saying you could take her back and it wouldn’t cancel our history with yours?"

"Like I said, we can compensate for that. It’s a lot of mathematical gibberish that I can’t explain, but it can work."

"Why should I trust you?" he seemed to be tempted to.

"I don’t want to die. I have everything to live for. I’m not going to commit suicide to help a raving lunatic. I can help her, Chakotay. It’s that simple. She would have a reason to want to seek treatment in my dimension. Here, insanity is preferable to everything else."

"I’ll think about it Counselor. And I’ll talk to her. Give me a couple of hours." He nodded to dismiss her.

"Thank you, Captain."

_______________

"This should keep her in a manageable state," the Doctor explained as he pressed the hypospray to Janeway’s throat. "She won’t be unconscious more than a few minutes, but she will be docile. And I added thoraprovaline to eradicate the schizophrenia. She will be in her right mind for the trip," he whispered the last part, as if Chakotay might overhear his admission of guilt.

"Thank you, Doctor. Did you prepare the drugs I asked for?"

"Yes. They’re in this satchel."

"The sedatives will only let me transport her safely, and as soon as we’re back home, I’ll discontinue them."

The Doctor nodded. "Good luck. I hope you both find what you’re looking for," he said sincerely. "Computer, initiate site to site transport. Beam Counselor Thompson and Ms. Janeway to the Delta Flyer."

Kieran gathered Kathryn into her arms and arrived aboard the Flyer. She gently eased the unconscious woman to the deck, propping her up against the door. She went through her prelaunch preparations, cleared her departure through Captain Chakotay, then reached for her phaser and set it to kill. Janeway stirred from her position on the floor.

"Where are we going?" Janeway sounded lucid.

"You asked for my help, Kathryn, and I’m giving it to you," Kieran muttered, navigating the Flyer through the shuttle bay doors.

"Did you get me a phaser?" Janeway asked hopefully.

Kieran hesitated. "Yes. But I can’t let you have it. I don’t trust you. I don’t want to die."

"You’re going to shoot me?" Janeway’s voice was threaded with relief.

"You asked me to. Is that still what you want?" Kieran swallowed hard, not facing her Captain.

"Yes. Please. Just do it, Kieran. Do it now."

"You don’t want to know what other options you might have?" Kieran queried, wanting to be certain this was Kathryn’s choice.

"There are no other options. You told me you’re from another dimension. I can’t go with you there, can I?"

"No. I lied to Chakotay. He’s not as bright as you. He believed it."

Janeway snorted. "He always could believe whatever was convenient to believe. Why are you doing this?"

Kieran shrugged. "I shouldn’t be. But you’re my friend. Whatever happened between you and I, I should never have turned against you, and in any reality, you don’t deserve to suffer like this. I can’t bear to see it," her voice caught as she continued to pilot the shuttle toward the rift. "And I didn’t mean for it to be this way. If I had it to do over again, Kat, I’d fight to the death to keep you in command," Kieran’s jumbled thought processes couldn’t distinguish any longer between her own actions and those of her counterpart. She was grateful to be off that ship, regardless of where she ended up.

"You’re braver than she is," Janeway commented, smiling at the thought that soon, it would be over for her. No more voices, no more regrets, no more memories that rattled around in her skull driving her to the brink of self-mutilation. "I want you to kill me. Or let me kill myself, if you can’t do it. I can’t let you risk mutual annihilation of your world, and I can’t go back to mine."

Kieran plotted the course to the rift and punched in the autopilot commands. "Computer, initiate warp upon formation of the rift." Kieran looked at Voyager, hanging in the sky, forlorn and alone in the private hell Chakotay had engineered for them. She stood, taking the phaser. "It’s set to kill," she said softly. "For what it’s worth, Kathryn, I have always loved you like you are my family. And I would never again let a member of my family suffer needlessly, as you are," she swallowed hard and gazed at the ruined Captain through blinding tears. "Goodbye, Captain."

Janeway returned the gaze with confidence and a final glimmer of rationality. "Thank you."

Kieran lifted her arm and depressed the trigger. She looked away as the phaser discharged, killing Kathryn Janeway. "Computer, beam the Captain’s body into space."

Kathryn Janeway dematerialized and scattered across the Delta Quadrant. Kieran Thompson- Torres dropped her phaser to the deck and collapsed, hugging her knees and rocking herself. She wondered which of them had been crazier, Janeway, or herself.

___________

Kieran Thompson-Torres piloted the Delta Flyer back through the interdimensional corridor, hoping against hope that somehow, she would end up back where this whole spatial nightmare began. She suspected she would have a nervous breakdown if she ever had the luxury of being truly home again. The Flyer zipped along the tunnel of alternate universes, and she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs just to clear the nagging doubts in her head, to silence the dread that ate at her, to numb the despair she felt into submission.

She hysterically punched commands into the conn as she spotted a huge space ship dead ahead, but the momentum inside the corridor was too intense, and the Flyer would not enter normal space. "How the fuck do I stop this roller coaster ride?" she shouted to no one as the oncoming ship loomed larger in her view port. A force field caught the nose of the Flyer and slowed it to a reasonable speed, then stopped it. Kieran nearly fainted as she watched her tiny vessel being swallowed into the belly of the USS Parallax. "Like Jonah and the whale," she murmured, strangely unfeeling the fear that she should feel. She kissed her wedding ring in a superstitious gesture, and stood to exit the Flyer, which now rested securely inside the gargantuan ship. A very human looking male awaited her.

"Hello, Kieran," he greeted her amiably, smiling and extending his hand. "We are so delighted to have you aboard. You’re the last one," he checked off her name and spatial coordinates on the PADD he held. "You’re on board the USS Parallax. We’re sort of like the interdimensional police. We’re trying to correct the dimensional contamination that occurred when you went through that rift," he explained mildly. "You don’t look well at all," he noted her pasty complexion. "I think before we introduce you to your counterparts, you’d better stop by sickbay."

"Counterparts?" Kieran asked blankly.

"The other Kieran Thompsons. The ones you’ve displaced and that have displaced you. If you’re interested, that is. You don’t have to see them, if that is too strange for you."

"I think I am going to be sick," she doubled over, holding her stomach.

"Our tractor beam has that effect sometimes," he said apologetically. "Doke to sickbay," he said as he tapped his comm badge. "Site to site transport on my mark."

Kieran felt herself dissolve into particles. That was the last thing she remembered for several hours.

____________

Kieran Thompson-Torres awoke on a biobed in a sickbay that was not entirely unfamiliar. One glance around convinced her she had not simply had a bad dream, as she looked into the face of Kieran Janeway-Thompson, who was being examined by a female doctor. Kieran Janeway-Thompson was staring at her doppelganger intently, searching her face for something unnamed, a bemused expression on her face.

The female doctor finished her scans. "You look perfectly fine. Not a trace of Borg nanoprobes anywhere."

Kieran Janeway snorted. "Borg nanoprobes? Why the hell would you be looking for those?"

"We had to be certain. We had to not only go into a separate dimension to pull you out, we had to get there before you were assimilated. We wanted to make sure we had succeeded."

Janeway held out her hands in irritation. "Do I look Borg to you? I would think it’s pretty obvious I’ve never been assimilated." Then the doctors words sank in. "You mean I was going to be assimilated?"

The doctor looked sidelong at the agitated Lieutenant and noticed the other Kieran was awake. "Looks like your twin is starting to show signs of life again," she commented, chuckling. "I’m Doctor Malea Thomas," she said by way of introduction. "You’re looking much better than when they brought you in," she added, running a quick scan over Kieran Thompson-Torres’ body. "How do you feel?"

Kieran jumped. Her body tensed in fear, and Malea Thomas felt her stomach sink as Kieran Torres leapt from the biobed and backed into a corner. "Get away from me," she shouted, covering her head with her arms. "It hurts!" she screamed.

Kieran Janeway nodded in sympathy. "It’ll let up in a few hours," she called out, not understanding that her counterpart was not in her right mind. "I felt the same way when I got here. This dimensional hopscotch sucks," she complained, running her hands over her thighs as she sat atop the biobed.

Malea gave Janeway a stern look. "She’s got SP. Don’t talk to her. It will only confuse her more. In fact, you’re fine, so you should leave. I may have to sedate her."

"It’s me, but how can it be me?" Kieran Torres was becoming more agitated. "Which one are you?" she whispered. "Are you the one that married Janeway, or the one who killed her? No, wait, that was—that was me, I married her, I killed her," she babbled incoherently.

Kieran Janeway regarded her counterpart piteously. She caught a glimpse of a familiar looking ring. "You’re the one who married B'Elanna Torres," Janeway noted. Her eyes softened. "Katie is beautiful. Focus, Counselor, because they need you back with them."

Kieran glanced up with a tortured expression. "Katie? My little girl? Or was she someone else’s? I can’t sort it out anymore," she banged her head against the wall, as if to clear the muddled thoughts. She banged it several more times before Malea stopped her.

"I’m sorry, Kieran," she said to the lucid one, "you have to leave. You’re only going to aggravate her condition. I have to get her calmed down, and you’re not helping."

"Okay, I’m going," Kieran replied, scooting out of the sickbay obediently.

Malea got her arms around the woman huddling against the wall. "You’re okay now, Kieran," she said gently, sneaking a hypospray to her throat. As she depressed the trigger, the Counselor went limp. "God, what an ordeal you must have been through," she muttered.

______________

Ensign Kieran Thompson had requested a briefing with Captain Joe Doke of the USS Parallax. He dreaded these face-to-face question and answer sessions, but felt obligated to try to help his guests sort through the emotional complexity of dealing with multiple dimensions. Some could follow the form, if not the physics, and others could only shake their heads in frustration. Most didn’t bother to ask the technical questions. The ordinary course was to ask if the Parallax could fix whatever was wrong with wherever they came from, as if Doke were some interdimensional angel on a mission of mercy. He hated that most, because truth be told, he was just trying to preserve his own space and time, and prevent his own destruction. He had neither the power nor the jurisdiction to be the do-gooder his guests always deluded themselves into thinking he could be.

Kieran entered his ready room, and took the seat offered to her. "There’s one thing I don’t understand about all this," she began.

Doke laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges, lifting up the tufts of silvery hair at his temples. "Only one? Then you’re way ahead of me, Ensign."

Kieran smiled faintly, but forged on. "I’ve met all of my counterparts," she hastened to get an answer to her burning curiosity, "well, except the Borg drone. She’s a woman of few words, if you know what I mean. Not particularly friendly," she explained. "They all keep saying how your people brought them aboard after they entered a spatial rift."

Doke nodded.

"I didn’t enter any spatial rift, so how’d you get me?" Kieran gave him an enigmatic grin.

Doke smiled back. "Pure luck, as it turns out. We were trying to nab a different subject—er—a different Kieran Thompson—the one who replaced you at your spatial coordinates. And, well, we just flat out missed."

"Missed?" Kieran asked impatiently.

"It’s complicated," he admitted. "We’re from a time that could be called your future, though it’s not exactly a linear relationship to your dimension, but several hundred years ahead of your development. Our technology is truly beyond your comprehension," he explained apologetically. "No offense."

"None taken. Can you explain it in terms I can grasp?" Kieran gamely suggested.

"The Kieran Thompson who replaced you—I’ll call her Kieran2, for now—was our objective. We use a sophisticated computer system to plot spatial coordinates and probable outcomes of each variable involved in our dimensional matrix. It’s called LeapFrog. LeapFrog is almost never wrong—it is accurate within billionths of a percentage. But when you’re dealing with infinite dimensions and variables, billionths of a percentage can seem like a glaring amount. LeapFrog made a miscalculation. While we were trying to apprehend Kieran2, Kieran3 came into our sensor range. We had to choose. Grab Kieran2, and let Kieran3 go on, which would have annihilated her world and one other, or grab Kieran3 and you, and still prevent any dimensional cancellation. So although it’s a total violation of procedure, we entered your spatial coordinates and yanked you out before Kieran2 could show up and spoil the party. We also apprehended Kieran3."

Kieran tried her best to follow his explanation. "So you preserved Kieran2’s world, and mine, as well as the world of Kieran3 and wherever she would have ended up going?"

"Exactly."

Kieran puzzled over it. "But if you took your ship into my spatial coordinates with all these Kierans on board, wouldn’t that have caused the annihilation of all our worlds?"

Doke nodded. "Yes, but we didn’t take the Parallax. We sent a recon team to get you, and the Parallax went after Kieran3. We just missed the window to get a recon team to Kieran2, in fact, or we’d have had you all. No technology is perfect," he sighed wistfully.

Kieran considered again. "So how can I be safely on the Parallax with all these duplicates of myself, without destroying our worlds?"

Doke smiled indulgently. "That’s two things you’ve asked me to explain," he pointed out amiably, "not one. But you’re pretty smart. Most of our guests don’t have the insight to even ask that one," he allowed. "Our technology allows us to perpetuate an interdimensional corridor. As long as we keep it open, and the ship is inside it, there is no danger of mutual annihilation."

"What if the corridor collapses?" Kieran was amazed by it all.

Doke laughed. "Then we’re all screwed."

Kieran marveled at his explanation. "So Feynman was right about the cancellation of histories?"

"Yes, and no. And we’re getting into areas of inquiry that are classified, I’m afraid, Kieran. Now let me ask you a question." She nodded assent. "How is it that you’re not perfectly disconcerted by all of this? Most of our passengers are so overwhelmed by the mere prospect of duplicate selves that they never get to the stage of wanting to understand the mechanics of it."

Kieran shrugged. "I don’t know. I guess I’ve always been naturally inquisitive. It’s been a hoot talking to all of these versions of me. I mean, I’ve seen so many possibilities for my life! Some of them hold higher ranks than I do, some of them are married to people I barely know, some have kids—but they’re all essentially me. I could be or do anything I want. My mother always told me that, and I thought she was full of crap, but it’s really true."

Doke regarded her with genuine admiration. "That’s a positive way to look at it. A lot of our guests see it just the opposite—like a vision of what they’ve missed."

"I suppose I could look at it that way. I mean that’s a valid perspective, I suppose, but it just seems like such an amazing thing to me, such an epiphany, to see all the opportunities I’ve never considered. I think it’s exhilarating," she enthused, grinning ear to ear.

"Too bad you aren’t from my spatial coordinates," he groused good-naturedly. "I could use someone like you on my crew to help us with the passengers who can’t seem to see the positive side of any of this. The psychological strain on them is enormous. You might be able to get them to see it differently."

"Maybe you can talk one of us into staying," she joked. Then more seriously she added, "I can think of one who isn’t real happy in her timeline. She’d probably jump at the chance to stay here."

Doke considered. "That’s an intriguing concept. It never occurred to me. I wonder what Admiral Dar would say about that?"

Kieran patted his hand companionably. "If she’s anything like the Admirals I’ve known, she’d probably tell you to pound sand up your ass," she laughed.

"She tells me that almost daily, anyway," he agreed, laughing.

_____________

"Captain Thompson to the bridge," Chakotay hailed his Captain, who had turned command over to him several days before.

"Thompson here. I gave you the ship, Commander. I asked not to be disturbed," her voice was flat and cold. Kathryn sat in the darkness of her ready room, a mylar blanket drawn around her shoulders, staring out at the starfield. She watched as Voyager dropped out of warp.

"Captain, we detected a rift forming up ahead, and there is a shuttle approaching. It’s the Delta Flyer," Chakotay reported.

Kathryn Janeway-Thompson sat up straight in her chair. "OUR Delta Flyer, Commander?"

"We won’t know until we intercept. We’re all hoping, Kathryn," he said sincerely.

"On my way," she replied. "Computer, lights," she barked, stopping to examine herself in the ensuite mirror. "God, I look like hell. But then, what are the odds that Kieran…" Thompson trailed off, unable to complete the thought.

As she strode onto the bridge, the signal came. "We’re being hailed," Harry announced.

"On screen, Ensign," Kathryn ordered. Her stance became one of defiance, though she was unconscious of it, as if to brace herself for the shock of yet another Kieran Thompson who might not share their history.

"This is Lieutenant Kieran Janeway-Thompson, requesting permission to dock, Captain."

The Captain resisted the urge to clap her hand over her mouth, swallowed the rush of emotions that tore through her, and nodded mutely. "Granted," she finally managed. She turned to Chakotay, to tell him he had the bridge, but the words wouldn’t come out.

"Better hurry, Captain," he told her gently. "She’s in the shuttle bay already."

Kathryn darted for the turbolift and ran to the shuttle bay, where Kieran was just stepping out of the Delta Flyer. They spotted each other and moved wordlessly into each other’s arms, the tall Counselor’s arms firmly around the diminutive Captain’s shoulders. Clinging tightly, Kathryn breathed in the scent of her beloved partner, tightened her embrace around the tiny waist, and stole a glance at the woman cradling her. It suddenly dawned on her that this could be some Kieran other than her own.

Sensing her wife’s apprehension, Kieran Janeway held out her hand. "It’s me, Kat," she displayed her wedding ring. "I had the rings made from a Hemet stone I bought on Qian."

"What’s your favorite cake?" Janeway asked, testing her.

"Coconut. Yours is coffee cake."

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" Janeway persisted.

"Can’t stand the stuff," Kieran replied.

"What was the last thing we did before your pilot’s exam?" Kathryn met her gaze more certainly.

"We made love. And then we showered together and made love again," Kieran replied huskily.

Satisfied that she was indeed with her wife, Kathryn relaxed. "Oh, I’ve missed you, Kato," she broke down then.

"And I’ve missed you, Kat. I love you so much. God, I thought I’d never see you again," she completely lost control of her own emotions and let the tears come.

Standing in the shuttle bay of the USS Voyager, Kieran Janeway-Thompson and Kathryn Janeway-Thompson held one another, bonding through grief and great joy, as they had bonded long ago in marriage, and would bond again throughout their lives in love and companionship.

"I’m exhausted," Kathryn murmured. "Can we go home?"

"Home," Kieran echoed with abject longing in her voice. "Let’s go home."

____________

Rachel McVicker awoke with a start, suddenly aware of a long, lean body pressing against hers beneath the sheet. She assumed she was dreaming, but an insistent nuzzle against her neck convinced her otherwise.

"KT?" she whispered in the darkness, hoping she would not wake up. "How?"

Kieran kissed her, lingering over the delicate lips, memorizing the feel of them against her own. "It’s a long story, Rach. God, I’m glad to be home," she buried her face in Rachel’s shimmering black hair, kissing the silken tresses repeatedly.

Rachel grabbed her and squeezed her for all she was worth. "I thought I’d lost you. I was ready to give up on you! Where the hell have you been?"

Kieran eased them both upright, slid against the headboard of the bed, arranged the pillows behind her and took Rachel in her arms. "It seems that in another dimension, another Kieran Thompson was taking a pilot’s exam," she began the tale, reveling in the feeling of the gorgeous young Ensign in her embrace. "She is a much pushier Kieran Thompson than I am," she accused, "and she tells me that I am lazy and not living up to my potential in the exobio lab," she chuckled, remembering the lecture she had received from one of her duplicate selves. "She got caught in a spatial rift," she continued, though her mind was turning over the lecture in her head. In the morning, I’ll find Captain Janeway, and I’ll tell her she needs a Ship’s Counselor. I’ll tell her I can fill the post and she will believe me. She will tell me to work with Naomi Wildman. And Naomi and I will become friends. And the Captain will become a friend, too. "She ended up here, with you," she continued, Rachel smiling up at her, snuggled in her arms. And I will marry you, Rachel McVicker. Just as we planned.

______________

Kathryn Janeway paced the length of her ready room. Her spouse sat motionless on the sofa, watching her wife pace. "I don’t know how to tell her Seven. How am I supposed to break it to her?" Janeway threw her hands up in the air in defeat.

Seven smiled gently. "You are the Captain. You will find the appropriate words."

Kathryn shook her head. "Any way I say it, it’s going to sound like I’m abandoning my best friend, and B'Elanna’s mate. And Naomi will never forgive me, let alone B'Elanna," she said miserably as she resumed pacing in silence.

"It has been two months, Kathryn. It is the opinion of everyone on board except Naomi and B'Elanna that Kieran is gone, and will not be coming back. There is no shame in accepting that. We cannot remain here any longer. It is becoming a matter of survival."

"But by insuring our survival, am I depriving Kieran of hers?" Janeway agonized over the choice. "What if she comes back to us, and we’re not here?"

Seven looked at her wife with an imploring expression. "The chances of that are almost nonexistent. And Kathryn, you know Kieran. If she were here, she would tell you to protect Katie and B'Elanna above all else, most assuredly above her own well being."

Janeway nodded. "I know. She’d be furious that I’ve sat here waiting this long. She’d have had me on the carpet daily for the last two weeks," Kathryn admitted with a pained grin. "This is the worst part of being in command. I feel like I’m effectively condemning her to death by leaving this sector. You know I would never do that, don’t you?"

Seven slipped off of the sofa and went to her beloved. "Darling, you don’t have to convince me. And you don’t have to justify this to anyone. It is your duty to preserve Voyager and her crew, and if Kieran were here she would tell you so. We cannot delay any longer. Naomi will be upset, but she will adapt. B'Elanna has to know this decision is coming, as well. Tell her, Kathryn, tell her now. It is necessary."

Kathryn gazed up at her beloved Borg with a grateful smile. "I couldn’t do this without you, you know."

Seven shook her head. "Yes you could. And you would. You are the Captain. It is what you do." Seven stooped to kiss Janeway tenderly. "Hail her, Kathryn. Get it over with."

Kathryn stepped out of Seven’s arms, squared her shoulders, and slapped her comm badge. "Janeway to Torres."

"Torres here," came the hollow reply.

"B'Elanna, I need to see you in my ready room immediately," Kathryn tried to keep her voice calm.

"Understood," B'Elanna replied, heading for the bridge.

When B'Elanna arrived, she already knew what Janeway was going to say. She had been anticipating this discussion for quite some time, and she knew it was killing Janeway to have to tell B'Elanna the ship was leaving. "You wanted to see me Captain?"

Janeway stood staring out the window of her ready room, back to the door. She turned to face B'Elanna. "Yes, Lieutenant. I needed to tell you—" she began, but hesitated.

"You wanted to tell me Voyager needs to leave this area and get on with the journey to the Alpha Quadrant," B'Elanna finished for her.

Janeway nodded slowly. "I’m so sorry, B'Elanna—"

"It’s okay," B'Elanna reassured her. "I know you waited as long as you could. I appreciate that. I also know you can’t keep waiting," she said bravely, though her jaw trembled with emotion. "And Kieran," she stumbled over the name, felt it catch in her throat, "Kieran would want us to go, Kathryn. The ship is low on supplies, low on dilithium, and morale is dwindling." B'Elanna set her jaw, which threatened to betray her. "It’s time, Captain." Then not able to look Janeway in the eye, she asked "Have you told Naomi?"

Janeway bit her lip, trying not to cry. "No. I’m afraid she won’t be as understanding as you, though."

"I’ll tell her," Seven volunteered.

"No," Janeway smiled gratefully, but refused. "It’s my job. It was my decision. B'Elanna, you know I’d keep us here forever, if I could."

B'Elanna nodded. "I know that, Kathryn. Please, don’t do this to yourself. I understand. I know you’ve done your best," she breathed shakily. "Now if there’s nothing more—"

"No, you’re dismissed," Janeway stared across the room at the Chief Engineer. She wanted to hug B'Elanna but she knew if she closed that distance between them, they would both break down and cry. Janeway reigned in her jagged emotions, watched B'Elanna leave the ready room, and turned back to the starfield. Seven of Nine wrapped her arms around the Captain from behind, letting Kathryn rest against her. Janeway put her hands over the long arms that encircled her chest.

"We’ll get through this, Kathryn," was all Seven said.

_________

Kathryn Janeway had broken the news as gently as she could to her daughter, but Naomi was having none of that. She refused to believe Kieran was never coming back, and she was furious with Kathryn for not having the same faith.

"But K-Mom, if we leave and Kieran does come back, she won’t be able to find us," Naomi argued heatedly, gesticulating wildly. "How can you do that to her? She’s your friend!"

Kathryn winced. "Yes, honey, she is my friend. I love her just as much as you do. And this is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make, but I’m the Captain, first and foremost. I don’t have the luxury of doing what my heart tells me to do. I have to do what is best for the entire crew."

"Even if it means turning your back on your closest friend?" she half shouted. "Would you be leaving if it were Seven of Nine who is missing?" she asked pointedly. "Or if it were me?"

Kathryn cursed inwardly at the moisture gathering in her eyes, set her jaw, and nodded. "Yes I would. It has to be done, Naomi, and I want you to understand why."

For all her maturity, Naomi was, after all, only nine, and feeling totally helpless. She lashed out at Kathryn with all her emotional might. "I don’t understand why, and I never will. What you’re doing is just plain wrong. Nothing you say can change that," she crossed her arms in defiance. "Kieran would never do this to you. She’d never give up on you. She’s not a quitter, like you are," Naomi accused, unable to stand the sight of her mother a second longer. She ran out of their quarters, not really knowing where she was going.

"I will talk to her," Seven offered, following in her wake.

"No, let her go, Seven. She’s just angry and confused, and she’ll come to terms with it. I understand how she feels, because frankly, I don’t like me very much right now either," Kathryn admitted, the self-loathing evident in her face.

Seven of Nine’s temper flared. "This is not about you, Kathryn," she was quick to point out. "It isn’t your fault, and I will not have you blaming yourself for this," she added sternly, but took Kathryn into her arms tenderly. "Naomi is just hurting because Kieran is gone. She’s trying to ease that hurt by hurting you."

Kathryn hid her face in Seven’s shoulder, arms twining around the Borg’s back. "You’re getting to be quite the expert at child psychology, my love," she commented.

Seven squeezed Kathryn tightly. "I learned a few things from Kieran. And I am very observant. Naomi will not stay angry with you, though she is taking it out on you now. She is just one small girl, trying to conquer more emotion than her tiny body can hold. Be patient with her, and with yourself. When she has calmed down, I will speak with her. We will prevail in this Kathryn, because we must. And your decision to leave is absolutely correct."

Kathryn sighed heavily. "I know it is. I just wish I didn’t feel so conflicted over it. Damn her, anyway, Seven, if she were here I could go talk to her and she’d make me feel better about it. I’m just so—so—"

"Angry at her," Seven supplied the correct words. "Say it Kathryn. You are angry at Kieran for not being here," she held the auburn haired woman at arm’s length, watching the frustration playing across her face.

"Yes, goddamn it, I’m angry with her. I know it’s ludicrous—hell, it’s not like she asked for this to happen, but I’m livid! I need her here. I depended on her! And it’s killing B'Elanna, not to mention Naomi," she turned away, starting to pace in agitation.

Seven folded her hands behind her back. "No, Kathryn," she disagreed. "It’s killing you. And that is precisely why you are angry. Because you love her, and you miss her. And you haven’t figured out how to fill the hole in your heart that she once filled."

Kathryn wheeled on her wife as if she’d been shot. "I—I—oh, God, Seven," she moved back into the Borg’s embrace. "It hurts," she whispered, her heart convulsing in her chest.

"I know," Seven soothed her. "I miss her too. And I can only imagine what B'Elanna must be feeling. Perhaps," she swallowed her own raw emotions, "we all need to attain some closure for this. We should ask B'Elanna about holding a memorial service."

Kathryn clung more desperately to Seven. "I’d have to preside, as Captain. I don’t think I could get through it without completely losing my composure, Seven. It’s my duty, but I don’t think I’m capable of performing it." Kathryn sank into Seven’s hug. "That’s why I haven’t mentioned it to B'Elanna. God, I’m a pathetic coward," she laughed bitterly.

Seven stroked her hair, careful not to muss it. "No one would expect you to be composed, darling. In fact, no one would want you to be. You taught me to embrace my humanity, and you owe yourself the same freedom. Kieran was part of our family. Your sorrow is a natural consequence of losing her, and you should not try to hide it."

Kathryn made a small sound of acquiescence. "I suppose not. But I have a certain image to uphold. I can’t fall apart in front of my crew."

"I don’t suppose either of us can afford to fall apart. We will have our hands full with Naomi and B'Elanna," Seven wisely noted.

Kathryn hugged Seven once more. "You’re my rock, Seven. Don’t you ever run off through some spatial rift," she murmured.

Seven kissed her softly, lingering over the sensation. Despite great sadness, she felt a spark of arousal anytime Kathryn’s lips met her own. "You will not get rid of me so easily," she promised.

____________

Naomi Wildman finally stopped running when she reached the gymnasium. When she was younger, Kieran used to take her to the arboretum, or to the holodeck to play with Trevis and Flotter. In the last year, they had spent much more time here, playing basketball. Kieran was teaching Naomi the game, and was convinced that Naomi would someday be tall and willowy enough to play the small forward position. Naomi continued to practice, even now that Kieran was gone, hoping that when the good natured Counselor returned, she might be able to beat her at a game of horse or twenty-one.

Now Naomi dribbled the ball absently, not really remembering to shoot. Her head was filled with unkind thoughts about Kathryn Janeway, mentally taking the Captain to task for the command decision to leave the area. Naomi practiced her free throws, which had improved considerably since she had been recruited to play on Kieran’s team. She didn’t notice Rachel McVicker, who had just exited the locker room.

Rachel stopped at the other end of the floor, watching Naomi shoot. Two bounces. Catch the ball. Deep breath. Arms raised. Elbow in. Release. Rebound. Two bounces. Catch the ball. Deep breath. Arms raised. Elbow in. Release. Swish. Rachel watched for several minutes, smiling at the accuracy of Naomi’s form, if not her results, and thought about how pleased Kieran would be at the improvement in Naomi’s shot. She thought about the clever Lieutenant with the light brown hair and the doe-soft eyes, her lilting laugh and the way she devoured life with gusto. Intramural basketball just hadn’t been the same without Kieran. If I’m missing her, Naomi must be sick inside. They were so close. And Kieran was the one who helped her get over losing her mother. It’s not fair that she had to lose Kieran too, even if she does have Seven and the Captain.

"Hey, Na," Rachel jogged up as if she had just noticed the Ktarian. "Nice shooting. Your form is looking great."

Naomi smiled. "Thanks. Kieran—" she stopped herself midsentence, silenced by the knifing pain that shot through her at the mention of her missing friend’s name. "She was helping me work on it, before she got lost in the rift."

"She’s a great coach," Rachel praised Naomi’s hero. "It shows in your progress. Want to play horse?"

Naomi shrugged. "I guess so. How are things in Astrometrics?"

"Just fine, thanks. I really like working for Seven. She’s an amazing woman," Rachel took a warm-up shot.

Naomi nodded. "She’s so smart, it’s frightening," she joked. "But I love having her around to help with my homework," she added, thinking of the numerous calculus problems Seven had assisted her in solving. "I didn’t think I was ever going to understand Hawking’s theorem, but Seven explained it just right, so it made sense to me."

Rachel whistled appreciatively. "You’re how old? Nine? And you’re studying Hawking?"

Naomi sunk a 12 footer. "Yeah. I’ve been working with B'Elanna in Engineering, too. I want to be her second in command someday." She retrieved the ball and passed it to Rachel.

Rachel took the same shot and missed. "H. Nice one, Na." Then as Naomi chose her next location to shoot from, she asked "Why second in command? Why not Chief Engineer?"

Naomi looked at her as if she’d asked a truly asinine question. "That’s B'Elanna’s job. I don’t want her job. Oh, I’d like to be as good as she is, but I want to always have her to go to, when I can’t figure things out myself. She’s the best engineer in Starfleet," she declared, though she had no one to compare her to. Naomi took a shot from the baseline, ten feet out, and drilled it.

"I think you’re hustling me, kiddo," Rachel accused, grinning. She took the same shot and missed. "H-O. How is B'Elanna doing, now that Kieran is gone?"

Naomi flinched, but took the ball and missed a lay up. "Dang. I can’t quite get the timing right for that," she noted, ignoring Rachel’s inquiry.

Rachel decided to let it go. "It’s like this," she demonstrated. "Step, dribble. Step, dribble. Right leg and arm up at the same time and the ball rolls off your fingertips."

"You make it look so easy," Naomi breathed with respect. "Did you know Kieran can slam dunk the ball?"

Rachel shook her head. "No way. She can’t."

"Way," Naomi insisted. "I’ve seen her. She can’t do it all the time, but she can," she reported proudly. "She has major hops."

Rachel didn’t bother to tell Naomi that she’d seen Kieran slam it home on several occasions. She wanted the little girl to talk about the missing Counselor. "You’re not yanking my chain, Wildman?"

"Nope, really. Where do you think Noah learned how to do it? And Seven? Kieran taught Seven the whole game. Seven had never even heard of basketball. But Kieran got her playing, and Seven is really good now. Kieran says Seven has ‘the total package’."

"What else does Kieran say?" Rachel had manipulated the conversation exactly where she wanted it to be.

Naomi happily spent the afternoon reminiscing about her tall friend, which was about the most therapeutic thing she could have done. She didn’t notice that the ship had gone to warp, and that they had long since left the coordinates where Kieran had disappeared. After almost two hours of shooting baskets and talking about the Counselor, Naomi finally got around to what was really on her mind.

"You know, K-Mom—that’s the Captain," she explained, "has decided to leave. Do you believe it? Kieran could come back anytime, and we’re just going to leave, like she never even existed."

Rachel nodded. "I heard it was probably coming. But Naomi, we’re low on supplies, and we can’t just wait forever, much as we all want to. You understand that, don’t you?" Rachel gentled her tone.

"I only know that someone I love—someone K-Mom supposedly loves—is missing, and we’re going to abandon her. Like getting to the stinking Alpha Quadrant is so damned important," she spat the words.

Rachel considered her reply carefully. "It’s not the Alpha Quadrant that’s so damned important, Na. It’s all of us surviving that’s important. That’s the Captain’s first priority. Don’t you think she wants to keep waiting every bit as much as you do? My God, Naomi, she is as loyal and determined as a person can possibly be. When you ran away from home, you should have seen her. She was torn up, kiddo, completely devastated. But she was damn well going to find you, and there was no way she was going to give up. You have to know that if she is moving on without Kieran, it’s because she has no other choice."

"There’s always another choice," Naomi stubbornly contended.

Rachel patted her shoulder. "Should we stay until we lose power for the warp drive? Because that’s going to happen soon. And without warp, we can’t find food or medical supplies. And without the warp engines, a lot of systems go offline, because they’re interdependent. You’ve been working with Lieutenant Torres, so you know that."

Naomi nodded. "I guess. But Kieran is K-Mom’s best friend."

"Tell me something. Would Kieran want to let baby Gretchen or Katie starve, if it meant Kieran could be back on board Voyager?"

"Of course not. Kieran is never selfish like that," Naomi bristled.

"Would you want them to starve, just to have Kieran back?" Rachel asked pointedly.

"I—no, that’s ridiculous," Naomi could see where the analogy was headed.

"Because that would be selfish of you, wouldn’t it? Captain Janeway is doing what has to be done, honey, as much as she wishes she could keep waiting for Kieran to come home. I imagine the decision is eating at her terribly, too. She tends to be extremely critical of herself, wouldn’t you agree?"

Naomi nodded reluctantly. "She’s her own worst enemy that way," she confided. "And I said horrible things to her," she shamefully remembered. She hung her head. "I’m a rotten daughter. She needed me to understand and support her, and I told her off. Kieran would be so pissed at me, right now."

Rachel chuckled softly. "I doubt that, Naomi. Kieran loved you unconditionally, and I can’t imagine her being mad at you. She always said such wonderful things about you."

Naomi looked up hopefully. "She did? Like what?"

"She told me once that she completely admires you, because you’re smart and tolerant and genuine. And when you ran away, she was on a search party with Noah, and she talked about you nonstop—about how sorry she was for not being more attentive about your problems, about how she would never forgive herself if anything happened to you, and how much she loved you and would just give anything to find you."

Naomi bit her lip. "She said all that?"

Rachel nodded. "She bragged about you all the time, Naomi. She was so proud of you, of everything you’ve accomplished, and of the person you’ve become. She told Noah that you were like her personal ray of sunshine—whenever the world seemed dark or gloomy, she’d spend time with you, and it would put it all back in perspective again. She relied on you for that, Naomi, and you never let her down. I know she would want to thank you for it."

"I didn’t know that. Thanks for telling me," she said hoarsely. "I miss her so much," she hugged herself, trying not to cry.

"I miss her too, Na," Rachel agreed, putting a comforting arm around the wiry youngster. "But you know, she was always so funny and cheerful, I don’t think she’d want us to be so sad about her being gone. Do you?"

Naomi shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "She’d want us to remember the fun things we did, and the times we laughed. So I think I will remember her the way she looked when Katie was born. Like she was just bursting at the seams with joy. Seeing her smile like that made me smile, too, and we all just kept smiling ‘til our faces hurt," she recalled.

"And I’ll remember her on her wedding day," Rachel added, "She looked so serene and stalwart in her Klingon garb, and so happy."

Seven of Nine had crept into the gym silently, overhearing the tail end of the conversation. "I shall remember her on our last vacation, when she took you swimming, Naomi. Remember how she had you standing on her shoulders and diving off of them?"

Naomi nodded. Seven continued, "I think she looked fully in her element, that day—tan, strong, laughing, and delighted that Kathryn and I had mended our differences." Seven hugged Naomi. "I think you should come home. You hurt Kathryn’s feelings very badly, this afternoon."

"I know. I didn’t mean to. I’ll apologize to her. I’m sorry, Seven," she gazed up at the towering Borg.

"I know you are. You must remember, Naomi, part of serving aboard a Starfleet vessel is trusting in your Captain’s decisions. We may not always like the substance, but we must follow proper form. It is not an easy lesson," she added honestly, remembering how she herself had chafed under the hierarchical structure.

"Understood," Naomi slipped her hand into Seven’s. "Let’s go home. I want to make this up to K-Mom."

_______________

Dr. Malea Thomas was perplexed. Spatial psychosis, if caught early enough, should be simple enough to treat, and usually, without residual mental problems. She ran a hand through her short, stubbly hair, looking over the data on Kieran Thompson-Torres’ recovery.

"Why isn’t this working?" she muttered, shoving the PADD away and launching herself out of her seat. "She still has symptoms that should have resolved long ago."

Captain Doke watched his Chief Medical Officer talking to herself, trying to work through the confounding information. "You’ll get a handle on it, Malea, so stop kicking yourself."

Malea groaned in disgust. "It’s like she’s fighting it, Joe. I swear, she is resistant to the therapy. I’m convinced there’s something about that last incursion, something traumatic that happened that’s keeping her from getting better. But she won’t talk about it. And whenever I bring it up, she just withdraws and the symptoms intensify."

"We can’t keep her here forever," Doke pointed out logically. "At some point, we are going to have to insert her in the right spatial plane and get on with our mission."

Malea sighed. "I really think we need to send a probe, Joe. I need to know what happened to her so I can treat her properly."

Doke frowned. "It’s dangerous, and you know it. We’d be risking an alteration of the timeline."

"It’s not without precedent," she argued. "And I’m not getting anywhere with her. Her neurochemical transmitters are off the scale, most of the time—dopamine is flooding her synapses. Acetylcholine is at dangerous levels. And the serotonin uptake is all whacked. She’s got enough adrenaline in her system to fuel an army of Jem'Hadar without the ‘white’. I can’t keep pumping her full of inhibitors if whatever she’s remembering just undoes the treatment," she gestured passionately. "Help me out, Joe. I’ve never lost a patient yet, and I don’t want this one to be the first."

Doke blanched. "She’s that bad? I was thinking we could just send her back to Voyager and let her people worry about it."

"Nothing doing, Captain," Malea insisted. "They aren’t equipped in that dimension to treat her. All they could do is lock her up in a padded room. And then what would be the point of all we’ve tried to do here?"

Doke scowled. "Aw, damn it, Malea. I hate it when you make sense," he growled at her. "I’ll launch the probe. But if it fucks up another timeline, I’ll have your heiney."

Malea grinned smartly. "Dar might have something to say about that, Joe."

Joe grinned back. "Yeah, she would. She’d bust my balls just for the challenge."

"Not for the challenge, Joe. For her collection," Malea quirked an eyebrow.

Doke scowled again. "Just my luck, you’d be lovers with my CO. How the hell did you ever land an Admiral?"

Malea waggled her eyebrows. "I have talents untold," she quipped.

"I’ll hail you when the telemetry starts to come in," he excused himself. "I gotta go before it gets too deep in here."

____________

Rachel McVicker was a nervous wreck waiting for Kieran to come home. The two lovers were dining with Captain Janeway that evening, and Rachel could not decide for the life of her what to wear. She wasn’t sure what was more distressing: having dinner with Janeway, or having dinner with Seven of Nine. The Ensign had been smitten with the Borg Astrometrics head since the day she began working there. And Kieran was infuriatingly cool and collected about the prospect of dinner with the Commanding Officer. Rachel wanted to choke her.

She finally settled on the black pleated pants and the cream colored silk blouse. Kieran was especially fond of that outfit, possibly because Rachel had worn it on one of their first dates. Kieran would characteristically sail into their quarters five minutes before they needed to arrive, grab the first thing she found, and manage to look exquisite, anyway. Rachel found that equally infuriating.

If I weren’t crazy in love with her, I’d kill her, Rachel decided, laughing. I can’t believe Janeway invited her to dinner. I mean, hell, I know Seven personally, and Janeway has never spoken to me. And all that babbling Kieran was doing over Naomi Wildman—what was that about? Whatever happened to her in that other dimension, she is a different woman now. I hope her feelings for me haven’t changed, because it seems like everything else has. She is so self-assured now, so much more willing to put her energy out there for people. I didn’t think I could be any more attracted to her than I already was, but I was wrong. She’s suddenly just so charismatic, it’s bizarre.

"Hi honey, I’m home," Kieran rushed through the entrance of their newly shared quarters, gathered Rachel up in a sweeping hug, and kissed her soundly. "You look terrific," she smiled approvingly at her gorgeous lover. "Even Seven can’t hold a candle to you."

Rachel laughed lightly, loving Kieran’s compliments. "What’s gotten into you lately?" she teased. "You must have really missed me."

Kieran kissed her forehead. "I did. Terribly. And I want to make sure you never feel taken for granted, because I think I was making you feel that way before. Was I?" Kieran peered down into shimmering green eyes, needing an honest reply.

Rachel gazed up at her, nodding slowly. "Sometimes, yes. But as you can see, it didn’t make me angry enough to leave."

Kieran kissed her softly. "Lucky for me, Rach. I think things are going to get really interesting for us, and very soon. You’re going to be surprised at how quickly things are going to improve."

Rachel gave her a quizzical look. "I don’t know why, but I believe you. You’re so different, honey, I don’t know what they did to you, but I hope this new attitude of yours is permanent."

Kieran chuckled. "I look into my crystal ball, and I see fair weather coming. Not just for you and I, but for Voyager, for Naomi Wildman, for Captain Janeway—for us all."

"Did you have some sort of vision—a religious epiphany or something, KT?" she demanded.

"You might say that," Kieran agreed. "I caught a glimpse of the future. That’s all."

"Share it with me," Rachel encouraged her. "Tell me something that’s going to happen."

Kieran hugged her. "I’m going to be promoted to Lieutenant, for starters."

Rachel squealed. "When?" she shook Kieran’s shoulders.

"Most likely, tonight," Kieran whispered, as if someone might overhear.

Rachel regarded her skeptically. "You’re ribbing me. Damn you, Kieran," she laughed, smacking her lover’s buttocks. "I was buying it, too."

Kieran grinned knowingly. "I’m not kidding," she said too softly for Rachel to hear as she walked into the bedroom. Then more loudly, as she picked her outfit for the evening, she called back to the living room, "I can predict one thing for certain, Rach."

Rachel stuck her head in the door. "And what is that, oh, clairvoyant one," she smarted.

Kieran grabbed her and pulled her in close. "I’m going to marry you. That is, if you still want me."

"Of course I do," Rachel lay her hands on Kieran’s chest, looking up into the most loving brown eyes she had ever seen. Then more playfully, she added "But only if you get the promotion."

Kieran didn’t disappoint her.

____________

"It’s been over two months, B'Elanna, but I’ll respect your wishes," Kathryn advised the mournful Klingon. "If you’re not ready, then we don’t have to do anything."

B'Elanna hugged her knees tightly to her chest, ensconced upon Kathryn’s couch. "You’re right, I know. It’s time. I just can’t imagine saying goodbye to her."

"Neither can I, but Seven thought it would give us all some closure," Janeway tried to force down the lump in her throat. "She brought it up weeks ago, and I just wasn’t ready to broach the topic with you. But I do want to honor Kieran, and a memorial service is the best way I know how."

B'Elanna nodded mutely, her face weary and looking much older than her years.

"Did Kieran have any particular religious beliefs that we should consider?"

B'Elanna snorted. "Kieran? Lord, she hates organized religion. She believes—believed," B'Elanna corrected herself, "that the creative energy that is responsible for us is in all things, animate and inanimate, and that it isn’t consciously aware of us or meddling in our affairs. I think there’s a name for her beliefs but I don’t know what it is."

Kathryn nodded. "It’s similar to animism. There are no affiliated burial or funereal rites that you know of?"

"No," B'Elanna took a ragged breath. "You knew her Kathryn. She was a straightforward, happy person who took things at face value. She loved fiercely, she lived fiercely, and I can only hope, she died fiercely. She had the heart of a warrior. And she will always hold mine."

Kathryn took her hand. "I miss her every day, B'Elanna. I think of her so often, I can’t even tell you."

"Wherever she is, she misses you too. Don’t doubt that for an instant," B'Elanna smiled. "I don’t know how expressive she was with you, but she adored you, Kathryn. She wouldn’t even let me make fun of you in jest, she was so protective of you. Yet she knew your humanness, your failings. She just happened to love you in spite of them, and that love never wavered. Not even when she was so angry with you she could bite nails in half."

Kathryn laughed quietly. "I must have tried her patience on a number of occasions. God, I don’t know how I can do this without her," she wiped her eyes. "She could always make me see reason when no one else could. She knew exactly how to handle me, without ever letting me catch on that I was being ‘handled’. Do you know what I mean?"

"Absolutely. She did it with a conscious calculation that amused me to no end," B'Elanna confided. "She would tell me step by step how she was going to deal with you, when there was a conflict. Damned if it didn’t usually work, too," she grinned, remembering. "I just wish Katie could have known her. God, she loved that little girl. It breaks my heart to think she’ll never know how wonderful Kieran was."

"We’ll just have to work extra hard at keeping her memory alive, and we’ll tell Katie all about her other mother."

__________________

Kathryn Janeway looked over the data before her with a painful tightness in her throat. "Good heavens, Chakotay, how many of the crew signed this petition?"

The dark skinned man flashed pearly white teeth. "One hundred thirty-seven. You’ll be the 138^th, Captain. Kieran was an extraordinary woman, and this crew recognized that. Everyone wants to do something to memorialize her."

"I have to ask B'Elanna first, of course. But I’m sure she’ll agree, and I’m sure she’ll be touched. This is outstanding, Commander," she lay a grateful hand on his forearm. "Whose idea was this, anyway?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Mine, but Tom Paris helped flesh it out. We were drinking together at Sandrine’s the other night, and reminiscing about Kieran, and this just came of it."

Kathryn glanced at the data again. "This is perfect. Kieran would have gotten a kick out of this, I’m sure." She was mildly surprised to hear that Tom Paris would reminisce about the Counselor, considering Kieran had been the reason B'Elanna had left him, but she knew that Tom and Kieran had settled some of their differences when Tom was helping Kieran prepare for her pilot’s exam.

Chakotay smiled indulgently at the auburn haired woman, who had taken the loss of the Counselor harder than probably anyone else. Chakotay suspected even B'Elanna was dealing with it better than Janeway. "Wait ‘til you see the dedication plaque. It’s going to be truly worthy of her."

Janeway sighed and handed him the petition. "I have to ask, although I’m sure you’re sick of it. Any hits on the beacon?" She referred to a stationary beacon she had ordered placed at the coordinates where Kieran disappeared. It contained a message with their flight path, and instructions for tripping the signal that would tell Voyager Kieran had come back to their dimension.

He shook his head. "No. I’m sorry. But it will keep transmitting for weeks, and Seven has figured out a way to stay linked to it, just in case."

"I suppose it’s foolish of me to keep hoping, but part of me just can’t believe she’s really not coming home," Janeway admitted. "I’m glad we decided not to tell Naomi about it, though, because I wouldn’t want to keep her hopes up."

"How’s she doing?" Chakotay had always adored the little Ktarian.

"Not very well, I’m afraid. She was terribly attached to Kieran, and although she claims she understands why we left the coordinates of the rift, I think that decision really rocked her to the foundation. She looks at me now, and I see a hint of distrust that wasn’t ever there before."

"She’ll get over it, Kathryn. But it’s hard enough for an adult to accept that sort of thing, even one born and bred to Starfleet. I can’t imagine what she must think, let alone feel. Just keep loving her, and it will work itself out."

Kathryn nodded, but doubted it. "Let me just run this past B'Elanna. Then will you let the crew know I’ve approved this petition?"

"Absolutely. I’ll get started on the preparations for the dedication."

"Excellent. Dismissed, Commander," she smiled warmly at him.

____________

The plaque was placed outside the entrance to the gymnasium with no small amount of ceremony. Kathryn Janeway had been pleased at the suggestion to dedicate the gym to Kieran’s memory, and was especially gratified that the suggestion had come from Chakotay and Tom Paris. Kathryn had been trying to think of a way to honor Kieran, and this seemed the perfect tribute, given that Kieran was a jock, through and through.

The plaque had a picture of the lanky Counselor that had been taken from the computer’s archives, a shot of her from her Academy days when she took the Academy basketball team to the National Championship against Tennessee. A second more recent picture of Kieran in dress uniform bordered the nameplate which read "Kieran Thompson-Torres Memorial Gymnasium", and a short biography of the Counselor’s life followed.

The crew had assembled for the dedication of the facility, and a bright red ribbon was draped across the doors. B’Elanna cut the ribbon to officially dedicate the gym.

"You all knew Kieran, and you know she loved to play as much as any child ever has. She started the intramural league on the ship, and she thoroughly enjoyed playing with us all. Let’s keep the league going, because she would have loved knowing that we did. And whenever you enter these doors, remember her. She loved this ship, and she loved this crew, and she loved life. And athletic competition was a big part of the life she loved. She’d be thrilled to know that she left that love of competition as a legacy to all of us," B'Elanna smiled upon the assemblage. "Thank you for this dedication, all of you. It means a great deal to me."

Janeway nodded to the assembled crew. "For those of you who are interested, we’re going to spend the afternoon remembering Kieran. Of course, you’re all invited. Neelix has prepared a few things for us to eat and drink, all things that were Kieran’s favorites. The gym will officially reopen tomorrow for the usual recreational activities. Thank you all for coming. Dismissed."

Kathryn lingered at the entrance as the majority of the crew filed into the gym. B’Elanna and Seven stood beside her, each reading over the memorial plaque. "I’ve never seen this picture of her before," Janeway commented, looking at Kieran as she appeared in her late teens, more arms and legs than ever, hair cut short, almost to stubble.

"I did not know she was such an accomplished athlete," Seven added. "I knew she was good, but I did not realize she had won honors for it."

B'Elanna put a hand on each woman’s back. "We’ll have to get together some evening, and I’ll show you all her trophies and medals and awards. She keeps them in a storage cube in our quarters. There are some holovid photos too, and a copy of the championship game against Tennessee. I tried to get her to watch it with me, but she was too embarrassed. You know Kieran, humble to a fault," B'Elanna said proudly.

"That would be fun," Kathryn agreed. "Shall we go and do our duty, ladies? We just have to get through the next couple of hours, without falling apart."

Seven put a protective arm around her spouse. "We will be fine. Kieran wouldn’t want it any other way."

B'Elanna glanced up at the towering Borg. "Agreed."

__________

"Holy fuck," Doctor Malea Thomas watched the temporal telemetry coming in. "No wonder she’s a mess," she rubbed her hand over the stubble of her hair distractedly. "She killed her best friend."

Doke protested. "But that woman wasn’t her Kathryn Janeway. She was a completely different Janeway."

"Kieran already had the beginnings of spatial psychosis, and I’m not sure she truly understood which Janeway she was dealing with. I mean, she seemed lucid, but we can’t really know for sure at what point she lost it. If she was still holding it together, killing Janeway probably pushed her over the brink."

"Now can you treat her?" Doke was getting impatient. They’d never kept anyone aboard for so long.

"I think so," Malea sighed. "I may have to erase some of her memory, though. I won’t unless I absolutely can’t get her stable any other way, but it has to be considered."

"Malea," he said firmly, "whatever is most expedient. At this rate, I’m going to have to launch another probe just to find her Voyager, because you know they haven’t been sitting idly by, waiting for her to come back."

"Indulge me just a little longer, Joe. I can salvage this mission," she promised.

"You’d better," he crossed his arms. "My record was spotless until this little fiasco."

_________

Kieran Thompson-Torres became physically ill everytime she got on board the Delta Flyer. She was sure she could smell the death of Kathryn Janeway, could feel it permeating her skin directly from the air inside the shuttlecraft. Doctor Thomas finally decided to sedate her, stick her in the Flyer, and have Doke insert the shuttle in Voyager’s path. They’d find Kieran unconscious, but at least they’d find her.

"I though you said she was better," Doke accused the short woman who had carefully reconstructed Kieran’s sanity.

"She’s a damn sight better than she was, Captain," Malea was defensive. "I busted my ass to get her to this point."

"Why didn’t you erase her memory?" he demanded. "It would have been simple enough."

"Listen, I don’t question your decisions, and I expect you not to challenge mine. It was in the best interest of my patient not to tamper with her memories. I got her to talk about the experience, and I think she’s coming to grips with it. She’s fragile, but she’ll recover. I’m convinced she wouldn’t have recovered completely without her friends and family, though. So let’s just get her back to her people."

Doke just wanted this mission to be over with, at any cost. "Fine. I’ll help you get her aboard. Let’s go."

_____________

Seven of Nine double checked her readings, a look of total disbelief on her face. "Mr. Kim," she said without looking across the bridge.

"I see it too," Harry confirmed, "but I don’t believe it."

Janeway planted her hands on her hips, looking back and forth between her officers. "Well, somebody report whatever it is you don’t believe," she barked.

Seven straightened. "Captain, the Delta Flyer has just entered our sensor range."

Janeway was staggered, and Chakotay had to steady her. "On screen," she ordered. "Magnify."

"It’s the Flyer, all right," Tom Paris muttered.

"Life signs?" Janeway felt like her brain was submerged in warm water.

"One, Captain. Strong and steady," Harry advised with utter elation in his voice.

"Set course to intercept, Mr. Paris. Hail—them," Janeway commanded, unable to let herself hope they were hailing ‘her’.

"No response," Harry said, crestfallen.

"Tuvok, get a tractor beam on it. Bring it aboard. I’ll be in the shuttle bay. Seven, you’re with me."

"Shall I inform B'Elanna, Captain?" Chakotay inquired.

"No," Janeway snapped. "Until I know if that’s Kieran on that ship, this information does not leave this bridge. Understood?" her tone brooked no argument.

"Understood," Chakotay replied, and glanced around the bridge with intent.

___________

Kathryn Janeway and Seven of Nine jogged to the shuttle bay. Janeway keyed the Flyer’s door control, and as the hatch lifted, she caught a glimpse of long, sprawling legs. She practically jumped through the hatch.

"Dear God, she’s alive," Janeway muttered, fumbling with the restraints that held the unconscious Counselor in place. Her hands were shaking.

"Let me, Kathryn," Seven offered, always calm and collected. The second Seven had the Counselor free, Kathryn was hugging her. "Janeway to the Doctor."

"Yes Captain?" the Doctor sounded cheerful.

"Medical emergency in the shuttle bay. I need you here right now."

The Doctor materialized with his mobile emitter’s help, but his jaw dropped as he realized who Janeway was holding in her arms. He whipped out a medical tricorder. "She’s drugged. But otherwise, she’s fine, as far as I can tell."

"Captain, there is a data PADD on the conn, not one of ours," Seven reported.

"Let’s get her to sickbay," the Doctor advised. "I want to check her out thoroughly."

Janeway authorized the transport and sent the Doctor away with the Counselor. "What does the PADD contain?"

"A message from someone named Doctor Malea Thomas, on a ship called the USS Parallax. It is Kieran’s medical history for the past several weeks. The Doctor needs to see this immediately."

_______________

After verifying that the Kieran in his care was not out of synch with the rest of the crew’s temporal signature, and was indeed THEIR Kieran Thompson-Torres, the Doctor read over Malea’s notes, and decided to revive the Counselor.

"She’s coming around," the Doctor advised.

B’Elanna Torres hovered over her partner on one side of the biobed opposite the Doctor, anxiously watching Kieran’s face. Seven of Nine stood demurely at the foot of the bed with the Captain, whose face was impassive, though her heart was racing.

"Kieran, honey," B’Elanna dropped her face next to the Counselor’s ear, "wake up, please," she urged.

With a gasp and a jolt, Kieran sat up and quickly tried to scramble into a corner. Her eyes darted around the room like a frightened animal’s. B’Elanna grabbed her hand and refused to let her scuttle back on the biobed any further.

Recognition slowly dawned in her expression, and Kieran stopped struggling. "Lanna?" she whispered hoarsely. "MY Lanna?"

B’Elanna held out her arms. "It’s me, bangwIj."

Kieran collapsed into the Klingon’s sturdy arms with a sob. "And we’re married right? And we have a baby together? And Kathryn is still the Captain? I didn’t kill her? Seven is married to her? And Naomi and Seven weren’t killed in an explosion? Katie—you and I have a baby named Katie, don’t we?" Kieran’s words tumbled out desperately as she clutched at her wife.

Janeway and Seven exchanged concerned glances. "Is she still suffering from spatial psychosis, Doctor?" Janeway asked quietly.

"She is very distraught, and her brain chemistry is certainly borderline, but I wouldn’t call it psychosis. Extreme duress, mental fatigue, nervous breakdown, but not psychosis. She will need rest, and lots of it. Dr. Thomas’ notes indicate a treatment regimen that I am unfamiliar with, but I am going to trust that it is the proper course. It makes logical sense," he explained, preparing a hypospray. "You can visit, but please, keep it brief." He gently touched Kieran’s arm. "Counselor, I’m going to give you a hypospray, but it will be all right," he prefaced the treatment.

Kieran nodded absently, baring her throat for him. "Lanna, can we go home now?" she sounded like a child.

"I don’t think so, honey. You need to be in sickbay, right now. But I’ll stay with you as long as the Doctor will let me." Then more softly, she said "Seven and Kathryn are here, too. Would you like to talk to them?"

"Here? Are you sure?" Kieran hid her face in B’Elanna’s uniform. "Kathryn’s alive?"

Janeway had had enough. She stepped up beside the Counselor, gingerly moving the Doctor out of the way. "Kieran, I’m alive and well," she assured the bewildered woman. She lay a hand on her shoulder. "I’m fine."

Kieran’s head turned slowly. As her eyes took in the face of her Captain, she bit her lip. "Kat?" she questioned. "You’re okay? Oh, thank the Gods, I was so afraid—" she exhaled in relief, reaching for Kathryn’s face. She touched it and jerked her hand back. "We’re friends, aren’t we? I’m sorry, Captain, I shouldn’t have touched you, but I think we’re friends, at least, we were—" she stammered, self-conscious and worried that her actions were improper.

"Kieran," Janeway’s tone was firm but welcoming, "we are best friends, and you may touch me anytime you wish."

Kieran tentatively extended her hand again, cupping Kathryn’s face in it. "We’re not married, are we Kat?"

Janeway smiled reassuringly, leaning into Kieran’s caress. "No, we’re not. But we are like family. I’m married to Seven of Nine. You’re married to B'Elanna."

Kieran swallowed hard. "I think I remember that. I’ve never hurt you, have I?" she questioned Janeway with a quaver in her voice.

Kathryn lay her hand over Kieran’s, which was still holding Kathryn’s face. "Never," she closed her eyes against the sadness she felt at her friend’s disorientation.

"You have a baby too," Kieran struggled to recall the name. "Gretchen. Is that right?"

"Yes, that’s right. And we have a nine year old girl that we adopted. Do you remember her?"

Kieran cracked a smile. "Naomi Wildman," she replied triumphantly. "She wasn’t killed in the mutiny?"

"No she wasn’t," B'Elanna chimed in, drawing Kieran’s gaze back to her. "And she is going to be thrilled to see you again."

Kieran peeked over B'Elanna’s shoulder at the statuesque Borg at the foot of her bed. "Seven?" she ventured.

Seven moved alongside the bed. "I am right here," she patted Kieran’s shoulder. "I am so delighted to have you home, Counselor."

"I missed you all," Kieran’s face screwed itself up and she started to cry in earnest. "I was so scared I’d never get back to you," she hid her face in B'Elanna’s chest. "Doctor Thomas promised me she’d send me back to you," she explained, "and she did it. Oh, I love you all," she managed between ragged breaths, reaching to pull the other two women into a group hug. She clung to them all, like a drowning woman with a buoy in a stormy sea. "I missed you so much," she repeated, shaking violently with her emotion.

The Doctor watched with a keen eye, already making plans for Kieran’s recovery. When she had quieted momentarily, he cleared his throat. "I think the Counselor needs to rest, ladies," he advised them.

Kieran tightened her arms around the women. "No, please, don’t go," she sounded terrified. "If you leave, I might never see you again. I could wake up somewhere else again."

B'Elanna kissed her hair. "No, baby, that’s not going to happen. You’re home now, and it’s not a dream. You’re not going to wake up in some other universe. This is permanent. Trust me. I promise, this is where you’re going to wake up."

Kieran gradually eased her grip on Seven, then on Kathryn. "You’ve never lied to me," she whispered to B'Elanna. "You—you love me?"

B'Elanna couldn’t stop the tears any longer. "Oh, yes, bangwIj, I love you. I will always, always love you. If I thought for a second you might disappear again, I’d never sleep again for the rest of my life."

"Okay, then," Kieran decided. "I’ll go to sleep. I’m feeling pretty wiped out, anyway," she yawned, the hypospray kicking in.

Long after Kieran dropped off to sleep, the three women stayed behind in a protective circle, watching her sleeping, B'Elanna holding Kieran’s hand, Kathryn holding the other, Seven resting her hand on Kieran’s shoulder.

"Look at us," B'Elanna whispered, laughing softly. "We tell her she won’t disappear into another universe, but we’re anchoring her, like we’re afraid she might."

Seven grinned sheepishly. "So much for logic and reason," she quipped. Then feeling foolish, she withdrew her hand. "I should find Naomi and explain what’s happened." She leaned over the biobed and placed a brief kiss on Kieran’s forehead. "Sleep well, Counselor. Welcome home," she added.

Kathryn kissed Kieran’s hand, then placed it carefully on the bed. "I’m afraid to find out what she’s been through," she admitted. "It sounds like she’s been to hell and back," her voice broke.

"The important thing is, she’s back," B'Elanna insisted. "We’ll get her through this. I can count on you, can’t I?"

Kathryn and Seven reached instantly for the Klingon. "Of course you can, B'Elanna. We will always be here for you both," Kathryn vowed. "Why don’t we take Katie home with us after day care, and you can stay with Kieran, if you like."

"That would be great, thank you," B'Elanna readily agreed. "I don’t want her to wake up alone."

__________

Naomi Wildman had been standing at Kieran’s bedside for well over two hours. She was sorely tempted to awaken the slumbering woman, but she resisted. It had taken every ounce of restraint she could muster not to run into the sickbay and grab Kieran to hug the daylights out of her. If B'Elanna hadn’t been there looking incredibly worried, Naomi might have been unable to resist.

Seven had warned Naomi that Kieran might not seem like herself, but that she had been very sick, and Naomi would need to be patient with her, if her memory wasn’t quite intact. Naomi had crossed her arms and asked point blank if Kieran had spatial psychosis, and Seven, never missing a beat, explained that Kieran was recovering from it. Naomi had demanded to know why Seven didn’t just come right out and say so in the first place.

Kieran’s breathing became more shallow and she began to stir. Her eyelids fluttered a few times and she blinked against the bright lights of sickbay. "Lanna?" she asked.

"Right here, bangwIj," she took her hand again.

Kieran smiled. "You were right. I didn’t disappear," she eased up on one elbow. "Hey!" she said brightly, holding out her arms to Naomi, "get up here," she demanded.

Naomi let the lanky woman lift her up on the bed, and helped her sit up to hug her close. "Kieran," Naomi held tightly to her. "Don’t you ever leave me again," she scolded. "Promise me."

"Na," Kieran stroked her silky red-gold hair, "I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry."

Naomi kissed Kieran’s cheek. "We’ll let it slide this time, Lieutenant," she said harshly, then she giggled. "That’s my imitation of K-Mom," she explained.

Kieran grinned. "It sounded just like her, too," she chuckled. "Can you do her SRGB look?"

Naomi did a fair imitation of the look that was legend on the ship, the one that when leveled at you made you wonder if you should Shit, Run, or Go Blind.

Kieran and B'Elanna cracked up laughing. "Has Kathryn seen that?" Kieran wanted to know.

Naomi shook her head. "No way. She wouldn’t think it was one bit funny," she giggled. "Want to see my imitation of the Doctor in a snit?"

Kieran gathered the Ktarian into her embrace once more. "Now I know I’m home. God, I missed you, Naomi."

"I missed you too," she snuggled into the Counselor’s long arms. "Here’s another one: ‘Carey! I need that dilithium mix bumped up NOW!’" Naomi grinned at B'Elanna, whose timbre and expression she had just duplicated.

Kieran howled with laughter. "Oh, that’s dead on, Na, dead on," she hugged the little girl tightly. "You are a treasure."

The Doctor poked his head in the room. He was stunned at the improvement in his patient. "You’re looking much, much better, Counselor," he said smugly, whipping out a medical scanner. "Your dopamine levels are vastly improved. Acetylcholine is almost normal. How do you feel?"

Kieran considered. "Hungry. Can I have something to eat?"

"What would you like?" B'Elanna went to the replicator.

"Corn chowder and a piece of coconut cake," Kieran decided. "Hey Doc, when can I go home?"

He turned to go, but tossed the remark over his shoulder: "As soon as your dopamine levels are back down, I’d say. Probably tomorrow. Until then, try to keep the merriment to a minimum, and get as much sleep as you can."

Behind his back, Naomi was mimicking his gestures and facial expressions. B'Elanna tried not to spill corn chowder all over as she burst out laughing.

"Young lady," Kathryn Janeway’s voice boomed as she walked into the room, "it’s not polite to mock people, even if they are just sentient projections." She grinned fondly at her daughter. "Besides, you have to hold your mouth like this to look like the Doctor," she added, drawing her lips tightly and approximating his most disapproving expression.

Kieran chuckled, though something about the sight of the Captain made her very uncomfortable. "You do that very well," she complimented the Captain.

"Show her your imitation of her, K-Mom," Naomi enthused.

"Naomi! You aren’t supposed to tell someone when you’ve been making fun of them."

Kieran crossed her arms expectantly, wrestling down the feelings of dread that sprang to the surface at the sight of Kathryn Janeway. "Let’s see it Kathryn. Do Kieran."

Janeway smiled warmly. "Okay, give me a minute." She turned her back to her audience. When she turned back around, she had a laughably earnest expression on her face. "Tell me, how does that make you feel? What I think I hear you saying is that you feel angry," she nailed Kieran’s Counselor mode, complete with the hand gestures.

B'Elanna was startled. "That was pretty good, Captain. Your voice is nothing like Kieran’s, but not a bad impersonation."

Janeway bowed with a flourish of her hand. She approached the Counselor and hugged her fiercely. "I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you back. You look a lot better," she murmured next to Kieran’s ear. "Can I get you anything?" she asked, letting go finally.

Kieran touched her face, studying the high cheek bones and wondering why Kathryn looked so drawn and pale. "I have everything I need, thanks. Have you been okay, Kat?"

Kathryn blanched. "No, I have not been okay," she retorted. "How could I be?" she added softly.

Kieran winced. Her mind replayed the memory of Kathryn Janeway, half conscious on the Delta Flyer, begging to die. Kathryn had not been okay then, and this Kathryn was not okay because she must have surmised what Kieran had done, or at least, that’s what Kieran’s addled mind concluded. She jerked her hand back as if she’d been burned. "You know, don’t you?" she misunderstood Janeway’s reply.

Janeway lifted Kieran’s chin with two fingers, meeting her eyes. "Know what? Kieran, if I look like hell, it’s because I lost my best friend and a member of my family, and I have been grieving. What do you mean, I know?"

"I thought—well, never mind what I thought," she tried to cover herself. Once again she extended her hand, caressing Kathryn’s cheek. "I’ve never hurt you," she told herself. "I never would. I’d stand beside you in a mutiny, I swear it, Kat," she started to slip into that questionable mental state where memories and alternate realities jumbled.

Kathryn looked meaningfully at her closest friend. "I know that," she assured her. "You eat, now, and get some rest. We can talk later, when you’re feeling better."

"Okay," Kieran closed her eyes wearily. "You’ll come see me later?"

"Of course," Kathryn promised.

The biobed sensors set off an alarm and the Doctor came rushing back in. "That’s odd," he commented, double checking the settings to rule out a mechanical glitch. "A few seconds ago, these levels were almost normal again, and now—" he frowned, and looked at the doorway where Janeway had just exited, then back at Kieran.

Kieran’s eyes darted around the room frantically, try though she might to reason with herself. B'Elanna put a hand on her chest to center her again.

"I’m right here, Kieran, and everything is fine," she assured the bewildered looking woman.

Kieran snatched B'Elanna’s hand and looked intently at the wedding ring on her finger. "It’s the right one," she said to no one in particular. "Naomi," she clasped the young girl’s shoulders, "who do you live with?"

Naomi tried not to react. Seven had warned her, after all. "I live with the Captain and Seven of Nine."

"What happened to Samantha Wildman?" she asked B'Elanna, her face aghast with fear, as if her mind were manufacturing horrors untold.

"She died, bangwIj, you know that," B'Elanna said gently.

"Why wouldn’t you talk to me, Naomi?" she shook the small shoulders desperately. Kieran was sliding into memories of another Voyager. "I got back to the ship, and you avoided me. It hurt my feelings," she clouded up, remembering the rejection.

Naomi glanced helplessly at B'Elanna. "Kieran," she said slowly, "I think you’re confusing me with a different Naomi Wildman. I would never, ever avoid you. I love you. Please believe me," she lay her head against Kieran’s chest.

Kieran closed her eyes again, trying to sort out the conflicting memories in her brain. "It’s all so damned jumbled. One minute, I know where I am and the next, I’m scared to death I’m wrong," she complained. "Help me," she grabbed the Doctor’s sleeve. "I can’t make it stop getting mixed up."

"Counselor," he said in his most authoritative tone, "it will become clearer with time. I assure you. But you must be patient, and give yourself sufficient time to recover. You’ve been through a terrible experience, and anyone would be confused."

Kieran looked hopefully at B'Elanna, then Naomi. "Okay. I can do this. I can keep it straight in my head."

The Doctor prepared a hypospray and injected the Counselor. "That should offset some of the spiking in your neurochemical transmitters. Now I want you to eat, and then sleep. Naomi, you should go for now. B'Elanna, you can stay, but try to keep her stimulation to a minimum, understood? I’m going into my office. If you need me, just call."

After Kieran had dropped off to sleep, B'Elanna ventured into the Doctor’s office. "You noticed it too, didn’t you?" she asked pointedly. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I mean," she elaborated, "you noticed too that when the Captain came in, Kieran started getting worse."

The Doctor pursed his lips. "Yes, I noticed that. What I can’t fathom is why. My guess is that Kieran had some sort of traumatic experience with the Captain, in some other timeline, and everytime she’s confronted by the Captain now, the memory causes her to relapse. I have to test my theory, to be certain. I’m going to tell the Captain to stay out of sickbay until I can get Kieran back to where she was this morning. Then I’ll have Captain Janeway come visit her, and we’ll see if that’s really what’s going on." He ran his hand over his scalp distractedly. "I wish I could talk to this Doctor Thomas. I think she could enlighten me about what is ailing your wife."

"Me too. I’d like to know what could have happened to make her react to Kathryn that way," she considered the possibilities. "She keeps asking if she ever hurt Kathryn. Did you notice that?"

"I did. And she seems to need to validate that she’s dealing with the Kathryn Janeway she remembers—she keeps touching her face, as if it’s somehow different than she recalls," he noted. "I’m just not programmed to know about psychosis of this sort, our knowledge is so limited," he said with frustration. "I may have to consult with Dee."

B'Elanna nodded. "I think that’s an excellent idea. Now that we get regular data packets from Starfleet, her holomatrix is pretty current on treatment protocols," B'Elanna referred to the holographic version of Deanna Troi, who had been created to assist Kieran in training for the job of Ship’s Counselor. "Maybe she can help you figure out what to do."

"Maybe. Let’s keep our fingers crossed," he added.

______________

Kathryn Janeway was struggling with the information she had been given. "I’m making Kieran sick?"

"It would appear so, Captain," the Doctor advised her. "I tested my theory and the results were exactly as I expected. She sees you, and her brain chemistry goes haywire."

Kathryn was indignant. "I’d never do anything intentionally to hurt her," she protested.

"That’s not the point. I am fairly certain she is associating you with some traumatic experience she had while she was spatially displaced. She sees you and it triggers bad memories, and her mind tries to compensate by flooding her synapses with redundant chemicals that make her worse."

"You’re telling me to stay away from my best friend," Kathryn accused. "Isn’t there something you can do?"

He folded his hands in his lap. "For now, the best thing you can do is stay away from her. Let me work with Dee to try to figure this out."

"Of course, I’ll do whatever you say. But I want you to explain to her why I’m not there. I don’t want her to labor under the misperception that I am choosing to avoid her or that I don’t want to see her. Understood?"

"I think," he smiled at the Captain, "you should tell her yourself. Send her a note. If her brain chemistry changes just from reading the note, we’ll know it’s worse than I suspect."

"Agreed," Janeway said more sharply than she intended. "I’m sorry, Doctor, I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I just—well, damn it, I can’t stand not being able to see her right now, when she’s been gone so long." Kathryn considered her dilemma. "You know, you might be right about her having had some kind of trauma. She seemed very determined to tell me that she would never hurt me, and that if there were a mutiny, she’d support me. Maybe she participated in a mutiny against me, in some other timeline."

"That’s possible," he agreed. Then he snapped his fingers. "Do you remember what Kieran said when she first woke up?"

"She was delirious. She said a lot of things," Janeway contended.

"Yes, but one of the things she asked B'Elanna was whether or not she had killed you."

Kathryn winced visibly. "I don’t remember her asking that. Are you sure?"

"There’s one way to find out," he smirked. "Seven was there, and she always remembers everything verbatim."

Janeway ordered Seven to the ready room immediately.

Seven repeated the entire dialogue that had come from Kieran, word for word. "Her exact words, then," she recapped, "were ‘I didn’t kill her?’ I simply assumed she was delusional, and I thought nothing of it. I take it you and the Doctor think otherwise?"

They filled her in on their analysis. "May I see her, Doctor?" Seven asked.

"I don’t see why not. It’s the Captain I’m concerned about," he added apologetically.

"Very well. I will let you know what I can find out."

_________

Kieran had been stable enough to be discharged to rest at home, and B'Elanna was relieved to be in familiar surroundings that might help her partner get a grip on the substance of this dimension. She hoped seeing their belongings and being in the quarters they had shared might solidify certain memories for Kieran.

B'Elanna took Katie into the nursery to breast feed shortly after Seven arrived. Kieran was stretched out on the couch, bundled in an old comforter her grandmother had made. Seven sat down beside her, drawing Kieran’s legs across her lap.

"I am glad you got to leave sickbay," Seven began. She took Kieran’s hand. "We have all been so worried about you. Especially Kathryn."

Kieran squeezed Seven’s mesh encased fingers. "I’m okay, Seven. I don’t want you to worry. It’s just—I get these fleeting glimpses of things, things I am not sure about. They might be memories, or things I was told in other dimensions, or they might be junk my own head is making up. I just can’t say for sure. And that is disconcerting."

Seven nodded. "After I was severed from the collective, when I first began sleeping without my alcove, I had similar experiences. I still don’t know if I was dreaming, or if I was accessing memories from people the Borg assimilated, or if I was reliving memories that were my own. I would awaken feeling very disoriented, and it left me confused and out of sorts."

"Exactly," Kieran smiled gratefully. "You know how it feels then." She studied Seven’s implants. "One of the Sevens I met—I thought she was you, the real you, until I realized her implants were reversed on her face. That dimension was so confusing. It was almost identical to this one, and I thought I was home. But I wasn’t. Now sometimes I look around and I’m terrified that this is just another similar dimension, and that I’m mistaken again."

Seven smiled sympathetically. "That must be very difficult. After Kathryn liberated me from the Borg, I used to be afraid, coming out of my regeneration cycle, that I was still in the collective. I went through a period where I wasn’t sure what was real—my experiences in my alcove or the ones I have when I am not regenerating. Icheb has had similar fears. Eventually, it passes, but in the meantime, it is extremely unpleasant, not trusting what your senses tell you."

"Very unpleasant," Kieran agreed. "May I ask you something personal?"

Seven let out a brief laugh that startled the Counselor. "Of course. Perhaps you don’t remember, so I will remind you. You are a good friend to me, and you and I speak freely with each other. Please, continue to do so."

"Okay, thanks," she assented. "When you were Borg—you assimilated a lot of people—whole species that no longer exist as they did before encountering the Borg," she stated. Seven nodded. "How do you live with yourself, Seven?" she asked in a hoarse whisper. "Do you hate yourself for that?"

Seven’s face remained impassive though the question cut her deeply. "I have learned to live with the knowledge that as a Borg, I did reprehensible things," she stated flatly. "I am not proud of any of them, but I do not allow myself to become disabled by my guilt and regret."

"How? How do I stop hating myself, Seven?" Kieran begged to understand.

"First of all, I talked to you about a good many of the things that disturbed me, and to Kathryn. I was in therapy with you weekly, do you remember that?" Seven asked gently, much as she might with Naomi.

"I remember some of it," Kieran gritted her teeth, "but not all of it. God, everything is so fuzzy."

"Well, you were instrumental in my ability to resolve my self-hatred. I think that confession is a large part of coming to terms with a troublesome past, Counselor. In fact, you told me that once. Second, I trusted that despite any mistakes I’ve made, Kathryn loves me. Knowing that makes all the difference in the world. She will always love me, no matter how many species I helped annihilate, no matter how many Maltanian kidnappers I murdered, no matter what. And third, I trust her judgement. If she can assess my existence and deem me worthy of her love, then I am obviously deserving of love. It also helps that Naomi, B'Elanna, and you express your love for me, as well." Seven took a breath before adding, "And you must know, although I do not often tell you, that I do love you, very much."

Kieran had never even thought about it. "You do?"

Seven’s face softened. "I see I have been remiss in expressing my feelings for you. Forgive me," she said sincerely. "I am not always comfortable with my deepest emotions."

"Oh, I don’t know about that Seven. You do just fine with Kathryn and Naomi and Gretchen."

Seven smiled faintly. "It took a good deal of effort on my part to learn to be emotive, for their sake," she explained. "I always felt deeply, but articulating it is another matter. And I am deeply sorry that I never made myself express to you how much I care for you, because I do love you, Kieran. You have done so much for me and for my family, how could I not?"

Kieran cleared her throat. "It goes both ways, Seven. I love you too."

Seven of Nine regarded the wiry limbed woman whose legs look up most of the couch, and saw the troubled look settling over her face. "Is there something you would like to share with me that is vexing you? Perhaps, since I have confessed so many of my crimes and errors to you, you could do the same?"

Kieran chuckled. "You sound like my old priest, Father Mike. ‘Confession is good for the soul, Kieran,’ he used to say."

Seven was mildly surprised. "I did not know you were Catholic. In fact, when we were planning your memorial service, B'Elanna was adamant that you did not embrace organized religion."

"I don’t," Kieran agreed. "But when I was young, my parents tried to raise me in the church. I fought it tooth and nail, though." Kieran hesitated, then continued, "I’m not sure I remember everything exactly Seven, but in the last dimension I was in before I came back to this one, Voyager was very different. When they encountered the Equinox, and Kathryn interrogated Noah Lessing, Chakotay mounted an overthrow of the Captain."

Seven’s eyes widened. "The crew mutinied?"

Kieran nodded. "And the worst of it is that I was one of the mutineers."

"What happened?" Seven was intrigued.

"Kathryn lost the ship. Chakotay usurped command, after he killed you, Tuvok, and Harry, and he locked Kathryn up in the brig. When I arrived in their timeline, she had been incarcerated over two years."

Seven gasped softly. "That would absolutely drive her insane."

"It did," Kieran confided. "She was stark raving mad. The security guard at the brig told me she stopped trying after she lost you. She apparently couldn’t cope, psychologically, with having her wife die defending her command, and with having her best friend side against her," Kieran hung her head in shame. "I did that to her, Seven. I betrayed her. And when Chakotay killed you, he accidentally killed Naomi Wildman, too. So I not only betrayed my Captain and my best friend, I got you and Naomi killed."

Seven lifted Kieran’s chin with her fully human hand. "You didn’t do anything of the sort," she argued. "That wasn’t you, Kieran. It was a different Kieran Thompson, one who might have had justifiable motives and a rational explanation for her choice. You can’t know for certain if you’d have done the same things," Seven vehemently asserted.

"I haven’t told you the whole story," Kieran continued. "What I did after I got there."

Seven held her hand firmly. "I am listening."

"You can’t ever tell anyone, Seven. Promise me."

Seven hugged her briefly. "Of course, I promise. You have always kept my confidences, and I will always keep yours."

Kieran nodded warily. "I killed her," she blurted out. "I lied to Chakotay about the mutual annihilation principle, convinced him I could bring Kathryn back here with me, and when I got her into the Delta Flyer, I killed her," Kieran broke down then, her words coming in ragged breaths, her shoulders bent and shaking. She recounted all the details her mind could exhume, giving Seven the whole story. When she had finished, she tried to explain herself. "I couldn’t stand to see her like that, Seven. She was suffering so, unable to bear what had happened to her. She begged me to help her, pleaded with me to help her die. I couldn’t just leave her there, rotting in that fucking brig, Seven. Oh, God," she sobbed, "I killed her. I killed her."

Seven of Nine, astonished at the depth of agony pouring out of the Counselor, held on for dear life. "It’s okay, Kieran," she patted her back as the Counselor cried. "It’s going to be okay."

"I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought I was helping her. She thanked me when I pulled the trigger. And now I can’t get it out of my head, how she looked, so wizened and used up, and I discarded her like so much garbage. My best friend. I killed my best friend," Kieran repeated miserably, falling apart in Seven’s arms.

B'Elanna crept into the living room, hearing her partner’s anguished cries, but was brought up short by a warning look from Seven. B'Elanna nodded and went back to the nursery.

"Kieran," Seven said in a firm tone, "that woman was not your best friend. She was a pathetic, damaged woman who had lost everything that made her life tolerable. Your heart told you to help her, and you did it the only way you could. That is not wrong, not in any universe. Actions motivated by love cannot be wrong. It must have cost you dearly, to give her the only way out available. I would hope, in the same situation, I would have the courage to do the same. Endless, needless suffering is the crime, my friend, not what you did."

Kieran didn’t respond, though she wanted to believe.

"It’s no different than when I killed Dutritt, Kieran," Seven stroked the Counselor’s long, braided hair. "You were under tremendous emotional strain, to begin with, knowing that Kathryn was held captive by people who had murdered me, betrayed her, and taken her ship

from her. Add that to the fact that you had been through—how many other spatial incursions?"

"Three prior, I think," Kieran said faintly, face still buried in Seven’s neck.

"You were most likely suffering the effects of spatial psychosis, even then, and not in your right mind, Kieran. And such trying circumstances—such shocking circumstances! No one would fault you for trying to help Kathryn as you did. It seems like a contradiction, yet it is true that for that Kathryn Janeway, you did the most loyal, loving thing you could have done. You set her free again, free from imprisonment, free from madness, and free from a life that held no hope. Just as I lashed out at Dutritt in a primitive expression of protectiveness for Naomi, you relied upon your protectiveness of Kathryn to guide your actions, and you did what was best for her."

Kieran was silent, still clinging to Seven. "You think so?" she asked quietly.

Seven kissed her hair. "I am positive. I know you, and I know you would never hurt anyone out of malice or selfishness or avarice. If you did this, you did it out of concern and love for Kathryn. And you must know, wherever she is, she is in your debt." Seven held the Counselor protectively, wanting more than anything to convince her. "I have watched you with Naomi for the past two years, and if I thought you had anything but goodness and forthright intent in your heart, I would not trust you with her. But I know your heart. She is my precious child, and I would leave her in your care any day. What you have told me today cannot change that, Counselor."

Kieran sighed with relief. "Thanks, Seven. I’d rather lose an arm than hurt Naomi."

Seven smiled. "I know that. That is why you and B'Elanna are to become her guardians, if anything ever happens to Kathryn and I. Gretchen’s, too," she added softly. "Kathryn and I love and trust you both, implicitly. The fact that you could walk the moral tightrope you walked purely out of your devotion to Kathryn makes me trust you even more."

Kieran felt better than she had been in weeks, surrounded by Seven of Nine’s warmth and acceptance. "I’m so exhausted," she murmured, still clinging to the Borg. "I need to rest. But will you stay with me?"

Seven smiled at how childlike Kieran sounded, but she was also deeply touched that Kieran would ask something so vulnerable and basic. "Of course," she agreed, adjusting the pillow at the end of the couch and pulling Kieran down with her. Though it struck her as odd, since she had never slept beside anyone other than Kathryn and their children, Seven drew Kieran into her arms and settled them against the pillow. "Rest now," she invited the Counselor. "I will stay right here."

______________

B'Elanna Thompson-Torres stuck close to her wife for several days, protective, but also needing to convince herself as much as Kieran that she wouldn’t simply disappear from Voyager again. She took a five day leave of absence just to make sure Kieran wasn’t left alone. Mostly, the Counselor slept, trying to replenish her mental and physical reserves. B'Elanna tried not to ask too many questions about the places Kieran had been, afraid she would only confound the tentative hold Kieran seemed to be gaining on reality.

It took a great deal of self-discipline not to inundate her mate with demands for explanations, considering that when Kieran slept, she blurted out things in her sleep that frequently made B'Elanna want to cover her ears. Snatches of sentences were sufficient to make B'Elanna imagine the worst, and Kieran sounded so wounded when she talked in her sleep that B'Elanna was compelled to climb into bed beside her and hold her, as if to shelter her from the nightmares she couldn’t shake. The sessions with Dee didn’t seem to make a dent in the wealth of troubled thoughts that plagued Kieran’s conscious moments, and her sleep was infinitely worse. Kieran clung to B'Elanna so tightly when she slept that it caused physical pain at times, which was significant given B'Elanna’s powerful physique.

B'Elanna had been able to piece together a few scattered impressions from the somnolent babbling. She concluded that in at least one world Kieran had been to, Naomi was dead. She suspected that one of the Kierans had killed Kathryn Janeway in her world, but she had no idea that it had been her own Kieran. She surmised that Kieran had been lovers with Rachel McVicker in an alternate world. But as for the references to rations, to executions, and the desperate pleading Kieran seemed to be doing with someone who apparently left her for someone else, B'Elanna hadn’t a clue. The Klingon loved her wife unconditionally, and would stand beside her regardless of what had happened, but living in ignorance of the details of their time apart drove B'Elanna to distraction. She tried to occupy herself with the mundane chores that had to be attended to: meal preparation, caring for Katie, and being on hand when Kieran needed to be held and reassured.

Naomi Wildman stopped by every afternoon, which seemed to raise Kieran’s spirits tremendously. B'Elanna was busy in the kitchen, making a pot of vegetable soup, while Katie slept and Naomi read aloud to Kieran. B'Elanna smiled to herself as she listened in on the story Naomi was reading, a classic of American Literature about four sisters growing up in New England. Naomi particularly liked the lead character, Jo March, and when she read Jo’s dialogue, her voice took on a forceful, confident tone. B'Elanna was amused by the fact that she and Kieran had once read stories to Naomi, and here she was, returning the favor.

Kieran was stretched out on the couch, eyes closed, lips curling at the corners as Naomi read about the March sisters’ rainy-day plays they staged in the attic of their home. Kieran fondly remembered reading to Naomi, stories such as The Velveteen Rabbit, Charlotte’s Web, Stellaluna, and the Littlest Klingon Warrior. She’s growing up too fast, Kieran thought. She’s already capable of working a full shift for B'Elanna every day, though thankfully Kat won’t let her yet. Next thing you know, she’ll be dating Icheb. He’s the only one even close to her age, so I suppose it’s inevitable. She has her whole life ahead of her, so many options and wonderful opportunities. I wonder what’s happening with the Voyager where she died. The Voyager where I killed Kathryn Janeway, she reminded herself.

Thinking about the gruesome battle in that parallel universe’s Cargo Bay, Kieran stopped listening to the story. Her brain replayed the logs that detailed Naomi’s death, and Kieran felt tears stinging her eyes. She kept them closed, but Naomi could see the emotions working on Kieran’s face, and she quietly closed Little Women, and scooted up beside her friend. She lay her hand alongside Kieran’s cheek, cupping it gently. "What is it?" she whispered.

Tears puddled in the corners of Kieran’s eyes, though she pretended she wasn’t crying. "Nothing, really," she tried to cover herself.

Naomi lay against Kieran’s chest, hugging her. "Then why are you crying, KT? We aren’t at any of the sad parts of the story," she pointed out.

B'Elanna watched from the kitchen, hoping for once that someone could reach her wife. Seven had been more successful than anyone so far, and B'Elanna was worried sick about the suppressed memories that tortured her spouse’s sleep.

Kieran hugged Naomi close. "I love you, Na," she told her with a broken voice. "I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t know how it would turn out," she pleaded for understanding.

Naomi gripped Kieran’s shirt in her fist. "KT, you’ve never hurt me, not ever. You never could. You’re the kindest person I know," she reasoned with the older woman. "Tell me what you remember that makes you think otherwise."

Kieran sniffled, resting her large hand over Naomi’s head, holding it against her chest protectively. "I—I helped—I—she—I mean, Kieran, Kieran helped Chakotay stage a mutiny. I thought Kathryn had gone totally Suder, you know?" she asked in the tiniest voice.

"Okay," Naomi encouraged her, "so a Kieran in a different timeline did those things. Not you."

"Is that right?" Kieran asked. "It wasn’t me?"

"It most certainly was not you," Naomi said firmly, sounding a good deal like Seven of Nine. "You would stand by K-Mom to the bitter end. Everyone knows that, Kieran. You’re not afraid of anything, not even Maltanian kidnappers with big disrupters."

Kieran held her tighter. "No, that’s not true. I’m afraid all the time," she admitted.

"Tell me what you’re afraid of," Naomi urged.

"I’m afraid I’m not the person I’ve always thought I was," she struggled over the words. "I’m afraid that deep down, I’m the sort of person who could back a mutiny. I’m afraid that I’m really, at the basest level, the sort of person who could string along two women at once and never commit to either one of them. I’m afraid I’m the kind of person whose errors and lack of insight get the people I love killed. I’m afraid I’m the sort of selfish shit that could ignore how much a lonely little girl needs a friend," she sighed with exhaustion.

Naomi clutched the front of her t-shirt harder. "You’re none of those things, Kieran. No matter what your alternate selves did, no matter how bad they were, those people aren’t you," Naomi staunchly defended her friend.

"I’m not so sure, Na. The Kieran that ignored you after your mother died, the one that never got to know you and let you sink into a horrible depression, isn’t she just like me? Where was I when you needed me to talk you out of running away from home? Where was I when you were feeling so alone, you thought the only solution was to leave the ship for good? I’m not one bit better than that Kieran. In fact, I’m worse. She never knew how great you are, so she has an excuse. Where’s my excuse? I know how great you are. I’m the beneficiary of your love and affection every day of my life, and I blew it with you then," she denigrated herself.

"Listen to yourself, Counselor," Naomi gently chastised her. "You sound just like K-Mom, raking yourself over the coals. I was hurt at the time, Kieran, but I got over it, and in the long run, there wasn’t any harm done."

"I got lucky," Kieran said self-critically. "You survived. But that wasn’t always the case in the other worlds I went to," she added darkly.

Naomi considered. "Okay. You’ve had a look at how things could be, at possible outcomes. That’s a good thing, KT, because it gives you better guidelines. It makes you more likely to keep yourself in line, to make your choices more carefully. It’s like you always tell me—learn from your mistakes, and be observant enough to learn from the mistakes of others before you make the same ones."

Kieran closed her eyes. "If I could just get past the fear. God, Na, I look at you and I think how that other Kieran got you killed, and it just paralyzes me. I look at B'Elanna, and I think about how she left me in that universe, and I wonder if I’m holding her back in this one. But more than that, honey, I look at your face, so open and so trusting, and I am overwhelmed by the responsibility of being all the things you think I am."

Naomi squeezed her affectionately. "You are all the things I think you are, Kieran Thompson. But I also know you’re human. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself."

"There are just so many things I want to help you understand, values I want to instill in you, and I think about all the ways my counterparts have failed. It floors me when I realize how much influence I can have on your life, for better or for worse."

"Tell me what you want me to understand, then. I’m listening. What values would you want me to have that you’re afraid I’m somehow going to miss?" Naomi earnestly asked.

Kieran stroked the girl’s hair, which was growing out from an unfortunate incident when she cut it off after she ran away from home. "I want you to know how valuable you are, and that you should never let anyone mistreat you, especially not a lover," she began, thinking of P’Arth. "And I want you to always remember that B'Elanna and I are here for you, and will help you any way that we can. If you need to talk about things, or if there are questions you want to ask, you can come to us."

"I already do that, don’t you know that? I know I can always count on you guys. What else?" Naomi listened through Kieran’s chest as her mechanical heart clicked and whirred, thinking how soothing the sound was.

"Hang on to your faith in the people you love, Na. But more than that, believe in yourself. Know how good you truly are. I met a Naomi in another world who was so angry, bitter, and defensive, I couldn’t have reached her in a million years. She had no appreciation for the things around her or the people around her. She was negative about everything. She despised me," Kieran noted sadly.

"Her loss," Naomi replied. "And you should take a hint for yourself from this little lecture, don’t you think? You should know how good you truly are, and believe in yourself. You know, when you were lost, K-Mom was falling apart. Seven kept her from losing it completely, but she kept on saying how much she had come to depend on you, since she promoted you to Ship’s Counselor, and how she needed your advice or your optimism. It isn’t Tuvok she turns to anymore, or Chakotay. It’s you, Kieran. You and Seven and B'Elanna. You’re her closest advisors and her support system. That says so much! I mean, she relies on you more than her second in command, and Tuvok, her oldest friend. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but it seems to me that K-Mom must think awfully highly of you, and trust your judgement completely. That she thinks so much of you makes me trust you and believe in you even more." Naomi smiled, sitting up. She pretended to check off items on an imaginary list. "Okay. Anything else?"

Kieran chuckled finally, her depression lifting for a moment of respite. "Just one. If I forget to tell you how special you are, in every universe, remind me to speak up," she kissed Naomi’s forehead.

"Will do," she mimicked finalizing the list. "Now, let me tell you a few things I would like you to learn," she teased. "First, stay away from spatial rifts. Second, no birthday present is too extravagant. Third, you can’t keep punishing yourself for things you didn’t do, yourself. Fourth, when in doubt, go with chocolate. Fifth, you have to forgive yourself, even for the things that really are your fault. And last, I still love you, I have always loved you, and I will continue to love you with every molecule in my body until I’m dust."

"Every single molecule?" Kieran asked, grinning. "Wow, that’s a lot."

Naomi kissed Kieran’s cheek. "Yep. It’s a big number. Even Seven probably can’t calculate it, though I’d never ask because she’d probably try." Naomi grinned at her lanky friend, then added, "Oh, and I forgot one other one. Never, ever take on a Ktarian at Kadis-Kot. The results will not be pretty."

____________

Later that night, B'Elanna held Kieran in their bed, neither particularly anxious to discuss the wall that seemed to be dividing them. B'Elanna was afraid to make love with Kieran, because Kieran was so fatigued mentally and physically, but she knew they needed to reignite the fire that had always kept them bonded. She didn’t want to push Kieran, though. Kieran had been holding back because her experiences in the alternate universes made her insecure about her position in B'Elanna’s life, and because she felt guilty for having slept with another woman who wasn’t really her wife, although she thought so at the time.

B'Elanna recalled the conversation Kieran had had with Naomi earlier in the day, and it raised questions that she was no longer willing to let slide. She finally asked, "What did you mean when you told Naomi I left you in another universe?"

"You did," Kieran explained. "For Chakotay. You had a child with him. You threatened to leave me unless I joined the mutiny on the ship, and so I joined. And then after Chakotay had control of the ship, you dumped me anyway," she recounted the details. "And so I wonder now, if in this dimension, I’m holding you back from what you really want, somehow."

B'Elanna moved over her wife, gazing down at her. "What I really want is to be with you. I married you because I’m in love with you, and because I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I’ve never even wanted to date Chakotay. Those other places you went, they aren’t real, Kieran. They don’t say anything about the life we’ve made together, or about the kind of person you are. It’s so strange, you came back to me, but you’re still not really with me. I’m not complaining, just stating the facts. I’ll be patient, and I’ll wait for you, bangwIj. But I miss you."

Kieran returned her wife’s pained expression. "I miss you, too. I just didn’t know for sure if you still want me, B'Elanna."

"Have I ever said otherwise?"

Kieran shook her head. "But you haven’t even tried to touch me since I got back. And I don’t have the right to touch you, not anymore, bangwIj," she confessed with a tone of utter regret.

B'Elanna’s heart rate doubled as fear coursed through her. "How could you no longer have the right to touch me, when I am your blood-bonded mate?" B'Elanna knew full well that only infidelity could sever that tie, and the mere suggestion made her adrenaline surge.

Kieran rolled out of B'Elanna’s arms and sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. "I was displaced in a universe parallel to this one, but so similar, it was almost completely identical. I thought I had made it home. You and I were married, and we had a daughter named Katie, and for all intents and purposes, it was home to me."

"How did you figure out you weren’t really home then?" B'Elanna was intrigued.

"There were clues I should have picked up on, but I did my best to ignore them. I so desperately wanted to believe I wasn’t lost again," she emphasized with her hands. "I had an accident, and when they took me to sickbay, they discovered my physiology didn’t match their Kieran’s physiology. I had already been there several weeks, at that point. That B'Elanna and I made love, not just once, but many times."

B'Elanna did not respond. The silence hung in the air between them for many moments.

"Do you want me to sleep on the couch?" Kieran asked softly.

"No," the flat reply came back. More silence.

"Do you want me to move out?" Kieran asked even more faintly.

B'Elanna hesitated for a long time, then finally said "Of course not." She sat up and joined Kieran. "When one of your duplicates showed up on Voyager, I thought she was you. I can see how you could have been fooled, and if she had stepped off the Delta Flyer and swept me off to bed, I’d have gone. It could happen to anyone, in those circumstances," she allowed. "I didn’t have spatial psychosis, either, and I hadn’t just been through weeks of trauma," she added. "I wish it hadn’t happened, I’ll admit that. But I’m not going to hold it against you. Now if you told me you’d slept with Kathryn, that’d be a different dish of gagh," she pointed out.

"I didn’t sleep with anyone else—just the B'Elanna in that timeline, because I thought she was you. But in fairness, B'Elanna, there were differences, and I should have realized she wasn’t you. I was trying to talk myself into believing I was home, but the signs to tell me I was wrong were all there. So I don’t blame you if you’re angry with me," Kieran said contritely.

B'Elanna shrugged. "Honey, it seems like a petty thing to be angry about. I’m angry at the situation, but not you. I should just be happy as hell you made it back to me. And now I understand why you’ve been so afraid you’re going to find out you’re in the wrong place again."

"I know I should accept that I’m home, because Dr. Thomas explained to me that the Parallax was going to make sure they inserted me in the correct dimension. But by the time they found me, I was so confused and demented, I didn’t fully trust they could do what they claimed they could. But I love you, Lanna. If it weren’t for that, I couldn’t have hung on to my sanity at all. Even when I didn’t really know the difference between my world and the others, I held to one thought—getting back to you."

B'Elanna took Kieran in her arms carefully, as if she were suddenly fragile. "I love you, Kieran. Nothing can change that. And I want you more now than I ever have. I’m sorry if I’ve neglected you. It just didn’t seem like the right time to approach you sexually, not after everything you’ve been through. I still don’t feel right about it. When you’re ready, you tell me, okay?"

Kieran snuggled back down onto the bed with her beloved. "Okay. Soon, bangwIj, soon," she promised.

 

Epilogue

Kieran Thompson-Torres stood outside the brig, remembering another brig on another Voyager, one that contained a raving, shattered version of Kathryn Janeway. A Kathryn Janeway she had killed. Looking back on the events that led her to that course of action, Kieran wasn’t certain if she had been suffering from spatial psychosis, or if she had simply acted as a matter of conscience. She also wasn’t certain if it had really happened, or if it mattered one way or another.

"I thought I might find you here," Kathryn’s voice wrapped itself around the taller woman.

Kieran smiled and turned to face her Captain. "You did huh? Because the criminal always returns to the scene of the crime?"

Kathryn welcomed the lanky Counselor into her arms. "I’m with Seven on this one, Kieran. Considering everything, if I were in that Janeway’s shoes, I’d want you to shoot me too. God, it’s good to see you," she added, hugging her friend close.

Kieran hugged her back. "It’s good to be able to see you without freaking out," she tucked Kathryn under her chin, hand cradling the auburn tresses of her Captain and best friend. "Thanks for all your letters. They kept me motivated to get better, so I could whip your ass at velocity."

Janeway snorted. "Like that will ever happen," she scoffed, squeezing her companion again.

Kieran let go of the diminutive woman, but grinned wickedly. "I figure, any day now. You’re getting older, Kat, and I’m still in my prime."

Janeway crossed her arms playfully. "Just because my milk dried up doesn’t mean I’m ready for the retirement home, smartass," she declared. "And besides, even at your peak, you blew that dunk in the final seconds against Tennessee."

Kieran rolled her eyes. "For Pete’s sake, Kat, we had an eleven point lead. That bucket was redundant, at best." Then the realization hit her. "You watched that game?"

Kathryn smiled warmly, nodding. "You were amazing."

"Were? Hell, I still am," Kieran bragged, laughing. "Seriously, when did you watch the game? God, B'Elanna didn’t make you, did she?"

Kathryn chuckled. "Actually, we had a special showing in the Kieran Thompson-Torres memorial gymnasium, for the entire crew. It seemed a fitting way to honor our departed colleague."

Kieran groaned. "Oh hell, the entire crew saw me with that horrid haircut?"

Janeway guffawed. "It was a sensation. The barber shop has been besieged with requests ever since. In fact, I’m thinking of getting mine cut, too," Janeway goaded her. "And that horrid haircut is displayed prominently on the plaque outside the gym," Janeway added.

"You’ve got to be kidding me. You really did dedicate the gym to me?" Kieran hadn’t been up to working out since her return, and no one had mentioned that the crew had memorialized her.

"Come on, I’ll show you," Janeway tugged on her tunic, pulling her out of the detention area.

They strolled the corridors of the ship, heading for the gym. Kathryn grinned up at the towering Lieutenant as they walked. "So tell me, what’s Kathryn Janeway-Thompson like?" she teased.

Kieran didn’t miss a beat. "Well, for starters, she has incredible taste in women," she shot back. "And I hear she can replicate a coconut cake to die for."

Kathryn laughed. "Her wife is pretty wonderful, too," she advised the Counselor.

Kieran shook her head. "I can’t believe I married you in any dimension. Lord, what was I thinking?" she teased. Then more seriously, she noted, "Though from what Thompson told me, they are very happy together. I told her I couldn’t believe they could have any chemistry together sexually, considering that I have a penchant for Klingon women," she chuckled. "She told me they have more chemistry than a laboratory."

Janeway smiled up at her. "She told you that?"

"Yep. In graphic detail, too," Kieran replied. "If her description is anywhere near the truth, I really rock your world, Kat," she boasted with a smug grin.

Kieran expected to get swatted, but Kathryn actually refrained, and stunned her by saying "I don’t doubt that one bit, Counselor."

"Aw, come on, you’re flattering me," Kieran nudged her.

"No, really," Janeway replied seriously. "I think friendship is the better part of sexual attraction, so I don’t have any trouble imagining them being completely compatible, in bed or out of bed."

"So what was Kieran Janeway like?"

Kathryn boarded the turbolift. "Deck Nine," she requested. "She was very confused about the fact that B'Elanna grabbed her the second she stepped off the Delta Flyer," Janeway laughed. Then tilting her head, she added "She was actually so much like you, I could hardly tell the difference, except she was obviously in love with me. Seven didn’t like her much," Janeway joked.

"Then she can’t be much like me, because Seven adores me," Kieran sniffed self-importantly.

"Yes, she does," Kathryn conceded. "And she liked Kieran Janeway, too, though she was a little put out that Kieran kept unconsciously touching me."

Kieran laughed. "I can’t feature Seven acting jealous. Now that, I’d like to see. ‘Touch my wife again and you will be assimilated. Flirtation is futile.’ Yeah, I’d like to see that," Kieran pictured it as they left the turbolift.

"You know what is odd, though? Of all the dimensions you visited, there wasn’t one where you and Seven were lovers."

"Well, hell, I only visited four other dimensions. Maybe in all the other ones, I’m married to Seven," Kieran pointed out.

Janeway grinned. "Or maybe you’re married to Neelix in all the rest of them."

"Ewwwww," Kieran smacked Kathryn’s arm. "Don’t even go there, I’ll end up with spatial psychosis again," she threatened. "Or just terminal nausea."

She pulled up short of her next comment as they reached their destination. She was speechless as she looked at the dedication plaque outside the gym. She touched the bronze plate with her name on it, and read the brief biography of her life. "Kat, this is just—awesome," she murmured.

"It was Chakotay’s idea. I wish I’d thought of it. But I added a touch of my own," she smiled fondly up at the Counselor. "Come on, I’ll show you."

Inside the gymnasium, Kathryn had had a transparent plexicast case installed in the wall. Inside the case were all of Kieran’s trophies, ribbons, and awards, along with a pair of her high top basketball shoes, her ICAA championship ring, various photos of her, her basketball jersey, and her Starfleet pips. On the bottom shelf, along with a photo of Kieran and B'Elanna from their wedding day, and a photo of Kieran, B'Elanna, Katie, and Naomi, there was, in the center of the shelf, a framed photo of Kathryn and Kieran, arms around each other, smiling brightly for the camera. A small inscription was set in a plate on the frame. It read Forever Alive In My Heart.

"Kat," Kieran put an arm around the smaller woman, "I never knew you were so sentimental. I’m truly moved."

Kathryn swallowed hard. She hadn’t seen the display since the first day it had been set in the wall, and looking at it now made her remember how fractured she had felt that day. "I’ve learned some very valuable things from you," she replied softly. "Never be ashamed of loving anyone. Never fail to express that love. And never, ever take those you love for granted, because life is fragile," Kathryn stared at the memorabilia intently, remembering Kieran’s memorial service with a welling of sadness in her chest.

Kieran made a soft sound of amazement. "I taught you all that?"

Kathryn nodded, not able to meet her gaze. "Losing you hit me very, very hard. I kept kicking myself, thinking if I hadn’t had you do that fucking Jellico maneuver, you’d have finished the test well before that rift opened, and you’d have been safe and sound. I’m sorry Kieran. What happened to you was my fault. I never expected you to be able to do the Jellico, by the way," she added.

"Then why did you have me do it?" Kieran asked gently, arm still firmly around the Captain’s shoulders.

"I usually throw in something nearly impossible at the end of every pilot’s exam, simply to instill a little humility in the student. Too much cockiness gets pilots killed, and I like them to get a sense of how much caution is actually required. Every now and then, a pilot actually executes the last part of the test successfully, but not often. No one has ever accomplished the Jellico. Hell, I doubted you’d even know what it was."

"I’m glad I could surprise you then," Kieran laughed lightly. "But you’re right about pilots needing a little reality check, once in awhile. It’s a brilliant mentoring concept, Kathryn."

"Well, I don’t mind telling you, it’s one of many things I’ve had to rethink since you disappeared. I tore myself and my command apart, looking at everything I’ve done in our time in the Delta Quadrant. And I gleaned a good deal of insight from that exercise."

"So my accident was the impetus for good things, Kat, and that means you made the best of a bad situation. So why would you keep kicking yourself?"

Kathryn dropped her voice lower. "Because my questionable methods cost me a valued member of my crew, my closest friend, and my Chief Engineer’s wife. And Naomi," Kathryn’s voice cracked slightly, "Naomi skewered me for leaving the coordinates where you disappeared. My God, she was pissed off at me. She made a point of telling me you would never give up on me, and how could I give up on you. And all I could think was that she was right. When Seven and I were separated, and I was behaving like the biggest horse’s ass in the known quadrants, you hung in there with me. You never gave up or washed your hands of me, even though you should have. And there I was, abandoning you to whatever was out there. I didn’t think Naomi would ever forgive me, frankly."

"You’re an outstanding commanding officer, and the death of a crewmember should never shake your confidence in that regard. It should make you question yourself, yes, absolutely. But flagellate yourself, no. If I accomplish nothing else as your Ship’s Counselor, I want only to get this across to you: you aren’t personally to blame for everything that goes wrong. Errors happen, and it doesn’t mean you were somehow negligent, derelict in your duty, or worthy of blame," she turned Kathryn to look at her. "God, I so admire you, and I would give anything to rid you of the self-recrimination you torture yourself with. Do you have any idea how much it hurts me to watch you do it to yourself?"

Kathryn’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She shook her head instead.

"You really don’t, do you? It tears me up, Kathryn, and everyone else who loves you. And there are plenty of people who do, you know. Any one of us would do anything to break you of that habit of beating yourself senseless over every little thing," Kieran emphasized.

"Am I that bad?" Kathryn smiled faintly.

"You’re the queen of bad," Kieran threw her hands up. "The worst of the worst. You’re a veritable Who’s Who of bad."

"Then I guess you’ve got your work cut out for you, Counselor, which suits me just fine. If you’re busy trying to fix your screwed up CO, you can’t be getting lost in any more rifts," she grinned impishly.

Kieran looked at her best friend’s self-satisfied expression, and planted her hands on her hips. "God, you’re impossible, Kathryn Janeway," she grabbed her and hugged her. "And this," she indicated the plexicast exhibit, "this is something I will never forget. So when is it coming down?"

"Why would we take it down?" Janeway was indignant.

"Because, oh heck, I don’t know, maybe because I’m not dead?" Kieran laughed.

"I really think we should keep it this way. It doesn’t hurt anyone to be reminded that we have to be thankful for each other, now, while it counts. And it reminds us to be hopeful, no matter what, because you were gone, and now, here you are."

Kieran smiled warmly at her friend. "But Kathryn, it’s embarrassing. I play basketball in this gym. I’m going to get so much shit for having my own shrine."

Kathryn grinned. "If I accomplish nothing else on this mission, Counselor, I want to get this across to you: modesty does not make a good Commanding Officer, and you are far too modest."

"I’m not a Commanding Officer, though," she protested.

"You could be, Kieran. I’ve been meaning to tell you that. Just another omission I need to correct."

"Come on, I’ll buy you a beer at Sandrine’s. I think you must be dehydrated, ‘cause I could swear you just told me I should be on a command track in my career," Kieran shook her head in disbelief.

They walked out of the gym, but not before Ensign Blue ran up to the Counselor, smiling broadly. She handed her a pen and a piece of paper. "I want your autograph, Counselor. I never knew you were so famous," she quipped.

Kieran scowled good naturedly. "Very funny, Ensign. The Warp Drive Five is still going to kick your ass in the tourney, so laugh it up while you can."

The Ensign howled with laughter as she returned to her teammates, who gathered around her to join in the taunts.

"See what I mean Kathryn?" Kieran accused.

"You may have a point," Kathryn conceded. "But," she insisted as they walked into Sandrine’s, "all kidding aside, I think you are too modest. And you aren’t living up to your potential on this ship."

Kieran was hurt. "I’m not? My last evaluation was very good, Captain," she segued into Starfleet officer mode.

Kathryn hopped up on a barstool, and the barkeep set down two bottles of beer in front of the women. Kieran slung her long legs over the high stool and took a long pull on hers.

"I’m serious about your career, Kieran. You would make an outstanding First Officer. If I didn't have one already, I’d be pointing you in that direction."

"I don’t think Chakotay wants to give up the job anytime soon," she noted wryly.

"No, probably not," Janeway agreed, "but the point remains. We could find a wormhole tomorrow and be home. Chakotay is not going to stay in Starfleet if that happens. He has already told me that much. I, on the other hand, will never leave Starfleet, and after a few weeks of vacation, I’m going to be itching to get back in space. I’d like to be able to take you as my First Officer on my next ship, and B'Elanna as my Chief Engineer."

Kieran kept waiting for Janeway to break into laughter, but she didn’t. "You’re not kidding me, are you?"

"Do I look like I’m kidding?" Janeway appealed to her friend.

"All right, suppose I’m interested. How do I get the training I need and the experience?" Kieran doubted Kathryn would have an answer for that.

"I’ve already discussed it with Chakotay. He’s prepared to instruct you, mentor you, and test you. He thinks you’ll make an outstanding Captain, someday."

Kieran almost choked. "He said that?"

"He absolutely did. He was enthusiastic about the prospect of training his own replacement, in case we find ourselves in the Alpha Quadrant unexpectedly."

"Aren’t you overlooking the most obvious choice, Kathryn? You couldn’t find a more qualified person for your First Officer than Seven of Nine."

Janeway laughed. "Counselor, do you think for a second that Seven and I could work that closely and not come to blows? She is far too protective of me, and too argumentative. I think that arrangement would destroy our marriage. It’s quite the balancing act, as it is. And besides, she can’t take the training. She didn’t graduate the Academy. And she says she has no interest in doing so. She is perfectly happy in Astrometrics. So, how about it? Think you’re up for the challenge?"

"Can I think it over before I give you an answer? I’d like to discuss it with B'Elanna. After all, we are trying to raise a family, now, and she might not be too overjoyed with me working full time, going to school, and pulling extra duty on gamma shift to get command experience. And frankly, Kathryn, I’m a little concerned that if I say yes, there will be hard feelings."

Kathryn knocked back the rest of her beer and signaled for another. "Hard feelings? From who?"

"Harry Kim. He’s been filling in for several years on Gamma, and he’s got a lot of hours logged in the big chair. He might not be too thrilled with the prospect of the new kid on the block stealing his thunder. I came out of the exobio lab, and I’m a full Lieutenant, Kat, and he’s still an Ensign. Shouldn’t he be a Lieutenant JG by now?"

Kathryn lay her hand on Kieran’s shoulder. "An excellent observation. You see, you do have command track in your blood, Kieran. In fact, I’m going to promote Mr. Kim next week."

"You think that will smooth his feathers sufficiently, if I decide to become your FO in training?" Kieran was skeptical. "I think he expects to be your choice, Kat. And what about Tuvok?"

"Tuvok is going to retire when we get home. He has kids to raise, and he is not going to want to go trekking through deep space. He’s already told me that."

Kieran nodded. "Okay. But what about Harry?"

"Actually, I was thinking that Chakotay could train you both. You can both get your commander’s pip, and when we get home, Harry can pick and choose his next posting. The fleet is so depleted since the war, I think he will be able to go anywhere he wants, except to the Enterprise. Wil Riker has that FO spot sewn up for life, apparently."

Kieran eyed her Captain skeptically, but Kathryn’s face was resolute. "I keep waiting for you to tell me this is a joke, but I guess you’re not yanking my chain, are you?"

Kathryn shook her head. "That’s not the sort of thing I’d joke about, Counselor. And as for Mr. Kim, I think Harry is still inexperienced enough that he’d benefit from serving under another Captain. I think it’s important to be exposed to a variety of command styles, which you have been. I’m his first and only CO, and it would be a disservice to him to make him my number one, when he could go elsewhere and learn so much more. Admiral Paris agrees with me. We’ve already discussed that Harry should serve on a smaller ship, perhaps a Constitution class vessel, to get his bearings, before he moves up to an Intrepid class or a Galaxy class vessel."

"And you think I’m ready for the big leagues?" Kieran couldn’t believe she was.

"I think you’re ready for anything Starfleet throws at you, Lieutenant. If I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t suggest any of this."

"I’ll talk it over with B'Elanna, then. Thank you, Captain. You always have been able to see things in me that I can’t see. I appreciate that."

Kathryn smiled fondly. "I owe you, Kieran, for letting you slip by unnoticed in the exobio lab all those years, when I could have been nurturing your development as an officer. Besides," she returned to her usual playful demeanor, "if we get back to the Alpha Quadrant and I make the mistake of letting you and B'Elanna get assigned to someone else’s command, Naomi will most likely stow away to be with you," she chuckled.

Kieran grinned. "And I’d let her, too. But Kat, I’m confused—I’m sorry, I still have trouble keeping it all sorted out in my brain. Is Naomi’s father dead? I know he was in another dimension I visited, but in this one, is he?"

Kathryn nodded sympathetically. "The first data stream we got from home had him listed as a casualty at DS-9, during the second Cardassian occupation. You were the one who did the legal research for Seven and I, so we could adopt her."

Kieran’s mind was a blank on the subject. "And did you—adopt her, I mean?"

"We’re still filling out the documentation, and it’s going into the next transmission to the Alpha Quadrant. You’re going to have to review your logs, Kieran, because you and B'Elanna are co-signatories on the adoption papers. If anything happens to Seven and I, you and B'Elanna become Naomi’s legal guardians."

"I’m sorry," Kieran grimaced, smacking her head. "I just can’t get it all back, yet."

"Hey," Kathryn bristled, "stop that. Nobody expects you to be 100%, Kieran. Not yet," she chastised her friend. "As long as you remember the really important things, like Naomi’s birthday, all’s well."

"Lord yes," Kieran breathed, laughing. "I’d never hear the end of it, if I forgot that."

Then more seriously, Kathryn lay her hand over Kieran’s. "You have to cut yourself some slack. You’ve been through so much in the last three months, and you’re doing better than anyone could have hoped. Be patient, Kieran. It will all come back to you. And until then, you can drill us all with questions."

"You’ll get sick of it, Kat," she finished her third beer.

Kathryn regarded her with the kindest expression Kieran could remember Kathryn ever wearing. "Counselor, I am so glad to have you back, I’d gladly answer a thousand questions a day."

"Okay. Here’s the first. Have you ever been to see me in my capacity as Counselor?" Kieran reached for Kathryn’s beer and jiggled it to see if it was empty. She motioned to the bartender to bring two more.

"You mean have I ever been in counseling personally? Not technically, no. But I utilize your services daily, as part of my senior staff and as my friend, absolutely. Why?" Kathryn was puzzled.

"One of the Kathryns had extensive session records with me—with the Kieran in her timeline, I mean. It confused hell out of me, because I couldn’t remember you ever making an appointment," Kieran explained laughing. "And there’s something else. She was never engaged to Mark Johnson," she added. "And Seven of Nine was not her first female lover. Seven is your first, isn’t she?"

"Yes," Kathryn assured her. "And I was very much engaged to Mark Johnson."

Kieran grinned. "That’s a relief. I saw those session logs and thought I’d lost my mind. Do you even know anyone named Deke? That was the woman the other Kathryn had been lovers with."

Kathryn’s brow knitted. "Deke…Deke…yes, wait, I remember. There was a woman at the Academy when I was in school, a couple of years ahead of me. Her name was Dana, but everyone called her Deke. She was a notorious womanizer. The rumors circulating about her were incredible. I think I even talked to her a couple of times. I know I watched her play hoverball for the Academy team once. She was very good. And though she was attractive, I can’t say I ever considered dating women back then."

Kieran nodded. "Yeah, I didn’t think you’d really considered women, not until you met Seven of Nine. And Christ on a Communion cracker, she’s enough woman to catch anyone’s eye."

Kathryn smacked her hand. "Watch it, Kato, that’s my wife you’re sighing over."

Kieran flinched, but not at the slap. "What did you just call me?"

"Kato. Like your initials, K-Tho. Why?"

"Because Kathryn Janeway-Thompson called her wife by that nickname, I think."

Janeway laughed. "Yeah, I think her wife told me that, and I just must have stolen it from her. I like it though."

"I like it too. There was a comic book hero I loved as a kid who had a sidekick named Kato. If I’m your Kato, you must be the Green Hornet."

Kathryn snorted. "That sounds like something Tom Paris would play on the holodeck, along with Captain Proton."

"It’d be right up his alley, actually. Did I mention in the universe where I was engaged to Rachel McVicker, Tom and Harry Kim were also engaged?"

Janeway almost spewed beer out her nose. "You did not mention that. Dish the dirt, Counselor," she insisted. "I’ll give you five replicator rations if you tell that to Tom, and let me watch his reaction," she chortled.

____________

Naomi Wildman sat in the floor of Kieran and B'Elanna’s quarters, helping Kieran sort out the data PADDs that contained the rosters for the intramural basketball league. Kieran sat with her back against the couch, holding Katie and making nonsense sounds on her tummy to make her giggle.

"I think that’s the last bracket," Naomi reported with a sigh. "This is a lot of work," she noted.

"Sometimes having fun takes work," Kieran agreed. "Now that you’re doing a daily duty shift in Engineering, are you still liking the work?"

Naomi nodded. "Yeah. And it’s a really short shift, only three hours. I tried to get Lanna and K-Mom to let me do a full eight, like the adults, but K-Mom was dead set against it."

"I was too, Na. I told them you’re more than capable, but that you should still be allowed to be nine, and that means time for school and time to play. And," she grinned wickedly, "time to get into trouble with your favorite Counselor."

Naomi scooted closer, lowering her voice to a near whisper. "What are you planning, Kieran?" she bounced in anticipation.

Kieran chuckled. "I think we should hack into the Doctor’s personal profile and give him a long, gray beard. I think I’ve devised a way to keep him from removing it, too."

"I can’t believe you. You are such a child sometimes," Naomi scolded in wonderment. "But I have a better idea. Let’s give him great big body builder muscles, and put him in a string bikini bathing suit. Don’t you ever worry about getting in trouble doing these weird pranks of yours?"

"Well, I would, but since I got your mom to replicate the whoopee cushion that went into Chakotay’s chair on the bridge, she can’t really say much about my shenanigans."

"Poor Chakotay. He’s so proper and tight-assed, he’d never fart in public. It was a hoot when he sat down and that god awful noise ripped through the bridge," Naomi grinned.

"Your language is getting worse, Na," Kieran admonished her, chuckling. "Do you kiss your mothers with that mouth? B'Elanna told me you went off on some crewman in the mess hall. I laughed my ass off. Did you really call the guy a retromingent pedophilic Kazon with dandruff?"

Naomi burst out laughing. "Yeah. Among other things," she admitted. "He had it coming, though. What a leola root head," she rolled her eyes.

"God, I missed you Na," Kieran smiled fondly at her diminutive companion.

"But you met so many other versions of me," she pointed out, "how could you miss me? I mean, aren’t multiple copies of me sort of redundant?"

Kieran leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Never. And they were each different in unique ways. So I learned that there’s only one of you that I’m crazy about. You’re one in a million, and you’re irreplaceable."

Naomi leaned into Kieran’s kiss, smiling. "So are you, Counselor. And I better not have to worry about replacing you again, Lieutenant," she lapsed into her Janeway imitation.

"Yes Ma’am," Kieran saluted smartly, laughing at the impersonation. "Do B'Elanna for me," she whispered conspiratorially.

Naomi obliged by entertaining her for over an hour, until Kieran’s sides hurt from laughing. Naomi had approximated their shipmates with far better accuracy than any alternate universe had produced, as far as Kieran could remember.

END