SUMMARY: The eighth installment of the Raising Naomi series. Voyager encounters an alien life form that induces vivid hallucinations.

RATING: R for the usual sexual scenes and my usual vulgar vocabulary. J/7, T/F, N/F.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Trek. No copyright infringement is intended. After all, it’s an hallucination.

Acknowledgements: Thanks to Captain Starbuck for beta-reading this. As usual, her suggestions and insights made it a better story. And as usual, she makes my life a better life.

Foreword: I started writing this well before the terrorist attacks at the World Trade Center, but it seems I was channeling future events…sort of. I was 139 pages into this story when Enterprise broadcast an episode that also entails hallucination-inducing lifeforms. Now if I can just get my psychic mojo going to predict the winning lottery numbers, I’ll be all set.

What I didn’t foresee was the sudden, inexplicable death of my oldest, dearest friend, Dr. Kendra Baxter, on October 25^th, 2001. The shock of it delayed this story by several months. Kendra was a clever, passionate feminist-lesbian-vegetarian-activist, and the best Vet on the planet. She deserves a far better tribute than any I can offer, but this episode is for her. She was my hero, and thirty-eight is too damned young for someone so brilliant and precious to take their leave. Although I explored the topic of the death of a best friend in "Kieran Redux", until I actually experienced it, I never truly appreciated how much I loved her, or how easily a single event could bring me to my knees.

 

One, Two, Three Naomi’s

By Ensign Mika

Naomi Wildman of the starship Voyager scooted inside her quarters as if a pack of wild dogs were on her heels. She gasped for air, slumping against the wall, feeling the blood drain from her face. She was exhausted, overwhelmed, and confused. She took a few deep breaths, trying to regain her emotional equilibrium.

Steady once more, she made her way to her bedroom, down the hall from the common living area in the quarters she shared with Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine. She was usually not home at this hour, and it seemed peculiar to be home alone. She changed from her uniform into her favorite casual clothes: a pair of baggy sweat pants and one of Kieran’s old t-shirts. Counselor Kieran Thompson-Torres was Naomi’s closest friend on Voyager, and Naomi had a habit of talking Kieran out of her aging clothing, just so Naomi could feel nearer to Kieran when they were apart. Naomi took great comfort in being able to smell Kieran’s personal body fragrance in the fabric of the clothing. She was careful whenever she recycled it to tell the computer to leave the familiar odors in the article of clothing.

Naomi flopped down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. B'Elanna Thompson-Torres, the Chief Engineer of Voyager, was a bit surprised when Naomi begged to be dismissed from her duty shift in engineering, but considering that Naomi was only ten years old, B'Elanna figured the kid deserved an occasional day of hooky. Naomi had never shirked her shift before, and told B'Elanna she had some other things she really needed to do. Engineering was fully staffed, anyway, so B'Elanna excused the strawberry blonde Ktarian.

Naomi squeezed her eyes shut tightly, trying to will away the images in her brain. The Doctor was teaching an extended section on Interspecies sexuality, and Naomi’s head was fairly swimming with various types of reproductive anatomy, terminology, and visual images, a good many of which she found disturbing or distasteful. She shook her head side to side, trying to clear her thoughts, but failed entirely. Sexuality was a lot like a shuttle craft accident, she decided; utterly disgusting, but too intriguing to turn away from and ignore.

She was frustrated beyond explanation, as well. The Doctor insisted on droning on and on about foreplay, arousal states, secondary sexual characteristics, plateaus of response, the stages of orgasm—Naomi thought if she had to listen to him another day she would scream. And to make it worse, Icheb kept giving her the creepiest look, as if he was imagining each lecture topic with her as his partner. Naomi cursed the day her body started to change, endowing her with growing breasts. She was certain if she could only lose them, Icheb would never notice her again.

Naomi considered discussing it with Kieran, who was usually helpful when things bothered her, but it was too embarrassing. How could she explain that lately, everytime she saw a couple walking down the corridors of the ship, she pictured them ‘doing it’? Not to mention that now whenever she heard Seven of Nine and the Captain in bed together, she had graphic images to associate with the sounds coming from their room.

Seven and the Captain, married for several years, had told Naomi about the ‘birds and the bees’ when she was very young, and she had accepted their explanations without much inquiry. As with any child, from time to time the topic crossed Naomi’s mind, but it wasn’t something she allowed herself to dwell upon. It made her uncomfortable.

As she grew older, she thought more about it, and was even eager to take the course the Doctor was teaching. When Counselor Thompson-Torres tested Naomi and Icheb, and determined they were ready psychologically for the material, Naomi had been pleased. Now she wished she had scored in the "not ready" range of the measures. She knew if she told Kieran how she felt, Kieran would have the Doctor discontinue the lessons. She didn’t really want to have to drop out, not after working so hard in the class. And she didn’t want to be squeamish, either.

After all, if the Ship’s Counselor thought she was ready to learn these things, shouldn’t she be ready? As for picturing her acquaintances in compromising positions, she supposed it was natural, but she just didn’t like thinking of her colleagues in such invasive, personal ways. In fact, that’s what had sent her running for her quarters today.

She had seen Rachel McVicker and Noah Lessing in the mess hall. They weren’t doing anything overtly sexual, but once she noticed Noah taking Rachel’s hand, she couldn’t stop imagining them making love. She tried to think of something else. She did calculus in her head, thought about the latest piece of music she was learning, and still, the image persisted of Noah and Rachel, naked and writhing beneath their sheets. It had spoiled her appetite.

She had heard Kieran talk about obsessive-compulsive disorder, and wondered if she was developing it with regard to sex. Lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, her face burned with shame. Was she a pervert? The Doctor talked about deviant sexual behavior, as well as socially accepted behavior, and although he had mentioned that fantasies were considered harmless and fairly well universal to all species, he didn’t place them in the context of imagining other people doing things to each other—only in terms of one’s self engaging in acts with another person. Naomi had rarely imagined herself in a sexual situation, which the Doctor said was a normal thing to do. Instead, she pictured everyone else in sexual situations, from Kieran and B'Elanna to Harry Kim and Claren James, which the Doctor had not really said was a normal thing to do. Sometimes, the images were interesting. Mostly, they made her feel queer inside, as if she were nervous.

Captain Kathryn Janeway and her spouse, Seven of Nine, picked that particular day to come home at lunch, and thinking they were alone, they decided to forego a meal and detour to the bedroom. Naomi heard them come in, and was about to get up and find out why they had come home. She was almost hoping maybe all three of them had some sort of strange virus that might explain her aberrant thoughts. But her two mothers had no more gotten in the door than they started kissing each other and breathing heavily, murmuring things to each other she couldn’t understand. Naomi had paid attention in class enough to know this was foreplay, and she was too mortified to tell them she could hear them. Not only would she be embarrassed, they would simply die.

"I’m not hungry for lunch," she overheard Kathryn tell Seven in a low, throaty growl that made Seven shriek with delight as Kathryn nipped at her neck.

"Kathryn," Seven gasped as the sound of clothing fasteners being undone rang out.

"Do you like that?" Kathryn asked, chuckling.

Seven whimpered in response, sighing into Kathryn’s kiss.

Moments of silence followed, and Naomi hoped against hope that they had changed their minds. Her respite was shattered by a loud, liquid sound and Seven groaning.

"On the couch?" Seven sounded reproachful.

"The bedroom’s too far," Kathryn advised her in that deep, peculiar voice.

Naomi pulled her pillow over her ears, trying to block out the sound, but only partly succeeded. She tried to think of anything else, but couldn’t dismiss the image in her mind of her mothers, moving in tandem and progressing through the stages of orgasm that she had just learned in school. In two days, Voyager would assume orbit around Restid Three, and Naomi would take shore leave. Tom Paris and Harry Kim were taking her on a tour of the Rainbow Caves on the planet. She did not have school, and she could think about something else besides sex. She tried to focus on the trip, and ignored the escalating sounds of pleasure coming from the living room. Rainbow Caves, Rainbow Caves, Rainbow Caves, became her mantra.

When Kathryn and Seven left, Naomi thanked every deity within earshot that lunch only lasted an hour. She wondered why her face was so hot, and why her stomach was quivering inside. She rolled onto her stomach, face down in her pillow, and realized she needed to go to the ensuite. The pressure in her bladder had an unusual quality to it, and she pressed her hips more firmly against the bed. It felt—warm. And tingly. She heaved herself over and off the bed, heading for the ensuite, wondering what in the known quadrants was happening to her body. Embarrassed or not, she resolved to have a chat with Kieran, before she completely lost her mind.

_____________

Kieran Thompson-Torres had finished her appointments for the afternoon, since her two final patients had cancelled. It was an unusual thing to get a cancellation, let alone two, and Kieran wanted to take advantage of the time to catch up on paperwork. She was going over some of Marla Gilmore’s treatment notes when Naomi Wildman stuck her head into Kieran’s office.

"Counselor?" she asked in a hesitant voice.

"Na!" Kieran smiled grandly, shoving aside the PADD she had been perusing. "Come in! How are you?" she asked, standing up and ushering the Ktarian into her domain.

Naomi sighed with relief. Kieran would make things okay again. "I’m—well, I’m here to see you, so I guess I’m not great," she admitted, grinning sheepishly.

Kieran cocked her head to one side. "Well, in that case, come into my private chamber," she invited, holding out her hand. "Tell me what’s on your mind."

They settled in, Kieran in her big, overstuffed leather chair, and Naomi on the matching couch, legs tucked primly beneath her. "You know the Doctor is teaching us about—about—sex and stuff," she faltered momentarily, "right?"

Kieran nodded, smiling. "I helped develop the curriculum, in fact," she advised. "Is it informative?"

Naomi blushed. "Yes. But maybe too informative," she admitted. "I don’t know. KT, it’s so weird, hearing about all that intimate stuff, and then leaving class, and seeing—people together," she explained.

Kieran leaned her chin in her hand. "Seeing people together? Oh, you mean, seeing couples on the ship and knowing what it is they do together?" she asked without sounding the least bit aghast.

Naomi nodded vigorously. "I mean, the Doctor said it’s normal to fantasize about—sex," she seemed to dislike the word completely, "but he didn’t say it’s normal to think about other people doing it," she said fearfully.

Kieran smiled. "He should have said it is, then," she reached across the space between them and took Naomi’s hand. "It’s absolutely normal, even expected, that once you find out all the complexities of intimate relationships, you’re going to look at people and picture them in those situations. Everyone thinks about it, Na. As adults, we try to discipline ourselves not to think about it too much, but the occasional fleeting thought is going to happen. As kids, the thoughts are a lot more frequent, especially for boys. At Icheb’s age, it’s about all boys think about," she chuckled.

"Then there’s nothing—wrong with me?" Naomi asked quietly.

"Lord, no," Kieran assured her. "If you didn’t think about it, I’d be worried," she grinned at her friend. "I remember when I was your age, the hardest thing for me was picturing my parents together," she recalled with amusement. "It gave me—what do you call it?"

"The creeps?" Naomi asked helpfully.

"Yeah, that’s it exactly," Kieran laughed. "No kid wants to think about their parents doing the big nasty," she chortled.

Naomi laughed. "The big nasty," she repeated, her body shaking with mirth. Then more seriously, she added "Thinking about K-Mom and Borg-Mom is bad enough, but I’d be thrilled if that’s all it was."

Kieran’s internal alarms went off. "What do you mean?"

Naomi blushed again, withdrawing her hand and toying with the slipcover on the arm of the couch. "I skipped my shift in engineering today, and I went on home. They um—they came home for lunch, but they ended up not eating," she related with a guilty expression.

Kieran sat up straighter. "You overheard them?" she fought the urge to laugh and the urge to be angry, all at the same time.

"In stereo, on the couch," Naomi said with disgust. "Every time I sit there, now, I’m going to have to think of that."

"Sweetie, why didn’t you let them know you were home?" Kieran asked gently.

"I don’t know," she offered with a rueful grin. "Part of me was afraid they’d be angry, part of me knew they’d be humiliated, and part of me—oh, God, KT, this is so awful," she struggled with the confession. "Part of me was—curious. But then I felt terrible for invading their privacy, and I covered my ears with my pillow."

"It’s hard, sometimes, to resist doing something you know is probably wrong, when it’s right there in front of you, Na. And it’s natural to give in to your curiosity. Frankly, the responsibility lies with your mothers, too, because they shouldn’t assume they’re alone in their quarters."

"You won’t tell them, will you?" Naomi asked, suddenly worried.

"No, honey, of course not. Unless you want me to?" she asked hesitantly.

"No," Naomi replied forcefully. "I’d like to forget it, if I can. I don’t like this, KT."

"Like what?" Kieran asked, smiling assurance at her friend.

"All these thoughts in my head. I don’t like being in the mess hall, and seeing Noah and Rachel, and wondering what they do to each other. I hate it. I want to shut off the images and the questions and just think about something else. But I can’t," she sighed with frustration.

"I know," Kieran said sympathetically. "If it’s any consolation, it gets easier, eventually."

"It does?" Naomi asked hopefully.

"Definitely. I think, for awhile anyway, you’ll be preoccupied with sex and all the things you’re learning about. In fact, you’ll think about it so much, that eventually, you’ll become almost bored with it, and then it won’t weigh on your mind so heavily. So my best advice is, for now, let your imagination run if it wants to. If you give it the freedom to do what it wants, eventually it will find something else to occupy it."

Naomi seemed immediately relieved. "Really?"

"Really," Kieran agreed.

"Why is it different for boys?" Naomi wanted to know.

Kieran smiled softly. "I’m sure the Doctor talked to you about hormones," she explained. "Boys have stronger hormones, in most species, that make them think about sex a lot more than girls do. In human males, it’s testosterone. Girls have milder hormones that make them think about sex, but they also think more about love than boys do. Girls tend to learn to associate love with sex, and so they are more inclined to want love before they have sex. Not all girls, mind you. I’ve known some that treat sex like a workout at the gym," she chuckled.

"Is that wrong?" Naomi wondered.

"No. But sex is very context sensitive, couched in the terms of your personal values. Some people believe that for them, sex is only appropriate in the context of a committed relationship. Others think it’s appropriate with anyone who wants to explore it. It depends on what you believe is important, Na."

Naomi sighed. "How do I figure that out?"

Kieran considered. "I think," she finally decided, "you have to analyze your reactions in certain situations to know how they effect you. For example, when you start to become intimate with someone, you need to think about how much vulnerability you’re willing to share with them, how much you want to trust them with your feelings and emotions. If you start to feel uncomfortable, then you know to pull back a bit."

Naomi gave her quizzical look, not really understanding.

"Okay," Kieran began again. "When I met B'Elanna, I knew I was attracted to her. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to get involved with her, because she had just broken up with Tom. I spent some time with her, though, and she seemed ready to move on. I decided to trust her with my vulnerability. It’s all so gradual, and there are so many levels of intimacy, you can consciously decide when to let things progress. The first date I had with B'Elanna, it was a big deal for me just to hold her hand," she recalled.

Naomi looked skeptical. "Oh come on, KT. That’s so—harmless."

"Maybe," Kieran acknowledged, "but it was still a risk. If I reached for her hand and she pushed mine away, it would have hurt my feelings. And by taking her hand, I was telling her a whole plethora of information."

"Like what?" Naomi was intrigued.

"Like that I wanted to be closer to her. It was an act of admitting I wanted to be more familiar, more intimate with her than we were. She could have sent me a rejection just by not letting me hold her hand," Kieran explained.

"But she let you?" Naomi grinned, knowing the answer.

"Yeah, she did," Kieran grinned back, remembering. "The first time you kiss someone, you’ll know a lot about how you feel about them. Pay attention to your reactions, and go with your gut, Na. If it feels wrong, put a stop to it. If it feels good, then you’ll know it’s okay to do that with them."

"I still don’t understand how that tells you your values," Naomi pointed out.

"Okay," Kieran gave up on trying to be subtle. "A lot of people find out, after they start to be sexually intimate with someone, that afterwards, they don’t feel so good about themselves, because they let it happen too soon. I’ve counseled a lot of people who realized, after they’d had sex with a partner, that they didn’t like being sexually intimate with someone they don’t love. So you learn from your mistakes what you want and what you value."

"K-Mom and Borg-Mom said that the first time should be with someone I trust and love," she mentioned. "But not everyone waits for that to happen. What if it never happens?"

Kieran adored this little girl. "It will happen, Na. I promise. You’re so pretty, and so smart, you’re going to have your choice of dozens of partners."

"What if I want someone who is already taken?" she asked almost inaudibly. "Like Noah," she amended, so that Kieran would not know Naomi meant her.

Kieran was a bit startled at that thought. "Well—um—Noah? I think it’s important to respect the boundaries of people’s relationships. Not everyone would agree with that, however. Again, it’s dependent upon your values. I always look at the fact that I would want other people to respect my relationship with B'Elanna, and not try to breach it, so I would give the same sort of respect to others."

"That sounds like a good plan," Naomi admitted. Then as if her concerns were settled for the time being, she folded her hands. "Well, thanks, KT. I feel a lot better."

Kieran smiled. "Anytime. If something else comes up, don’t hesitate to stop by, Na. Okay?"

Naomi nodded. "I will."

_____________________

Captain Kathryn Janeway looked over the directives that made up the current protocol for command training final examinations. The final exam parameters were always set well in advance of the actual test, so that the curriculum could be adjusted, if necessary, to cover any topics that were part of the final but hadn’t already been taught. The latest update had just arrived in a data stream from Starfleet, and she wanted to familiarize herself with the vast number of changes. Still drowsy from her lunchtime tryst with her spouse, she had to reread one section several times, she was so certain it couldn’t be accurate. Perplexed, she hailed Chakotay to discuss the procedures.

The burly Commander appeared promptly as always, a friendly openness in his tattooed face. "Reporting as ordered, Captain," he said brightly.

"Sit down please," she directed him. "Have you seen this yet?" she slid the PADD across her desk and waited for him to look it over.

His face instantly darkened. "Yes, I have. And I have to tell you Kathryn, I don’t like it."

"Agreed. It stretches the ethical boundaries, if you ask me," the Captain’s brow knitted in disapproval.

Chakotay nodded. "The fact that medical monitoring is considered necessary bothers me. Anything that stressful doesn’t sit well with me. The previous simulations were stressful enough that some of the command candidates washed out for emotional reasons, anyway. Why make them more stringent?"

"It signals something even broader to me that disturbs me," she confided. "It tells me that the post-Dominion War corps isn’t even a reasonable facsimile of the Starfleet we left behind us."

"The methods are highly controversial," Chakotay grimly allowed. "Are you going to comply with the protocol?"

Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes squeezing shut. "I don’t see how I have a choice, do you?"

"Not really. But it makes me wonder how many good candidates it could sour on serving in the fleet at all."

"My thoughts precisely, and it would be a shame, especially after Kieran and Harry have worked so hard at their studies. And you have outdone yourself to instruct them, Chakotay," she gave credit where it was due.

"Thank you Kathryn. They’re both excellent students. I don’t need to tell you that though. And I don’t think either of them will be soured on Starfleet—at least I don’t think so. Harry is not the type of man who questions orders, period. Kieran is a bit more likely to challenge the status quo, but I think her loyalty to you will keep her feelings in perspective."

"That’s part of my ethical dilemma. Kieran will do this, simply because I ask her to, and because she is my friend and she trusts me. This is one of those instances where I have to be her Captain, not her friend, and the friend doesn’t much like what the Captain has to do."

Janeway considered awhile longer. Finally she sighed in resignation. "I’ll get Seven busy setting up the simulations. I’ll assign Tom Paris and Danilovic Jessup to help her. But I don’t like it," she complained. "If you can think of any way to circumvent the rules, I’m open."

Chakotay feigned shock. "Captain?" he asked.

"You heard me Chakotay. This is a bit extreme for my taste, especially considering everything Kieran has been through in the last six months. The Doctor says she’s recovered, but she still looks exhausted to me."

"Well," the Commander grinned, "I imagine that’s got less to do with her spatial displacement experiences than with raising a boisterous Klingon infant, attending Command School, pulling full duty shifts in her office, and extra rotations on the bridge during Beta shift. She’s got a lot on her plate," he pointed out, "And I doubt B'Elanna is any less demanding as a partner than she ever was," he winked at Kathryn. "To top it off, Katie has the colic, and isn’t sleeping much. I can’t imagine anything worse."

Kathryn laughed. "Worse than a Klingon with colic? Me either."

"I’ll discuss the exam simulations with Seven, Tom and Dani," he stood to leave. "But if I think of a way to bend the rules in the meantime, I’ll let you know."

"Thanks," she dismissed him with a nod.

_______________

"This is a lot trickier than the programming was for the Bridge Officer’s Exam," Dani Jessup commented. "This sequence on the planet just doesn’t seem to want to work properly. I know there’s an error cascade in the program, but I don’t know what triggers it," she looked over the code for the umpteenth time, a deep furrow in her brow.

"May I see your syntax?" Seven of Nine asked politely, reaching for the PADD. Dani nodded gratefully. "If we adjust this loop," Seven showed her the modification, "then the sequence flows properly. Let’s run the simulation to this point and test the timing of the beam in," she added. "Computer, run simulation Command Exam Beta, from time index 4.32."

The computer chirped obligingly.

Seven and Dani watched, each taking notice of the timing of the events in the simulation. "Much better," Dani agreed. "The beam in looks natural, now."

Seven of Nine returned the PADD to her colleague. "Yes. Tom can do some additional ‘tweaking’, as he calls it, to tighten up the synchronization, but otherwise, it looks fine. Let’s move on to the battle sequencing."

Dani groaned. "This is the longest, most complex simulation I’ve ever seen. Why didn’t Starfleet just send us a canned program?"

Seven cocked her head. "I cannot say. They provided the design parameters for the planetary environment, but much of the content has been left to us to program. Perhaps each simulation, though similar, is expected to be wholly unique to the participants."

"Maybe. I’ve certainly never seen one that uses both holodecks simultaneously, before. It’s pretty elaborate."

"Among other things," Seven muttered, a disapproving purse to her lips.

"What was that?" Dani turned back to the Borg, who was at the holodeck interface console.

"I said, perhaps we should concentrate on the important things," Seven lied. "Like getting the Captain’s specifications coded."

_____________

The Doctor finalized the medical interface program that would allow him to monitor the lifesigns of Harry Kim and Kieran Thompson during their exams. He had expressed his concerns to the Captain, but his objections had apparently fallen upon deaf ears. He had vociferously contended that the physical and psychological demands of the simulation were inhumane, at best, but Janeway had been resolute. The protocol was the protocol, and like it or not, they were going through with it.

"All right, Counselor," he made a few adjustments to the device Kieran wore at her right temple. "Let’s try this on the holodeck. Run that Klingon calisthenics program of B'Elanna’s, and we’ll see if the monitor is working properly."

"Okay Doc," she smiled, hopping down from the biobed. "How long should I go?"

"Let’s try three levels to start, and if everything goes well, that should be enough. Then Mr. Kim can take his turn."

Kieran made her way to the holodeck while the Doctor took baseline readings on her physiological status. The displays showed her heart rate, brain waves, respiration, blood oxygenation, neurochemical transmitter levels, blood pressure, intraocular pressure, lactic acid levels per muscle group, and calculated an overall stress index. The device also monitored all major organs and reported the relative efficiency of each. The Doctor catalogued the baseline data, compared it to Kieran’s past medical history, and prepared to take readings at various levels of physical exertion.

Kieran began with the level four phase of the calisthenics program, which involved an intermediate level physical confrontation with a Borg drone and a Kazon. She engaged each in hand to hand combat, and dispatched them easily. Level five pitted her against a Hirogen and two Kazon. Level six, her final test phase, presented her with a member of species 8472 to battle with.

Panting and sweating, she tapped her comm badge. "Kieran to the Doctor. How was that?"

"Fine, Counselor. Though you didn’t need to hail me. I can see you perfectly clearly."

Kieran frowned. "You’re going to be watching the testing?"

"Yes. As will Commander Chakotay, and possibly Seven of Nine. Please return to sickbay. I want to make a few final adjustments to your monitor."

"Understood. Thanks." Kieran towelled herself dry as she walked to sickbay. She was growing more apprehensive about this test as the preparations were made. It seemed like an awful lot of precautionary work was going into what had historically been a simple holosimulation. And the medical monitoring was a new facet to the test protocol. But when she had confronted Harry about it, he seemed at ease with it. Nothing to worry about, he had told her. Harry had a tendency to worry about anything and everything, and Kieran figured if he was relaxed about the test, she shouldn’t fret over it.

______________

Naomi Wildman bounced on her heels in anticipation. Lieutenant Harry Kim had promised the ten-year-old an outing to the Rainbow Caves on Restid Three, and the young girl was a virtual tightly wound spring of impatience. Harry grinned at her as she fidgeted, anxious to transport to the planet’s surface.

"They say that the colors are unbelievable," Tom Paris commented to the dark haired Lieutenant, knowing Naomi would overhear. Tom was amused by the young Ktarian’s appetent body language as they stood in line for the transporters. "And there are supposedly all sorts of gems and mineral deposits in the lower chambers," he added, fueling Naomi’s curiosity.

"Don’t torture her, Tom," Harry said under his breath. "I know it’s hard to restrain yourself, but she is just a kid."

Tom smirked. "Harry, you’re just not any fun anymore. Command school is turning you into a drone," he complained.

Harry sighed. It was a frequent criticism from the happy-go-lucky helmsman, who thought that Harry was taking the protocol thing a bit too far. "Why, because I don’t want to taunt a ten-year-old?" Harry shot back. "Finally," he exhaled as their turn arrived and the three travelers stepped onto the transporter dais.

The transporter operator flicked his wrist with a flair. "All aboard for Restid Three," he called out like a train stationmaster. "Next stop, the Rainbow Caves. Energizing!"

A veil of shimmering lights faded before Naomi’s hazel eyes as the trio was deposited outside the entrance to the caves. The façade itself was nothing short of spectacular, the rock thickly marbled with veins of crystal clear quartz and deep purple amethyst that caught the rays from the sun, sparkling in the varied colors of the light spectrum. Naomi gasped at the prism effect that spread over the mouth of the cave.

Tom lay a hand on her shoulder. "It gets better," he promised.

Naomi tore her gaze from the mountain of stone and rainbow long enough to smile gratefully at the two men who had agreed to take her sightseeing. She slipped a hand into each of theirs, saying "Thank you for bringing me, you guys."

Harry smiled brightly. "My pleasure," he assured her.

"Mine too," Tom chimed in. "Let’s see when the next guided tour begins."

____________

Kieran Thompson-Torres, Ship’s Counselor of Voyager and command candidate in training, decided to use the shore leave to put in some extra time on the holodeck training simulations that were part of her command school coursework. She was not satisfied with her simulator scores over the past two weeks, and with everyone visiting Restid Three, she figured she’d have no trouble reserving holodeck time. Her wife, B'Elanna Torres, was less than impressed with Kieran’s choice of leisure time activities, but knew in the long run, Kieran would be happier practicing than playing tourist. Luckily for Kieran, Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine had invited B'Elanna to accompany them to the planet’s surface.

Kieran was the most competitive person Janeway had ever met. The seemingly easy-going Counselor was ruthless in her personal expectations, and made a point of checking her scores against Harry Kim’s every day. Anytime her score fell below his, she repeated the exercise until she bested him by a margin of five points. Janeway monitored Kieran secretly, and it had taken her awhile to figure out exactly what the Counselor was up to, but eventually, the pattern took shape. To Kieran’s credit, she usually bested Harry within two attempts. Most of the time, her scores were better than his, which was fortunate, because the Counselor might not ever finish command school otherwise.

Today’s particular simulation was going badly, and the bridge of the USS Voyager was in shambles. The first officer was dead, the ship had lost attitude control, the helmsman was wounded and struggling to perform, and weapons were offline. "Tuvok," she shouted over the hissing of electrical wiring sizzling, "take the helm. Tom, get to sickbay." She glanced around. "I’ve got tactical, if they ever get the damned phasers back online," she growled, sprinting up to the station.

Tuvok’s hologram studied the controls dispassionately. "We are heading for an asteroid. Time to impact, fifteen seconds."

"Impulse engines, full reverse," Kieran snapped at him.

"Impulse engines are offline. We have thrusters only."

"Then give me the thrusters—just don’t hit that fucking---"

The bridge exploded as the leading edge of the ship impacted the tumbling asteroid. The decompression sucked the entire bridge crew out the gaping hole in Voyager’s hull. The simulation ended with the computer stating "Ship is destroyed. All hands lost. Score will be calculated and transmitted to your work station."

"Damn it!" Kieran swore, kicking the broken strut of the tactical station. "How the hell did Harry beat this thing?" she asked the holodeck ceiling.

"Please restate question," the computer replied.

"Bite my left one," Kieran muttered.

"I always found that an occasional break cleared my thought processes and gave me perspective on the simulations," Kathryn Janeway called out as she fanned smoke and fumes from in front of her face. She picked her way across the destruction that was once a holographic representation of her bridge, shoving aside debris. "You’re pushing yourself too hard, Lieutenant."

Kieran grinned ruefully. "How would you know?"

"Diminishing returns," Kathryn answered, smiling at her lanky friend.

"Excuse me?"

"You’re familiar with the concept, Counselor. Repetition results in increased scores, but over time, the gains diminish," Kathryn lectured, finally picking her way to the smoke-smudged woman.

"Yeah, Kat, I know what it is," she scowled at her CO. "But how would you know my returns are diminishing?"

Kathryn grinned piteously at her closest friend. "I’ve been watching your daily scores. You’re pushing too hard, Kato. Give it a rest. Come with us to the planet’s surface. Your wife has been grousing that she never sees you, and my wife gets too wrapped up in your wife’s issues to have any fun with me."

Kieran threw back her head and laughed. "So this is really about you and Seven, not my diminishing returns," she accused, carefully climbing over smoking wreckage. "You know, fuck this—computer, deactivate program." In a split second the ruined ship disappeared, resolving into a clean holodeck. "Much better." She touched Kathryn’s sleeve as they headed for the exit. "So what did you have in mind, noble leader?"

Kathryn shrugged. "Dinner? A play at the local theatre? The Restid Three Board of Governors was very enthusiastic about our attendance."

Kieran grinned. "You got B'Elanna to agree to go to a play? She must really be desperate for entertainment—unless of course, Restid is hosting a Klingon Battle Epic," the Counselor joked.

They exited the holodeck and moved along the corridor at a steady clip. "You’re a mess," Kathryn advised her. "We better stop by your quarters and get you cleaned up. Damn it, Kieran," she swore, pulling up short and turning the Counselor’s face toward her. "You’re bleeding. We’d better stop by sickbay first."

Kieran gingerly removed Kathryn’s hand. "No need. I’ve got a dermal regenerator in my quarters. You can patch me up there," she headed on toward the turbo-lift.

Kathryn fixed her with a curious eye. "You keep a dermal regenerator in your quarters?" she asked warily. "Whatever for?"

Kieran winked at her. "You don’t want to know, Kathryn," she chuckled wickedly.

"Deck three," Kathryn ordered the computer. "You’re probably right, I don’t want to know," she agreed, frowning. "Do I need to be worried?"

Kieran let out a peal of laughter. "Hardly."

Kathryn regarded her friend skeptically as she followed in her wake, her mind considering the possibilities. Kieran excused herself, once inside her quarters, and stripped in the ensuite while Kathryn continued to stew over the comment. Before Kieran stepped into the sonic shower, she stuck her head out of the ensuite, a taunting expression plastered on her mug. "Your head is going to explode, Kat," she said with a flick of her eyebrows.

Kathryn stuck her tongue out at the foolishly grinning Counselor. Kieran ducked back into the ensuite, decided to take a real shower, and started singing lustily as the water pummeled her scalp.

Kathryn Janeway paced aimlessly, still thinking about the dermal regenerator, trying to ignore Kieran’s vocalizations. She glanced at the bat’leth that hung in stark, steely beauty over the doorway, the perfect adornment for a Klingon warrior’s domicile. The razor sharp edges made her shiver, just thinking about the aggression that was required to wield such a weapon. She had seen her own partner decapitate holographic opponents with the blade, had watched the glory rituals of celebrating the kill, and wondered what it would be like to be wedded to one whose culture engendered such bloodthirsty values.

She stood there staring up at the glistening implement of war, hands planted on her hips, worrying at her bottom lip. Does she need a dermal regenerator because B'Elanna hurts her?

Kathryn felt immediate outrage and protectiveness, just at the thought. Then a more disturbing element occurred to her. My God, is that—what she likes? Kathryn shuddered. She’s so gentle with Katie and with Geejay and Naomi. Surely she can’t find pleasure in pain?

Kathryn resumed her pacing, ruminating over the prospect. Or maybe what I would call pain isn’t painful to her. Maybe she learned to endure it from that girl she met at the Academy—P’Arth? Was that her name? Early experiences can shape your desires, I suppose, though lord knows Cheb Packer hardly bears any relation to what I want in bed, Kathryn mused, continuing to walk the length of the room. She’s right, my head is going to explode. I just can’t reconcile my impression of her with any implication that she would enjoy things that would physically damage her. I mean, I know about ritual mating marks, and those can be brutal, but that’s a one-time thing—isn’t it? How can I know so little about my closest friend’s adopted culture—a culture that belongs to one of the Federation’s most favored allies?

Kathryn was still muddling over her thoughts when Kieran came from the back bedroom, dressed and holding out the dermal regenerator. "I tried to do it myself, but the cut is in a spot I can’t see, even using the bathroom mirror."

"Okay. Take the compress off," Kathryn instructed. "It’s not bleeding too badly now," she flicked the switch on the instrument. "Hold still, Kato. God, you’re as bad as the kids," she griped good-naturedly.

"Sorry," Kieran smiled gently. "So aren’t you going to ask?"

Kathryn pretended to concentrate upon her task. "I assume you have it because you’re raising a Klingon baby, and Katie probably needs minor medical attention from time to time." It wasn’t really what Kathryn suspected, but it was a convenient cover.

Kieran considered disabusing her friend of her illusions, but could tell the subject made Kathryn uncomfortable. She opted to agree with her friend’s excuse. "It’s a good idea. Maybe you should keep one around, in case Geejay needs attention," Kieran lied.

"Good as new," the Captain pronounced. She glanced at the Counselor critically. "Kieran, is there something you want to tell me?"

The Counselor shrugged, taking the regenerator from her friend. "Not necessarily. Are you going to fret about this?" she held up the device.

Kathryn crossed her arms. "If you tell me everything is okay between you and B'Elanna, then I will believe you. But you know if things aren’t okay, you can tell me. Has she—ever hurt you?" Kathryn’s voice dropped to a whisper.

"Not intentionally, Kat, of course not. But you know enough about Klingon culture to know there are certain aspects of being sexually involved with a Klingon that can be risky," Kieran squeezed Kathryn’s hand reassuringly. "B'Elanna is very careful with me, but there are times when I’m really asking for it," she confided.

Kathryn pulled her over to sit down on the couch. "I don’t think I like the way that sounds, Kato. Asking for it?" her brow furrowed in concern.

"Well," Kieran searched for an explanation, "there are certain—um—overtures—that make a Klingon—volatile. When I make those overtures, I know what I’m doing to B'Elanna, and I know things could get out of hand. But I trust her."

Kathryn swallowed hard. "And has your trust been warranted?"

Kieran nodded emphatically. "She is extraordinarily disciplined, but sometimes I push the limits pretty hard, and we get a little—carried away. That’s why I have the dermal regenerator. It would be—embarrassing, to say the least, to have the Doctor privy to our most intimate secrets."

"But when things get—out of hand, as you put it, what is happening between you and B'Elanna is still consensual, right?" Kathryn asked in a small voice.

"Absolutely," Kieran replied instantly.

"And you aren’t going to ever end up in sickbay, like you did with P’Arth, are you?" Kathryn felt two inches tall having to ask, but the sick feeling in her gut demanded that she know.

"Oh, no, Kat, it’s nothing like that, I promise," Kieran patted her friend’s leg. "I was too young and stupid to know with P’Arth that what was happening with her wasn’t passion, it was abuse. With B'Elanna, it’s definitely not abuse. It’s always passion that just goes a little overboard," Kieran contended. Then she did a double take. "Wait, how did you know about P’Arth? I’m sure I never told you about her."

Kathryn studied the floor sheepishly. "When I was evaluating your credentials for command training, I went back through your records from Starfleet Academy. You had an unusual number of visits to the infirmary, so I read your medical records."

Kieran blushed. "I’ve never seen them, myself. What do they say?"

"Kate Pulaski is a very judicious woman, and her notes are tempered, but there are definite indications that you were being abused. She made mention that ordinarily, she would consider the contusions and abrasions typical of Klingon mating behavior, except you came in twice with a split lip, diffuse bruising to the jaw, and loose teeth, and she suspected P’Arth was hitting you," Kathryn explained quietly. "And there were a couple of times that the injuries were severe enough that she kept you overnight. She was afraid to release you. Especially after you came in with a fractured arm. She noted that she didn’t accept your explanation that you broke it playing Velocity," Kathryn advised. "I was shocked, Kato. And I’m so sorry you had to go through that," the stoic Captain’s voice became tinged with emotion.

Kieran smiled sympathetically. "It was a long time ago, Kat. Ancient history. It’s certainly not something I would have wanted you to know about. I’m ashamed that I allowed someone to treat me so badly, and that I thought it was love," she admitted, her color high in her cheeks. "My relationship with B'Elanna is nothing like that. B'Elanna is an honorable woman, and I don’t use that word lightly. I couldn’t ask for a more sensitive, considerate lover."

Kathryn sighed faintly, relieved. "I’m glad. The thought of someone hurting you—I just—" the older woman faltered, unable to articulate her fear.

"I know," Kieran hugged her. "I’d feel the same way if anyone mistreated you," she soothed the older woman, smoothing her hands over her shoulders. "But Kathryn, you have to know, you can ask me anything—don’t waste energy worrying when a simple question can set your mind at ease. You know I’d ask you, because I’m incorrigibly nosey."

Kathryn hugged her back, laughing. "Yes, you are. But I’m boring compared to you. I don’t have any dark secrets in my past, or any clandestine sexual practices that make me need medical equipment."

Kieran raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Boring? Kathryn, you are a therapist’s mother lode. You have more baggage than a transport class vessel."

Janeway stood abruptly. "I do not. And our wives are going to think we stole the ship and left them on Restid Three. Let’s go."

Kieran stood, laughing at her CO. "Typical. You handle my dirtiest laundry and you hide all yours in the hamper. I’m a good therapist, Captain. You should let me help you recycle some of your dirty clothes."

Kathryn gave her a warning look. "I don’t have dirty laundry or baggage. I have come to terms with my past. There’s nothing to recycle."

Like having your father and your fiancée die together—you’ve come to terms with that. And Mark Johnson dumping you. And blaming yourself for stranding us in the Delta Quadrant. But to her face, Kieran only said "If you say so, Kat. But I’m here for you, every bit as much as you are for me."

_____________

Icheb ran all the way from the transport coordinates on Restid Three through the caverns of the Rainbow Caves, looking for Naomi Wildman. He knew that Tom and Harry were taking the Ktarian on the tour with them, and he wanted to see the caverns, but he didn’t want to go alone.

For all of the trouble Q’s son, "Q-ball", as Icheb had called him, had caused, Icheb still missed having someone his own age to spend time with. He even missed being called "Itchy". At least with the other Borg children, he had had a peer group of sorts, though he had been the oldest. The other Borg children had shared his experiences, and understood his difficulty in fitting in with the Voyager collective. Now, his closest age-mate was Naomi, who was a good five years his junior. She had never been assimilated or been part of an interdependent hive mind, and for the most part, she acted indifferent to him. Icheb kept trying to reach out to her, but she made it difficult, at best.

As he pelted down the dark, rocky passes, he ran smack into another young boy, almost as tall as him, and the two knocked heads and fell back on their behinds. "Ow!" the stranger cried out, grabbing his forehead. "Why don’t you watch where you’re going?" he demanded angrily.

"I’m sorry," Icheb rubbed his own head impatiently, standing back up. He extended a hand to the smaller boy, but the boy slapped his hand aside. "I didn’t see you."

"That’s why there’s no running allowed in the caverns, Geebach," he admonished the taller boy with what Icheb assumed was an expletive.

"Are you damaged?" Icheb inquired apologetically. "I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I was trying to catch up to my friends."

The alien boy slowly rose to his feet, making sure his limbs were intact. "I’m okay. But I haven’t seen anyone on this trail that looks like you," he advised.

"I’m looking for a girl, about this tall," he held his hand up to his shoulder’s height, "with long, pretty hair, and two men—one with black hair and the other with sandy blonde hair."

The boy considered, wiggling his prominent, fur-tufted ears. It was a gesture reminiscent of Neelix’ people, but the boy was clearly not Talaxian. "I think I did see them. Come on, I’ll show you where they went."

"That’s very kind of you," Icheb said gratefully. "Especially considering I knocked you flat."

The boy grinned, revealing dazzling white canine teeth. "Restid is a hospitable place. Besides, I’m bored senseless," he admitted. "Come on."

They trotted along the path until Icheb heard the familiar voice of Tom Paris, hollering in the Cavern of Echoes. "Hello!" Tom called out, listening to the word repeat hollowly. Then "Harry is a loser!" came ricocheting through the air.

Icheb heard Harry tell Tom to "grow up."

"That’s them," he advised his escort. "Do you want to come with us?" Icheb asked hopefully.

The alien shrugged. "I guess so. My name’s Jamari. What’s yours?"

"Icheb," the earnest young man replied.

Jamari laughed heartily, slapping his thigh. "You’re kidding."

"What is so funny?" Icheb demanded.

The boy wiped his slanted eyes with the back of his hand. "Sorry. But where I come from, the sound of your name is a slang expression that means ‘the place where feces falls from’."

Icheb rolled his eyes. "Swell," he said, mimicking something he had heard Tom Paris say. "My name means ‘asshole’."

Jamari howled with laughter again.

"Just call me Itchy, then," Icheb told him with utter disgust.

_____________

The tour of the Rainbow Caves lasted over three hours, and Naomi was delighted with the sights. She lingered over the rock samples in the gift shop, selected several, paid for her purchases, and met up with Tom and Harry, who were outside drinking the Restidian version of ale.

"That was amazing," Naomi informed them both, smiling broadly. "I’m just sorry it ended so soon."

Jamari groomed his ears absently, raking his fingers through the reddish brown fur, blending it in with his hair. "That was nothing. You ought to see the Western caverns," he boasted. "I hardly ever go on the tour, since I found the entrance. It’s a lot more spectacular."

Naomi and Icheb pressed him immediately. "Take us," they chorused.

"Okay," Jamari agreed. "But we’ll have to walk a long way. Are you up for it?"

"Can we?" Naomi asked Tom, knowing the fair-haired helmsman would be much more likely to acquiesce.

"Sounds like fun to me," Tom readily agreed.

"Now wait a minute, Tom," Harry argued, "I’m not sure that’s a good idea," he took on that superior tone that grated on the helmsman.

"Jesus, Harry, don’t start in on that wet-blanket stuff again. Live a little. You’re not First Officer yet," he needled him.

"I’m just saying—" Harry tried to plead his case.

"You’re always just saying. Jamari, you’ve been to these caves before?" Tom asked, giving Harry a defiant look.

"Oh, yeah. Tons of times," the boy assured him. "They’re not dangerous. They’re really doora-ja, Tom. You won’t believe them."

"How can you argue with doora-ja, Harry?" Tom cajoled.

Harry scowled. "Oh sure, make me out to be the bad guy. And what the hell does doora-ja mean, anyway?"

Jamari grinned, his sharp incisors gleaming. "Your language doesn’t have a superlative that’s equivalent. The closest thing you have is ‘phenomenal’."

Tom grinned triumphantly. "Sounds like a plan. Lead on, Jamari."

"Yeah!" Naomi cheered, grabbing Icheb’s hand in her excitement, tugging him along, as if he needed urging.

"Wait," Harry tried one last time. "Shouldn’t we—?"

"Look, Harry," Tom’s smile was dark and menacing, "if you don’t want to go, don’t go. Go back to the ship and practice your command simulations. We’re having an adventure here. After all, Mr. Future First Officer, the whole idea behind space exploration is EXPLORATION. You seem to have forgotten that. You’re like an old woman, sometimes."

Harry threw up his arms in exasperation. "All right! Enough with the insults, already. I’m going," he snarled.

__________

B'Elanna Thompson-Torres perused the wares at the open air market, Seven of Nine pressed close beside her. "Do you think this fabric will look good on Kathryn?" Seven held up a swatch of shimmering azure cloth.

"Oooh, yeah," B'Elanna nodded, fingering the fabric. "It will make her eyes jump out at you."

Seven was taken aback. "I do not wish her eyes to fly out of her head, B'Elanna. I merely wish to make her a pleasant looking blouse," Seven stated with alarm.

B'Elanna laughed at her friend. "I mean, the color of the cloth will make Kathryn’s eyes seem more vivid. Don’t take things so literally," she chuckled at the towering Borg beauty. "Hey, do you think Kieran would like this sculpture?" B'Elanna held up a bulky carving made from amethyst, the sun glinting off the sole remaining Borg implant on her cheek.

Seven studied the implant, remembering how B'Elanna had assimilated herself to save Seven’s life. The Doctor had successfully removed all the obvious Borg technology, except this one starburst implant. Seven turned her attention to the carving. "No. The stone in its natural state would please her more," Seven replied honestly. "I’m not sure what that is supposed to be," she admitted.

The vendor stepped forward. "Why, ladies, it’s a Restidian Cardiland. Surely you’ve seen them," he took the artwork and turned it over to show it’s better side. "All the best galleries display them. Cardiland is world-renowned. See how the crafted edge refracts the light?" he pointed out the polished surface.

"Ah, yes," B'Elanna agreed, not seeing it at all, but not wanting to be rude. "Of course."

Seven regarded her coolly. "I do not see the slightest refraction," Seven intoned objectively. "In fact, it is rather unremarkable."

The vendor was unaccustomed to such an honest appraisal. "But—but—it’s a genuine Cardiland!" he sputtered.

"Sorry," B'Elanna moved along the table, smiling apologetically. Then under her breath, she muttered "Jeez, Seven, you didn’t have to be so rude to the guy."

Seven blanched. "He was a purveyor of inferior goods, and that piece was artificial. Everyone knows a Restidian Cardiland has a watermark engraved on the bottom side."

B'Elanna started, shaking her head. "How the hell did you know that?"

Seven regarded her companion dispassionately. "I am Borg. I know many things, including the history of the Restidian people."

B'Elanna held up her hands. "Wait, don’t tell me. You assimilated a few, and so you know all about their artwork."

Seven inclined her head in assent. "Precisely. That piece was not only a poor imitation, it was ugly."

B'Elanna laughed out loud. "You’ve been spending time with DaVinci, haven’t you?"

Seven again inclined her head. "He would have been appalled at that pathetic attempt at duplicating a Cardiland."

"Seven," Kathryn called across the market place. "Seven of Nine!"

Seven’s stony countenance dissolved into the most beautiful smile B'Elanna could remember seeing as the Captain of the USS Voyager loped across the grounds toward her beloved.

"Kathryn," Seven acknowledged her, stooping to kiss her spouse in greeting. "I see you were successful in persuading the Counselor to accompany us."

B'Elanna grinned up at her partner, standing on tip-toes to accept a kiss. "How come she’ll do anything you want, Kathryn, and nothing I want her to do?"

Kieran kissed her wife enthusiastically. "Maybe if I kiss you, it’ll keep you from complaining," she teased. "Have I mentioned lately how lonely the ship is when you leave it?"

"Keep talking, Benal, and I might actually forgive you," B'Elanna slipped her arms around the lanky woman’s waist.

"The light of the entire ship simply faded to darkness the second you beamed to the surface," Kieran laid it on thick. "I wandered the corridors for an hour pining for you. I’m sorry, Lanna, I should have come with you in the first place," the brown-eyed Counselor dropped tender kisses on her wife’s forehead between placations.

Kathryn buried her face in Seven’s shoulder. "Is she done yet? I’m getting nauseated," she smarted.

"Hey, whatever works," Kieran poked Kathryn with a finger. "I suppose you recite mathematical equations to woo Seven," she shot back.

Seven grinned maliciously. "She doesn’t recite them, Counselor, she moans them," Seven quipped, much to the surprise of all present.

Kieran burst out laughing at Kathryn’s crimson face, and B'Elanna covered her mouth to stop from howling. She had never seen the Captain so disarmed.

"Darling," Kathryn rested a hand on Seven’s chest, "please."

"Ah, and now she is begging," Seven continued, waggling her eyebrows and leaning her forehead against Kathryn’s. "A familiar pattern."

Kieran was almost choking she was laughing so hard, and B'Elanna stood there, mouth agape, afraid to say or do anything. Kathryn was staring at Seven in complete shock.

"Come with me, honey," B'Elanna insisted, pulling Kieran away, "there’s something at this booth I just have to show you."

Kieran hung on to B'Elanna, doubling over with merriment. "Oh my God, I think Kathryn just soiled her pants," she hooted.

"Kieran," B'Elanna said darkly, "stop it. The Captain is really pissed."

Kieran wiped her eyes, looking back over at her friends. Kathryn was giving Seven the most focused ass-chewing Kieran had ever seen. She could make out a few choice words, including "inappropriate", "humiliated", and "what’s gotten into you."

"Oh, shit," Kieran sighed. "Poor Seven. She’s just trying to be one of us. If Kathryn had said those things to her, we’d all be enjoying a good laugh."

B'Elanna shook her head. "That’s just it. Everyone is allowed have a human side except Kathryn. She’s not about to let Seven expose what lies beneath the command façade."

Kieran rolled her eyes. "Tell me about it. I’ve been trying to get her to open up to me for years. I can tell her the most revealing things about myself, make myself totally vulnerable, and she never reciprocates. It drives me crazy."

"Uh oh," B'Elanna murmured. "Seven’s crying, and—there she goes," she watched the Borg stride away angrily as Kathryn stormed down the aisle of the market, slapping her comm badge. "And there goes the Captain. I’ll go after Seven. You have to go after the one with the tornado up her ass," she pushed Kieran in Kathryn’s direction.

"Damn it, can’t you be the Counselor for once?" Kieran demanded playfully. "Okay. I’ll hail you when it’s safe to brave the tsunami. I love you," she kissed her wife goodbye.

"Love you too, BangwIj," B'Elanna kissed her back, then sped after the retreating Borg.

______________

Jamari Schwama of the Creoheem had lived in the shadows of the capital city of Restid Three for most of his life. His people had been conquered by the Restidians in a civil war, and his entire family, except him and his sister, had died in the conflict. Like so many Creoheem, the Restidians tried to relocate him to an encampment, but he escaped. There were enclaves of Creoheem living in the back alleys of the city, and some in the caves and canyons outside the city limits, small pockets of impoverished survivors barely scraping by.

After several years, the Restidians decided to ignore the Creoheem, since their numbers were too few to pose a threat. Some of the more open minded Restidians had developed a tolerant sensibility toward the Creoheem, and the government decided it was easier to let the Creoheem alone than to risk public disapproval by continuing to openly oppress them. Jamari lived by his wits, and had learned that the Rainbow Caves were a rich resource of tourists and Restidians with money, alike. He could usually scare up a meal or enough currency to buy one, if he was lucky, on any given day. He ate as little as he could get by on, saving the rest for his little sister, Teseque, who stayed in the cave Jamari had secured for them while Jamari worked the crowds around the tourist attraction.

Today, he had seemingly hit the jackpot as he finished up the lunch provided by Icheb and Naomi. Both youngsters carried provisions that Seven of Nine had packed for their excursion, and when Jamari hinted that he was hungry, the group had an impromptu picnic on the way to the western caverns. Jamari had managed to tuck away enough for his sister to live on for a day, while the others weren’t looking. When they had finished, Jamari waved his new friends over to the mouth of the cave, motioning them to follow. "You’ll need your wristlamps," he advised. "Can I borrow one?"

"Sure," Icheb dug one out of his pack and handed it over. "I brought an extra."

Anal, Tom thought, but didn’t say so. He strapped his lamp onto his arm. "I’ll bring up the rear, if that’s okay with you, Captain Kim," he added sarcastically.

"Lay off, Paris. I’m here, aren’t I?" Harry demanded defensively, making his way into the cave. "Whoa—what are those?" he shone his beacon on the wall of the cave, noticing something moving.

"They’re photosensitive organisms. Don’t shine the light directly on them," Jamari shoved Harry’s arm down. "They can’t stand it."

"They’re beautiful," Naomi breathed in admiration, seeing that the organisms glowed a bright green in the darkness, and not at all when the lights touched them.

"Phosphorescent," Icheb noted aloud. "It smells strangely in here."

"That’s just the organisms," Jamari explained. "They give off a gas as part of their respiration and it smells a little."

"Gas?" Harry reached for his tricorder, but realized he didn’t have it with him. He wasn’t even in uniform.

"Don’t panic, Captain," Tom slapped him on the back. "It’s just a mold spore that glows in the dark."

"Right," Harry agreed, trying to appease his friend. "What’s the matter Naomi?" he asked, noticing the girl had dropped to the ground, cross-legged.

"I guess that hike wore me out. I just want to rest a minute. Is that okay?" she asked hopefully.

"Sure," Harry agreed. "In fact, I’ll join you. My legs are weary too."

"Must be spending most of the day in the dark," Tom mentioned, "but my eyes are so heavy. I could use a nap."

Several seconds later, Jamari was shaking his companions, trying to rouse them, without luck. "Itchy! Itchy! Wake up!" he shouted next to the thin young man’s ear. He shook him roughly, but could not rouse him. "Oh, Geebach!" he shouted to no one in particular. He had the presence of mind, however, to rifle through their packs, taking everything edible he found before abandoning them. The crewmembers were so deep in their own hallucinations, they had no awareness of the robbery, and no memory of what had happened to them.

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

Harry Kim awoke with a yawn, stretching his limbs in the sunlight streaming through the floor- to-ceiling windows of his penthouse apartment overlooking San Francisco Bay. He rolled onto one side to find his wife, Seriah, watching him. She grinned at his sheepish expression.

"I’m doing it again, aren’t I?" he asked with a guilty shake of his head.

Seriah nodded, perfect white teeth gleaming from between full, dark lips, her almond shaped eyes sparkling with humor. Her ebony hair cascaded over delicate bare shoulders as she leaned in to kiss Harry good morning. "It’s okay, love," she assured him. "You must need the sleep or you’d wake up sooner."

Harry pulled her in close, returning her kiss. "You’re too forgiving," he noted. "I’m a lazy, contented desk jockey who doesn’t deserve such an amazing wife."

Seriah smoothed his jet-black hair back from his high forehead. "True," she agreed. "Just don’t forget it," she teased, sliding from beneath the sheets. "And hurry, Mr. Adjutant to Admiral Picard, because I have to be at the amphitheater in two hours."

Harry whipped back the covers and slung his legs over the side of the bed. "What’s on the program this week?"

"Handel’s Water Music," Seriah replied, stepping into the hydroshower. She stuck her head back out. "Wear something nice, okay?"

"Yes, dear," he automatically agreed, jumping up to search his closet for appropriate attire.

Seriah was first violin in the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, and this summer, they were giving a series of free concerts in the Golden Gate Park on Saturday mornings. Harry was bursting with pride for his wife, who was gifted beyond description. The only down side to marrying a famous violinist was that Harry was too intimidated to play his clarinet after meeting Seriah, and so he was now merely a musical spectator, not a musician.

Harry didn’t really mind. He had a comfortable job at Starfleet Command, a baby on the way, and a happy home only three blocks from his parents’ Victorian neighborhood. They were thrilled at the prospect of becoming grandparents, but not as thrilled as Harry was to know he would soon be a father. If Harry’s parents’ involvement in his life with Seriah bothered his wife, she never complained about it, and that alone made the woman a saint in Harry’s eyes.

Seriah exited the ensuite wrapped in towels. "Your folks are meeting us there," she informed him. "Your mom wants to talk about baby names."

Harry groaned. "We’d better decide soon or she’s going to drive us nuts over it," he touched Seriah’s face as she came by. "How are you feeling? Any morning sickness?"

"Not today," she nuzzled his cheek fondly. "Those treatments Doctor Pulaski gave me really helped a lot," she added with distinct gratitude in her voice. "I sent her a fruit basket to thank her."

Harry enfolded the slender beauty in his arms. "I’ll be sure to thank her too," he kissed Seriah’s forehead. "You know, I can’t even tell you’re pregnant. You’re so tiny," he murmured in awe, sliding his hand over her faintly distended abdomen.

"I’m only two months, honey. I’m sure I’ll be huge before you know it though. Don’t rush me. I’m not looking forward to gaining a ton of weight."

Harry chuckled deep in his chest, glowing with joy. "You’ll be even more beautiful," he promised her. "And even if your moods swing like and Andorian Vine Climber, I’ll love you better for it."

"Right. Like you have any idea what it’ll be like."

"I’m no novice," Harry protested. "We had eight pregnant women on Voyager at one time, including B'Elanna and Captain Janeway. I survived that."

Seriah pushed him toward the shower. "You ARE a brave man," she praised him. "B'Elanna and Kathryn can be a handful without gestational hormones," she acceded. "B'Elanna especially."

Harry turned on the hydroshower and whooped "AAAAYEEEEEE!" He quickly reset the temperature.

Seriah laughed softly. She loved to set the controls to blast her husband with ice cold water. "You’d think after all these years you’d have learned to check the setting before you turn on the water," she teased him.

"You have a decided evil streak, woman," he bitched, waiting for his testicles to descend again. "Are Kieran and B'Elanna going to make the concert?"

Seriah sat down to apply her makeup. "Sorry, honey. They’re shipping out in three days, and Kieran’s parents won’t let them get away long enough. They invited us to Marco Island for a barbecue tomorrow."

"Aren’t we supposed to go to Indiana to the Janeway’s?" he called over the noisy water.

"I figured we could do both. You can get a runabout, can’t you?"

"I guess so. I hate to push my position to get privileges though," he admitted. "Admiral Picard keeps telling me to lighten up," he added, shutting off the water flow.

Seriah finished her makeup and started on her hair. "He’s right. You deserve a perk or two, especially for agreeing to teach that ops module at the Academy."

Harry scrubbed the fluffy terry cloth over his hair. "I guess. But I don’t really mind. I like teaching."

Seriah secured her long mane in an abalone hair clip, frowning slightly. "Harry? Are you sorry you’re not shipping out with your friends?" she looked expectantly at his face reflected in the mirror.

"No," he answered too quickly. "Of course not. I love our life here. Oh I’ll miss them, sure, but I don’t want to sign on for another deep space tour. Too much can go wrong. Besides, what would you do on a starship? Play in a holographic symphony?" he lay his hands gently on her bare shoulders, returning her gaze.

Seriah swallowed the nagging dread that Harry was sublimating his needs for hers. "I could stay here, you know."

"No way," Harry squeezed her shoulders. "I’m not leaving you for years at a time to raise our kids alone. I don’t want that kind of life. I want to wake up next to you, Seriah," his voice dropped to a pleading whisper. "I’ve had enough of deep space travel to last a lifetime. And if my job is boring, well, I’ll take boring over barely surviving any day."

Seriah stood, letting her towel fall to the floor as she turned and twined her arms around Harry’s neck, lifting her face to his. "I love you, Harry Kim," she murmured between increasingly passionate kisses. "I couldn’t live apart, either."

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

Tom Paris giggled and whooped as he piloted the WASP16 through a series of barrel rolls, a broad grin plastered across his boyish cheeks. "Man! This baby is smooth!" he enthused to the controllers at Utopia Planetia.

"Yeah, well try not to slam into the freighter on vector 314, Paris," Collins drawled sarcastically in his southern twang. "You total Doc Brahms’ prototype and she’ll be looking for a new test pilot."

Tom only laughed giddily, punched in a course correction, and disengaged the inertial dampeners in the cockpit. Alarms screamed in Collins’ ears.

"Damn it Tom, re-engage the ID’s," Collins barked. "Just once, could you follow the fucking protocol?" he slugged back the rest of his coffee gone cold, crumpling the cup in his fist. Collins knew it was a rhetorical question. He listened as Utopia Planetia’s number one flyboy shouted "YEEEEHAAAAAWWWWW" and maxed the thrusters on the untried aircraft.

God damned test pilots think they can do whatever the fuck they please, he griped inwardly. He reached into his private drawer and snatched the emergency hypospray he had secreted away. Everytime Tom Paris tested a new design, it was a guaranteed Warp Nine migraine for Jerry Collins. This time, he was prepared.

Tom reveled in the sensation of acceleration, his eyes as bright as the tapestry of stars before him. He loved these small ships, especially the Strike Class ships, loved the solitude of the testing, with no one to interfere or distract him, no one to dole out orders, no one to enforce constraints. What he loved even more, what really got his juices going, was the element of danger in the job. He had had a dozen close calls in his three short years at Utopia, even two incidents in which he had to eject from the cockpit, both times from ships like this one, ultra-light fighters. On those two occasions, as he blew the canopy and shot off into space, floating free while he waited for a pickup, he had felt more adrenaline than in all the years on Voyager combined. He doubted if he could ever go back to piloting a ship like Voyager. Too much structure, too many rules, and not nearly enough action.

In fact, he had found the perfect balance between adventure and stability. His job provided the former, and his family provided the latter. It had taken a long time to put together the elements that allowed him to find that fine line, and walking it took discipline, but he was finally happy.

When he arrived home that evening, B'Elanna met him at the door with a beer and a kiss.

"How’d it go with the WASP?" she asked, tugging him into their quarters.

"Amazing," he hugged her as he accepted the mug from her. He sniffed the air. "Something smells good."

"I felt domestic," B'Elanna joked.

"Where’s Katie and Harry?" he reached for the closure on his flight suit, casting a glance around the house for a sign of his step daughter and toddler son.

B'Elanna took his mug again so he could change his clothes. "Kieran is on leave, so she’s taking the kids for the weekend. We’re all alone," she waggled her eyebrows. "Katie insisted that Harry had to go too, or she wouldn’t leave, so Kieran agreed to take them both."

"She didn’t mind?" Tom was mildly surprised.

"Not as much as she minded the idea of not seeing Katie," B'Elanna explained, faintly sighing. She saw Tom wince. "I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. But she hardly gets to spend any time with her, you know."

"It’s okay. We knew when you asked Kieran for the divorce that it wouldn’t be easy. And she chose to take the First Officer’s job, so if she’s always gone, that’s not your fault. At least she understands why Katie can’t go with her. We’ve all made sacrifices, and we’ve all behaved like adults, if I do say so myself," he boasted.

He headed for the bedroom to recycle his clothes. B'Elanna followed him in.

"Let’s sit in the hot tub before dinner," she suggested. "You look tense," she noted, smoothing her strong hands over his shoulders, kneading them.

"Mmmmm, a soak would be nice," he groaned his appreciation for her massage. "But I’m not really tense," he added.

B'Elanna lay a gentle hand against his cheek. "You sure?"

Tom kissed her, analyzing the sensation. "Yeah. It’s just weird whenever Kieran is here. I get the feeling you miss her," he tested.

B'Elanna turned away to change into her swimsuit. "Not the way you mean, Tom. I miss her friendship, sure, but not the marriage." B'Elanna tugged on the straps and grabbed a towel from the ensuite.

"But you didn’t just lose Kieran’s friendship," he reminded her.

"No. And I do miss Naomi," she admitted reluctantly. "But what did I expect? She idolized Kieran, and I broke Kieran’s heart. She’s bound to see me as the enemy."

Tom put his own swimsuit on as they talked. "She’s not a kid anymore, Lanna. She ought to be able to sort out her feelings and realize you’re not some villain."

B'Elanna smiled sadly. "Twenty isn’t exactly all grown up. I was pretty immature at that age," she shrugged.

"Still are," Tom teased his wife.

"You’re one to talk. At least Kathryn and Seven haven’t frozen me out, not completely, anyway, though it is hard for them. Kathryn told me the other day that she thinks Kieran is finally over me, so that’s a relief."

"I’d hope so," Tom clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You’ve been divorced four years. Ready to go?" he held out his arm.

"Lead on, Flyboy."

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

Naomi Wildman watched in horror as Commander Icheb of the Federation starship U.S.S. Sagan faltered on the subspace channel’s distress signal playback, his face a mask of blood and exposed Borg implants. Captain Kathryn Janeway steeled herself against the sight of the young man, watching from the safety of Voyager’s bridge as Icheb struggled to stay conscious on what remained of the bridge of the Sagan, Kieran’s ship.

"Please," he gasped, "Any Federation ship. We are adrift. Our warp drive is---gone," he choked on smoke, "life support is failing," the young man staggered and fell to one knee.

The playback ceased. Janeway swallowed the cold bolt of fear that shot through her. "Helm!" she snapped into action. "Maximum warp to their last known coordinates." She turned to her first officer, Noah Lessing. "I knew I should have headed for DS9. Kieran’s in trouble and Starfleet Command left her out there to fight the Cardassians alone."

"Not alone," Noah reminded her. "DS9 has its own attack force. But I had the same gut reaction when the Cardies came through the wormhole."

Janeway turned to the Ensign at Ops. "Continuous scan, Ensign. Find them."

"Understood," Sanchez replied, initiating a sensor sweep. "I’m picking up debris," she reported. "Their warp core is ahead. It’s not intact, Captain—just fragments," her voice quavered. "I’m detecting bodies. No active lifesigns."

"Janeway to Lieutenant McVicker."

"Here, Captain," Rachel replied.

"Rachel, I need you to assemble a recovery team. We’ve got casualties from Kieran’s ship."

"Aye, Captain," Rachel acknowledged. "I’ll hail you when we’re ready to launch."

Janeway nodded. "You’ve got three minutes."

"Captain," Sanchez tried to calm her voice. "You’re going to need at least five shuttles. I’m counting 37 bodies so far. Additional sensor data coming in. I’ve got debris from their aeroponics bay and their arboretum. There’s vegetation adrift. Oh God," Sanchez stammered. "The engineering section is scattered across the sector."

Janeway had to sit down. If engineering was destroyed, B'Elanna was probably dead.

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

Captain Kieran Thompson-Torres’ last memory was the red alert klaxon screaming in her ear as she stepped over her injured tactical officer to take weapons. The console blew up in her face and she tasted blood, smelled the acrid stench of burning electrical wire and flesh, and blessedly, embraced blackness as it occurred to her that the burning flesh was her own.

The Cardassians had taken out the Sagan’s shields in one strike. Before tactical could figure out what hit them, they were defenseless. The second strike blew out engineering, the arboretum, the family habitat on decks three, four and five, the sciences division on deck six, and the aeroponics bay. The third strike caused a cascade of hull breaches. Sagan was nothing more than skeletal fragments held together by twisted metal, failing structural integrity fields, and prayers. A series of decompressions exploded across fifteen decks, obliterated life support in those areas, and sent pieces of the ship across the quadrant.

Reinforcements from DS9 and Bajor had come too late for the Sagan, but had finally sent the Cardassians running when the assault team from Starbase 375 showed up on their long-range sensors. Voyager arrived in time to evacuate the sparse number of survivors from the Sagan, while the assault forces gave chase to the Cardassians.

Kieran Thompson-Torres was brought to the field hospital established at DS9, barely alive. Naomi was struck by the irony of the fact that Kieran’s injuries were eerily similar to the wounds that had killed her mother, Samantha Wildman. Luckily for Kieran, they weren’t stranded in the Delta Quadrant, as Voyager had been when Samantha Wildman was mortally wounded.

Kathryn found Naomi in the field hospital anteroom, wringing her hands and pacing. "Report," she ordered, then realizing how harsh she sounded, she gathered Naomi into a hug.

"Oh, K-mom, it’s bad," Naomi burst into tears. "Massive head trauma. They’re trying to stabilize her for transport to Starfleet Medical. The neurological damage is too severe for the DS9 medical team to treat. She’s got 3^rd degree burns over 60% of her body, mostly above the thighs. She’s got a duranium fragment imbedded in the right side of her head that penetrated the facial bones, destroyed her right eye, and lacerated the optic nerve. Her artificial heart failed, and her right lung collapsed. Her right arm may have to be amputated, there’s so much damage to the muscles and nerves. They think," Naomi gasped, "if they can get her through the next few hours, she might have a chance to live, but they’re afraid the brain damage may be too extensive."

Kathryn patted the Lieutenant’s back, trying to assimilate the bad news. She squeezed Naomi to gain some measure of control over her vocal chords. "Naomi," she began, her voice thick, "it gets worse. B'Elanna and Katie didn’t make it. In fact, there were no survivors from engineering or the habitat decks."

"Oh God," Naomi felt her knees threaten to give. "Oh no, K-Mom," she moaned, "they’re both dead?"

Kathryn stopped fighting her grief and let the tears come. "Yes, honey. Both of them—and I’ve got to tell Geejay," Kathryn realized. "My God, what am I going to say to her?"

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

Kieran Thompson-Torres emerged from her coma into a world of agony. What was left of the synaptic connections in her brain overloaded with the onslaught of pain from diffuse burns, blunt trauma, and fractured bone. She awoke with a gasp and a guttural scream. The medical team scurried to take vital signs to assess the relative safety of sedating her to the edge of unawareness again. The influx of pain dampening chemicals only tempered the edge of her suffering, and the Doctor supplemented the various hyposprays with cortical nerve blocks.

Kieran could only see with one eye, not realizing that the other had been destroyed, but she could make out the features of three familiar women, looking on with obvious concern.

"Kato?" Kathryn Janeway leaned close, not knowing if the injured Captain had any cognizance of who she was, but hoping. "We’re taking you to Starfleet Medical for treatment. They have the best neurological researchers and surgeons in the quadrant. It’s going to be okay," Kathryn wished she could touch the younger woman to reassure her, but so much of her body was in ruins, there was no place that wouldn’t cause further pain.

Kieran didn’t respond, but her remaining eye wandered over to where Naomi and Seven of Nine stood, each trying to mask the horror they felt at the sight of their longtime friend.

"Captain, I don’t think she can understand you," the Doctor advised. "Her brain damage is extensive."

Naomi gave him a defiant look and moved closer to her friend. "KT, it’s Naomi. You have to hang on. For me, you have to," she urged. She could have sworn she saw a glimmer of recognition in Kieran’s eye.

Kieran tried to speak, but the sound that came out bore no resemblance to English. She tried to ask "Where’s B'Elanna?" which instead translated as "Lahn."

Seven of Nine knew instantly what the Captain was asking, but chose to ignore the plaintive query. Kieran would find out soon enough that B'Elanna was dead. The Doctor had advised against telling her right away.

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

Kieran Thompson was the sort of trauma case experts dreamed of treating, if only for the plethora of medical journals that would want the papers written as a result of the patient’s regimen. Four surgeries and six weeks after the battle at the wormhole, Kieran regained consciousness with some measure of her memories intact.

Naomi Wildman contended that her constant presence at Kieran’s bedside was the critical factor in saving the Captain’s life, and no one argued with the Ktarian. She had asked for and been granted an indefinite leave of absence to tend to the former Counselor, and Kathryn Janeway had pulled every string at her disposal to allow the Chief Engineer of Voyager to stay with Kieran.

Captain Janeway had been ordered to Starfleet Headquarters as part of the official inquiry into the destruction of the Sagan and the investigation into the perpetrators of the crime. Voyager remained in station keeping while the Captain attended to her duties with the brass, who were convinced the attack had been masterminded by an extremist faction from Cardassia Prime. Starfleet had seldom been the target of such terrorist activity, and the Cardassians claimed to have no knowledge of the faction that orchestrated the deaths of over two hundred of Kieran’s crew.

Naomi had slept in a chair in Kieran’s hospital room during her intensive care, venturing out only to eat a single meal each day, recycle her clothes, and make a passing acquaintance with a sonic shower. Kathryn kept a steady stream of visitors coming through the medical ward to spell Naomi: Tuvok had come from Vulcan, Tom Paris from Mars, Harry Kim stopped by every couple of days since he was stationed right there at Starfleet Command, and Noah Lessing had been by the hospital every day. He figured with Voyager in station keeping, there was nothing that precluded him from checking in on his friend. Deanna Troi, having heard of her former protégé’s misfortune, took a temporary assignment to Starfleet Medical to work with the survivors of the Sagan, and specifically with Kieran and Icheb, who would predictably suffer from the guilt of having been spared. Everyone waited with heavy hearts to see if the miracle workers at Starfleet Medical could salvage Captain Kieran Thompson, against the odds.

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

Naomi Wildman smiled brightly as she came into Kieran’s room, hands filled with a bouquet of cheerfully colored flowers.

"Hi, KT," she called out to the distracted woman, who was staring out the window at the clouds. "How are you this morning?" Naomi placed the stems in a vase, one of several that had been sent to wish the recovering Captain well. She carried the vase to the ensuite and filled it with water, then placed it on Kieran’s nightstand. She took a few moments to arrange the fragrant blossoms, then turned to fuss over Kieran’s bandages. "The second round of regenerative surgery really made a difference," she commented as she peeked beneath the dermal sheeting. "The new tissue looks healthy and natural," she added.

Kieran only smiled. The neuroregenerative therapy still hadn’t restored her ability to talk, not fully, and she was embarrassed at her blunted ability to articulate her thoughts. She silently prayed Naomi wouldn’t force her to talk today.

Ruthless to a fault, Naomi whipped out the flash cards the speech therapist had given her. "Okay. Today we’re going to work on ‘R’ ‘S’ and ‘W’," she announced.

Kieran sighed in resignation. "AAAWWWR," she repeated, "EHHHT, uhn HAAUUU," she painstakingly tried to mimic Naomi. She fought back the immediate rush of frustration. She could hear the sounds plainly, knew what she wanted her mouth and her vocal chords to do, but couldn’t harness the muscles properly.

Naomi grinned and kissed her forehead. "Thanks for not fighting me, KT. I know you hate this, but you’ll recover a lot faster if you do some of the work yourself, instead of waiting for your brain to completely regenerate."

Kieran nodded and grasped Naomi’s wrist, tugging her down for a hug. She was weak, but managed to get both arms around the thin young woman. "Na," she struggled to make her tongue and lips do her bidding. "Th-th-th-an yu," she gutted out the simple sentence.

Naomi relaxed into the older woman’s faint embrace. "Don’t thank me, KT," she murmured. "Just get better soon."

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

Naomi read aloud to Kieran for hours on end. The bone structure of the right side of Kieran’s face wasn’t strong enough to support an ocular implant, and reading with one eye gave the recovering Captain raging headaches. So while the maxillary orbital bones were treated and strengthened, Naomi was Kieran’s eyes. Naomi made certain none of the texts she selected dealt with death or any disturbing subject matter; she chose stories that Kieran had read to her when she was a child, tales that she knew the Captain loved that would cheer her.

Counselor Troi had advised Naomi that certain themes were to be avoided if Kieran’s psychological treatment was to succeed. Deanna saw Kieran every day, partly to give Naomi some time to herself, but also because Kieran’s mental state was so precarious. Consequently, Icheb had not been allowed to visit his Captain, despite his vociferous objections to his being exiled. Seven had had to physically restrain the young First Officer to keep him from violating Troi’s orders. Naomi threatened the former Borg drone with bodily harm if he came anywhere near Kieran Thompson.

Deanna had been the one to tell Kieran that B'Elanna and Katie were killed in the attack, although Kieran had already determined as much for herself in the early stages of her recovery. When her memories began to reform, it became painfully clear that the two women who were at the heart of the most important events of her life were missing. Kieran had begun to grieve well before she could talk, but once her speech was marginally intelligible, she made Deanna tell her in exacting detail what had happened to her wife and her daughter.

Kieran had understandably withdrawn into a severe depression, unable to ascertain any justifiable reason for the loss of her family and poorly equipped to find a reason to continue living. If not for Naomi’s determined refusal to let the Captain give up, Kieran would have probably been able to talk her body into expiring. But when nothing else seemed to matter to the dejected Captain, Naomi denounced her soundly for her cowardice and reminded her that it was dishonorable to die defeated. She forced Kieran to confront the cold reality that B'Elanna would lose respect for her if she gave up.

Kathryn and Seven were sympathetic, but firm. Kieran had no choice but to recover fully, resume command of a new ship, and get on with her life. They had suffered through the grim task of breaking the news to their youngest daughter, Geejay, that her first and only true love, Katie Torres, had been killed. If Geejay could weather that blow, Kieran could do no less.

The two young lovers were supposed to enter the Academy together just weeks after the attack on the Sagan. They had hardly had any time together over the past four years, since Kieran took command of the Sagan, leaving her First Officer position on Voyager and effectively separating her daughter, Katie, from Geejay Janeway. Katie and Geejay had practically burned up the subspace bandwidth over that four-year haul, and the two girls were dying to be together again. The Cardassians had ended all that. Geejay had tried to withdraw her application to the Academy, but Seven of Nine had intercepted the request and blocked it until Geejay could process the death of her lover. Once the initial shock had worn off, Geejay regretted her rash decision, and Seven was only too happy to inform the bright young cadet that she had not, in fact, resigned the Academy before she had even begun.

With Kieran ailing, Geejay entering the Academy, and Naomi bound and determined to nurse Kieran back to health, Kathryn Janeway was faced with the first decisional crisis of her post-Delta Quadrant career. She was offered a promotion to Admiral, and a post at Starfleet Command, and the idea of staying close to home appealed to her tremendously. It was Kieran who insisted she take Naomi and get back into space.

"Kat," Kieran told her in barely comprehensible speech patterns, then opted for a PADD to spell out her words, "you’re not suited to sitting behind a desk. You hate paperwork. When I was your Number One, you delegated every bit of it to me, because you couldn’t force yourself to sit still long enough to complete it. Think of it, Kat. Budgets, staffing projections, personnel transfers, performance evaluations, red tape—all the crap you hate about being in charge, with none of the excitement. No more scientific challenges, no more exploring the unknown, no more interesting aliens to hobnob with—just dry, meaningless paperwork. In two months you’ll be suicidal, Captain."

Kathryn had grinned wickedly as she read through the message. "I did delegate it all, didn’t I? But Kato, this is a chance to be home for awhile. Mom is getting on in years. Geejay is still so torn up over Katie. And I think I could finagle a job for Naomi right here at headquarters. Seven would be snapped up by a dozen private companies in a nanosecond. Don’t you need us here?"

Kieran had flinched as if she’d been shot. "Me? Christ, Kathryn, this isn’t about me," she had snapped impatiently, not bothering to type the words. "I appreciate the sentiment," she tried to say, then exasperated, took the PADD again. "But this has to be something you want, not something you feel compelled to do for altruistic reasons. Naomi needs to be back on a starship, and so do you. Seven just needs to be wherever you are. I will always be part of your family, but you have to look out for yourself first. I always have, or I’d still be your First Officer."

Kathryn shook her head. "You were ready to take command, and you’re a damned fine Captain, Kieran Thompson. I was holding you back."

Kieran laughed. "Kathryn, you made me what I am," she typed. "You never held me back. You always did exactly what you thought was proper for my development. I’m just sorry your confidence was misplaced." She dropped the PADD to her lap. "I’m sorry I let you down," she said bitterly.

Kathryn sat down on Kieran’s hospital bed, holding her reconstructed hand gingerly. "You’ve never let me down, Kato. What are you talking about?"

Kieran cut her eyes guiltily away. She gathered up the PADD again, and typed "I’m talking about all the people I got killed on my ship, Captain. You got Voyager through the Delta Quadrant with a handful of casualties, and my first command, I lost two-thirds of my crew."

Kathryn drew Kieran’s hand to her cheek. "Oh God, Kieran, don’t blame yourself for that. The Board of Inquiry cleared you of any wrongdoing. It was a sneak attack by terrorists with weapons we’ve never even conceived of, let alone had a chance to strategize against. If that had been me, I might have lost the whole ship!" she insisted fiercely.

Kieran looked at her dearest friend with skepticism. "You’d have saved them all, Kat," she argued without a doubt in her mind. "You’d have figured out a way. You always saved our asses on Voyager. You and Seven. I didn’t even have time to think about the situation before—" her sadness welled in her, and she stopped pecking out the explanation.

Kathryn held her then, letting her cry, patting her back and rubbing the back of her stubbly head, the long braid lost in the fire aboard the Sagan. She ached inwardly for her friend, knowing the level of self-loathing one could reach when faced with a single death, let alone countless ones. "See," Kathryn hugged her tightly, "you do need me here."

Kieran pushed the older woman away roughly. She snatched the PADD, typing furiously. "Make no mistake. I need you. I will always need you in my life. But I don’t need you here. It would only compound my guilt if you stay on Earth because of me, and end up in a desk job you’ll hate. I mean it Kathryn. As soon as I’m out of the hospital, I want you to get your ass back on your ship, and take your wife and your daughter with you. I don’t want anyone wrecking their career over me. Hell, mine is probably over, anyway, and I’ll retire on disability. Maybe I’ll sign on as a galley worker on Voyager-C once I’m released from medical. Then you can delegate everything to Noah, like you used to do to me, and you and I can get drunk every night and play pool at Sandrine’s." She tired of typing and tried to say "But if you give up command of Voyager, who is gonna take me sailing to the stars?"

Naomi came in then, freshly showered and fed, and eager to get back to her ‘patient’. "You will take yourself, Captain. You’re going to be returned to duty, and don’t start that argument again. You never win it, anyway," she grinned.

Kieran rolled her eye. "Please Kathryn. Take her back to Voyager. She’s driving me crazy," she bitched good-naturedly. "She’s worse than my physical therapist."

Naomi planted her hands on her hips. "I’m the best thing that’s happened to you in weeks, Captain, and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon," she shot back. "Thanks to me, you can actually say physical therapist."

Kieran smiled softly. "I know. I should be more grateful. But right now, I just want to take a nap, so both of you get lost," she tried to lob a pillow at Naomi, but her arm was too uncoordinated and she missed completely.

_______________

Kieran Thompson-Torres beamed aboard the starship Voyager in search of her Captain. She was not looking forward to the confrontation she was about to have with her, but had no choice. B'Elanna was off with Seven of Nine, who had left the marketplace on Restid Three, crying.

The chime to the Captain’s ready room sounded repeatedly, and Kathryn Janeway considered throwing her coffee mug at the door. Finally, she composed herself and shouted "Come!"

Kieran scooted through the doorway, meekly approaching the Captain. "Captain, can I have a moment of your time?" she asked quietly.

Kathryn eyed her cynically. "No jokes, Kato. I mean it."

"No, Captain, I promise," Kieran sat across from the elder officer, who was plainly angry. "You made Seven cry," Kieran began.

"She had no right to talk about our private life that way," Kathryn tossed back the whiskey she had been nursing.

"Kat, come on. She was teasing you. And we’re all friends. It’s not like she said those things in front of the transporter operator, or some Ensign you barely know. And what’s the big deal? I just bared my soul to you a couple of hours ago, told you things about my sex life that would make B'Elanna cringe. Seven was just kidding."

Kathryn studied the ice cubes in her empty glass. "I have an image to maintain," she growled. "Seven has to understand that."

"I agree completely, but you weren’t on duty. And it was just B'Elanna and me, Kat. What Seven said couldn’t change the way either of us look at you. We can separate the commanding officer from the woman."

Kathryn fixed her with a steely glare. "Lieutenant, you’d better learn one thing about being in charge. You’re always on duty. Uniform or not, when you’re in front of your crew, you protect your command image. It’s part of the job."

"That’s funny, Kathryn, because part of your command image, and part of the reason everyone on this ship would follow you into the bowels of hell and back, is because you’re so human. My God, you’re married, Kat. Do you think for a minute anyone on Voyager thinks you’re celibate? Seven made a little off-color joke, harmless innuendo. There were no kids around, and you can trust B'Elanna and I. Where’s the harm?"

Janeway stomped over to the replicator and ordered another drink, plus one for the Counselor. "I don’t suppose there was any harm," she softened slightly, "but I was just so—embarrassed. She made me sound like a harlot or something."

Kieran let out a peal of laughter. "A harlot, eh? You’ve been reading those ancient novels again, haven’t you? I haven’t heard that term since Catechism."

Kathryn smirked. "I suppose it’s a little dated. Went out with the stations of the Cross," she chuckled. "I know I shouldn’t have jumped down her throat like that, Kato, but I just wanted to crawl in a hole and hide. Especially when you laughed at me."

"I’m sorry I laughed at you, Kat. But you were just so adorable, all red-faced and sputtering. It was cute. And Seven sounded like someone who was never a Borg drone, just for a split second. I love it when her humanity comes shining through like that. It’s healthy for her to engage in intimate humor—it means she trusts you, and is secure in your relationship. Having you blow up like that must be very confusing for her. She was just being one of the gang—after all, you make comments like that from time to time, and I’m always popping off with some smart-assed remark. She learned it from hanging around you and I, you know. So yell at me. And yourself."

Kathryn handed the second glass to her companion, taking a sip of her own. "I don’t like to think of myself that way, Kato. I’m not saying I’m always in control when Seven and I make love, but I don’t beg," she contended with a scowl.

Kieran quirked an eyebrow. "Really? That’s too bad. You’d be surprised what a little whimpering might get you," she said without a trace of amusement.

Kathryn gave her a warning glance. "Counselor?"

"I mean it, Kat. A little begging is a good thing. It tells your partner how much you want her, and makes her feel good about being able to deliver. All I ever have to say to B'Elanna is ‘please’, and I guarantee you, she makes it worth my while tenfold," she shivered, thinking about her amorous partner.

Kathryn blushed from her neck to her hairline. "I couldn’t," she insisted, gulping her whiskey impulsively.

Kieran toasted her with her own glass. "Personally, I’d like to think you could," she grinned. "I’d really hate to think you’re so disciplined that even in bed, you’re busy maintaining your command image. That would just be—sad." She sipped her drink thoughtfully. "You deserve the kind of relationship where you can leave all that image stuff with the pips on your dresser. The kind of stress you’re under, Captain, I can actually say you not only deserve it, you need it."

"I’m perfectly content with my sex life, thank you," she defended herself, relaxing visibly, her ire spent.

Kieran waggled her eyebrows. "Content is okay. But you could be breathless. Uninhibited. Wild."

Kathryn chuckled. "You’re starting to sound like a harlot, now, Counselor."

"I’ll gladly own up to that," she said seriously. "I just know I wouldn’t trade what B'Elanna and I share for anything. I’d beg her, any day, any time." Kieran drained her glass. "What say we go find our wives? It’s getting late."

Kathryn considered. "You go ahead. I’m going to have Seven meet me back at our quarters. I think I have some apologizing to do." She winked at her friend. "Maybe even a little begging."

Kieran smiled warmly. "Good idea. Have a great evening, Kat."

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

Chakotay’s invitation to visit was exactly what Kieran needed, in Naomi’s opinion, now that Kieran was able to leave the hospital, and the protective Lieutenant took it upon herself to accept on the Captain’s behalf. Chakotay extended the offer to include the Ktarian, since it became clear to him that Naomi wasn’t about to let the ailing Captain out of her sight.

The ranch sat in the Eastern passes of the Superstition Mountains, a sprawling 25 acre parcel of land covered with saguaro, prickly pear, cholla and barrel cacti, with the deep purple and crimson mountain range for a backdrop. The air smelled of mesquite, creosote, and rosemary, all of which grew in abundance around the ranch. An occasional breeze gathered and carried the scents from the stables, but Kieran didn’t really notice. Her senses were damaged in the explosion on the Sagan and were only slowly reemerging. She had hardly moved from the bench swing that hung over the front porch in the three days since she and Naomi arrived.

Chakotay, being a deeply spiritual man and a sensitive, caring friend, was content to let the former Ship’s Counselor deal with her grief in whatever manner suited her. He sat on the porch railing for hours, silent and patient, eyes trained on the endless Arizona desert. He went about his daily chores, invited Kieran and Naomi to accompany him to feed and water the horses, showed Naomi how to care for the massive beasts, and talked to the soft-nosed creatures as if they understood his gentle greetings. Kieran was too fragile to ride, but she showed a fair bit of interest in the equine residents of the Dutchman’s Mine Ranch.

Chakotay firmly believed the Sonoran desert was a magical, mystical place, inhabited by the sprits of long dead Indian tribes. The Pima, the Papago, the Hohokam, the Anasazi, the Sinagua, were the ancient peoples who had honored and loved the land as much as he did, and managed to wring out a rich cultural existence from the meager offerings of the desert. He was convinced that just existing in that place could be healing for Kieran’s mind and soul, if not her body.

Occasionally, he would notice a creature of interest and point it out to the two women. Over the first few days they had seen a cactus wren, a Harris’ hawk, five jackrabbits, a javelina, and at night, they could hear the yips and yowls of the coyotes. One morning as they walked to the stables, they spotted a Gila monster basking in the morning sun, beaded in black and pink patterns that glistened like obsidian and rose quartz. Kieran squinted her unpatched eye to focus on the shining, chubby lizard, and gasped faintly. "My God," she murmured, "he’s beautiful."

Chakotay smiled. "And he’s a rare sight," he added. "They’re very shy and keep to themselves. This may be only the third one I’ve ever seen. They’re the only poisonous lizard in the world." He paused to admire the lizard which was barely a foot long. "But there’s something you see all the time," he pointed to a subtly moving shape that undulated across the sand and scuttled beneath the palo verde trees and ocotillo plants. "Rattlesnake," he identified the reptile.

Naomi pulled up short, but he lay a reassuring hand on her arm. "They have a bad reputation, but it’s undeserved," he explained.

"Aren’t they dangerous?" Naomi whispered, looking warily at the brown and copper scaled viper as it slithered along.

"Only if you startle them or harass them," Chakotay stated with confidence. "Fact is, we’re the intruders here, and they live in harmony with us until we encroach on their privacy. They’d just as soon avoid us as much as we’d like to avoid them."

"Creepy," Naomi shuddered.

Chakotay grinned at her. "Not at all. They’re actually quite amazing. They live out here with almost no water, in extremes of heat that reach over 115 degrees, and nights can get into the 30’s. Yet they have no internal mechanisms to regulate their body temperature. They rely on their habitat to warm and cool them. You’ll never see them out at the peak heat of summer—they’d die of exposure. They hide in the shade of rocks and ledges, and they come out in the moderate temperatures to hunt. If not for them, the desert would be overrun with vermin. They keep things in balance."

Kieran nodded appreciatively and lay a hand on Naomi’s back. "Just minding their own business," she tried to say, though her words were still garbled and motor control over her speech was tenuous at best.

Naomi was pleased at the decided improvement however, and was gratified that Kieran was at least trying to talk more often. Naomi agreed with the statement, simply to encourage Kieran. "I guess so. But don’t you think he looks scary?"

Naomi was disappointed when Kieran shook her head instead of replying. She pressed on. "They have sinister looking eyes. How would you describe them, KT?"

Kieran’s face clouded momentarily as a shadow passed over her face. "They remind me of a fucking Cardassian," she noted with distaste.

Naomi was startled by the observation and by the venom in Kieran’s voice, and was sorry she had asked. Kieran’s brow furrowed as she thought about the Sagan, and in turn, thought of B'Elanna and of Katie. Her mood darkened visibly and she retreated into herself once more.

"Come on," Chakotay guided them along the path. "Let’s give Mr. Diamondback a wide berth. My horses need fresh hay," he urged them along toward the stables. And Kieran needs a diversion from that line of thought, he noted wisely.

Kieran helped Chakotay pitch fresh hay until she tired, which didn’t take long. Naomi usurped the pitchfork with the excuse that she needed to work off some energy, and Kieran appreciated the lie. Chakotay discreetly overlooked the interplay between the two women, but it had become apparent to him over the past 72 hours that Naomi was completely devoted to Kieran, and while it wasn’t his place to judge, he could see Naomi was losing her sense of priorities.

Kathryn had contacted him the day before the duo arrived, begging him to try to impress upon her wayward daughter how crucial it was becoming for Naomi to return to duty. Kathryn had stretched Naomi’s leave of absence with every loophole, exception, excuse and favor she was owed, but she couldn’t keep her Chief Engineer’s behind covered forever. Chakotay had promised to try to get Naomi to listen to reason.

Now, watching his old friends interact, he knew Naomi was beyond any influence he might have once had. She was painfully obviously in love with Kieran, and would surely balk at any suggestion that she leave the injured Captain. Chakotay felt it was honorable of Naomi to show such loyalty, but a shame that she might sacrifice her brilliant career for what her heart was telling her to do. He sighed as he tossed fresh hay from the loft into the stalls below. He would keep his word to Kathryn, but he doubted his efficacy.

That evening, Chakotay served a southwestern dinner of chili with beans, with heaping stacks of corn bread and glasses of iced tea. "This is what ranchers eat on cattle drives," he explained to his guests as they finished up. "Easy to make on the trail."

Naomi was perplexed. "With replicated protein, why would ranchers still raise and herd cattle?"

Chakotay shrugged. "Not everybody eats replicated food. A lot of traditionalists still eat meat." He scooped up the last of his chili, smiling. "Isn’t your grandmother a traditionalist?"

Naomi nodded. "Yes, but even she doesn’t believe in killing animals for food. She has a replicator."

Chakotay glanced up at Kieran, wondering if she had an opinion. He looked at her expectantly.

"I was married to a Klingon," she struggled over the pronunciation. "They have no social or moral objection to killing animals for food."

"So it doesn’t bother you?" Naomi was stunned. Kieran loved animals, and Naomi had expected her to be appalled at the prospect of eating them.

Kieran peered at her younger friend, a hollow expression in her eyes. "I don’t condemn what is acceptable to an honorable culture. But I don’t embrace the practice myself," she explained with difficulty, but without emotion.

Sensing the wellspring of unspoken emotion behind the stony exterior of his old friend, Chakotay pushed back his chair. "Naomi, could you clean up for me? I want to show Kieran something," he asked.

"Of course," she agreed, wondering what the former Commander wanted to talk to Kieran about.

Kieran left the table, letting Chakotay assist her in standing. He steadied her with his massive arm. Banging through the screen door, the pair exited the ranch house in the fading light. The sun had set but the light still shone over the horizon, and Kieran breathed deeply, trying to detect the smell of the dusty desert that was coming to life around them. She continued to hold Chakotay’s arm, letting him stabilize her. It wasn’t that she was terribly weak, but that she couldn’t quite get used to having one eye. Her depth perception was gone, and she didn’t trust herself to navigate the desert floor without help.

"Thank you for inviting me here, Chakotay," she mustered the courage to try to talk.

"My pleasure," he smiled, squeezing her arm. "I always intended to have you and B'Elanna visit, but like so many other things, I just didn’t get around to asking you."

Kieran nodded in understanding. "Lanna would’ve loved it here."

"Katie would’ve loved the horses. She’d have broken them all in a week," he added, fondly remembering the Captain’s feisty teen-aged daughter.

"Yes, she would have," Kieran swallowed the searing pain that welled in her chest at the memory of Katie Torres.

Chakotay saw how much the comment cost her. "Kieran," he said softly, "Katie knew."

"Knew what?" Kieran fought to keep her voice steady.

"How much you loved her," he said simply.

Kieran drew a shaky breath, nodding. "I just keep thinking I’ll wake up, and she’ll come bursting through the door, fresh from a game of parrises squares," she felt a lone tear betray her control. "But then I realize I’ll never see her again."

Chakotay stopped and put his arms around the woman he had trained to be a commanding officer. He held her while she cried, the agonized sobs silently shaking her, the hurt too deep for sound. Kieran clung to him, unable to do otherwise.

"I miss them," she finally whispered through her tears.

"I know," he said gently, wiping her tears with a thumb. "It’ll get better. I promise," he added, hugging her again.

After a long pause, Kieran composed herself again, and pulled away. "You’re a good man, Chakotay. And my wife adored you."

He grinned. "It was a mutual admiration," he assured her. He paused momentarily, thinking of his former Maquis crewmate, silently honoring her memory. "Kathryn contacted me yesterday," he advised after a long silence. "She asked me to do her a favor."

"Oh?"

They resumed their walk, Kieran holding firmly to the burly ex-Commander’s biceps.

"She asked me to try to convince Naomi to rejoin the Voyager crew. Immediately."

"And what did Naomi say?" Kieran held her breath.

"I haven’t brought up the subject yet. I was going to ask you to talk to her for me," he chuckled. "Kathryn can’t keep her on leave any longer, Kieran. She’s going to have to rejoin her ship or resign her commission." Chakotay paused for effect. "And from the way she looks at you, my friend, I’m afraid she’s going to choose the latter."

Kieran bit her lip. "She’s been a huge help to me. I’ve needed someone, Chakotay. But her career is her life. She can’t be thinking of giving that up."

"Apparently, Kathryn thinks Naomi might be considering it. You know Naomi has always been in love with you."

Kieran snorted indignantly. "Yeah, when she was six, Chakotay. But not since. Not now."

"Maybe it’s because you lost an eye," he said kindly, "so you can’t see it. But trust me on this, Kieran. Naomi would be giving up her career to be with you because she’s in love. Unless you’re ready to contemplate a future with her, you can’t let her do that."

Kieran pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "This can’t be happening. I mean, I’ve loved having her with me—it’s been a tremendous comfort. She’s made me learn to talk again, helped me get to my appointments, she’s fielded all the official inquiries, she even put together the memorial service for B'Elanna and Katie. I couldn’t have done it without her. But I’m not ready to let anyone be with me that way. I don’t know if I ever will be again."

"I’m sure when you’re ready, there’ll be plenty of opportunities for you. But if you’re not ready now, you have to convince Naomi to go back."

Kieran sighed. She felt the weight of knowing what she had to do, and the undercurrent of fear associated with losing her support system. She dug her toe into the sandy desert, considering, but knew there was no argument to make. "Agreed," she said reluctantly. "I’ll talk to her. Thanks."

"No, thank you for getting me off the hook with Kathryn. Hey look—" he pointed to a sturdy saguaro cactus, where a Great Horned owl sat, surveying the darkening desert for a rodent meal. "There’s a sight."

Just then the giant bird of prey spread its wings and leapt from it thorny perch in pursuit of a prairie dog. The amount of air displaced by its massive wings stirred a breeze around them. Fierce yellow eyes pinpointed the prey, and talons found purchase.

Kieran had to turn away from the repellant sound of the helpless creature being dismembered. It made her think of the crew of the Sagan.

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

Kathryn, Seven of Nine, and Naomi Wildman sat in the Captain’s ready room aboard Voyager-C, a galaxy class ship that bore little resemblance to the original Voyager. Kathryn and Seven were trying to reason with Naomi, who was having none of it. Despite her promise to Chakotay, Kieran could not bring herself to confront Naomi, or to ask her to leave, and so she had left the task to Kathryn and Seven.

"I’m not asking you to choose between your career and Kieran," Kathryn assured her adopted daughter.

"That’s exactly what you’re doing, K-Mom," Naomi argued. "You’re forcing me to give up my career to follow what my heart tells me I should do."

"No," Kathryn responded immediately, "I’m asking you to do what’s best for Kieran, Naomi. She begged me to convince you to stay in Starfleet."

Naomi looked like she’d been slapped. "She’s—sending me away?"

Seven lay a comforting hand on Naomi’s leg. "She is trying to protect you, Naomi. The loss of B'Elanna and Katie is too new and too harsh. Kieran isn’t prepared for anything emotional or romantic with you."

Naomi stood up, alarmed. "But I never said—I didn’t—ask her for anything at all," she protested. "I’ve just tried to be there for her. Borg-Mom, K-Mom, you’ve got to believe me. I never even implied I wanted anything more than what Kieran has always given me. God, did she say that?"

Kathryn regarded her daughter with the tenderest of sympathies. "Honey, you haven’t said anything, and neither has she, but your face shows what you’re trying so hard to deny. You love her. She’s not oblivious to it, and she isn’t capable of returning your feelings. So she wants you to rejoin Voyager. It’s good advice," Kathryn smiled sadly.

"But she needs me," Naomi’s fight had all gone out of her.

"No," Seven replied firmly. "She needs to look inside herself and find the strength for and the purpose of carrying on. If she accepts what you would so willingly give her, she will be living for you and not for herself. Let her regain her sense of who she is, Naomi. Let her find her identity again, one without B'Elanna and Katie. Let her heal."

Kathryn reached up and took her beautiful young daughter’s hand. "Grandma Gretchen once told me, ‘Kathryn, if you try to pick an apple before it’s ready, you’ll bruise the fruit in wrestling it loose from the tree. But if you wait until the apple is ripe and ready, it will drop into the palm of your hand as pretty and perfect as you please.’ Timing is everything, Naomi. If it’s right for you both, it will happen someday. Be patient. She’s been through so much."

Naomi smiled sadly. "I know she has. I want to help her. And I’ve been patient. I’ve loved her since I was six. That’s over 20 years. I’d say that’s pretty patient."

Seven added her two cents. "Then a bit more time isn’t such a sacrifice, if you’ve waited that long," she said logically.

Naomi frowned, flopping back down into her chair. "All right. You win."

Kathryn breathed a sigh of relief. "Excellent. Then let’s say our good-byes and be on our way. Starfleet wants us to ship out in three days."

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

Although Kieran Thompson was released from Starfleet Medical on total disability, she was still under treatment, but was well enough to be seen on an outpatient basis. She was assigned Captain’s Quarters at Starfleet Command, where she would remain until she was either returned to active duty or discharged for permanent impairment. Her briefings with Starfleet all pointed to the possibility that she would make a full recovery and be assigned a new ship, but it really depended upon her physical and psychological progress.

When she wasn’t in physical therapy, speech therapy, counseling, or seeing various doctors, dentists and biophysicists, she took it upon herself to keep an eye on Gretchen Janeway. Geejay was in her first semester at the Academy, and Kieran knew the young woman was smarting over the death of Katie Torres. Kieran suspected her daughter and Geejay had been lovers, but out of respect for their privacy, she had never asked either girl.

Kieran had made Geejay understand that as long as Kieran was at Starfleet Headquarters, Geejay could call on her anytime, night or day. Kieran took her custodial role one step further, by meeting all of Geejay’s instructors to keep tabs on the cadet, and to reassure herself that her goddaughter was in good hands.

She met Geejay for lunch every Friday to keep herself connected to the cadet, if for no other reason than to be able to tell Kathryn, Seven, and Naomi how Geejay fared in school. Voyager had been gone several months, and the trio was very concerned about their cadet. Geejay was almost finished with her first semester, and despite whatever grief she felt over Katie’s death, she was doing quite well, Kieran decided.

This particular Friday, lunch had been brief, as Geejay had a study group to meet with. Kieran said goodbye and left the cafeteria. As she strolled along the main corridor of the student center, she stopped in front of a glass display case where her picture was displayed, along with a photo of the basketball team from her Senior year. She shook her head, realizing that she looked almost exactly like the woman in the uniform, now that her head had been shaved for repeated surgical procedures. She caught her reflection in the glass, astonished at how natural her artificial eye looked, and surprised at how good her vision was through the ocular implant.

"Captain Thompson?" a young woman held out her hand, letting Kieran shake it. "So good to see you again, Sir," she smiled up at the taller woman. "You’re looking much better," she added.

Kieran absently wondered what that meant, then ran her hand over her scalp. "Oh, yeah, my hair is growing back," she acknowledged. "Good to see you again—ah—" Kieran racked her brain for the woman’s name.

"Jamison Phelps," she filled in the blank. "Jamie, to my friends."

"I’m sorry," Kieran continued to shake her hand. "I’m still having difficulty with my short term memory." It dawned on her that Jamie was one of Geejay’s professors, and that’s how they had met before.

"I was just going to grab a cup of coffee, Captain," she withdrew her hand.

"Please, call me Kieran," Kieran urged, feeling self-conscious.

"Would you join me? For coffee?"

Kieran started to refuse, but something in the anthropology instructor’s deep brown eyes stopped her. "Sure. I’m free until three o’clock," she checked her wrist chronometer.

Jamie smiled winningly. "Wow, a Starfleet officer who doesn’t talk in military time," she chuckled.

"Well, I’m out of uniform, so all that military crap goes out the window when the pips come off. So how’s Geejay doing in your class?"

They walked through the serving line and selected their coffees. "Geejay? Is that what you call Gretchen Janeway?"

Kieran nodded. "Prevents confusion. Her grandmother is also named Gretchen."

"She’s doing much better recently, though she struggled at first. I think she’s one of those techno-heads, and anthro is a major diversion from her interests."

"Techno-head?" Kieran slid into a chair.

"You know, one of those cadets that lives and breathes math and physics—speaks in binary code—couldn’t care less about social sciences," she waved her spoon expressively, then stirred in her cream and sugar.

Kieran chuckled softly. "That’s Geejay. But she gets it honestly. Have you met her mothers?"

Jamie’s eyes widened. "I wish. I teach a whole week on Voyager’s social dynamic, but I’ve never met any of the crew until now. By the way, it’s an honor to have coffee with a legend," she hoisted her cup in salute.

Kieran actually blushed. "I’m no legend, Professor Phelps. I’m just a Ship’s Counselor who was fortunate enough to serve with legendary people. They took it upon themselves to foster my career, and helped me get promoted to Captain," she explained humbly. "If you’d like, I can arrange for you to meet Seven and Kathryn. They won’t disappoint you. And Chakotay is supposed to visit me in a couple of weeks. He’d be glad to meet an attractive young woman," Kieran supplied.

Jamie was taken aback by the self-effacing manner of the stubble-haired Captain. "I haven’t been disappointed meeting you. In fact, I was hoping I could convince you to lecture in my intro class."

"What did you have in mind?" Kieran sipped her coffee nervously.

"I’d give you some basic information from the class and you could discuss the concepts using examples from your experiences aboard Voyager. Then the students could ask questions," she explained hopefully.

Kieran considered the request. "Well, okay, but on one condition."

"Shoot," Jamie grinned triumphantly.

"You agree to go over my notes with me before I speak," Kieran toyed with her cup. "I’ll make dinner," she added for incentive. "I just don’t trust myself to go before your class without a little editorial assistance."

"Deal," Jamie stuck out her hand. "I really appreciate it. The students will be in total awe."

"I seriously doubt it, but thanks for the vote of confidence."

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

Kieran couldn’t get Jamison Phelps out of her mind for the next several days, and she couldn’t figure out why. Just when she decided it didn’t really matter, it occurred to her. She had called up Jamie’s records from the Starfleet database, and listened to a recording of a lecture she’d given about Voyager’s time in the Delta Quadrant. As the articulate young professor waved her hands excitedly, she looked right into the video scanner. Her hair was the same length and color as B'Elanna’s, and Jamie had thick, dark eyebrows, reminiscent of the Klingon-human hybrid’s. Kieran was startled as the recognition hit her. The acknowledgement gave way to the overwhelming realization of how alone she was in the world, and just how deeply she missed and loved her wife.

Katie and B'Elanna had been gone almost eight months, along with over two hundred crewmembers from the Sagan. Kieran felt the familiar numbness trying to assert itself, and ultimately failing this time. Finally, she felt it all—the endless, enveloping emptiness of senseless and premature death, black and sickening and suffocating. It doubled her over and knocked the wind from her lungs, driving her to her knees. She crawled to her workstation, dragged herself to the console, and placed an emergency communication to Deanna Troi.

Deanna took one look at the tortured face on her viewscreen and said "Kieran, stay right where you are. I’m on my way."

Kieran never would fathom the enormity of the grief that came flooding over her that night, and vaguely wondered if there was any limit to the number of tears she could cry. Deanna held her while she vented it, like a damaged nacelle venting plasma. Kieran cried herself to sleep eventually, and Deanna remained with her, letting the devastated Captain sleep in her arms like a child.

It was the first nightmareless sleep Kieran had had since she had regained consciousness after the destruction of the Sagan. Deanna managed to kick off her uniform boots and sink down into Kieran’s bed, pulling the limp and exhausted Captain along with her. Kieran slept with her face buried in Deanna’s shoulder, just as she had slept with her face hidden in B'Elanna’s shoulder on many occasions. Deanna draped her arms lightly around Kieran’s back, soothing her hands gently over her when she stirred, lulling her back to sleep.

Deanna Troi had never exactly discounted the possibility of a relationship with a woman, but she was a little startled by the tenderness and warmth she felt, holding Kieran Thompson. She scolded herself inwardly for even thinking about a tryst with a patient, though in Kieran’s case, they had been friends and colleagues for many years, and the patient relationship had come much later. She had always enjoyed Kieran’s sense of humor, and their common background as former Ship’s Counselors gave them a connection she shared with few people. She also knew that the timing of a romantic entanglement would be abysmal for Kieran, and resigned herself to doing what was best for the fragile Captain’s mental state. She laughed at herself quietly, thinking how unprofessional it would be to start something with Kieran, and regretted that there would likely be no opportunity in the future.

When Kieran could finally discuss her break down two days later, Deanna asked what had triggered the emotional overload.

Kieran frowned shamefacedly and said "Jamison Phelps."

"The professor?" Deanna was surprised.

"I met her because of Geejay. We had coffee. She asked me to lecture her anthro class, and I agreed. I found myself feeling—attracted to her," Kieran recalled miserably. "I’m so ashamed. It’s because she looks a bit like B'Elanna. That’s why I’m attracted to her," she explained bitterly.

Deanna smiled warmly at her friend. "Of course it is. There’s nothing wrong with that, Kieran. It’s good that you can feel attraction at all, for whatever reason."

"But B'Elanna has only been gone a few months. I mean, how disloyal is it to be thinking along those lines so soon?" Kieran demanded, disgusted with herself.

"You lost your wife and your child. That’s a lot of space in your life to try to fill. Nature abhors a vacuum. Of course you’re going to look for ways to fill the space. It’s human nature. So don’t beat yourself up over it. Now, if you were telling me you’re in love with Jamison Phelps, I’d be worried. But a passing attraction shouldn’t concern you," Deanna assured her.

Kieran inclined her head in mute acceptance. Then switching gears, she mentioned "I—I wanted to thank you for the other night. I really needed you. Thanks for dropping everything to come over."

Deanna smiled. "It took you long enough to finally break, Kieran. You really can be a hard ass," she teased.

Kieran shrugged. "You marry a Klingon, you need a thick skin. You know what kind of temper most Klingons have—especially women," she laughed. "B'Elanna could throw a fit that would outlast the Qianian Plague."

Deanna chuckled. "Klingon men aren’t much better," she confided. "It’s what kept me from marrying Worf."

"Pansy," Kieran chided her.

Deanna pretended to be offended. "No name calling," she reprimanded the grinning Captain. "You know, my feelings are a little hurt, in all seriousness," she continued.

Kieran winced. "Why? What’d I do now?"

Deanna’s face broke out in a broad smile. "Everybody knows your first glimmer of attraction after being widowed is supposed to be directed at your therapist," she waggled her eyebrows playfully.

Kieran chuckled at her friend. "Transference is so cliché, Deanna. I refuse to be predictable."

"Ah, so you were consciously repressing your attraction to me," she concluded smugly.

Kieran grinned wickedly. "Not necessarily. Maybe I just kept my lurid desires to myself, Counselor," Kieran leaned forward on her elbows. "For all you know, I lie awake fantasizing about you every night."

Deanna blushed at the intimate tone of Kieran’s voice, but knew the lanky Captain was taunting her. "You should be so lucky," she retorted saucily.

"Yeah," Kieran agreed, "I should."

"Well, that’s all for today, but if something comes up, call me."

Kieran nodded and stood to leave. As she moved toward the door she sported an evil grin. She grabbed Deanna’s shoulders, took the stunned Counselor in her arms, dipped her low to the ground and planted a lingering, passionate kiss on her lips.

Deanna came up for air, seeing stars.

Kieran smoothed her uniform, smirking. "Transference complete," she announced, sashaying out the door.

Deanna Troi steadied herself on the edge of her desk, shaking her head in disbelief. "She’s incorrigible," she laughed.

____________

Captain Kathryn Janeway had spent a lazy evening in bed with Seven of Nine, apologizing for her abominable behavior earlier in the day. They lay together in an intimate tangle, resting from their exertions, breathing heavily and waiting for their vision to clear.

Seven smiled through her exhaustion. "Kathryn, Naomi will be home shortly. She is going to catch us in bed."

Kathryn chuckled softly, too relaxed to muster any sense of urgency. "She’s old enough to understand her mothers need some time alone, once in awhile, darling," Kathryn kissed Seven’s fingers, each in turn.

"After you scolded me for teasing you about sex, you are going to tell me you aren’t embarrassed at the notion of explaining to Naomi what we’ve been doing in bed so early?"

Kathryn sighed contentedly. "You’re right. Let’s get up," she groaned as she stretched the stiffness from her limbs, legs casually draped around Seven’s thighs. She glanced at the chronometer. "She’s pretty late. Would you hand me my comm badge?"

Seven reached over and plucked the metallic device from the nightstand, tossing it to her spouse. Kathryn depressed the communicator. "Janeway to Naomi Wildman."

No response.

"Naomi, this is K-Mom. Please reply," her voice took on a note of urgency.

Seven leapt out of bed and had already pulled her biosuit on. "Something is wrong. Hail Tom and Harry."

"Janeway to Lieutenant Kim. Harry, what’s going on down there?"

The silence was deafening.

"Janeway to Paris."

As the dead air hung between them, Kathryn’s brows drew tightly together. "Janeway to Tuvok. Harry, Tom and Naomi have disappeared on Restid Three. I can’t raise them."

"Understood," Tuvok’s calm, reassuring response came back to her. "My security team will have a report in ten minutes."

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

Seriah Kim gracefully bowed to the audience, accepting their raucous applause of her solo. Harry stood in the front row, his parents on either side of him, proudly smiling up at the stage where his wife, radiant in the mid-afternoon sun, smiled shyly at her fans. The ovation had lasted the better part of two minutes when the crowd finally sat down again, though shouts of "Brava!" rang out across the park.

She’s magnificent, he thought to himself, his face aching from the perpetual grin he seemed to wear. Talented, gorgeous—and mine. I wish every woman that ever rejected me could be here right now. That’s my wife. She loves me. She chose me, just when I thought no one ever would. Look at her. Could she be more beautiful? Even Mom and Dad approve, which is a miracle in itself. They genuinely love her. God, please let the baby be as perfect as she is.

Harry smiled over at his mother, who nodded and took his hand, squeezing it firmly. "An amazing girl," she whispered as the next piece began.

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

Tom Paris patted his bulging stomach contentedly, sleepy from the sheer indulgence of a good meal. B'Elanna could really cook when she set her mind to it, and Tom loved coming home to a good dinner and a quiet house. He wondered vaguely if Kieran might want custody of Katie, then banished the thought. His son, Harry Kim Paris, was convinced Katie Torres walked on water, and would never get over it if Katie moved out of the Paris’ house. And Tom had to admit that he adored Katie. If the girl had resembled Kieran in any regard, it might have been harder to warm to her, but she was a carbon copy of B'Elanna. The only time Tom had to think about Kieran Thompson was on the rare occasion when Voyager came to the shipyards or Kieran took leave, which suited him just fine.

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

Jamison Phelps tucked her hair behind her ears, daintily wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin Kieran handed to her, and took a prim swallow of white wine. "I think this explanation of the Prime Directive is outstanding," she scrolled through the PADD of notes Kieran had put together for her lecture to Jamie’s class. "I especially like that you did some of your own research, Kieran. I didn’t mention this vein of research, but it’s perfect for explaining the basis of non-interference in other cultures."

Kieran grinned at her dinner guest. "Glad you approve. I remembered Ruth Benedict from my own studies. Oh, I know, that was eons ago," she joked. "But I liked the way she used the metaphor of a cup to represent the embodiment of cultural life for a people, and interference as a means of breaking the cup, and the cultural identity leaking away. To me, that’s exactly why Starfleet adheres to the Prime Directive—to preserve every civilization’s cultural cup."

Jamie smiled warmly at the Captain. "You’re a natural at this. Maybe you should consider teaching until you’re ready to return to duty."

Kieran laughed, pouring more wine for her guest and topping off her own. "I’m too busy. I spend six hours every day in some kind of therapy or another," she advised, sipping her drink. "Afterward, I come home and collapse in my hot tub."

"Nice," Jamie commented on the wine. "This is one I’ve never had."

"It’s from Qian, in the Delta Quadrant," Kieran explained. "I was saving it for a special occasion, but I lost most of my personal effects in the battle at the wormhole, and it seemed silly to hoard this any longer. I lost a lot of bottles of wine that I should have enjoyed when I had the chance. If I had, I wouldn’t be pouting about losing them now."

Jamie looked at the glass with newfound appreciation. "I—don’t know what to say. This wine must be priceless, Kieran."

"Probably," Kieran agreed, chuckling. "Never really occurred to me to get it appraised. I just like the way it tastes," she admitted simply. "And money never mattered to me. Never will, now. B'Elanna’s life insurance finally paid up, and I’m pretty well set for life. That’s a hell of a way to find security, though," she stated with a bitter edge in her voice.

Jamie touched the older woman’s sleeve. "I’m truly sorry for your loss, Captain. I can’t begin to imagine."

"Don’t try," Kieran patted her leg. "It’s okay. I wouldn’t want anyone else to know what this feels like. Not even those fucking Cardassians." Kieran tossed back the last of her wine, cleared the dinner dishes and placed them in the recycling unit.

"Your quarters are very nice," Jamie tried to change the subject. "I guess being a Captain has its perks. You really have a hot tub?"

Kieran nodded. "On the balcony. It’s a whirlpool, too, though, and they gave it to me for use in my therapy. It’s not a perk—it’s medical equipment."

"What sort of therapy are you under? You seem fine."

Kieran snorted. "Tell that to my physical therapist. She needs a good laugh. Before the accident, I was an excellent athlete. I could best just about anyone in Velocity and I played basketball and softball. I barely have the hand-eye coordination to walk, now. The whirlpool is for my right arm and shoulder. They were so severely damaged, the doctors on DS9 were going to amputate. Thank God, they consulted with Starfleet Medical first, and Kate Pulaski got them to leave my arm alone. I’ve had seven surgeries on the arm, alone. I can use it now, but it’s weak, and I can’t get used to the way my artificial eye tracks things. It’s quicker than my real one ever was, and more accurate. It’s a relearning process," she explained, rejoining her companion on the couch.

Jamie studied her closely. "I can’t tell the difference, honestly. Which eye is real?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"The left one is mine. The right one is cybernetic. I have more artificial parts than a Borg drone," she joked, "just none of the obvious facial hardware."

Jamie absently touched Kieran’s cheek below her ocular implant. "I can feel some of the wiring," she pressed lightly, "but you’d never know in a million years, Kieran. You’re not self-conscious about it, are you?"

"Not really," Kieran decided. "For all intents and purposes, it’s my eye. When I cry, tears come out of both sets of tear ducts. I can see. And the gut-wrenching headaches have finally stopped, so I’m happy as a clam about that." She poured herself another glass of wine. "I’m getting way ahead of you, Professor," she inclined her head toward Jamie’s full glass.

Jamie grinned. "I didn’t know it was a contest."

"Listen," Kieran took the delicate hand of her guest. "I’m sorry to be such a rotten host. I haven’t had a social life since I was reassigned here, and I’ve forgotten how to make conversation. I sound like my great-grandmother used to sound, talking about my medical problems and all the people I know who’ve died. Just ignore me. Tell me about yourself."

Jamie drew a tentative breath. "I don’t mind. You’ve been through one of the most horrific events in the history of the Federation. The media is scrambling to publish books about it, Hollywood is cranking out three different movies about it, it’s on every news broadcast, and it’s all the students talk about. You probably have a lot to get off your chest."

Kieran shrugged. "Life goes on. I have to stop reliving it sometime. So, like I said, tell me about yourself."

Jamie took a long sip of wine, thinking about what to tell her new friend.

They talked late into the night, split a second bottle of wine, and ended up in the hot tub, giggling and naked. When Jamison Phelps slid across the spa and into Kieran’s arms, they kissed only briefly before Kieran broke away from the young professor. "Jamie," she said reluctantly, "you—um, you look a little bit like my wife. I’m afraid that has a lot to do with why I’m attracted to you."

Jamie lifted her lips to Kieran’s again, but Kieran wasn’t kissing her back. "Is that a problem for you?" she finally asked.

"Not really, but it doesn’t seem—fair—to you. I felt like I should tell you," Kieran admitted.

"Well, thanks for your honesty. But frankly, I don’t care why you’re attracted to me—as long as you are attracted to me."

"I’m not sure, either," Kieran added, "how I’m going to feel about—this—in the morning," she advised haltingly. "I haven’t—I mean, B'Elanna and I—I was married for a long time."

Jamie tried to ease out of Kieran’s arms, but Kieran held her there, wanting an honest response. "Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea," she met Kieran’s soft brown eyes apologetically. "I don’t want to make things harder for you than they already are."

Kieran shook her head. "That’s not the problem. It’s just—I don’t have anything to give someone else right now. It’s only been about eight months since B'Elanna died. We were together over twenty years, counting the time we courted. I’m not in a place, emotionally, to feel much beyond what is instinctual."

Jamie smiled faintly. "You mean lust?"

Kieran grinned shyly, nodding. "You seem like a perfectly lovely young woman, one who deserves a partner that can actually give you back more than just a sexual liaison. I don’t want to make you think I’m ready for anything—substantial. To be perfectly blunt, I’m not sure I ever want to be married again. The climate we find ourselves in, in Starfleet—it’s not particularly conducive to safe and secure relationships. I’m not sure I could survive if I lost another person I love so much."

Jamie hugged Kieran to her, thinking how good it felt to touch her. "It’s a risky proposition, being a Starfleet officer. I don’t envy you the danger posed by your career. I thought about entering myself, long ago, but my family already lost my other siblings, and my folks couldn’t take losing their last child. So I picked a safer career. I get my Starfleet experience vicariously from my students. It’s not as exciting, but it will have to do."

Kieran hugged her back, not really wanting to let her go, but not feeling any need for anything more. "Funny. My folks never discouraged me from pursuing a career with Starfleet, even though we lost my sister when I was a cadet. I guess they were trying to be supportive, but deep down they must have been terrified. Especially when Voyager got lost in the Delta Quadrant. But they lived long enough to see me return and to see me become a Captain. That’s all that matters now. My God, they loved Katie so much. I guess it’s good they passed on before her. They’d be devastated to know she was killed. B'Elanna, they were less thrilled with," she chuckled softly.

"You know," Jamie touched her face gently, "I’m not looking to drag you to the altar anytime soon. I barely know you. And I recently broke off a six-year relationship, so I’m not really ready for anything ‘substantial’ as you put it, either. If you’re comfortable with—this—" she nodded her head to indicate their state of undress, "I’m okay with it."

Kieran gave her a look of gratitude, mingled with sadness and uncertainty. "Okay then," she murmured, letting the younger woman kiss her again.

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

The day after Kieran slept with Jamison Phelps, she stopped wearing her wedding ring. A week later, she filed a petition to change her name back to Thompson. She wasn’t in love with Jamie, and she doubted she ever could be, but having someone to talk to every day made a world of difference in her recovery.

Naomi Wildman had made an even bigger world of difference in Kieran’s life. Despite her extensive duties aboard Voyager, she faithfully contacted Kieran via subspace three nights a week, and they continued to work on Kieran’s speech therapy together. For Naomi, it was a means of maintaining continuity in Kieran’s life. For Kieran, it was a lifeline in an otherwise bleak looking future.

Kieran’s physical therapist sent her to a personal trainer at the Academy Recreation Center to work on conditioning and strengthening her right arm and shoulder. Her neurological injuries and subsequent coma had left her muscles partially atrophied and the tissues that had been destroyed and replaced needed to be educated to perform as the lost nerve and muscle had behaved. The Rec Center staff included graduate students from Starfleet Medical, who helped Starfleet personnel with rehabilitation, weight training, and physical conditioning. They had had so many crewmembers from the Sagan, their rolls had been full for months. Kieran’s orthopedic doctor had to pull some strings to get Kieran assigned.

Kieran made a point of wearing civilian workout clothes to the gym, careful to avoid anything that hinted at her rank. She knew a student might be intimidated by her status, and didn’t want the sessions to be awkward. Without her trademark long braided hair, most of the people who might recognize her wouldn't be able to place her face. She was amused when one of her former crewmembers walked right past her without realizing who she was. Given the extensive nature of her injuries, and her shame over losing the Sagan, she preferred her anonymity.

Kieran reported to the assignment desk and handed the prescription PADD to the attendant. He scrolled through the information without comment. "Okay, your trainer is going to be Eilish MacDougal. She’s in her residency, so she really knows her stuff. From the looks of your history, you’re going to need an expert," he noted sympathetically. "Have a seat over there, and she’ll be right with you."

Kieran waited, trying not to be impatient, but it was a challenge. She was eager to get back her physical prowess, but more than that, she was humiliated when her fine motor skills failed, causing her to spill drinks, drop small objects, and miskey commands into her work console. She was pleasantly surprised when Eilish came promptly, a fair skinned, red-haired woman in her mid-twenties with hazel eyes and an infectious grin.

"Hi," she held out her hand, "I’m Eilish."

"KT," Kieran replied, shaking the proffered hand.

"I’ve looked over your medical history, and it looks like we’ve got a lot of work to do, KT. I tend to push my patients pretty hard. Think you’re up to it?"

Kieran smirked. "Bring it on."

Two hours later, Kieran was panting and hanging onto her gym shorts, an obvious sign of fatigue, as she sucked wind. Eilish hid her amusement behind her hand as she wiped her brow with a hand towel.

"Not bad for your first session, KT," she tried to console the older woman. "C’mon. I’ll buy you an electrolyte smoothie at the snack bar. My treat."

Kieran blinked the sweat from her eyes. "Let me shower first. I stink. I wouldn’t want to offend everyone there," she said between gulps of air.

Eilish nodded. "Ask for me at the sign-in desk when you’re ready."

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

Kieran actually found herself connecting with the young red-head, and couldn’t help noticing that Eilish bore a striking resemblance to Naomi Wildman. Eilish had played basketball for the Academy, and when she moved on to graduate studies, she traveled with the team as their sports medic. She apparently knew little about the history of the Starfleet Academy team, however, because she didn’t seem to recognize Kieran as the leader of the only Academy team to ever win the ICAA Championship.

Before long, Kieran forgot to hide her identity, and was swapping basketball stories with Eilish enthusiastically. Eilish was laughing at some prank Kieran had pulled while in the Academy, and looked the stubble-haired woman up and down, trying to place her face. "I know I should recognize you, but I don’t," she said, chagrined. "I’ll have to look at the team photos in the trophy case and find you. What year did you graduate?"

Kieran flipped the paper from her straw at the young woman. "Like I’m going to tell you how old I am."

"Why not?" Eilish flipped the paper back, giggling.

"Because you’d fall over in a dead faint if you knew," Kieran laughed. "I’m older than dirt. Older than God. Old enough to be your mother."

"Age is a state of mind," Eilish shrugged. "Besides, you don’t look old at all. But don’t tell me. I’ll find your picture eventually. I like a challenge."

Kieran smirked. "Yeah, you sure seemed to enjoy torturing me today. Every inch of me hurts."

Eilish patted herself on the back. "I’m the best," she boasted. "And I know the perfect prescription for those aches. Let’s go to Barfleet Grille and have a beer and a burger. Good for all that ails you."

Kieran nodded. "Sounds great. I’m starving."

They ate cheeseburgers and drank Moosehead beer until they were tipsy, trading stories about their Academy hijinks and having a good laugh at each other’s memories. Eilish was quite captivated by her new charge, and was secretly impressed with the way Kieran had given her best in trying to follow the workout regimen. Most of Eilish’s clients tuckered out after the first hour, but Kieran had been a trooper.

When the bill came, Eilish tried to snag it, but Kieran snatched it away and insisted on paying it. "No, really, let me get it. My student loans are paid and I have to figure out a way to spend my wife’s life insurance policy," she joked, then immediately slapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh, my God, I’m sorry. That was so tasteless," she apologized.

Eilish’s face fell. "Your wife died? Oh, KT, I’m so sorry. You must have been on the Sagan, weren’t you? That explains why your were injured so badly," she was clearly stunned. "I thought we’d already treated everyone that was left aboard."

"Listen," Kieran begged, "forget that. I was having such a good time laughing with you, I don’t want to spoil it," she pleaded.

Eilish made a quick recovery. "Okay. So let’s go back to your place," she took Kieran’s hand and pulled her to a standing position, preparing to leave the bar.

It was Kieran’s turn to be stunned. "You—you want to go home with me?" she asked, disbelieving. "Eilish—don’t you think I’m a bit old for you?" she reminded the girl as they stepped out into the San Francisco chill air.

Eilish insinuated herself into Kieran’s arms, putting her own around the taller woman’s neck. "Look, KT. I like you. You seem to like me. I look at you, and I don’t see your age. I see a very cute, very funny woman that I’d like to sleep with. Is that such a bad thing?" she demanded, her face a mere breath away from Kieran’s.

Kieran closed the distance between them, kissing her soundly. What the hell, she decided.

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

Deanna Troi was immeasurably amused by Kieran’s dual affair, pronounced her newfound promiscuity "healthy", and encouraged her old friend to come clean and tell Eilish MacDougal that she was, in fact, Captain Kieran Thompson. Kieran refused, saying that they had a good time, and that she didn’t want to change anything in their dynamic. Deanna had shaken her head and called Kieran a coward, but Kieran was unmoved.

After another six months, Kieran’s status was upgraded to partial disability, and she was returned to part-time duty at Starfleet Command. She learned that she was to be Captain of a new Supremacy class ship, and was instructed to begin selecting her crew for the vessel, which was as yet unnamed. She spent four hours a day poring over service records of applicants who were itching to get aboard the brand new class of starship, and was gratified to see how many of her former crew from the Sagan had applied. It felt good to her to be back at a desk in her tiny office at headquarters, though she found she tired easily.

Her speech therapist released her from treatment, with effusive praise for Naomi Wildman’s careful tutelage that had helped Kieran recover her ability to speak completely. Kieran was equally impressed with the Ktarian’s discipline. Even when Voyager was in a tight spot, and Naomi pulled double shifts, she still took the time to contact Kieran and work with her. Although a lot of their time was spent gossiping and giggling, Kieran had somehow avoided telling Naomi about Eilish and Jamie. She doubted Naomi would find that information acceptable.

Despite having two lovers, Kieran found herself missing her friends, and more acutely, Naomi. She found it especially puzzling that after she made love with Jamie or with Eilish, she often felt particularly lonely, and found herself longing to spend time with her Ktarian friend. There was an ease and a comfort in her interaction with Naomi that never developed with Jamie or with Eilish. Kieran knew it was a lot to expect, considering that she’d known Naomi for nearly two decades, but still, with either of her new companions, there were things that were missing. On more than one occasion, she had even cancelled dates with one or the other of them, and stayed barricaded in her quarters to contact Naomi. It always cheered her up to talk to the ebullient strawberry blonde.

Afternoons were spent twice weekly with Deanna, and the other three days she spent at the gym, letting Eilish whip her into shape. Her physical therapy was almost complete, and her psychological counseling was more a formality than a true necessity. Deanna lorded Kieran’s lovers over the Captain with a playfulness that drove Kieran to distraction. Truth be told, she was feeling guilty about the two women. Neither one knew about the other, and although she had made no promises to either woman, something about the omission felt wrong. She told Deanna so, and Deanna told her to tell them both, if it bothered her. After dating both women for so long, Kieran was so accustomed to the deception, she really didn’t want to rock the boat.

Kieran didn’t have to do any explaining, however. Eilish was spending the night at Kieran’s one Saturday, and they had just climbed out of the hot tub.

"Damn," Eilish swore. "I dropped my clothes in a puddle. KT, have you got something I can wear?"

Kieran grinned at her pink and naked lover. "I like what you’ve got on now," she waggled her eyebrows.

"Nasty," Eilish flipped water at her. "I mean it."

"Sure. Go grab my robe. It’s in my closet in the bedroom," she offered without thinking.

"Thanks. Be right back," Eilish trotted off through the balcony door and down the hall. "Computer, lights," she ordered, tapping the closet, which slid open obligingly. She scanned the hanging clothes, searching for the terry cloth robe she had seen Kieran wearing, but only found uniforms. On the last uniform, she stopped, mouth agape. The collar sported four pips, where Kieran had obviously forgotten to remove them. "Holy shit!" she slapped her forehead. "How could I not figure out who the hell she is?" Eilish fingered the pips, swallowing hard. "Kieran Thompson. I should’ve looked at those damned basketball pictures, like I told her I would. Oh my God," she groaned. "I’ve been horking a Captain!"

She slumped down on the bed, wet and naked, too shocked to move. Eventually, Kieran came looking for her. "Hey, did you get lost?" she asked gently as she came in. Her eyes went from Eilish to the open closet, where the offending uniform hung, pips gleaming. "Oh," she said, realizing the jig was up. "Did I mention I was the Captain of the Sagan?" she offered lamely, trying to smile.

Eilish had a wounded expression in her eyes. "How could you not tell me?" she accused.

Kieran went to her, trying to soothe her. "Maybe because when I’m with you, I don’t think about who I am," she contended. "I can forget all the shitty things that happened. I’m just some older jock you can hang out with, pump iron with, sleep with—I didn’t want to be Captain Kieran Thompson anymore. Can you understand that?"

"I feel like such a fool," she wiped impatiently at her eyes. "This must have been such a big joke to you," she hung her head. "I’m so embarrassed."

Kieran lifted her chin with a finger, meeting her eyes. "Why? Why would you be embarrassed?"

Eilish pushed her hand away, jumped up, and went in search of her clothes. "You’re a Captain, for Christ’s sake," she stormed down the hall, Kieran in pursuit. "I’ve never done anything or seen anything. I haven’t been on a first contact. I’ve never been in any battles, outsmarted any aliens with evil intentions—I’m just so ordinary. And you’ve acted like I was interesting and intelligent and charming. How can I not feel like a fool?"

Kieran grabbed her arm, trying to restrain her. "But you are interesting and intelligent and charming, Eilish. It wasn’t an act."

Eilish tugged on her wet clothes, found her shoes and pulled them on. "Right. After cruising the galaxy with geniuses like Seven of Nine and military strategists like Kathryn Janeway, I’m the most astounding conversationalist you can think of," she snapped sarcastically. "You must have had quite a laugh at my expense, knowing I had no clue who you are."

Kieran straightened her sweatshirt, staring at the ground. "I thought you were going to look me up in the trophy case, Eilish. I thought you had. I just assumed you knew and didn’t give a damn," she argued. "I’ve had a lot of fun with you. You’re a wonderful woman. We seem to enjoy each other’s company. Is that criminal?"

Eilish pulled on her windbreaker, tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. "What’s criminal," she bit her lip, trying not to cry, "is that I was starting to think, just maybe, we had some kind of future together. I was starting to think this was something more than a casual affair. Now I know better," she spun on her heel and made her way to the door.

Just then, Jamison Phelps showed up, thinking she would surprise Kieran with dinner and a bottle of wine. She keyed in the code to Kieran’s quarters, not giving it a second thought, and walked in as Eilish was leaving. One glance around at the disheveled room with wet towels, the balcony door standing open, a young woman in tears and Kieran in a sweatshirt and a pair of silk boxer shorts told Jamie she had walked in on something intimate.

Eilish nearly knocked her over as they tried to get past each other on the landing. "Looks like I should have taken a number, too," she shot at Kieran as she left, not bothering to look back.

Jamie stood there, dumbfounded. "You—she—" she stammered. "I wanted to surprise you. I can see I did," she murmured, clearly hurt. "I uh—I don’t think I can see you anymore, Kieran," she shoved the basket of food at the Captain, hastily exiting the room.

Kieran studied the basket in her hands, surveyed the room, and sighed. "That was slick, KT," she complimented herself. "B'Elanna must be laughing her ass off, about now."

____________

Jamari nervously groomed himself as the authorities told him to wait for their return. The detention center was bustling with activity, as it always did when offworlders came to visit Restid Three. He had risked a lot coming to get help, and he hoped he wouldn’t be deported. Restidians largely despised the Creoheem, and he had been in trouble with the Regents more than once. But he had been so frightened by the sudden unconsciousness of his companions, he had thrown self-preservation to the wind.

He was even more distraught when the wiry, dark skinned man with the pointed ears entered with two formidable looking women, one with metal objects in her face, like Icheb’s.

The Sergeant Regent looked at him as if he were pond scum. "You will tell these people what you told me," he hissed.

Jamari nearly wet his pants. "I showed some people the back entrance to the Rainbow Caverns. When we got inside, they all fainted. I can’t wake them up."

Captain Kathryn Janeway’s knuckles went white and she balled her hands into fists. "We can’t get a reading on them to transport them."

The Sergeant Regent nodded. "The caves would block your sensors and your transporters," he explained. He grabbed Jamari’s shoulders. "You will take us to them at once," he barked at the frightened lad. "You were stupid and reckless to take them there. They obviously succumbed to the emissions from the cerebrosporum."

Jamari shuddered. "What are you talking about? That gas? It’s not dangerous. It just smells funny."

The Sergeant Regent narrowed his eyes. "It is not dangerous to you, Creoheem," he said with utter disdain. "It is dangerous to them. You may pass through the caverns unharmed because you are hardly evolved beyond the level of the cerebrosporum. These beings are higher level organisms. You will take us to them."

Janeway was taken aback by the racist undertone of the Sergeant’s words. She turned to the young Creoheem. "Please," she touched his arm, "will you help us?"

Jamari swallowed his apprehension. "Yes. But I’m not sure I can find it in the darkness. I’ll try my best."

The Sergeant Regent scowled at the youngster. "Keep in mind, Captain, he is an inveterate liar. All Creoheem are. Weigh what he tells you with caution," he warned.

Janeway squared her shoulders. "He said he’d try his best, and I believe him," she forced herself to sound assured. "He seems quite honest to me."

Jamari was startled at her contradiction of the Sergeant Regent, and immediately adored Kathryn Janeway. He felt his chest swell with pride. "Let’s get started, then," he enthused.

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

Voyager had been gone over a year, and Kieran found herself missing her comrades. She had kept busy enough with Eilish and Jamie to fill her free hours, but with both women angry at her, she had little to occupy her time. In addition to their frequent subspace chats, Naomi Wildman had diligently written to Kieran every day, transmitting the communications in a weekly installment that practically clogged the bandwidth with its voluminous content. Kieran had been less than faithful about writing back, but Naomi had never scolded her or complained. With a sense of renewed dedication, Kieran forced herself to respond to the lengthy missives, and tried to match the eloquence of the Chief Engineer of Voyager.

Kieran had taken up playing the guitar again, hoping to hone her fine motor skills, and needing a diversion from thinking about her failed relationships. She found herself inexplicably writing songs about Naomi Wildman. She thought it was odd, considering that she had never memorialized B'Elanna or Katie in that way, but the creative process seemed to have a will of its own, and Naomi was apparently Kieran’s muse. She spent several hours a week puttering around with a song that she didn’t seem able to finish:

Woman on the edge of vision, what am I to you?

Hiding in your memory as you slumber

Creeping into consciousness, a haunting tune

Startles you awake and makes you wonder

Wonder what’s real now.

If you have to search your heart for what is real

You will find the truth is veiled in echoes

Is it a reflection of the things I feel

Hidden in the stretching, endless shadows

Of what’s real now.

There is only you, there is only me

If we start anew

Can we finally see what’s real now?

Deanna told her she had writer’s block because the song represented unresolved feelings for Naomi, and she wouldn’t be able to complete the lyric until the issues they represented were settled. Kieran laughed and told Deanna that her creative well had simply petered out, and that was all there was to it.

One afternoon, Kieran came home from the office to find a message waiting for her. She played the recording, and Naomi’s face appeared on her workstation screen.

"Hi KT!" she smiled and bubbled at the scanner. "Guess what! Noah Lessing has been offered command of his own ship, and Voyager is coming to Earth to transfer him. While we’re there, Voyager is slated to undergo a heavy D-check. Hope you’re up to a good long visit. K-Mom and Borg-Mom want to say something," she turned away, and waved them over. The two women beamed at the scanner, arms around each other.

"Kato, we can’t wait to see you!" Kathryn enthused. "We should be in orbit in two days time. Clear your calendar, Captain, because my mother is mad as hell that you haven’t been to visit her, and she is demanding that we bring you with us."

Kieran laughed out loud at the warning, hugging herself. God I’ve missed them all, she realized. Now that’s a sight. Three beautiful women, all smiles and happy thoughts, anxious to see me. I’m lucky to have such friends.

"Kieran," Seven intoned, "resistance is futile. Gretchen insists upon your attendance. She has authorized me to assimilate you, if necessary," Seven extended her arm and deployed her assimilation tubules. "Pack your bags."

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

Kami Fong’s was packed with Starfleet personnel, as usual. Kathryn Janeway had known the proprietor for years and was able to get their dinner party seated right away. Kieran had Naomi and Seven under each arm, hugging them both as they walked to their table.

Naomi ruffled Kieran’s regrown hair, which had finally lengthened to cover her ears. "I miss the shaved look, KT," she giggled, messing it up.

Kieran snatched Naomi’s hand and bent it back playfully. "Enough, bad girl. You’ll make me look like a cactus."

"I see you’ve got your strength back," Naomi grinned ruefully, rubbing her wrist as they sat down.

"I had a great personal trainer. She’s ruthless," Kieran laughed.

Kathryn reached over and felt her biceps. "She must be. You’re hard as duranium. Flex for me, you stud," she teased.

Kieran grinned and pulled up the sleeve of her Hawaiian shirt, making her muscle bulge for her friend. "Not bad for 53, eh Kat?"

"I’m impressed," Kathryn smiled. "You look great, Kato."

Kieran ducked her head bashfully. "Thanks. I’ve worked very hard. And I’ve missed you guys. Man, I’d give anything to be your first officer again, just so we could all be together again," she added wistfully.

"What are you talking about? You took Icheb, My Chief Engineer, and more of Voyager’s crew than I can count, you scavenger. I hardly had a crew left," she bitched good-naturedly.

Kieran scowled at her dearest friend. "Watch it Kat, or I’ll raid your crew again," she mocked menacingly. "I hear you’ve got the best Chief Engineer in the fleet," she winked at Naomi.

Naomi’s eyes lit up. She tried to hide her interest, but Kathryn saw it immediately.

"Naomi could have any ship in the fleet, and she knows it," Kathryn said honestly. "If she wanted to move up to a Supremacy class vessel, I’d certainly understand that. She’s had a steady stream of offers from various Captains for the past four years," she added proudly.

Kieran grinned at the strawberry blonde, leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Well, I’d give her any job she wants, she took such good care of me. I owe her."

Naomi hugged her friend around the neck. "Remember you said that, KT."

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

Naomi cajoled Kieran into letting her stay at Kieran’s quarters for the three days between her arrival and their departure for the Janeway family farm in Indiana. Naomi, along with the rest of Voyager’s crew, were given serviceable quarters at Starfleet Command’s Guest Quadrangle, but Naomi had ribbed Kieran about the opulence of her apartment, and keeping it all to herself, so Kieran invited her to stay over.

Kathryn and Seven accompanied them back to Kieran’s, and the four friends soaked in Kieran’s hot tub, sharing a bottle of wine.

"This is from Qian, isn’t it?" Kathryn asked, rolling the liquid over her tongue.

"Yep. My last bottle. B'Elanna and I bought a case and we’ve kept several bottles back. All but two were destroyed at the wormhole, though. I’m so glad to have you guys back, it seemed like the perfect occasion for this," she raised her glass.

The lighting was dim, but Seven’s Borg-enhanced vision was acute. She was impressed with the recovery Kieran had made, most notably in the tissue that replaced the burned and damaged flesh over her torso. Kathryn caught Seven staring at Kieran, and jammed an elbow into Seven’s side.

"Kathryn," Seven jumped, "that stung."

"You were staring," the older woman accused.

Kieran chuckled. "Whatsa matter Seven? Can’t keep your eyes off me?" she teased.

Seven regarded her coolly. "I was merely noticing how well your burns healed. You are not scarred or disfigured in any way."

Kieran crossed her arms and pouted. "Damn. Is that all?" She splashed Kathryn playfully. "Aren’t you a little old for jealousy, Kat?"

Kathryn grinned facetiously. "Never. I’m every bit as possessive now as I always was. In fact, moreso, since my own limited beauty has diminished considerably over the years."

Seven leaned over and kissed her spouse’s cheek. "You are more beautiful now than ever, Kathryn Janeway. But you may be possessive, if you wish."

Kieran smiled warmly at her friends. She loved seeing them together, joyfully in love as ever, and gracefully growing old.

Naomi merely rolled her eyes and finished her wine. "Same as always," she remarked.

"Hey," Kieran splashed Naomi. "Not everyone can be as cold-hearted as you. God, Na, do you even date?" she demanded. "I’ve gotten scads of letters from you, and everytime one arrives, I think ‘this’ll be the juicy one with all the sordid details’. But you never dish the dirt. What gives?"

Naomi colored prettily, though no one saw in the muted light. "Maybe I’m tight lipped," she ventured.

"Oh really?" Kathryn lifted an elegant eyebrow. "You must be, because I’ve heard nothing from you on the subject, either."

Naomi stuck her tongue out at her mother. "Okay, maybe I’m busy trying to keep your damned ship in one piece," she shot back. "It’s two times a full time job, you know. She’s awful, Kieran. Always pushing it beyond tolerance and then expecting me to cobble it back together. Look at these hands," she shoved them under Kieran’s nose. "Just look at them!" she wailed.

Kieran chuckled. "Oh, yes," she took them in her own, studying them. "I can see clearly that you’ve been overworked and under appreciated. You should find a more lenient Captain. Say, one with a Supremacy class ship?" she waggled her eyebrows at the Lieutenant.

"Stop that," Kathryn splashed Kieran roughly. "I need her. Voyager would fall apart at the seams, if not for her skill. She’s right, I beat the hell out of that ship on a daily basis. She’s a master."

Naomi smiled smugly. "Damned right."

"And humble, too," Seven smarted.

Kieran grinned so broadly, she thought her face might split. "God, it’s good to be with you guys again," she laughed deep in her chest.

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

Naomi Wildman wrapped herself up in Kieran’s old bathrobe, her hair tied back from her freshly scrubbed face, cheeks pink from the warmth of the shower she had just taken. Kieran joined her on the couch, handing her a mug of coffee.

"What’s in it?" Naomi sniffed at the brew.

"Kahlua," Kieran replied, settling in beside her. "Ever had it before?"

Naomi nodded. "About a million times. God, KT, you act like I’m still twelve. I’ve had every alcoholic drink in the ship’s database at least once. Twice if I liked it," she added, giggling.

Kieran inclined her head in acknowledgement. "Can’t help it, Na. I look at you, and you don’t seem 30. Funny, when you were a kid, you never looked like a kid. Now you’re a woman, and you look more like a kid than you ever did before."

Naomi sipped her coffee. "Well, I shouldn’t look 30 because I’m 31," she reminded Kieran.

"Oh shit!" Kieran sat up straight. "I missed your birthday!" she pretended to be alarmed.

Naomi rested a hand on her thigh. "It’s okay, KT. You were unconscious for my 30th, and we were light years apart on my 31st. My feelings aren’t hurt."

Kieran grinned impishly. "And you just assumed I forgot?"

"I didn’t say that, but I’d understand why you would have," Naomi explained, retiring into her mug.

"Oh ye of little faith," Kieran scolded. "Stay right here." She rose from the couch, setting her mug on the end table, and ambled down the hallway. Naomi could hear her rooting around in her bedroom closet, then heard her mutter "Ha! There you are."

Kieran emerged from the back of the unit, two brightly wrapped packages in her hands. "I never forget the truly important things, Wildwoman."

Naomi grinned up at the towering woman, accepting the gifts. "You amaze me sometimes, KT. You barely answered my letters, but you remembered to shop for me. Just when I think you don’t care all that much, you surprise me."

Kieran frowned, seating herself again. "I care more than I can say, Naomi. Why would you think otherwise?"

Naomi shrugged. "Mostly the letters. Now, what have we here?" she shook the first package.

Kieran grinned. "Something you asked me for eons ago," she hinted mysteriously. "I hope you still want it."

Naomi looked puzzled as she unfurled the wall hanging, then recognition struck her. "Oh, Kieran it’s wonderful. I can’t believe you remembered that I wanted this."

"I had forgotten, too," she admitted, "then my personal effects that were salvaged from the Sagan came to me, and I was going through them. I found this, and thought it would be fun to give it to you."

"Gosh, I remember when you were making this," Naomi fingered the woven material. "I was so surprised to find out you were artistic on top of all the other skills you have. I was in awe."

Kieran laughed. "B'Elanna thought it was the ugliest thing she’d ever seen. I kept it hanging in my office for years because she wouldn’t let me hang it in our quarters," Kieran recalled.

"She actually told you it was ugly?" Naomi asked in disbelief.

"Many times," Kieran laughed at the expression on her friend’s face. "Come on, Na. Now that you’re older, don’t you think so too?" she chuckled, touching the pattern. "No one ever said anything nice about it, in all those years. A few people made comments about how it was ‘interesting’, which is a nice way of saying it’s hideous," she howled with laughter.

Naomi frowned. "I honestly love it," she shrugged. "Maybe I have no aesthetic sensibility, but I think it’s very pretty. It reminds me of the forests of Grailen."

Kieran’s face became solemn. "I still can’t think of that place without it seeming bittersweet. I mean, my honeymoon started out so perfectly, but then you—"

"Ruined it for you," Naomi finished for her. "I never told you how sorry I am, KT. It was totally selfish of me to run away and frighten you, not to mention cutting your honeymoon short."

"Water under the bridge, Na," Kieran said softly. "But you really scared the hell out of me. I’ve got butterflies in my gut, even now, just thinking back on it."

They gazed fondly at one another, each reminiscing over the expanse of years they had been friends. Finally Kieran nudged her. "Open the other one."

Naomi ripped the paper away wildly, grinning like a kid. She threw her head back and laughed as she beheld the contents. "Perfect," she gave Kieran a light hug. "That’s the fanciest Kadis Kot board I’ve ever seen."

Kieran smiled broadly, glad that Naomi liked her presents. "The pieces are made of malachite and red jasper," she explained, holding up a disc. "I saw it when I was in Arizona, visiting Chakotay, and I had to get it for you."

"Did he think you were nuts?" Naomi rubbed the smooth surface of the polished stone face, admiring the piece.

"Pretty much. He lectured me about ostentatiousness and extravagant gestures."

Naomi laughed. "Figures. And you said?"

"I told him B'Elanna made me rich when she died and I didn’t give a fuck about money, so I was going to spend it on the people I have left that I love."

Naomi smacked Kieran’s thigh, laughing. "I’d give the set to have seen his face. He can be so self-righteous, sometimes," she snickered.

"Yeah," Kieran agreed. "But I love him dearly. Bless his heart. He insisted I visit his ranch again as soon as you went back to Voyager. He took me to see a medicine man, and I know it sounds like a lot of bunk, but I swear, my headaches got a lot better after that man did his—whatever it was. He drew some figures in the sand and chanted and burned some grassy stuff over the pictures, then erased them with a stick."

Naomi almost spewed coffee out her nose. "Very therapeutic, and so scientific, I’m sure," she scoffed.

Kieran shrugged, smiling. "I thought it was bizarre, too, but my headaches let up. I was desperate enough that I would’ve tried anything, at that point." She nodded at the gift. "So, think you can still beat me?"

Naomi rolled her eyes. "No doubt, KT. In fact, we can make a little wager, if you like," she challenged.

"You’re on, Wildwoman. I’m gonna hate like hell to take your money, but if you insist…"

"In your dreams, Thompson. You go first."

_______________

The Voyager crew was evacuated from Restid Three after several hours of exposure in the caverns to what the Doctor determined to be a psychotropic substance that when inhaled created somnolent hallucinations that to the experiencer felt completely real. Except Icheb, who seemed to be merely unconscious. The Doctor hypothesized that something in his Borg physiology blocked the hallucinogenic effects, and induced a deep slumber without dreams.

Tom Paris was revived with little effort, but Harry and Naomi were not responding. Their synaptic activity was registering off the scales, and the Doctor was concerned that a sudden interruption in the pattern might cause brain damage.

"What do you mean, Doctor?" Kieran asked nervously. "How can waking them up be harmful?"

"Back in the mid 20th century, there were thousands of people who experimented with various mind altering substances," he explained. "Most were marginally effected by them, but there were a few who would take so called ‘trips’ and never come back, psychologically speaking. It was quite the fad to indulge in ‘trips’ on psilocybin, lysergic acid diethylamide, mescaline—and the fantasy worlds some of these people entered were either so attractive they decided to stay, or their brains were so damaged they got stuck there. Naomi and Harry are showing brain activity that is very similar to the patterns seen in the unfortunate ones who never made it back."

Captain Kathryn Janeway turned to the Sergeant Regent, who had accompanied them back to Voyager. "Are there any known antidotes?"

The Regent shook his head. "Restidians don’t have an adverse reaction to the cerebrosporum. In fact, the reaction is one of total euphoria. Our citizens pay grandiose sums of money to experience what your crew have stumbled upon."

"So what do we do?" Kieran demanded, gazing intently at her Ktarian friend, who was smiling in her sleep.

"We wait," the Doctor replied calmly. "Hopefully, the gradual decrease of the psychotropic stimulus will wean them from their hallucinatory states."

Janeway fixed him with a steely glare. "And if it doesn’t?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I would recommend monitoring the levels in their blood, and if the levels don’t drop precipitously in 48 hours, I’ll try counteractive measures. But for now, I think a more conservative approach is warranted."

Kieran touched Kathryn’s arm. "For once, I agree with him, Captain. But I’m going to read the historical data on this phenomenon and see if there are other alternatives."

Seven of Nine stepped up beside the Counselor. "I’ll work with you. Perhaps if we study the data together, we can analyze it faster."

Janeway nodded. "Keep me informed. And get Chakotay to help you. His people know quite a bit about trances and visions. Maybe he can shed some light on this mess."

"Understood," Seven nodded curtly. "Kathryn, please do not stress yourself unduly. We will find a solution."

Kathryn tried to smile. "I’m sure you will, darling," she agreed. Kathryn turned to the Sergeant Regent. "If you don’t mind, I’d like to discuss this further in my ready room," she advised him.

He bowed politely. "Of course, Captain."

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

Dappled sunlight crept through the branches of the redwood tree outside Kieran Thompson’s bedroom window, the bright triangles and lines warming her face and preventing her from staying asleep. Naomi Wildman lay in her arms, contentedly breathing against Kieran’s cheek, arm draped over Kieran’s chest, pinning the taller woman to the bed. Kieran’s mind eased into consciousness, and her first question was how Naomi ended up in her bed.

Her brain was foggy from too much alcohol the night before, and she grimaced as the light assaulted her eyes. Her mouth tasted of coffee, soured on her breath. She vaguely remembered that Kadis Kot had segued from money wagers to drinking wagers, and at some point, they started doing shots of Tequila. Still fully clothed, the two women had staggered to bed and collapsed together. Kieran groaned and disengaged herself from her companion, groping her way to the replicator where she obtained a counteracting agent for her hangover. She steadied herself against the wall as she administered the hypospray, feeling immediate relief.

Naomi was not so fortunate. Before Kieran could replicate another dose, the Ktarian sprung out of bed and ran for the ensuite. Kieran could hear her vomiting in violent jags, retching into the toilet. She pushed through the door and pressed the medication to Naomi’s throat, deploying the hypospray.

"You okay, honey?" she knelt behind the younger woman, holding her steady.

"Yeah," she gasped. "But I need a wash cloth."

Kieran obliged by wetting a fresh cloth and wiping Naomi’s forehead. "It’s okay, sweetie," she soothed her. "Let me help you." Kieran wrapped herself around the queasy Ktarian, making sure she could anchor her if need be.

Naomi gladly permitted her face and mouth to be cleansed, and sighed in relief as the nausea abated. She took the cloth from Kieran, gazing up at her, still seated on the floor of the ensuite and surround by the arms and legs of her oldest friend. "You always did take good care of me, KT," she leaned her face against Kieran’s shoulder.

"And you of me," Kieran assured her. "Thank you for helping me learn to talk again, and for making me try when I wanted to give up."

Naomi hugged her. "I owed that much to B'Elanna," she murmured. "And I did it for selfish reasons, too. I couldn’t stand to have you live, but lose you anyway. It would have been so easy for you to withdraw into yourself. Stronger people would have."

Kieran held her gently, not wanting the closeness to end. "You’ve always seen the best in me and nurtured it, Naomi. I’ve never had a better, more loyal friend. I know I can be a hard woman to deal with."

Naomi chuckled softly, arms around Kieran’s neck. "Stubborn, you mean. Yes, you can be. But I am too. It’s what makes us kindred spirits."

"If you’re feeling better," Kieran kissed her forehead tenderly, "I’d like to get off this cold tile floor. I’m going to have a cross-hatch pattern on my ass. And I think we’d better scare up some breakfast, after all the abuse we heaped on our bodies last night."

Naomi laughed. "That’s the first time we ever got drunk together," she noted.

"And probably the last," Kieran hoisted them both off the floor. "I’m too old for that crap. I think we should go to Eggington’s for breakfast. Ever had their wheat germ and peach pancakes?"

"Sounds terrific," Naomi reluctantly pulled away from Kieran’s arms. "Let me shower and brush my teeth, though. I’m not going out in public like this."

Kieran touched her cheek. "You’re beautiful, sweetie. Always."

Naomi leaned into the caress, closing her eyes. The compliment caused a welling sensation in her chest that made it hard to breathe. "Now I know why I’ve missed you so much," she teased. "You stroke my ego."

Kieran watched her close the door, unable to tear her eyes away. "I tell the truth," she whispered to herself, drawing a shaking breath and trying to still her thundering heart. Don’t even think it, KT. Kathryn would kill you. And Naomi deserves much better. And no more drinking to excess when you’re with her. Things could get out of hand. Seven would kill you. And she deserves much better. Kieran sighed, still staring at the door to the ensuite. God, I’d give anything to just walk in there and slide up behind her in the shower—KT, listen to yourself. B'Elanna would kill you. And Naomi deserves much better. Hmmmm…maybe I better buy myself some insurance and invite Kat and Seven to meet us for breakfast. And Geejay. That’ll keep me on track.

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

The Lombard Street Art Fair was in full swing, and the weather was perfection. Kieran wandered along the booths and tables, Naomi close behind, surveying the artisans’ wares. The crowd was overwhelming, and if not for Kieran’s height, Naomi would have lost her completely in the throng of people. More than once, Kieran glanced around searching for her companion. When the Ktarian disappeared for several minutes, Kieran got worried. She stood in the middle of the street, shouting "Naomi Wildman!" until the strawberry blonde beauty found her.

"Okay, this is nuts," Kieran declared. "Take my hand and don’t let go. Let’s get out of this mob."

Naomi nodded, muted by the thrum of hundreds of voices around her. When they plowed through the mass of people, finally reaching a clearing at the edge of the fair, Naomi was fairly shaking from the press of the crowd.

"Good God," Kieran wiped her brow on her wrist. "That was awful."

Naomi looked white and flustered. "Na, are you okay?" Kieran grasped her shoulders firmly.

Naomi gulped and nodded. "Just a bit—claustrophobic, I guess," she fought for air. "I can’t believe it. I’ve never had that happen, not even in the tightest spaces on Voyager."

Kieran steadied her for the second time that day. "You look like a ghost, sweetie. Let’s find a place to sit down," she urged, arm wrapped tightly around the slight waist of her friend. "I guess a leisurely walk to the restaurant was a bad idea. You probably needed food more immediately."

Naomi leaned on her gratefully, her head swimming. "I don’t know what came over me. All of a sudden I just wanted to run away from them all," she held her chest, still forcing the air into her lungs.

"Panic attack," Kieran identified it. "Now we know to keep you out of large crowds, if at all possible," she helped Naomi along the walkway. "We’re pretty close to the restaurant now. Can you make it the rest of the way?"

Naomi nodded resolutely. "I think so, if you hang onto me."

Kieran had no intention of doing otherwise. She spotted Seven and Geejay at the door to Eggington’s, and waved with her free hand. Seven knew instantly something was wrong, and rushed over to meet them.

"Naomi, what’s wrong?" Seven demanded. "Are you ill?"

Naomi smiled weakly. "Not exactly. I just need some breakfast," she evaded the prying eyes of her mother.

Seven’s enhanced olfactory sense picked up a faint odor of alcohol issuing from Naomi’s pores. "I see. Exactly how much did you drink, young lady?" Seven interrogated her.

Naomi stared at the Borg in disbelief. "Nothing today," Naomi replied defensively. Then frustrated at her inability to hide anything from Seven, she demanded "How in hell did you know I was drinking?"

Seven smirked. "Kathryn has imbibed often enough that I can spot the signs immediately," Seven explained. She gave Kieran a withering look. "And, I might add, she has most often been in that state when in your company," she accused the lanky Captain. "I see you are continuing your bad influence on my family members."

Geejay tugged on Kieran’s sleeve. "I’m next. Let’s go bar hopping together," she enthused.

Kieran frowned at the cadet. "You’re underage, Geejay. And from the look on your mother’s face, I’m not taking any chances until she forgives me."

Naomi held Seven’s crossed arms. "It wasn’t her fault, Borg-Mom. I’m a big girl. And so is K-Mom."

Seven harrumphed indignantly. "Funny thing. Women who are ordinarily clear headed and sharp witted make truly stupid decisions in your presence, Kieran Thompson. Can you explain that to me?"

Kieran grinned half-heartedly. "Um, my intoxicating personality?" she offered.

Seven raised an eyebrow in disapproval. "Let’s see if Kathryn has secured a table. Kieran, I expect you to sit next to me, where I can keep an eye on you."

"Yes Ma’am," Kieran acquiesced sheepishly.

As they made their way to the table on the back porch, Kieran pulled Naomi aside in a hallway. "Are you really okay, Naomi?" she asked with acute concern.

Naomi smiled, though she was pale and drawn. "I’ll be fine. I promise," she added, standing on tiptoes to kiss Kieran’s cheek. As the Ktarian turned to follow after her mother, Kieran stood in the darkened wing, touching her cheek and grinning stupidly.

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

That evening, the Voyager crew had a reception in the Grand Ballroom at Starfleet Command’s Five Star Hotel. The InterGalactic Suites was used for visiting dignitaries, large conferences, cultural events, and Graduation. Visiting sport teams also stayed there, and families of cadets and prospective cadets. Captain Janeway decided to throw a big party for her crew before they scattered to all the ends of the Earth and the various planets and space stations in the vicinity. Kathryn loved to entertain her crew in grand style.

Kieran wasn’t much on black-tie affairs, but succumbing to Naomi’s considerable powers of persuasion, she agreed to play the part and escort the Chief of Engineering to the ball. She dragged her dress whites out of storage, and considered whether or not to include her various medals, most notably her latest set, which incorporated her second Purple Heart. She thought the array of ribbons and metal pins pretentious, but it was technically part of her dress uniform. She decided to let Naomi decide if she should wear them.

When the Chief of Engineering emerged from Kieran’s guest room, Kieran expected her to be clad in her dress uniform. Instead she was greeted by a vision of pure elegance as Naomi sailed out into the living room in a sapphire blue backless gown, full length and sporting a train. The bodice was sleeveless and low cut in the front, framing her alabaster breasts and leaving her shoulders bare. Kieran was dumbfounded by the sight of the younger woman, who was ravishing to behold. She stood there, gaping at the gorgeous Ktarian, wondering what had happened to her vocal chords.

"What do you think?" Naomi spun around for her.

Kieran mutely nodded, mouth dry as the Sahara.

Naomi tilted her head, puzzled by Kieran’s expression. "KT, is something wrong with it? Is it too much?"

Kieran shook her head, then croaked out "It’s—you’re—oh my God, Naomi—there are no words. You are stunning," she stepped up to take her hands, looking her over again. "You’re always pretty, but this is just—stupendous." She smiled in wonder at her friend, drinking in the sight of her. "For a minute there, I thought you might have to teach me how to talk again," she teased.

Naomi blushed, the color spreading over her chest and drawing Kieran’s eyes to the necklace Naomi wore, a teardrop shaped stone of pale green which matched the color of the lighter flecks in Naomi’s eyes, suspended on a delicate gold chain. "This is lovely," she touched the gem. "Someone special must have given it to you, which means you’ve been holding out on me. Who have you been dating that you didn’t mention?" her liquid brown eyes twinkled with mischief.

"You don’t remember?" Naomi asked softly, gazing up at the dapper Captain.

Kieran shook her head, and asked in a barely audible voice "Should I?"

Naomi gazed breathlessly up at her companion. "You gave it to me, KT. You bought it on Qian when I was a little girl. I’ve never taken it off."

Recognition registered in Kieran’s face. "My lord, I do remember. That’s been eons, Na. You’ve worn it all that time?"

Naomi nodded shyly. "It’s the most valuable thing anyone ever gave me."

Kieran chuckled. "Sorry to disillusion you, but that stone cost near to nothing. I just thought it was pretty."

"It’s valuable because it came from you, not because it cost a lot," she explained softly.

Kieran cleared her throat, mesmerized by the nearness of what was possibly the most beautiful woman in the Alpha Quadrant. "I need your input—I’m a little embarrassed. Should I wear my fruit salad?"

Naomi grinned at Kieran’s discomfiture. It was a discussion they had had on prior formal occasions. "It’s part of the dress uniform. Of course you should. Why wouldn’t you?"

Kieran shrugged. "I dunno. It just feels—like bragging, or something."

"It’s supposed to, silly. You’re supposed to be taking pride in all your accomplishments as an officer. We’re all so proud of you, KT, why not be proud of yourself, a little bit?" she encouraged.

Kieran blushed. "Okay. I just didn’t want you to think I’m being showy, or something."

Naomi let out a peal of laughter. "You? Like I would ever think that," she chided her. "You’re only the most humble person in the known worlds. Now come on. You’re worse than a guy trying to get ready," she scolded, taking Kieran’s hand and dragging her to the bedroom.

"How would you know what guys are like when they’re getting ready to go out?" Kieran asked with a slight edge in her voice.

Naomi laughed a lilting laugh, shaking her head. "I’ve dated on occasion, Captain. I don’t tell you everything."

Kieran instantly pouted. "Why not? I tell you everything."

Naomi grinned impishly. "I doubt that. You never mentioned Eilish MacDougal."

Kieran’s eyebrows nearly shot off her forehead. "What do you know about her?"

"Apparently, there are sordid rumors all over campus. Geejay told me. Word is, you didn’t tell her you were an officer, and you seduced her. The two of you had a torrid affair, until she found out you’re a Captain. She supposedly freaked out and that was that," Naomi recited.

Kieran scowled. "That’s about half-accurate. She seduced me, not the other way around. And she did freak out when she found out my rank. But that’s old news—"

"Not to me," Naomi didn’t try to hide the disappointment in her voice. "Why didn’t you say anything, KT?"

Kieran studied the hazel eyes of her companion. Why, indeed. "I think I was afraid you’d think less of me," she dissembled. You thought you’d hurt Naomi. Why not just admit it? You thought she’d be jealous. And now that it’s apparent she isn’t, you’re hurt.

"Kieran, why in the world would you think that?" Naomi’s voice was whip-like.

Kieran considered coming clean. "Because you’ve never known me to be promiscuous, or to take a sexual relationship casually, like I did with Eilish. I wasn’t in love with her. It was just—I don’t know if I can explain it. Deanna thinks it was part of getting over B'Elanna. I’m not so sure." Kieran sat down on the bed, risking wrinkling her dress whites. "And it’s worse than just Eilish, Na. I was seeing someone else, too—one of Geejay’s professors. The evening Eilish and I broke up, Jamie was coming to surprise me, and the two of them ran into each other. Jamie hasn’t spoken to me since."

Naomi couldn’t help chuckling. "You never could walk and chew gum at the same time, KT. What made you think you could juggle two lovers?"

Kieran grinned. "Hell if I know. Jamie sort of reminded me of B'Elanna, and that’s undoubtedly why I got involved with her. But I didn’t go looking for anything else. Eilish just sort of fell into my lap." Kieran conveniently omitted the fact that Eilish closely resembled a certain Ktarian engineer.

"So to speak," Naomi joked. "And you think I will somehow have a lesser opinion of you for what? For having a couple of flings? For dealing with B'Elanna’s death in an all too human fashion? What, KT?"

For not letting it be you, Kieran thought. She rephrased for self-preservation. "For not being more in control."

"Do you think I’m always in control?" Naomi asked gently.

"You sure seem to be. But then, you don’t tell me everything," Kieran sounded injured. "You know all my faults, but I only see you at your best. It doesn’t seem fair."

Like being in love with my mentor’s wife for most of my life isn’t a fault? Naomi wanted to ask, but didn’t. "You have seen me at my very worst. I wasn’t exactly having a stellar moment this morning when I was hurling in your toilet," she pointed out.

Kieran sprang to her defense. "No, that was my fault. I got you drunk."

"You didn’t get me anything, Kieran Thompson. Did you pour Tequila down my throat forcibly?"

"Of course not."

"Then to my knowledge, I got myself drunk. You’re as bad as K-Mom, blaming yourself for everything that goes wrong in the world. Borg-Mom doesn’t blame you, either. She was just busting your chops for fun this morning. You can’t carry all that guilt around, and if B'Elanna were here, she’d tell you so in no uncertain terms."

Kieran stood abruptly. The mention of B'Elanna’s disapproval was like an uncontained anti-matter reaction. "Well she’s not here," she spat angrily. "And I’m doing the best I fucking can!" She spun to leave, but Naomi grabbed her arm.

"Wait," she pleaded. "Please, don’t be mad at me, KT. I didn’t mean to hit a nerve," she slid her arms around the tall Captain’s waist. "I just don’t like to see you beating yourself up."

"I’m sorry," Kieran closed her eyes against the pain that refused to be cowed into submission. "I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just—I’m so used to having her to keep me honest, and without her, it’s really hard not to feel directionless, sometimes. If it weren’t for Starfleet telling me what to do, where to go, and when to do it, I’d probably be totally lost."

Naomi leaned against her friend, hanging onto her. "If you’re lost, Kieran, just reach out for my hand, and I’ll lead for as long as you need. You’ve done it for me a thousand times."

Really Na? Because I just want you to take my hand forever. "Careful, Wildwoman," she growled. "You give me your hand, I might not ever let go. It’d be so easy for me to let someone else make the decisions," she warned.

Naomi hugged her tighter. "Maybe it would for awhile, but you’re a Captain, and Captains don’t let anyone else decide for them. Eventually, your decisiveness would assert itself again. Being in charge is what you do best, KT."

Kieran snorted in disagreement. "You have no idea how truly weak I am, Naomi. If I thought Kathryn would let me, I’d go back to being her First Officer right now, and not regret it for an instant."

"I don’t believe you," Naomi touched Kieran’s cheek. "You’d change your mind as quickly as you’d accept the position now. You’re just skittish, KT, and that’s to be expected. Believe me, the second you walk onto the bridge of the Torres, you’re going to feel all the confidence come back," Naomi assured her.

"The Torres?" Kieran was baffled. "My new ship is being named after B'Elanna?"

Naomi belatedly slapped her hand over her mouth. "Shit, I wasn’t supposed to say anything," she swore. "Damn, Kieran, you have to act surprised when they tell you, or K-Mom will bust me back down to Bridge Assistant," she bumped her head against Kieran’s chest roughly, punishing herself.

Kieran’s eyes filled with tears. "My ship is being named after her? Truly?"

Naomi nodded. "K-Mom insisted, and she is a formidable woman. I’m so sorry I let that slip, KT," she apologized sincerely.

"I’m glad you did, sweetie. If they had sprung that on me in a crowd of my subordinates, I’d have broken down and cried, and my command would have gone to hell in a handbasket. You may have averted a major disaster by blurting that out," she wiped her eyes carefully, avoiding soiling her uniform.

Naomi picked up the large, multi-hued myriad of medals, ribbons, and awards from Kieran’s dressing table and affixed it to Kieran’s chest. "This is an impressive lot, you know," she commented. "I think you have more than K-Mom, even."

"Then that tells me how meaningless they are," Kieran asserted. "If I live to be half the officer your mother is, I’ll have to live to be two hundred. There’s no way I should have more of this riff-raff than her," she said scornfully.

Naomi planted her hands on her hips, shaking her head. "You’re impossible, KT. Let me look at you." With gentle hands, she straightened Kieran’s placket, refastened one of her pips, and pronounced them "ready to go".

"I’d better take a phaser. I’m going to have to keep the men and women off you with it. You’re going to cause a riot, looking that spectacular," Kieran praised her. She held out her arm, which Naomi took, smiling up at her. "I’m going to get a kick out being the envy of every person in that room, though," she laughed softly.

Naomi squeezed Kieran’s arm as they exited her quarters. "You look awfully good in dress whites, Kato. They make me look like a ghost," she giggled.

"That’s because you’re so fair complected. Much too pretty for a stark color like white. You need the deeper blues and greens to accentuate your hair and eyes. And to provide a pleasing background for your freckles," she said with admiration.

Just then a young man came down the hall with his family, obviously visiting the Academy for a once over. The young man stopped dead to gaze at Naomi. He stiffened to attention as they approached. "Ma’am," he said politely to Kieran, but kept his eyes on the fair-skinned Ktarian.

Kieran smiled warmly. "Thinking about a career in Starfleet, son?" she nodded to his parents, who smiled with pride.

"Yes Ma’am," he nodded vigorously. "The campus is outstanding. And the programs look to be very challenging."

Kieran nodded. "It’s not for everyone. But if you’re one of the best and brightest, we’d be pleased to have you. The rewards are unprecedented," she added.

He gazed longingly at Naomi. "I can see that," he murmured. "Thank you, Captain."

"Sir, Ma’am," Kieran nodded to his parents. Then to Naomi, "Shall we?"

Naomi grinned as they walked to the turbolift. "You enjoyed that," she accused light-heartedly.

"Yes, I did. He’s going to dream about you for a month, at least," she smirked wickedly. "Now I know how all those old fart Admirals feel with their trophy wives on their arms," she noted wryly.

"You’re awful. But I love it," Naomi admitted. "God, how vain am I?"

Kieran threw back her head and laughed all the way to the first floor.

___________

The Sergeant Regent shifted uncomfortably in the chair he had been offered. "They are mostly orphans and vagrants, Captain," he explained. "Jamari—the Creoheem boy you met—has been on his own since he was six or seven."

Janeway was taken aback. "Your people allow children to go unsupervised and uncared for? Who makes sure he has food to eat, and shelter?"

"The other Creoheem, I suppose," he offered nonchalantly. "He could have a better life in one of the Restidian sponsored encampments, but he has escaped both times he was placed there."

Kathryn narrowed her eyebrows at the man, scrutinizing his face. It carried an expression of indifference and arrogance that galled her. "So those are his options? To live as a captive or to be a vagrant?"

"The Restidians took rightful possession of Creoheem lands. The spoils of war, Captain. The orphans the war created could be relocated if they wanted to be. But they seem to prefer fending for themselves."

Janeway propped a leg up on her desk. "Jamari can’t be more than thirteen. How old were you when you left home?"

He smiled, a fond expression on his face. "I was twenty. My mother wanted to keep us in the nest longer, but my father made her relinquish her hold then."

"Could you have cared for yourself at thirteen?"

He shrugged noncommittally. "Perhaps, if I had been on my own as long as Jamari."

"Would your government allow Jamari to come with us, if he wanted to?"

The Sergeant Regent laughed. "Why would you want Creoheem scum to join your crew?" he asked derisively. Seeing Janeway was serious, he added "You’d never get him to go. Not without his sister. He is very close to her, from what he told me. Most of what he steals, he takes home to her."

Kathryn quirked an eyebrow. "Where is home for them?"

"I couldn’t guess," he admitted. "But the Restidian government would let you take all the Creoheem you want, Captain. The more, the better."

Janeway scowled. "I’m sure they would be grateful to us," she said sarcastically.

 

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

Captain Kathryn Janeway sat at a round table with her spouse, Seven of Nine, sharing an intimate laugh in the candlelight. She watched her crew and their guests milling around, some dancing, some dining, all looking their best. She nudged Seven as Naomi and Kieran entered together, Kieran looking happier than she could remember for a very long time.

"Look at them," Kathryn whispered to Seven. "I think Kato is finally realizing she belongs with Naomi."

Seven quirked an eyebrow at Kathryn. "You concluded this from what, exactly?"

Kathryn blanched. "Look at her. She’s smiling like a Cheshire cat. And she can’t take her eyes off our daughter."

Seven smiled faintly. "Nor can most of the assembled guests, my darling. Naomi is extraordinarily beautiful."

"That’s because she takes after you, my love," Kathryn advised her, patting her hand.

"I think," Seven ignored the compliment, "it is Naomi who radiates love for Kieran. She hangs on every word the woman utters. Kieran, on the other hand, is particularly dense when it comes to matters of the heart," she sniffed.

"Seven, that’s a terrible thing to say," Kathryn chastised her. "What’s gotten into you?"

Seven fixed her with a discerning eye. "I am being forthright. Naomi has loved Kieran for years, and now that they are free to do something about it, Kieran has made no overtures to assure Naomi of her feelings. I believe it is because Kieran is oblivious to Naomi’s feelings for her. She thinks she is in love alone," Seven concluded.

Kathryn sipped her whiskey and soda. "No," she objected. "She’d have to be blind to miss it, Seven," she insisted. "Naomi is so guileless and open."

"Yes. But you know Kieran as well as I do. It is her greatest failing, to perpetually underestimate herself. After her experiences aboard the Sagan, her self-confidence has been badly undermined. She would never think she is good enough for Naomi," Seven countered.

Kathryn watched the couple crossing the room in their direction. "You really think so?"

Seven nodded her affirmation. "Pay attention, and it will become apparent as they interact. Mark my words," Seven stated without question.

The dashing Captain and the fetching Lieutenant joined the married couple, exchanging welcoming kisses and smiling at each other. "Can I get you something to drink, Na?" Kieran offered.

Kathryn grinned facetiously. "Yeah, Na—how ‘bout a little hair of the dog?" she teased, having heard from Seven about Naomi’s drinking binge.

"Funny, Mom," Naomi drawled without amusement. "I’d like some white wine. Thanks."

"Ladies?" Kieran queried. "Refresh your drinks?"

Kathryn shook her head. Seven handed her a glass. "Iced tea," she intoned flatly.

Kieran frowned. "Are you still pissed at me, your Borgness?"

"I am Borg. I do not get pissed," Seven advised coolly. "However, do not get my daughter intoxicated again, or I will have to show you what I do get." Then seeing Kieran had no clue she was kidding, Seven grinned broadly. "I could poke you with a pain stick," she threatened.

Kieran relaxed then, laughing. "It’s a good day to die," she smarted.

As the lanky Captain wandered off to find refreshments, Naomi’s eyes followed her path. "She looks great, doesn’t she?" she mentioned to no one in particular.

Seven smirked and Kathryn hid her amusement behind her drink. "She looks very well. Fully recovered," Seven agreed.

"Not just that," Naomi murmured. "Attractive. She’s just so cute," she said dreamily.

Kathryn fixed her with a stern look. "Young lady, are you ever going to tell her how you feel?"

Naomi reluctantly returned Kathryn’s gaze. "Eventually," she replied. "Just—I don’t know what to say. She’s so vulnerable right now, and I don’t want her to think I’m taking advantage of that. I have to be sure she’s ready to hear what I want to tell her."

Seven looked pointedly at Kathryn. "You don’t think she can already tell what you feel?"

Naomi frowned sadly. "Not a clue. She can be so thick sometimes," she complained. "But I don’t want to be the one to make the first move. I’ve cared for her so long, I won’t really believe she wants me unless it comes from her."

Seven mouthed the words "I told you so" to Kathryn as Naomi turned her face to follow Kieran again, watching her approach.

"Let her come to you in her own time, Na," Kathryn counseled. "It may take longer than you want, but she will come around. I’m sure of it."

Naomi took Kathryn’s hand. "You had better be right about this. I don’t think I can take it if you’re not."

Kieran deposited the beverages on the table and rejoined her date. "Nice party, Kat. You’ve outdone yourself," Kieran praised her former boss.

"You know, Kato, B'Elanna used to always rib you about how badly you dance. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you do it, I can’t remember just how bad you are. Why don’t you and Naomi go give it a whirl? I could use a good laugh," she taunted her best friend.

"That’s cold, Kathryn," Kieran snarled playfully. "B'Elanna exaggerated shamelessly. Why, I haven’t broken anyone’s toes in—oh—two or three years," she defended herself. She turned to Naomi. "Do you want to risk it?" she offered.

"Absolutely," Naomi smiled broadly, anxious to be physically near the object of her affections.

Kieran stood and pulled Naomi’s chair back as the younger woman rose to her feet, extending her arm to escort her properly.

"Mind her train, Kato, or you’ll break your neck," Kathryn jabbed.

Kieran was walking away as if ignoring the remark, her hand on the exposed flesh of Naomi’s back, but Kathryn noticed Kieran was flipping her off discreetly with that very hand. She burst out laughing.

"What is it?" Seven was startled.

Kathryn chuckled. "Kieran. She just made an obscene gesture at me."

Seven rolled her eyes with disgust. "You act like an adolescent boy when you’re with her, Kathryn," she admonished.

"Do not," Kathryn shot back, grinning and sticking her tongue out at Seven.

Out on the dance floor, Kieran nervously poised herself to dance with Naomi, but if Naomi noticed, she wasn’t saying anything. They took a few turns, getting used to each other’s stride, moving more effortlessly together as they adjusted to each other. Kieran began to relax, and realized she was enjoying herself. Naomi was radiant, and there were several admirers watching her with a keen interest, Kieran noticed. She resisted the urge to look smugly over at them, especially the group of young officers clustered together in a clique.

"She isn’t really with her, is she?" one Lieutenant asked another. Kieran overheard them, and danced closer to catch the conversation.

"No. They’re old friends," the dark haired young man replied.

"Old being the operative word," the first one joked. "The Captain is graying already. Naomi is—she’s just—so damned sexy," he murmured.

Kieran flinched at the unkind cut. I must look ridiculous with someone so young. They think she’s humoring me. And she probably is.

"I think I’ll ask to step in," the arrogant one ventured. "Watch and learn, boys." He made his way past two couples and walked up to Naomi and Kieran. "Captain," he nodded formally. "May I cut in?"

Kieran smiled tightly, and dropped Naomi’s hand. "That’s up to the lady," she replied, stepping away so the young man could step in.

"No, thank you," Naomi didn’t even look at him, keeping her body turned toward Kieran. "I have the partner I want."

The rejection hung in the air like a flatulent stench.

"My mistake," he said, blushing with humiliation. All of his friends had overheard and were slapping each other with glee.

Kieran smiled sympathetically, but couldn’t resist getting him back for the ‘old’ insult. "Some of us just improve with age, Lieutenant," she told him, and watched his eyes go wide. "And just because I’m old doesn’t mean my hearing is poor," she added.

"My apologies, Ma’am," he muttered as he scurried away.

Naomi scrutinized Kieran, an enigmatic expression on her face. "What was that about?"

"That little piss-ant was just telling his friends how you and I can’t really be together, because I’m too old. I thought I’d bust him down a notch or two."

Naomi was indignant. "Well then I’m glad I blew him off. What an asshole!"

Kieran glowed knowing Naomi was miffed on her behalf. "Are you having fun, sweetie?" she asked after a long silence.

Naomi pulled Kieran closer. "The best," she said quietly next to Kieran’s cheek.

Kieran felt a thrill run down her spine at the soft warmth of Naomi’s breath next to her ear. She couldn’t suppress a shiver. The fragrance of Naomi’s bare skin subdued her, ushered her to a state of arousal, and she wanted desperately to press her lips against those creamy, perfect shoulders. Stop it, KT. Kathryn will kill you. Seven will kill you. And you’ll ruin your friendship with Na.

Just then a slow song began. Kieran was about to beg off and return to their table, but Naomi pulled her up short. "One more dance?" she asked sweetly wearing a beguiling smile.

Kieran could refuse her nothing. "If you really want to," she said hoarsely. Oh God, help me, she pleaded inwardly. Don’t think about how much you want to kiss her, KT. Don’t think about how incredible she feels, or how good she smells, or how much you want to make love to her. Don’t think about how hard it is going to be to say goodbye to her again when you ship out. Don’t think about how much you want to be with her. Kathryn would kill you. And Naomi deserves better.

Naomi slipped her arms around Kieran’s neck, pressing herself against the taller woman, swaying gently to the music. Kieran’s hands rested on the small of Naomi’s back and on her bare shoulders, and she had to consciously stop herself from letting her hand ghost over the delicate curve of those shoulders. She could feel the swell of Naomi’s breasts against her own, and she had to remind herself to keep breathing. The sweetest torture that ever could be, she realized. How could I let this happen? How could I not protect myself? God, I love her. I want her. I must be insane to do this to myself.

Naomi’s hand cupped the back of Kieran’s neck, and her fingers toyed with the short tufts of Kieran’s hair, feeling the baby-fine texture of the newly regrown strands. Kieran’s body hummed with electricity everywhere Naomi touched her, and the overwhelming sensation made her legs weak. When Naomi scratched the nape of her neck with careful fingernails, more a caress than a scratch, Kieran arched and drew a shuddering breath. Oh shit, did I just do that? Her mind raced in a panic.

Without warning, she stepped out of Naomi’s arms. "I’m a little tired," she lied, wringing her hands. "If it’s okay, I think I’m going to get some fresh air on the balcony."

Naomi stared after her, a piteous expression tugging at the edges of her full lips. Too much, you idiot, she scolded herself. You scared her. You have to let her come to you. K-Mom said so.

Out on the balcony, Kieran leaned over the railing, eyes clenched tightly closed, gulping air. She was on the verge of tears, so acute was her frustration. Maybe now she’ll dance with one of those boys, she prayed silently. Please, Na. Get me off the hook, here. I can’t get myself under a tight enough rein to pull this ‘we’re only friends’ routine off.

"Hey Kieran," Geejay Janeway scooted out the door and up to the taller Captain. "Are you okay?" she asked with alarm. "You look awful," she added bluntly.

Kieran shook her head. "I’m fine. Just—your sister," she admitted.

Geejay settled her cadet’s uniform nonchalantly. "She can be a handful, I imagine," Geejay said noncommittally. "Don’t do anything you’re not really ready for," she advised, laying a careful hand on Kieran’s back. "Well, I’ve got to get back to my date," she added, grinning. "Want to come by and say hello?"

Kieran looked up. "Why, do I know him or her?"

Geejay quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah. Eilish MacDougal."

Kieran’s jaw dropped. "You lie."

Geejay smirked. "Nope. In fact, there she is now," she waved to the pretty physical therapist, who spotted Kieran and immediately headed in the other direction. "Nice, KT. I see you have a real way with women," she teased. "I hope you won’t scare Naomi away, too."

"I’m glad to see you’re dating again, Geejay. Katie would have wanted you to find happiness. I hope you will," Kieran said sincerely.

Geejay looked back in the direction of her date, thought This is more important, and slapped Kieran on the back. "How about a drink?" the blonde haired blue eyed replica of Seven asked.

"By my calculations, Geejay, you’ve got six more months before you’re legal," Kieran declined.

"Okay, I’ll have soda. What can I bring you?" Geejay smiled persuasively.

"Vodka tonic," Kieran acquiesced.

Kieran stood there for several minutes, staring out at the lights on the bay, admiring the bridge as it stretched into the blackness of the city. Don’t do anything I’m not really ready for? What the hell did that mean? Don’t scare Naomi away? Can she tell what I’m feeling for Na?

"Here we go," Geejay handed her a glass and sipped at her own cola. "KT, I know we haven’t really talked since B'Elanna and Katie died. Oh, I appreciate that you’ve kept our lunch date, but we’ve avoided certain topics," she said truthfully, running her fingers through her short blonde hair. "And there’s probably not a lot to say, except I know what you’re feeling. Maybe it’s on a lesser scale, and I certainly didn’t have a long history with Katie—not nearly as long as I would have liked," she grimaced as if she’d been punched. "But I know what you’re going through. All the plans you made, all the dreams you shared, the whole structure of what you expected your life to be—it’s all gone. It’s frightening and disconcerting," Geejay laid her hand over Kieran’s. "And it’s the hardest thing of all, to decide it’s okay to move on and not feel guilty about it."

Kieran shakily swallowed half her drink. "You do understand. I’m sorry you do. I wouldn’t wish this on anybody."

Geejay stared out across the water, not meeting Kieran’s eyes, afraid she would lose her composure. "Not even the fucking Cardassians," Geejay echoed Kieran’s thoughts. "I loved your daughter with everything I am, KT. I wanted to make a life with her. Be glad at least you got to do that with B'Elanna."

Kieran smiled faintly, if bitterly. "I am glad for that."

Geejay half-turned to make eye contact. "B'Elanna loved you, Kieran. She would’ve wanted you to be happy, too, just as much as Katie would want me to be happy. So why do you keep pretending you’re not in love with my sister?" she cut to the chase.

Kieran stalled by finishing her drink. "I practically raised her," she explained sadly. "It’s like there’s this dichotomy in my mind between the little girl who was like my own daughter, and the thirty-something engineer who is drop dead gorgeous and all woman. I can’t seem to reconcile the two sides."

"I guess that could seem confusing," Geejay allowed.

"Not to mention that Kathryn and Seven would probably never understand or forgive me," she shook her head, studying the ice in her glass. "Kat would tell me to stop acting like a cadet—no offense," she amended apologetically.

Geejay overlooked the insult. "So let me get this straight, KT. You’re in love with Naomi, and she’s in love with you, but you’re too afraid of K-Mom to admit it, and that leaves Naomi thinking you don’t know she’s alive," she summed it up.

"I didn’t say Naomi loves me," Kieran protested.

Geejay seriously considered shaking the senior officer. "Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, KT," she said sharply. She watched Kieran’s face momentarily. "God, you really don’t know, do you?" she muttered in disbelief. "Kieran, wake up already. Naomi is—has always been—crazy in love with you. Everytime she meets someone, she dates them just long enough to figure out they’ll never live up to your image, and she dumps them. She hasn’t ever been serious about anyone, ever, because she couldn’t get past loving you," Geejay informed her.

Kieran regarded her skeptically. "Are you really sure, Geejay? I mean, totally sure?" Kieran frowned, her brow furrowing. "I’m old enough to be her mother," she added softly.

Geejay laughed. "I don’t think she’s noticed. And believe me, her feelings for you are definitely not maternal," she snickered. "She goes on ad infinitum about how cute you are, how hot, all that junk. It’s pretty nauseating, at times."

Kieran scowled at her friend. "Now I know you’re making it up. Naomi wouldn’t talk like that," Kieran nudged her playfully.

Geejay crossed her arms defiantly. "You don’t have the privilege—or the misfortune, I’m not sure which it is—of being her late night confidante. You wouldn’t believe the stuff she tells me. It’d make you blush."

"Honestly?" Kieran asked in a voice so small and vulnerable that Geejay felt sorry for her.

"Yes, honestly. Look, KT, I know I’m a wise-ass. I know I don’t act like I take anything seriously, especially since Katie died. But I wouldn’t tease or joke or exaggerate about something this important to Naomi. She’s a pain in the ass, but I love her. And I know she’s in love with you."

Then it all came rushing out, the anguish, the love, the desire, the frustration. Admitting it to someone was such a relief, Kieran felt almost hopeful. Then she stopped suddenly, dismayed. "Listen to me. Like Kathryn could ever accept Naomi and I together."

Geejay sighed, exasperated. "God almighty, what am I, your mediator? K-Mom is trying so hard to be neutral, because she’s afraid of pushing you too hard. For Christ’s sake, Kieran, she sees how much Naomi loves you. She had to practically drag Naomi back to Voyager when you were released from Starfleet Medical, to keep Naomi from spilling her guts to you and making your recovery worse. K-Mom wants Naomi to be happy, and she’s savvy enough to know that won’t happen without you in the picture."

"Kathryn would approve? You’re sure of that?" Kieran demanded.

"I know it. I asked her flat out, because Naomi was as worried as you are. K-Mom told me ‘Naomi wants Kieran so much, how could I want anything else for her?’ That’s what she said."

Another vodka tonic later, Kieran was still not convinced, but returned to her date with her raging hormones and impure thoughts silenced. "I’m sorry I left you alone so long," she said softly as she rejoined Naomi at their table. "I ran into someone on the patio."

Naomi smiled apologetically, knowing full well why Kieran had run off. "It’s okay. I had a nice conversation with Rachel McVicker."

"I haven’t seen her in a couple of years," Kieran smiled. "How is she?"

Kathryn leaned over, taking advantage of the opportunity. "She’s crazy about Naomi, that’s how she is," Kathryn’s grin was almost feral. "She’s been trying to win her over for longer than I can remember."

Kieran was stunned. Well, there it is. No more delusions of grandeur for you, KT. Can’t compete with that one, not in a million years. Just a matter of time before Naomi realizes Rachel is fantastic. "Rachel’s a wonderful woman," she recovered nicely. "Why haven’t you gone out with her, Na?"

It was Naomi’s turn to be stunned. God, she really is clueless. "Who says I haven’t gone out with her?"

"Oh," Kieran sank back into her chair, deflated. "Well, honey, why didn’t you invite her to this party then?" she asked gently, a tone of reproach in her voice. "You don’t have to watch out for me anymore, Na," she took the fine-boned hand of her companion. "I didn’t know you were involved. You never said anything. If you want to go find her, it’s okay—I can go on home."

"No," Naomi protested too forcefully. "I wanted to come with you, KT. I am not involved with Rachel. She’s just not—my type," Naomi finished lamely.

Kieran regarded her sadly. "I don’t understand you at all sometimes, Wildwoman. Rachel is smart and pretty and insightful enough to know what a catch you’d be. I’ve never known you to be serious about anyone. Don’t you think it’s about time? Aren’t you ever lonely?"

Seven crossed her arms as if to say "There, Kathryn. Proof positive that she is dense beyond words."

Naomi hung her head. "Yes. Sometimes. But it always passes."

Kieran lifted her chin with two fingers, meeting her eyes. "You’re missing so much, honey. Kat, Seven," she implored them, "tell her. It’s a shame to put yourself on the shelf like this, Na. My God, you’re young, you’re vibrant, you’re brilliant—and you’re so beautiful, sweetie. You have so much to offer someone," she urged.

"When the time is right, I will offer everything," she said softly. "But the right time hasn’t come yet."

Kieran shook her head. "You’re sure you want to stick this night out with me? Rachel would probably kill to be with you tonight, with you looking like that," she couldn’t hide the longing in her voice.

Kathryn put her hand on Seven’s arm to focus her attention on Kieran’s tone.

"I came with you, I want to leave with you. Will you dance with me again?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course," Kieran forced a smile. "All night, if you want."

They danced for a half an hour before another slow song came up. Kieran knew then, holding Naomi close to her, there wasn’t enough alcohol in the universe to deaden the longing she felt for the strawberry blonde pressed intimately against her. Naomi draped her arms around Kieran’s neck, leaving Kieran no choice but to rest her hands on Naomi’s hips. She tried not to be conscious of her hands, cupping the tiny waist of her companion, but they felt so huge to her, she moved them restlessly. To Naomi, the motion felt like a very provocative caress, and she sighed against Kieran’s neck, the gentle exhalation of air skating over the Captain’s throat and cheek.

The sensation washed over Kieran, and she slid her arms around Naomi, encircling her tightly at the waist and shoulders. Her hand cupping the hollow between Naomi’s shoulder blades seemed to have a mind of its own, brushing carefully over the softest skin Kieran could imagine. Naomi closed her eyes as she surrendered to the tingling that crept up her back, her face coming to rest against Kieran’s with an almost imperceptible nuzzle.

Kieran brushed her cheek against Naomi’s in return, and Naomi interpreted that as permission to follow with her lips. Kieran squeezed her dance partner as she felt a tentative kiss on her face, really not so much a kiss as a chance encounter of cheek and lips. Naomi’s breath caressed her ear, and Kieran repressed a groan, emitting a shaking breath instead. She felt fingers move to stroke her hair, toying with the lengthening thatch at the nape of her neck, and the unmistakable caress of a kiss placed beneath her jaw. She pressed her face against Naomi’s, whispering "My God, Naomi, do you have any idea what that does to me?"

"I know what I hope it does," Naomi murmured, breathing gently in Kieran’s ear.

Their lips came together then, softly seeking permission, hesitant and questioning, so faint neither was certain they had kissed. Naomi pressed her advantage, cradling Kieran’s face in her hand, and leaving nothing to uncertainty, met her gaze with confidence and lifted her mouth to Kieran’s to kiss her soundly. The world stopped around them, dissolving into white noise and blurred motion in the periphery of their singular focus. They were no longer dancing, but stood stock still in the center of the dance floor, kissing each other. Naomi’s crewmates, who had never known her to date anyone, stopped dancing around her. Though it was rude, several looked on in wonder at the tableau, knowing if the Chief of Engineering was kissing anyone at all, it was very serious indeed. Kieran had no idea how long they stood there. She didn’t care. All that mattered in that moment of time was the fact that she had miraculously fallen in love again, and even more miraculously, that the love was returned.

When they finally parted to catch their breath, the curious onlookers snapped back into action, resuming their own dancing and conversations. Naomi leaned her head against Kieran’s chin, and Kieran instinctively kissed her hair, nuzzling the long red-gold tresses. "Naomi," she said hoarsely. "What just happened?"

Naomi nestled into her, smiling. "I just kissed you. You remember, you were there."

Kieran drew a shaking breath, her emotions rampant. "I’ve wanted to do that all day. Last night I got drunk so I wouldn’t."

"Why KT? Why not just kiss me?" Naomi murmured regretfully.

"I didn’t think you would let me," Kieran replied honestly. "And your mothers will phaser me dead for it."

Naomi kissed her again, lingering over the taste and texture and the warmth of the embrace. "My mothers," she whispered against Kieran’s cheek, "are probably doing backflips. They’ve watched me suffer with unrequited love my whole life. They know what I’ve been through, being in love with you and never able to say so."

Kieran kissed her forehead reverently. "Your whole life? Why didn’t you ever tell me?"

"You were married. And I loved B'Elanna and Katie too. What would have been the point?"

Kieran hugged her with crushing fierceness. "I never intended for you to be alone, Na. I would have found a way to be happy for you, even if you were with someone else."

Naomi chuckled softly. "I tried to be with other people, but none of them were you. I never got past a few dates, an occasional furtive kiss—it just never seemed right. Unless I could find someone that made me feel the way you always have, I wasn’t going down that path."

Kieran held her possessively, thanking whoever might be listening for the gift she’d been given. "You know, there’s something else I’ve wanted to do all night," she spoke next to Naomi’s ear.

"What’s that?" Naomi asked in a throaty voice.

Kieran stooped just enough to press her lips against Naomi’s bare throat and kissed her in a subtle, slow descending motion down the curve of her neck and across her shoulders. Naomi clutched at her back, riveted to the spot. "That," Kieran told her quietly. "That dress has been driving me wild. You’re so incredibly gorgeous," she sighed.

"You’ve told me so many times how pretty I am, I’m starting to believe you," Naomi smiled up at her partner. "You really like the dress?"

Kieran closed her eyes against the fresh wave of desire that washed over her. "It’s incredible. You’re incredible. It’s the most provocative thing you could have chosen."

Naomi snuggled against Kieran’s chest, letting the larger woman cradle her. "Provocative? How?"

Kieran laughed softly. "Like you don’t know?"

Naomi looked innocently up at her, shaking her head.

"Well," Kieran brushed her lips over Naomi’s ear, warm and mesmerizing, before telling her quietly "your shoulders are completely bare, and I’ve wanted to kiss them endlessly," she explained, feeling Naomi’s body yield with her words. "And your back is exposed, which is an invitation for my hands to wander over the soft slope of your skin," she demonstrated with only her fingertips, the caress so light it raised chills. "The front is cut so low, I can almost see your breasts," she inhaled sharply as she thought about those breasts, "and I just want to slide my hands beneath the fabric and push it off, so I can see all of you," she murmured, thinking her heart might burst from her chest.

Naomi was breathing perceptibly harder. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" Kieran kissed her throat gently, feeling her pulse with her lips.

"Make me want you with just words?" Naomi cupped the back of Kieran’s head in her hand, arching against her lips.

"The same way you made me want you by just looking like you do," Kieran whispered.

"You know, it’s getting late, KT. We could go back to your place," Naomi suggested. "You could show me exactly what you just described."

Kieran felt a surge of warmth in her belly at the thought. "Oh God," she breathed. "We’d better say goodbye to your mothers, if I can let go of you long enough."

"Don’t let go," Naomi urged.

Kieran kissed her full on the mouth. "Never," she assured her. "Come on," she wrapped an arm protectively around Naomi’s waist, guiding her across the floor to their table.

Kieran grew progressively redder as they approached, seeing the smug look on Kathryn’s face.

"K-Mom, we’re going to go," Naomi leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Borg-Mom, goodnight," she kissed Seven’s cheek in turn.

Kieran stood there, dumb, too self-conscious to say anything.

Kathryn considered taking pity on her, but decided against it. "Kato? Cat got your tongue?"

Seven grinned wickedly. "That was not a cat, darling. That was Naomi."

Kieran flushed crimson. "Good night, your Borgness. Captain," she bowed just to hide her face.

"Now wait a minute, Kieran Thompson. Don’t you have something to say?" Kathryn needled her.

Kieran held Naomi tighter. "Yes. I’m in love with your daughter. So if you’re going to object, tell me now."

Naomi stamped her foot. "It’s not up to her, KT."

Kieran looked down at her beloved, her face soft and sincere. "Your mother is my dearest and oldest friend. If she doesn’t approve, how can I defy her?"

Kathryn laughed in their faces. "You don’t need my permission, Kato," she shook her head.

"Yes I do," Kieran persisted. "Your opinion means the world to me, Kat," she pleaded. "I have to know my loving Naomi won’t put a wall between you and I."

Seeing how important it was to her best friend, Kathryn stood up and kissed Kieran’s cheek. "I want you to be happy, Kieran. I know Naomi will be happy with you, she’s loved you for so long. If you need my blessing, you certainly have it."

Kieran hugged her around the neck, whispering hoarsely, "Thank you, Kat." She blinked back the tears that sprung to her eyes, slipped her arm back around Naomi’s waist, and kissed the crown of her red-gold hair. "Are you ready honey?"

Naomi nodded. They said good night again and moved toward the exit of the ballroom. As they stepped into the hallway, Kieran was startled by the chirp of her comm badge.

"Admiral Picard to Captain Thompson."

Kieran frowned, stopping to reply. "Thompson here."

"Kieran," Picard replied, rolling the ‘r’ in her name in his usual manner. "I’m sorry to disturb you so late, but I have important information coming in from Starfleet Intelligence that I think you’ll want to see. How soon can you come to my office?"

"I’m at the InterGalactic Suites, Sir," she replied, pulling Naomi in for a hug and a quick kiss. "I can transport from the lobby. Stand by." She gazed apologetically at her date. "Honey, why don’t you go back to the party?"

"Captain," Admiral Picard came back. "If you like, you can bring your date with you."

Guess I didn’t seal the channel. Damn, is my motor coordination ever going to be 100%? "Aye sir, I will." Then to Naomi, "if that’s okay."

Naomi nodded enthusiastically. "I’d love to meet him."

They materialized in the Admiral’s Office at Starfleet Command, resplendent in their formal attire. Picard held out his hands to his old crewmate. "Kieran," he smiled fondly. "You look splendid." He took her hands and kissed her cheek. "I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to see you since the funeral. But Deanna keeps me apprised of your recovery."

"Thank you, Sir. Deanna keeps me on my toes, Sir." Then remembering her manners, she smiled at Naomi. "Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, this is Lieutenant Naomi Wildman, the Chief Engineer of Voyager-C. Naomi, Admiral Picard."

"Ah, Ms. Wildman—Kathryn Janeway’s daughter?" Naomi nodded. "Very good. So nice to meet you. Can I offer you something? I was about to have a cup of Earl Grey myself."

"No, Admiral, thank you," Naomi said politely.

"What’s this about?" Kieran got to the point.

Picard waved them over to sit down in front of his desk, rubbing his hand over his bald pate. "Starfleet Intelligence reports that the terrorists who destroyed the Sagan have been taken into custody and are being extradited to DS9 where a tribunal will be convened to bring charges."

Kieran’s face went ashen, but her eyes glittered with hatred. "That’s excellent news, Admiral."

"The tribunal has subpoenaed you to give evidence against the terrorists. We will need to leave in the morning. I’m taking a security escort with us. Deanna Troi has offered to accompany us, as well, in case you need psychological shoring up. Kieran," he gentled his tone, "I don’t expect this is going to be anything but terribly unpleasant. Are you well enough to do it?"

"Yes Sir. I’m the most qualified person to testify. Is Commander Icheb also being called?"

Picard nodded. "However, as you and he are the most critical material witnesses, you will not be travelling together. Too risky."

"I want to go," Naomi interjected softly.

Picard’s eyebrow raised elegantly. "Lieutenant, that would not be—prudent."

"I understand, Sir. However, I believe Kieran—Captain Thompson—needs me as much as she needs Deanna Troi," Naomi was resolute.

"Absolutely not," Kieran snapped at her. "I’m not putting you in harm’s way, not like this. I’ll be gone a few days, that’s all," she took Naomi’s hand. "It will be okay, sweetie."

Picard smiled indulgently at his old friend, instantly able to ascertain that something serious was afoot between the two women. "Shall I presume, Lieutenant, that you’ll be requesting a transfer to Captain Thompson’s new ship?"

"Yes, Sir," Naomi replied immediately. "Captain Thompson needs a Chief Engineer."

Picard scrutinized the two women, steepling his fingers together. "That may be a problem, Lieutenant. There is a qualified applicant that outranks you."

"Isn’t it my choice, Sir?" Kieran was indignant.

"Ordinarily, I’d say yes, Captain, but you’ve kept the post open so long that Starfleet would have something to say about it. Besides, even if it were your discretion, you’d be hard pressed to explain taking a less senior applicant."

Naomi set her jaw. "It’s okay, Kieran. I’ll serve under whomever they want. I’m not going to be apart from you."

Picard smiled inwardly at the young woman’s obvious devotion. "Naomi," he calmly intoned, "you are far too qualified to take a subordinate role on any ship." His eyes twinkled with merriment. "But there may be a way around all this red tape. Captain, you and I will discuss it after we arrive at DS9. Lieutenant, don’t fret. Leave this in our capable hands. Now ladies, Captain Thompson has some packing to do. Meet Deanna and I here at 0600 hours, Kieran."

"Aye, Admiral," Kieran replied formally. "Na, would you wait outside a second? I want to ask the Admiral something."

"Yes, Captain," Naomi knew how to behave in any situation. "Admiral, it was a pleasure to finally meet you."

Picard shook her hand. "Ms. Wildman. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you again very soon."

As she gathered her train and left the office, Kieran turned to her old mentor.

"She’s lovely, Kieran, truly. And I’m so glad to see you’ve recovered yourself completely. B'Elanna was an amazing woman. It can’t have been an easy transition," he said sincerely.

"Naomi is equally amazing, Sir. God knows, she’s helped me get through this in ways I can’t even understand. She helped me learn to talk again." Then leaning in closer, she asked "Can you really cut through the red tape, Sir?"

Picard grinned. "Yes. But you’ll have to marry her."

Kieran smiled broadly. "That’s not a problem, Sir. Unless, of course, she says no."

"Oh, I doubt that," Picard chuckled. "The way she was looking at you, I’d say she’s just waiting for you to ask, Captain." He took his chin between this thumb and forefinger. "The issue rarely comes up, but there is historical precedent that Starfleet cannot ignore."

Kieran nodded vigorously. "I remember now. We learned it in command school—marriage equals one rank level. So if Naomi and I get married, it puts her on the same footing as a Lieutenant Commander."

"Precisely," Picard concluded. "Of course, you could also have her take the Bridge Officer’s exam. If she passed, she’d be a Lieutenant Commander."

Kieran considered it. "I’m a little surprised she’s never taken the exam. I suspect Kathryn keeps her too busy to study for it. But if she takes the exam and we get married, then the candidate you’re referring too would be outranked by the marriage equals one rank rule."

Picard laughed. "Remind me never to play poker with you," he chuckled. "Now then, Captain. You have some decisions to make. I have some last minute preparations myself. Captain Janeway is going to have to come with us, as the Senior Investigator into the terrorist attack. I need to contact her."

"Thank you, Sir, for your advice about Naomi. Can I ask you something?" Kieran lowered her voice.

"Of course, Captain. You have my permission to speak freely."

"Do you think I should let her go with us to DS9?" Kieran wanted so much to be with Naomi, but didn’t want to endanger her.

"If it were my partner, I would insist she go to a safe place. I don’t need to tell you, Kieran, this terrorist faction is ruthless. You’re their primary target right now, not necessarily because you intend to give evidence against them, but because it would be a highly visible victory for them if they were able to get to you before you can testify. If Naomi is with you, she becomes a target, as well," he moved his hands as he spoke.

"My thoughts, exactly," Kieran agreed. "I know she’s going to have a tantrum, though."

Picard grinned. "I see your penchant for fiery women continues," he smirked, thinking of B'Elanna .

"My weakness," Kieran admitted. "Well, Sir, I’ll see you in a few hours, then. Good night."

Kieran stepped into the hallway where Naomi was patiently waiting for her. She saw Naomi start to open her mouth, and forestalled the inevitable argument by holding up her hand like a traffic cop. "Before you jump all over me, hear me out, sweetie," she began, gathering Naomi into her arms again, and kissing her fiercely.

Naomi’s head was swimming when they broke the kiss. "Not fair, Kieran," she bitched. "You can’t take my breath away like that and then expect me to have a rational conversation with you. I’m going," she stated flatly, spinning on her heel and walking toward the turbolift.

Kieran grabbed her wrist and spun her around as the turbolift doors closed behind her. "You’re not going," she reiterated. "It’s not safe. Damn it, Na, I’ve already lost one wife to these bastards."

Naomi stuck her chin out defiantly. "I’m not your wife. And if I were, you couldn’t stop me from going."

"No, I couldn’t. But please, listen to reason. Picard just told me I’m the number one target for assassination in these guys’ book. He told me if you’re with me, you become a target, too. I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. And there are things you can be doing here to help our cause."

"Against the terrorists?" her eyes lit up.

"Well, not exactly," Kieran put an arm around her waist as they exited the building. "Picard told me that there’s a candidate for Chief Engineer of my ship—which I already knew—who outranks you. Starfleet will make me take him, and they will not transfer you as his subordinate when you’re already Chief of Voyager," she explained as they walked down the sidewalk toward the building where her quarters were located. "If you stay here while I go to DS9, you can study for the Bridge Officer’s exam and earn your Lieutenant Commander rank. Even better, you could still go to your Grandmother’s house, and study from there. When you’re ready for the test, you can come back to HQ to take it."

"But that puts me on equal footing with this other candidate, correct?" Naomi wisely noted. "Starfleet could still make you take him, if he has seniority."

"Yes, they would, and yes, he does. But if you and I get married and you pass the exam, you automatically outrank him by one grade level. Then there’s no way Starfleet can keep us apart or refuse to let you be my Chief of Engineering," Kieran pointed out logically. She pulled them up short on the sidewalk in front of her quadrangle, knelt before her intended, and said "I hate to be so pragmatic, and I know it’s not the most romantic or the best of circumstances, but I love you, Naomi Wildman, and I want to marry you. Will you marry me?"

Naomi felt conflicted at that moment. She wanted to be with Kieran more than anything, but she did not want to be set aside for her protection. Kieran was gazing up at her with such love and longing, deep brown eyes pleading for her to be reasonable, and Naomi felt her heart relent. "Yes, but only if you take me with you," she answered softly.

Kieran leapt off the ground, throwing her hands up in disgust. "I just explained why you can’t go," she hissed, stomping down the walkway toward the double doors.

Naomi trotted after her, grabbing her arm, bringing her back around to face the words she offered. "Yes, and you have to understand, Kieran, if we’re married, I’m in this with you totally. You can’t lock me away in a holding cell where I’ll be safe everytime our ship goes into battle. You can’t ask me to hide while you’re in danger. If you truly love me, let it be for who I am, and understand, I will never hide from your enemies. I will always face them with you, side by side. That’s a partnership. That’s a marriage."

Captain Kathryn Janeway and Seven of Nine were marching up the sidewalk, hand in hand, both looking quite grim. Picard had obviously briefed them on the current state of affairs.

The two women overheard the argument Kieran and Naomi were having, and Seven turned to fix Kathryn with a pointed look.

"Listen to your daughter. She understands what marriage is supposed to be about," Seven said under her breath to her wife.

Naomi’s tone was so intensely passionate about her convictions, her eyes fairly threw off sparks. Kieran had never seen this side of her, but she was sure Naomi had learned it from watching B'Elanna Torres for all those years. The warrior persona that had so enthralled her was inherent in her new love, and she could not ignore or refuse it. "Do you understand what you’re getting yourself into, Naomi?" she asked softly. "You could be killed, or captured—tortured, murdered, raped—my God, don’t ask me to risk that."

"You could too, KT," Naomi said resolutely. "So what are we to do? Resign our commissions and settle down somewhere where no one can find us? Then the fucking terrorists win. Is that what you want?"

"Naomi," Kathryn curtly informed her daughter, "you’re going with Seven to Mother’s. Admiral Picard is sending a security detail with you. You will remain in Indiana until this matter is disposed of," she meted out the commands.

"No, I’m not," she volleyed back. "Kieran and I are getting married tonight, and I’m going with you both. While you’re in hearings, I’m going to be studying for the Bridge Officer’s exam. Once I’ve passed it, and you’ve promoted me to Lieutenant Commander, I’m transferring to Kieran’s command."

Kathryn wheeled on her closest friend. "You can’t be seriously considering this, Kato. It’s too risky."

Seven had obviously had the same argument with Kathryn only moments before, and she chimed in. "I think Naomi is absolutely right. And if she’s going, I’m going. This delusional chivalry of yours has to stop, Kathryn. I’m not a china trinket to keep in your vault. I am your spouse, and the most formidable opponent any terrorist will ever encounter. I am Borg," she emphasized.

"Mutiny," Kathryn growled at her wife and daughter, trying to add some levity. "This is not a joke, you two. Admiral Picard thinks the risk is great enough that he’s sending Icheb in separate transport, he and I are taking a different ship, and Kieran and Deanna are taking a third. Each ship is plotting a disparate course of travel. We’re going with a full security escort. Have you ever known Starfleet to exercise such extraordinary precautions?"

Naomi steeled herself for the shouting match she anticipated. "All the more reason to be with those we love," she argued. "Ask Geejay how differently she’d live the last five years of her life if she had it to do over again."

That stung. Kathryn winced from the jab, knowing that Geejay and Katie had been separated against their will for several years, and before they could be together again, Katie died. The regret Kathryn felt over refusing Geejay’s request to go to the Sagan was only tempered by knowing that Geejay was alive because of that refusal. Kathryn recovered her resolve, swallowing the self-recrimination she felt. "Geejay is alive. I’d like to keep you that way, too," she pleaded with her spouse and child.

Naomi smiled piteously at her mother. "K-Mom, don’t you get it? For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel like I am alive. My purpose and direction are so clear to me, and my conviction couldn’t be stronger. I’d rather be with Kieran, and facing the danger with her, than surrounded by guards at Gran’s, safer, but worried sick and miserable. I really believe when it’s my time to go, it’s my time, and nothing anyone says or does will stop it from happening. So let me live my life, however short or long it’s going to be. Let me do what my heart says is right. If you deny me that, you’re taking away my right to self-determination."

Kieran lay a hand on Kathryn’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. "You can’t win this one," she leaned close to her friend and whispered. "She’s been around you and Seven and B'Elanna so long, she may just be the most stubborn person in the universe."

Kathryn glared at her friend. "Is this the kind of marriage you’re going to have, Kato? Are you going to let your wife henpeck you?"

Kieran gazed fondly at her betrothed. "I guess I am," she acquiesced, sliding her arm around Naomi again. "Come on, sweetie. We have to find a Justice of the Peace and we’ve only got three hours to get back to Admiral Picard’s office." She turned to her closest friends, imploring them for a truce. "Are you two coming to witness for us, or do we need to track Geejay and Deanna down?"

Kathryn scowled in defeat. "We’re coming. God, you’re impossible. Weak, weak, weak. I liked it better when I could give you orders," she griped.

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

Kieran rustled through her closet finding a clean, pressed uniform. She snagged a pair of uniform boots, clean underwear, sleeping attire, and a few toiletry items. "Any luck?" she asked Naomi, who was perusing the replicator catalogue.

"These are lovely," Naomi commented, frowning, "but they’re really expensive."

Kieran grinned. "Replicate them. Mine needs to be a size 9," she leaned down and kissed her softly.

"Are you sure? It’s a lot of credits," Naomi, ever the frugal partner, wanted confirmation.

Kieran tossed her things on the bed, came over to the computer console and punched in an access code. "That’s my account balance," she informed her fiancée.

Naomi’s mouth dropped. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"I told you, when B'Elanna and Katie died, I became very wealthy. Starfleet has an outstanding insurance program. That’s why I agreed we should get married tonight. If anything happens to me, you’ll get my insurance and all my assets, including that account balance."

Naomi punched in the commands to transfer the funds, and programmed the replicator to produce their wedding rings. "Nothing is going to happen to you. And honestly, KT, I almost never need currency for anything."

Kieran smiled warmly at her. "Me either, but I’m damned glad to have it, if it means my wife gets the wedding ring she wants. I’m serious, Na. If there’s an engagement ring in there that you like, replicate that too. If not, we can go shopping on DS9, or when we get back home." She folded her clothes neatly into her travel valise, packed her toiletries around them, and tucked her boots on top of the lot. "You know a lot of Federation allies still use currency, so if you ever want to travel, you’ll need it. Think about where you’d like to go for our honeymoon. Anyplace at all that you’d like to see. Don’t think about the cost, just book the trip and we’ll do it." Kieran snapped the travel case shut. "There. Let me run a comb through my hair and I’m ready to go. You better get packing, honey."

Naomi crept out of her seat and over to her beloved, sliding into her arms. "I’m glad we’re at least dressed for the occasion," she murmured.

Kieran dropped her face to kiss her, lingering momentarily over the sensation. "I’m sorry this is so rushed, but I’ll make it up to you. When we get back, we’ll have as big a ceremony as you like, with all the people you want to invite. Okay?"

Naomi smiled into their kiss. "Okay. I would like to have a big wedding. We have a lot of friends. And it’ll be nice to be able to show the naysayers that I didn’t love you in vain all those years."

Kieran bristled. "What naysayers?"

"Oh, people like Tom Paris and Harry Kim. They tried to tell me to just get over loving you, and move on. Harry thought I should move on with him as a partner, in fact."

Kieran held her possessively. "Oh he did, did he? Well, we’ll stick his butt in the front row at the wedding, then," she chuckled. "Now get ready. I’ll get the rings off the replicator tray."

Naomi packed a fresh uniform and various other items, but Kieran could tell she was distracted. "KT?" she asked quietly.

"Yes honey?" Kieran came over to her, taking her in her arms again. "Something wrong?"

"I’ve um—I’ve never—well, I suppose it’s too funny and archaic, but how do you feel about marrying a virgin?" she shyly gazed up into sparkling brown eyes.

Kieran grinned wickedly. "Lucky. You won’t have anyone to compare me to. If I’m awful, you’ll never know," she laughed. "Are you worried about it?"

Naomi rested her head on Kieran’s shoulder. "I’m a little scared. You know? I mean, it’s something I’ve anticipated for a very long time, so it’s weird to think about actually—doing it."

"You know, Na, we might not have a chance for awhile. I may be in briefings for the duration of the trip to DS9, for all I know. You might not see much of me, and I don’t want to hurry or be distracted by anything—not our first time. When I make love to you I want to be able to focus completely on you, on showing you how much I love you, and how that love manifests as physical intimacy. I want to make it as perfect for you as I can. This trip may not be the ideal place for that."

Naomi nodded solemnly. "I love you, KT."

Kieran kissed her forehead. "I love you too. Are you packed?" Naomi nodded. "Good. Let’s get our butts to the transporter pad then."

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

The Justice of the Peace for Starfleet was fairly accustomed to irregular hours for weddings. He was frequently jostled out of bed by his comm signal for crewmen who wanted to marry before shipping out, cadets who decided to tie the knot after a graduation party, and various other matters of urgency. He was a little surprised to be performing a ceremony that entailed a Captain, an adopted daughter of a Captain and a Borg drone, and four fairly famous women from the storied Voyager crew.

Naomi still looked radiant in her formal gown from the party, and Kieran was truly sick of wearing her dress whites, but she was too happy to begrudge Naomi some semblance of a normal wedding ceremony. They exchanged their vows and their rings, kissed each other passionately, signed the necessary paper work, and logged themselves into the central computer as a married couple. Kathryn and Seven signed the papers and entered their personal authorization codes into the database, testifying that the vows were exchanged and the marriage was legal.

Feeling like she’d just stepped off a merry-go-round, Kieran dragged Naomi to the transporter dais and they materialized in Admiral Picard’s outer office. Kieran checked the wall chronometer. "We’re just going to make it on time," she noted as they sprinted for the inner doors. Kathryn and Seven transported right behind them, and the four women set out at a dead run.

They arrived, breathless and panting, bursting through the Admiral’s door in a rush of activity. Deanna Troi was startled to see Kieran in dress whites, but even more surprised that she was with Naomi Wildman, who was obviously dressed for a formal occasion. Picard eyed the Captain critically.

"Captain Thompson, didn’t you have time to change your clothes?" he asked, miffed.

"No, Sir," she replied. "I just came from my wedding," she grinned down at her wife, who gazed up at her with a face filled with admiration. "And it’s Captain Wildman, Sir." She kissed Naomi’s hair. "I remembered you complained once that nobody was ever going to take your name," she explained to her wife. "So I changed mine in Starfleet’s records."

Naomi swallowed with difficulty, tears springing to her eyes. "You did?"

"I think it has a nice ring, don’t you?" she smiled broadly, her voice brimming with love.

Picard couldn’t stay irritated in the face of such happiness. "Kieran Wildman. Yes, I think it suits you," he agreed. "Congratulations," he added, leaning over to kiss Kieran’s cheek, then Naomi’s. "Now ladies, if we can get underway. Kieran, you and Naomi will be traveling with Counselor Troi. Captain Janeway, Seven of Nine and I will be traveling together. Commander Icheb will be leaving from a different location, along with Commander O’Connor. Our security escort should be arriving any moment."

Deanna sidled up to Kieran, grinning wickedly at her. "You never said a word," she accused, nodding in Naomi’s direction.

"It happened pretty fast," Kieran admitted. "I just found out she’s in love with me a few hours ago."

"Nothing like being expedient," Deanna mused. "You seem very happy."

"I am," Kieran replied without hesitation. "She’s wonderful, and I’m very lucky."

"She’s a beautiful woman, Kieran. Clearly she’s devoted to you. I think you’ve made a good match. But how do you feel about having Kathryn Janeway for a mother-in-law?" Troi teased.

Kieran grinned. "I imagine she’ll make my life a living hell. Thank God, they’re giving me my own ship," she quipped.

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

The U.S.S. Jemison beamed the weary travelers aboard and assigned security to escort them to their quarters. Kieran was looking ragged around the edges, but swore the only thing she needed was to change her clothes. Naomi kept an eye on her, and noted that Kieran really did seem to perk up after she got out of her dress uniform. They had been dismissed and told to get some sleep, as there would be a briefing in four hours. Kieran recycled her whites, carefully stored her ‘fruit salad’ in it’s protective plexicast case, and changed into her tattered Academy muscle shirt and a pair of silk boxers. Naomi needed some help recycling her party gown, as it was unwieldy feeding it into the replicator/recycler. She was wearing only an old t-shirt of Kieran’s with nothing beneath it, and the threadbare garment gave Kieran an outstanding view of her wife’s better features.

Naomi realized Kieran was staring at her, and glanced up, blushing. "You should be thinking about getting some sleep," Naomi scolded her. "You look exhausted."

"You look like the best idea I’ve had in a long, long time," Kieran gathered her into a kiss, brushing her lips lightly over Naomi’s. "Thank you."

"For what?" Naomi was mildly surprised.

"For loving me. For wanting to be with me. For all the things we said in our vows. For helping me find myself again," Kieran cradled Naomi’s head against her chest, feeling slight arms twining around her waist. Kieran found her eyes stinging with tears and her body swelling with the emotion of what they’d agreed to do. "I love you so," she whispered.

Naomi took Kieran’s hand and untangled their bodies. "Come on. You’re worn out from all this. You need to be sharp in that briefing. Let’s get some rest," she said persuasively, leading Kieran to bed. She eased the covers down and tugged Kieran’s hand, urging her between the sheets.

"Okay," Kieran gave in, sliding across the mattress. "But only if you let me hold you."

Naomi slid in beside her, drawing the covers over them. "I’d never be able to sleep if you didn’t," she contended.

Long after Kieran was breathing rhythmically against Naomi’s shoulder, arm wrapped around her waist, body countered against the slender Ktarian’s back side, Naomi lay awake. She looked at her wedding ring in the low lighting of their guest quarters, studied Kieran’s identical band, and felt overwhelmed by it all. I’ve wanted to be with her all my life, and finally, I am. I can’t believe it. I was so afraid she didn’t feel this way, but we’re married. She took my name. She’s in love with me. She promised. Oh my God! I’m a Captain’s wife—just like Seven. I’ve never thought of her as a Captain, not really. She’s just been the woman of my dreams, some fantasy I’ve carried around. Naomi draped her arm over Kieran’s, squeezing it against her torso.

"Mmmm," Kieran murmured, partially waking up. "You feel so good, Na," she whispered, breathing softly against Naomi’s ear. "Am I holding on too tight?" she asked groggily.

"No," Naomi squeezed her arm again. "It’s perfect. Everything’s perfect."

"Sweet dreams, my love," she managed before she dropped off again.

Naomi returned to her scrutiny of Kieran’s hand, which now rested between her breasts, pressed against her sternum. I’ve looked at her hands a million times, and wondered what it would be like to hold them the way a lover does. I’ve touched her countless times, but always in a reserved way, never the way I wished I could. I can touch her anytime I need to, now. I don’t have to worry that my affection is improper or unwanted. I’ve wanted to lie with her, feel her against me, just be held by her, and now here she is, holding me. Naomi kissed Kieran’s hand gently, breathing in the scent of her fingers. My wife. She’s my wife, and I am hers. I never have to be alone again. I’ve never lived with anyone but my parents, but I live with Kieran now. I kissed her for the first time last night. I bet everyone on Voyager was shocked. The daughter of the Ice Queen and the Captain, an Ice Princess in her own right, finally let herself be liberated from the ice age. Little did they know I’ve loved Kieran for years. God, I hope Rachel doesn’t take the news too hard.

Naomi replayed the events of the preceding 24 hours in her mind, savoring the memory of dancing with Kieran, reliving the moment their lips touched for the first time. It made her heart race and her body flush with warmth, thinking of how it felt. She grew more restless as the minutes ticked away, wishing she could shut her brain off and just sleep. She returned her focus to her wedding ring. It truly was an extravagance, and Kieran hadn’t seemed one bit concerned. Where should we go on our honeymoon, when this is all over with? She wondered. I’ve always wanted to see the ruins in Egypt. Or the glaciers in Alaska. Maybe a fancy resort in Florida, where we can swim and make love for days on end—no, wait, too much like her honeymoon with B'Elanna. It has to be different, unique. Unforgettable.

Finally, after going through a laundry list of places to visit, Naomi drifted off to sleep. Kieran felt her body relax and unconsciously slipped deeper into her own respite, completely at peace.

Kieran nearly had a heart attack when the red alert klaxon sounded. She scrambled out of bed, adrenaline pumping through every sinew, snatched her phaser, and gasping for air, positioned herself in front of Naomi in a defensive posture. Her brain reprocessed the attack on the Sagan, and her body was shaking with nervous energy.

"KT, it’s okay," Naomi tried to soothe her. "We’re under attack, but we’re winning," she pointed out the view port of their quarters, where an ominous looking Klingon Bird of Prey hung in the surrounding space, firing at them.

"What are the Klingons doing in the middle of this?" she demanded of no one. "I’m going to the bridge," she announced, hastily pulling on her uniform and boots. By the time she had sprinted the distance to the turbolift, the weapons exchange had stopped. She burst onto the bridge, much to the amusement of Captain Lessing.

"What’sa matter, KT? Can’t sleep?" the grinning Captain asked playfully.

"Report," she barked at him, not amused.

He could have been offended at being given an order by a rank equal, but Noah was above such pettiness. "The terrorists apparently have sympathizers on the Klingon homeworld," he replied. "We took care of them."

Kieran helped herself to the empty First Officer’s chair, slumping down in sudden overwhelming exhaustion.

"KT," Noah touched her sleeve, "is that your first red alert since the Sagan?"

Kieran nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Woke me up out of a dead sleep," she muttered. "Christ, that scared me."

He squeezed her muscular forearm sympathetically. "You’re entitled, my friend. I imagine it’s very difficult to get back in the saddle, so to speak."

Kieran nodded miserably. "What if I can’t do it, Noah? What if I freeze up? I heard that damned alarm and my heart nearly exploded out of my chest. It was sheer terror."

"You’ll be fine, KT. I’ve seen you in action. I learned a hell of a lot from you. And if I know you, your First Officer will step in if it gets critical, because you would have as the First, if Captain Janeway had faltered. You never surround yourself with tentative people."

Kieran grinned, sweat trickling down her cheek. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, bud," she used his old nickname fondly. "I imagine that little incident will keep me in Deanna’s office for several hours," she chuckled.

"It’s a long road, bud," he returned. "Give yourself time. The Sagan was one of worst disasters in the history of Starfleet. No one expects you to act like it never happened," he counseled gently.

"You kicked their asses good?" she demanded.

"Yes Ma’am," he replied kindly. "I know I’ve got precious cargo on board," he grinned warmly. "Congratulations to you and Naomi. I wondered how long it would be before you two ended up married," he laughed.

"You expected it?" Kieran was stunned.

He howled with laughter. "Kieran, this is me you’re talking to. There has always been something between you two, since she was a teenager. I know, I know, you never acted on it, not even when Naomi was an adult. You would never have done that to B'Elanna. But the attraction was obvious to anyone with eyes."

Kieran was aghast with disbelief. "It wasn’t obvious to me, I swear. I never thought of her that way until very recently."

Noah patted her leg. "I don’t mean you’ve been running around lusting after her. You guys just always had a connection that was special. It didn’t take a genius to know that once B'Elanna was gone, things would blossom with you and Na. It’s the only reason I never asked you out, myself. I knew you’d only have eyes for her."

Now Kieran was beyond stunned. "You? Me? You wanted to ask me out?" she crossed her arms. "Knowing I’ve never been with a guy in my whole life?"

Noah chuckled softly. "I have a big ego, and a lot of guts. I thought, just maybe, you might make an exception in my case, ‘cause I’m such a nice guy."

Kieran laughed, touching his cheek. "Yes, you are. And you know what? I would have said yes. But you missed your chance, Captain. I’m married."

Noah rolled his eyes. "You always are when I’m not," he griped playfully. "Keep me in mind if you ever end up single again."

"Bite your tongue," she slapped his thigh. "I’m not going through that mess again. If Naomi goes, I’m going with her."

"Good plan," he agreed. "Now get off my bridge. I don’t need any help today. But if you get a chance to shoot some hoop, hail me. Okay?"

Kieran grinned fondly. "Deal. Thanks, Captain."

Naomi was waiting up for Kieran, and when the frazzled Captain returned, she met her partner at the door with some hot tea and a reassuring hug.

"Oh, Na," she wailed, dismayed. "You didn’t have to wait up for me. But I appreciate the tea," she accepted the cup.

"Everything okay?" Naomi sat with Kieran on the couch.

"Everything except that I almost wet myself when I heard the red alert," she admitted. "Would you still love me if I resigned from Starfleet?"

Naomi took the cup from her spouse’s trembling hands, set it carefully on the end table, and took Kieran’s hands in her own. "I’ll love you no matter what you do," she calmly stated. "But it won’t come to that." She reached down and helped Kieran remove her boots, tossing them aside.

"I’m not so certain," Kieran confided. "That scared the bejesus out of me. I may find I’m not up to the strain any longer."

Naomi smiled patiently at her beloved. "You thought you weren’t up to the task when you were made First Officer. K-Mom said then your only fault was your lack of self-confidence. And you learned to be confident, because she believed in you. You’ll learn to be confident again, because your crew will believe in you. Most notably, your Chief Engineer," she said pointedly, kissing her briefly.

Kieran lay her hand against Naomi’s cheek, cupping it tenderly in her large palm. "You are so good for me," she murmured in awe. "How did I ever get along without you?"

"You’ve never been without me," Naomi corrected her. "And you never will be," she added, leaning into Kieran’s caress, turning her face to kiss the soft inner flesh of her wrist. "I love you, Kieran. I always have. I look at you now, and I can’t believe this is real, but I’m grateful for it. It’s such a gift to finally be able to tell you how much I love you—to have the rest of our lives to show you," she moved subtly into Kieran’s embrace, kissing her with lingering gentleness.

Gentleness deepened to increasing passion as they explored each other’s kiss with growing need. Kieran felt Naomi’s body yielding to her, felt full lips part beneath her own, touched them with the tip of her tongue. Naomi sighed audibly, opened herself to Kieran’s tentative probing, and tangled her fingers in Kieran’s hair, tugging at the fine strands as they kissed. They broke away, each breathless and yearning for more. Kieran scooped Naomi into her lap, positioning the slight Ktarian over her thighs, and with considerable effort, picked her up and carried her to their bed. She lay her carefully down, eased over her, and stretched against her, kissing her again.

Naomi’s fingers worked at Kieran’s collar, removing her pips one by one as they kissed. She deposited them on the night table, then pulled at the clasp of Kieran’s tunic, peeling it down over her shoulders. Kieran raised up to let her remove it, leaving only the thin grey tank shirt with the mock turtleneck collar. "God, I love your arms," Naomi murmured into their fresh wave of kisses, feeling Kieran’s bulging muscles.

"God, I love your kisses," Kieran whispered back to her, capturing her lips again. Long moments of tasting each other’s lips led to more insistent exploration with tongues, and Kieran felt her temperature escalating. She dropped her mouth to Naomi’s ear, kissing the lobe and breathing softly against her throat. Her lips skated over the exposed flesh at the hollow of her neck and shoulder, and Naomi gasped as Kieran’s tongue left a warm, wet trail where her lips traveled. She arched beneath the larger woman, lifting her neck up to Kieran’s mouth and pressing Kieran’s face tighter with her hand still tangled in Kieran’s hair.

Naomi’s hands slipped beneath the gray tank shirt, caressing Kieran’s back in careful, swirling motions beneath the silvery fabric. The sensation made Kieran shiver, and she groaned faintly in Naomi’s ear. She pressed her thigh between Naomi’s, lifting the tattered old t-shirt that hung below Naomi’s buttocks, and found her wife had absolutely nothing on beneath the threadbare jersey cloth. Kieran’s hands ghosted over Naomi’s bare hips, her leg parting Naomi’s thighs.

"KT," Naomi stopped her, "wait."

Thinking Naomi was afraid, Kieran stopped immediately. "I’m sorry, Na," she offered quickly. "If you’re not ready for this—"

"I want you," Naomi sighed in Kieran’s ear, sending a bolt of electricity through her. "But your uniform pants are going to get ruined," she smiled softly up at her beloved.

Understanding registered in Kieran’s eyes, and she chuckled. "I see. Black and—"

"Wet," Naomi supplied, grinning. "Take them off."

Kieran obliged her by standing up, shucking the trousers, and removing the tank top. She stood there, bare-chested, clad only in her silk boxers. "Better?" she beamed at her wife, pulling her to a sitting position.

"Much," Naomi agreed, letting Kieran remove her t-shirt.

Kieran knelt between her legs, mesmerized by the sight of her. "You’re so beautiful," she whispered reverently. "So incredibly beautiful," she murmured, kissing Naomi again. They fell together then, surrounded by cool satin sheets and each other’s warm, pliant flesh, pressing the length of their frames against one another in sheer indulgent ecstasy.

Kieran felt the heat rising from Naomi’s body, smelled the delicate scent of her arousal, and struggled for control. She brushed her lips over Naomi’s neck, feeling the skin pebble in response, nipping lightly at the silk of her throat. Kieran once again eased Naomi’s legs apart and pressed her thigh between them. A sudden intake of breath accompanied her sharp realization that Naomi was, indeed, wet. She increased the pressure, feeling Naomi gasp at the intimate intrusion.

Kieran rolled to one side, taking Naomi with her, drawing Naomi’s leg over her hip. Kieran stroked her long fingers down Naomi’s back, trailing them faintly over her buttocks and hip, letting Naomi’s response set the pace. Naomi touched Kieran’s face, giving herself over to her partner with complete trust and unabashed desire. "Kieran," she whispered softly, "I love you."

"I love you, too," Kieran assured her in a throaty voice that had a decided catch in it. "Are you okay with this?" she asked quietly, running her hands over Naomi’s back in soothing patterns.

"More than okay," Naomi replied. "Everything you do just feels—so—intense," she struggled to articulate the experience.

"If you want me to stop, you just tell me. Promise?" Kieran closed her eyes against the rush of need that swept through her.

"I don’t want you to stop," Naomi asserted, hiding her face in Kieran’s shoulder. "Please, KT, don’t stop."

Kieran swallowed the impulse to ravish her then and there, forcing her own desire into submission. "I won’t, love," she promised, kissing her deeply and moving her onto her back again. She raised up on her knees, slipped the other leg between Naomi’s legs, and let her hips push the smaller woman back down on the bed. She rocked gently against Naomi’s swell of flesh, the moisture bathing her abdomen and making their motion fluid. The friction made them both groan uncontrollably, and Kieran bit her lip to gain an edge over her raging urgency.

Don’t fuck this up, KT, she scolded herself. Slow down. Be gentle. Be tender. Be what she needs for once.

Kieran drew a shuddering breath, her body threatening to ignore her stern edict to slow down. She redirected her focus, thinking only of Naomi, touching her lips once more. They kissed endlessly, Kieran’s mouth insistent upon Naomi’s, her tongue exploring and questioning. She kissed Naomi’s cheek, her jaw, her neck. She sucked at the delicate flesh of her throat, then soothed over the red mark that rose where her lips had been. Naomi groaned quietly at the insult, throwing her head back and baring her throat for more. Kieran happily obliged, nipping at the curve of her collarbone, lips puckering over her chest. Kieran’s mouth closed softly around a perfect pink nipple, and Naomi’s hips surged upward at the pleasurable sensation, her breathing instantly ragged. She unconsciously dragged her fingernails up Kieran’s back as she arched into the warmth and wetness of Kieran’s mouth, and Kieran felt a sharp burning in her groin.

A subtle flutter of her tongue over the hardening tip made Naomi cry out needfully, and Kieran lost herself momentarily, cradling breasts in her hands and sucking one nipple, then the other, not entirely gently. Naomi squirmed beneath her, wrapped her legs around Kieran’s back, and whimpered as the frontal assault continued. "Kieran!" she gasped as she felt the fluttering again, head thrown side to side at the overwhelming sensation. "God, Kieran," she moaned when the caress abated.

Kieran smiled against her breast, suckling tenderly, listening to the effect of her ministrations. Once again she eased them onto their sides, slithered down the length of Naomi’s body until her face was at her breasts, and reached gently between her legs. The heat rising off of her lips nearly made Kieran faint as she slid her fingertips through liquid warmth, massaging softly. Naomi was moaning in time with the motion, and Kieran parted her labia carefully with one finger, finding her swollen node easily. As her fingertip slipped through the ribbon of fluid, Naomi clutched at her in desperation, overcome by the combined sensation of Kieran’s mouth on her nipple and Kieran’s finger gliding over her clit. She climaxed in rolling waves of intensity, crying out Kieran’s name, shuddering and shaking and clinging to her with what little strength she had left.

"I’ve got you, Na," Kieran reassured her as the crashing waves broke in sharp, brittle jolts, Kieran struggling to keep a hold on her wife. "It’s okay, love," she soothed her, holding her down on the mattress.

Naomi collapsed against her, too spent to move or speak. Kieran held her possessively, rubbing her shoulders and back as Naomi sprawled over her in utter exhaustion. Kieran chuckled against Naomi’s shoulder as the Ktarian began to snore lightly, her ability to process the experience clearly exceeded.

The computer alarm went off a few minutes later, and Kieran silenced it. She had been holding Naomi, letting her sleep, unable to drift off herself for the emotions surging in her. She loathed leaving their bed, where the memory of loving Naomi hung as thickly in the air as the scent of their lovemaking. She wished she could pull the covers over their heads and disappear. She kissed the slope of her wife’s throat with gentle, nuzzling lips, extricated herself from Naomi’s clutching embrace, and slipped out of bed.

When she left for the briefing, Naomi was still sleeping soundly. Kieran punched a few commands into the workstation and quietly made her way to work.

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

Naomi Wildman awoke to find their bed empty and cold where Kieran had been. "Computer, locate Kieran Thompson."

The computer came back in its usual business-like manner. "There is no such person on the manifest."

Naomi felt a surge of panic, then relaxed as understanding washed over her. She smiled fondly, thinking of her wife. "Computer, locate Kieran Wildman."

"Captain Wildman is in the main briefing room."

Naomi wrapped the satin bedclothes around her nakedness, wishing it could be Kieran instead. She took my name. Her sleep deprived eyes opened grudgingly, and she saw that the small table in their quarters was laid out lavishly with food and flowers. She fumbled for her old t-shirt, thought better of it, and instead put on Kieran’s old sweatshirt that she’d intended to wear in their leisure time. It smelled faintly of Kieran, despite having been cleaned recently. Naomi smiled at her indulgence, remembering how, as a child, she would wear Kieran’s hat or clothes, and how she would sniff them to get a faint olfactory reminder of her friend. More than my friend, now, she reminded herself. My lover. My spouse. My partner.

She tiptoed over to the table, replete with a breakfast fit for royalty, a vase of fresh flowers, a note, and a small gift. Her stomach growled in response to the aroma of the food, hot and fresh beneath stasis lids. She grinned gleefully, wondering what Kieran had made her. Beneath the first lid, she found a bowl of corn chowder. Beneath the second, a ham and cheese omelet made with replicated protein. The third contained fresh fruit—an assortment of strawberries, mango, honeydew melon, blackberries and kiwi. The fourth held buttered english muffins and whole grain toast. The final container was Naomi’s favorite: peach pancakes. God, she really does know me. And knows the way to my heart, she chuckled, fixing a plate for herself. She was half way through the fruit and pancakes when she noticed the note. It read:

My Darling Wife, Naomi:

I knew you would wake up hungry. Making love tends to make a person

ravenous, so don’t worry if you eat everything I left you. I’m sorry you

had to wake up alone, and I hope you never will again in our married

life. Know that wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, I’m always thinking

of you, I’m always loving you, and I’m trying to get back to you as soon

as I can. I stood and watched you sleeping before I left today. You are even more beautiful than I remembered from before we fell asleep.

Being apart from you will cause me great longing. I love you, Na.

Your Devoted Wife,

Captain Kieran Wildman

Naomi shook her head at her partner’s unabashed romanticism. I knew I loved her for a reason, she thought. She finished her breakfast slowly, savoring her first memories of making love, and daydreaming about Kieran. She toyed with the wrapped package beside her plate, wondering what Kieran might give her. Curiosity won out, and she opened the small box. Inside she found a bracelet of gold and silver, with what appeared to be rank insignia inlaid in the metal.

Kieran had left a note to explain.

"The first pip is my Ensign’s pip, which was my rank when we first met. The white pip is from your Bridge Assistant insignia. The third pip is my Lieutenant’s pip from when I was Voyager’s Counselor. The fourth is your first Ensign’s pip. The gold pip is from my First Officer’s insignia. The sixth is your first Lieutenant’s pip. The next is my first Captain’s pip. When you are promoted to Commander, we’ll add that pip to the bracelet.

If you’d like, we can have your mother’s pips inlaid in the band, as well as Kathryn’s and Seven’s. If you want to remember B'Elanna in that way, I still have her Maquis rank insignia from Voyager, and her insignia from the Sagan. Geejay is holding her first insignia from the Academy, at my request, so we can add that. Your Grandmother is going to give you the diamond from her wedding ring to inlay, as well. Then the bracelet will hold all the significant women in your life.

I had this idea a long time ago, before I had any idea we would be married. I was going to give it to you for your 32nd birthday, but I thought it would make a nice wedding present, so I didn’t wait for your birthday. I’m sure you’ll think of something else you want, by then.

All my love, KT"

Naomi fingered the smooth silver and gold bands that bordered the neat row of inlaid silver, gold, white and black pips. It was such a novel idea, she marveled at her wife’s creativity. She knew exactly where Samantha Wildman’s rank insignia was, and as soon as they got back to Earth, she’d give it to Kieran to have the jeweler add it to the mix. Thinking of her biological mother, she couldn’t help tearing up. Oh Mom, she thought, I’m so happy. I wish you could know how I’m doing, wish you could see how this all turned out. You’d be so pleased for me.

Naomi turned the bracelet in her hands, thinking about the long journey represented in that metal testimony, remembering the loneliness of years spent loving Kieran when she was married to B'Elanna, the struggle to keep going when it seemed she would never find anyone to share her life with. It had been hard to bear, knowing Kathryn and Seven pitied her. Even Geejay had scorned her infatuation with Kieran Thompson, telling her it was futile and selfish and ridiculous to love a married woman. Naomi had had to agree with her, but she hadn’t really had much choice in the matter. Her heart had done what it wanted, and she blindly followed it, though it tortured her to do so.

And she had honestly tried to let go of the obsession. She had dated countless people, but in the end, she had only fallen in love once in her life, and no other person could supplant that love. She supposed she was pathetic, but it didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that there would never again be such limitless despair as she had felt in the past. The relief of knowing that forced a flood of tears from her eyes, and when Kieran returned unexpectedly, she found her bowed over the dining room table, crying and holding the gift.

"Na?" Kieran asked softly, thinking she had done something wrong. "Honey, what is it?" she came to her, kneeling on the floor, resting her hands on Naomi’s legs.

"This is so wonderful," Naomi replied through her tears. "You are so amazing."

Kieran rose up on her knees and wrapped her arms around her wife, holding her. "I’m glad you like it. But I didn’t mean to make you cry, sweetheart."

"You’re just so kind," she whispered. "And I was feeling sorry for myself for being without you for so many years. Do you have any idea how much I needed you?"

Kieran held her head against her chest, stroking the long strawberry blonde locks. "I think I do. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. If I could have been two people, I would have been. But you hid it well, Naomi. In fact, until Geejay practically hit me over the head at the party the other night, I still didn’t know how you felt about me. Chakotay tried to tell me, when you and I were in Arizona. I thought he was imagining things. I just couldn’t see it."

Naomi sniffled. "I think, you didn’t want to see it. And I’m glad you didn’t. I always wondered if B'Elanna would confront me. Thank God she never did. I’d have been hard pressed to lie to her."

"B'Elanna knew me well enough to know I would never betray our vows. If she could tell how you felt, although she would have been sorry for you, she would have never felt the need to confront you, Na."

"Because I was no threat," Naomi hugged Kieran tighter.

"Because no one could be a threat. It wasn’t any slight against you," Kieran stated matter-of-factly. "But if I were the sort of woman who could be unfaithful, if I could break my word in such a hurtful way, you wouldn’t have loved me. And now you know that you can rest as easily in my love and fidelity as B'Elanna always did. It’s absolute, Naomi. Believe it."

Naomi kissed her gently, letting her wipe away the tears on her cheeks with a careful thumb. "I do believe it, honey. With all my heart."

Kieran’s heart skipped a beat, and she grinned ear to ear.

"What?" Naomi was puzzled.

"That’s the first time you’ve ever called me that," she gave her spouse a lopsided smile.

Naomi giggled. "Honey," she repeated.

Kieran pulled her up out of the chair, arms firmly around her. "Say it again," she laughed happily.

"Honey," Naomi said, blushing and laughing. She hugged Kieran fiercely, kissed her cheek, and softly whispered "honey."

Kieran shivered. "Now you’re just trying to get me worked up," she accused, tickling Naomi’s ribs amid shrieks and giggles.

"Do you have time?" Naomi asked seriously. "Are you going back into briefings?"

"Thankfully, no. I’m actually all yours for the rest of the day and night," she waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I have a meeting first thing in the morning, though, so we have to get some sleep tonight," she warned, smiling seductively.

Naomi feigned innocence. "Whatever shall we do with our time?"

Kieran gave her a feral smile. "I’ve got a few ideas," she growled.

Naomi brushed her lips over Kieran’s ear, and whimpered "honey", as if she were in the throes of an orgasm. The sound of it made Kieran clutch at Naomi’s body with crushing strength. "You like that?" Naomi whispered.

Kieran groaned softly as she felt lips nipping her throat. "I like the way you sound when I love you," she agreed, sighing and thinking her knees might buckle.

Naomi tugged at the clasp of her uniform tunic, opening the jacket and running her hands over Kieran’s chest. "Let’s find out how you sound when I make love to you," she murmured, untucking Kieran’s tank shirt.

Kieran drew a jagged breath, instantly aroused by the provocative words, but increasingly by the restless motion of Naomi’s hands over her torso as she stripped away layers of clothing, leaving them in a trail from the living room to the bedroom. Kieran pulled off the sweatshirt Naomi was wearing. "Hey, where’d you get this?" she demanded.

Naomi grinned sheepishly. "Your travel case."

Kieran held her at arms’ length. "Is that how this marriage is going to work? I pack my clothes and you steal them?" she laughed.

"Definitely," Naomi replied, pushing Kieran down on the bed. "So you’d better pack twice as much as you normally need," she advised. "Unless you want to wear my clothes," she offered a diplomatic solution, kissing her lover heatedly.

"Your clothes don’t fit me," Kieran complained between kisses. "Though I’d like to be in your pants," she smarted.

"That can be arranged," Naomi shot back, grabbing Kieran’s hand and shoving it beneath her own panties.

"Oh God, Na," Kieran moaned as she felt wetness instantly bathing her hand. "What have you been thinking about?" she rasped.

"You touching me," she admitted, opening her legs. "And the way you sound when you love me."

Kieran made a strangled noise in the back of her throat as her fingers slid through velvet moisture and entered Naomi slowly. "Naomi," she grunted as she felt smooth walls intimately grasping her digits.

Naomi gasped at the penetration, hips rising to meet Kieran’s fingers. She made an incoherent sound of primal desire, sank her fingernails into Kieran’s bare buttocks, and cried out sharply as Kieran captured her nipple between careful teeth. Her climax was sudden and unexpected, startling them both. Naomi laughed softly as Kieran withdrew her hand and tugged the constraining panties off her shapely legs.

"I guess I was thinking about you," she grinned at her wife. "This time," she kissed Kieran’s breasts, "I won’t fall asleep on you."

Kieran gazed lovingly up at her as Naomi moved over her, suspended on wiry arms. "I didn’t mind, honey. I was perfectly content to hold you and let you sleep."

Naomi fixed her with a pointed stare. "So you’d rather I didn’t make love to you?"

Kieran grinned, eyes filled with mischief. "I didn’t say that," she replied softly.

Naomi lay down on her, balancing her weight on either side of Kieran’s shoulders on her forearms. "Your skin is so perfect. I can’t believe it. You were burned so badly," she touched Kieran’s unmarred chest with her lips.

Kieran lay back, head resting in her hands, letting Naomi explore her body. "Yeah, the doctors did a great job. There’s just a slight discoloration left here," she pointed to a darker patch of skin on her shoulder. "If I get a tan, it should hide it."

Naomi kissed a circle around the area. "Like I’d stay off your body long enough for the sun to do it’s job if you lay around naked," she argued, sucking softly at the articulation of Kieran’s collarbone and shoulder. "Anyway, that awful scar is gone," she traced her finger where the raised keloid flesh used to be.

Kieran’s eyes hardened and she snatched Naomi’s hand. "That ‘awful scar’ was a ritual Klingon mating scar. B'Elanna marked me to claim me."

Naomi’s face fell. "Oh God, Kieran, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I thought it was from when you got shot trying to save me from those Maltanian kidnappers," she rushed to explain, seeing the cold veil that had come over her partner’s usually warm brown eyes. "All those years, I felt guilty about that scar, because I thought it was my fault," her voice was low and urgent. "I didn’t know it was something you treasured. I swear."

Kieran instantly took the emotional wall back down. "I’m sorry, I shouldn’t get so defensive. It’s just that I spent a lot of years explaining my marriage to people who had no clue about being married to a Klingon. It got to be irritating. When B'Elanna marked me, the Doctor tried to remove it, and your mother had to intervene, so of course, I had to explain to her. That was embarrassing as hell. If I had a bar of latinum for every person who has asked in horror if Klingons aren’t ‘too aggressive’ in bed, I’d be the object of desire for every Ferengi in the Alpha Quadrant."

Naomi kissed Kieran’s chest, laying her head down on it. "I’m sorry, honey. I imagine that got to be tiresome. I hope I never asked any stupid questions." She listened to the mechanical clicking of Kieran’s artificial heart, thinking how far afield their conversation had gone from where she wanted it to be.

"You never did. Thanks," Kieran replied. "You thought that scar was your fault? Really?"

Naomi nodded. "I wanted to run and hide every time I saw it. I thought you must despise me for it."

Kieran stroked her hair tenderly. "You should have told me. I’d have told you what it really was, my love. I had no idea it pained you," she kissed the crown of Naomi’s head. "And you should know I never could have despised you for anything. I always loved you, Na. Always. I just can’t believe it turns out that I can love you in this way, too."

Naomi raised up and peered into Kieran’s face. "And you do love me? I mean, you’re in love with me?"

"Totally," Kieran confirmed, kissing her lingeringly. "You are my last love."

Naomi smiled. "You are my only love." She touched Kieran’s face with her fingertips, gazing into deep brown eyes, finding no hesitation or doubt there. "Will you let me make love to you?" she asked in the faintest whisper.

Kieran closed her eyes as the words rushed through her, the simple request igniting every nerve ending in her body. "Yes," she replied in a throaty voice.

Naomi kissed her slowly, conscious of every nuance and detail, acutely tuned to Kieran’s response. She listened as Kieran’s respiration quickened, noted the flush of color that rose in her cheeks and chest as she caressed her nipples with the faint brush of thumb over distended flesh, felt the surrender of control as Kieran’s fingers dug into the sheets when full lips surrounded each swollen nipple in turn.

Kieran’s body seemed to absorb Naomi’s as they lay together, arms and legs and lips and tongues entwined without discernible boundaries. Naomi’s pursuit spoke of sweetness and passion, of love and curiosity, of need and longing. Kieran was helpless against the beguiling innocence of Naomi’s delivery, the inexperience showing in subtle ways, though never in tentativeness. It left Kieran breathless in the face of such willingness to please and learn, and she found herself completely at Naomi’s mercy as she peaked repeatedly beneath her artistic hands and intuitive tongue.

She lay in Naomi’s embrace afterward, silent tears streaming down her cheeks, trying to regain her composure, and failing entirely. Finally, Naomi moved over her again, gazing sadly down at her. "Did I hurt you?"

Kieran started, then rolled them over so she was on top. "No, love. You moved me to tears, that’s all."

Naomi smiled uncertainly. "And that’s a good thing?"

Kieran kissed her gently in reply. "That’s beyond compare."

Naomi sighed in relief. "Thank God. I was getting worried that I had disappointed you or worse."

"Never. You seemed as if you’d done this before. You’re a quick study," she grinned.

"Well," Naomi said shyly, "I have done it before in my mind. But the reality is a lot better than the imagination. When I imagined it, I didn’t know how much you would react, and how that would arouse me in return. It never occurred to me that hearing your excitement would spark my own," she said objectively, contemplating the experience. After a long silence, she said "Can I ask you something?"

Kieran laughed. "I’m your wife. You can ask me anything. No secrets," she chuckled at her retiring spouse.

"When I made love to you, you climaxed more than once, right?" she blushed as she uttered the word ‘climaxed’.

Kieran nodded. "Yes, several times. And that’s a rare thing for me."

"Oh," she said, disappointed. "I guess that answers my next question then."

"No, ask me," Kieran insisted.

"Well, I was going to ask if anyone can learn to do that," she grinned sheepishly.

Kieran hugged her. "God, you’re priceless," she kissed Naomi’s cheeks, smiling. "I think it can be learned, but I also think it takes extraordinary circumstances for it to happen that way. But who knows? I’m certainly willing to experiment," she waggled her eyebrows.

"Really?" Naomi was surprised.

"Of course," Kieran rolled off of her, sitting up beside her. "Naomi, I’m your lover. It’s my privilege to be your sexual partner, and I’ll do whatever I can to understand your desires and fulfill your needs. That’s part of being married. You have to trust that whatever you want from me, you only have to tell me. Everything’s negotiable. I mean, if you wanted me to do something that I found truly distasteful, I would be obligated to tell you so, but otherwise, I’m willing to try anything you think you might like. Sex is as much about play and fun and companionship as it is about passion and being in love. That’s the beauty of a truly committed relationship. You can trust me to care about what you want, and to try my best to give it to you."

Naomi looked at Kieran as if she might cry. She entwined her fingers with Kieran’s, mesmerized by the sight of their fingers interspersed. "No one has ever offered me so much," she drew a tremulous breath. "I’ve never felt so complete," she pinned down her feeling as a solitary tear slipped down her cheek.

Kieran leaned down to kiss it away. "I love you, Naomi. The synergy we have as a committed partnership is what gives us both that sense of completeness. There’s nothing like it anywhere else in the universe."

Naomi nodded. "I’ve seen it with Kathryn and Seven. And I saw it with you and B'Elanna, too. I just didn’t understand it until now. Thank you," she sat up to kiss Kieran thoroughly.

"Hey, you know how you were all in awe about what a great job the meds did with my burn injuries?" Naomi nodded. "Well, you wanna see something that will make your Engineer’s heart do a back-flip?"

"Absolutely," Naomi grinned.

Kieran reached up above her right eyebrow, felt around carefully, and slipped her fingernail beneath an imperceptible panel. With a soft "snick" the door opened to reveal the interface to her ocular implant.

"Amazing," Naomi breathed. "My God, Kieran, this sort of engineering used to take whole rooms the size of starships. Talk about micromechanics," she enthused, watching the fiberoptic relays send signals to Kieran’s artificial eye. "I’d kill to see a schematic for this," she reached out and touched the panel door, closing it again. "I know this is mechanical, and not organic, and yet it feels like natural human flesh and blood, and I can’t tell where the panel is now. That’s superb technology," she was fascinated by it.

Kieran smiled. "I knew you’d think that was nifty. I’ll get you the schematic. It’s too complicated for me to make heads or tails out of it, but you’ll probably think it’s nothing." She chuckled lightly, saying, "I have more cybernetic circuitry in me than Seven, I bet, between my ocular, my heart, and my right arm." Then as an afterthought, "Does that bother you? I mean, I’m only partially human, not entirely organic."

Naomi grinned facetiously. "As long as your entirely orgasmic, I’m happy with whatever you’re made of."

Kieran grabbed her and shoved her down on the bed again, tickling her. "Oh, that was just awful. I can see you’re going to be a real smart ass."

Naomi giggled beneath her wife, squirming to free herself. "I’m K-Mom’s daughter. What else could I be?"

______________

Harry Kim threw his hands up over his eyes, trying to block out the light assaulting them. "Seriah? Honey, shut the light off, I’m sleeping," he grumbled, trying to shield his face.

The Doctor checked Harry’s vitals, a look of disapproval tugging at the corners of his holographic lips. "Sorry, dear," he replied tartly. "It’s time to get up."

Harry peeked through his fingers, disoriented. "No," he whispered, aghast. "No!" he shouted.

"No! No! I can’t be back here! I can’t!" he shrieked, leaping off the biobed and knocking the Doctor out of the way. Harry let out a blood-curdling scream that set Counselor Kieran Thompson-Torres’ teeth on edge as she lunged for him to restrain him. Harry punched her square in the face, sending her reeling across the sickbay and crashing into a table full of instruments which came raining down on her head.

"Security," she slapped her comm badge. "Emergency in sickbay! All available security personnel respond," she barked, rolling away as Harry tried to crush her face with the heel of his boot. Kieran saw red literally as blood ran into her eye, but she was too busy trying to get away from the maniac coming at her to worry about that.

Chakotay came through the doors, grabbing Harry around the arms. Harry was on an adrenaline high that seemed to have given him superhuman strength, and he wrestled free from Chakotay’s grasp, shoved an elbow into the larger man’s sternum, and lurched forward, hell-bent on choking the life out of Kieran. Before he could reach her, the Doctor jabbed a hypospray against his throat, and Harry crumpled to the floor like a rag doll.

Chakotay rushed over to the Counselor, who had scrambled backwards to escape Harry’s flailing legs and arms. "Kieran, are you okay?" he looked her over. "That’s a nasty cut," he gasped, out of breath from the struggle. "Doctor? Leave him," he nodded at the unconscious Lieutenant. "Take care of this first."

The Doctor grabbed a dermal regenerator and a tricorder as a massive security force poured through the doors to sickbay.

"Easy, Counselor," he held her face still. "Mr. Kim seems to have broken your nose. You have a laceration on your forehead that’s quite bad. Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Kieran grimaced. "My hand hurts," she flexed it and realized it was also cut. "I think I sliced it with that bovey," she nodded at a metal instrument that was scattered with several others on the floor.

The Doctor examined it carefully. "You cut a tendon. The good news is that it’s a clean incision, and it will be easy to repair. The facial laceration is going to take a little more effort. Are you in pain?"

"Not bad," she grimaced as he examined her face.

"You should be," he said sardonically. "Harry moved your nose a few centimeters. I’m going to have to block the nerves to set the bones."

"Great," Kieran griped. "Just give me something for the pain for now, and let’s make sure Harry isn’t going to wake up and attack us again."

The Doctor nodded, preparing a hypospray. Chakotay nodded to the first three security officers that had responded. "Help me get him up on the biobed," he ordered. They lifted Harry back up on a biobed, everyone wondering what had happened to make the young man hysterical. "Thanks," Chakotay nodded at the crewmen. "You’re dismissed. Tuvok," he waved the Vulcan over as he came through the entrance at a dead run. "You’d better stay. Harry’s recent martial arts lessons are apparently paying off. He rearranged Kieran’s face."

Tuvok’s eyebrow raised dramatically as he glanced at the Counselor’s misshapen face. "I’ll be sure to tell Claren James that her instruction has been effective," he stated sarcastically. "I will stand guard as long as you think it is necessary," he agreed, eyeing the unconscious man warily.

"What was that all about," Chakotay demanded of the Doctor.

"I’d say Mr. Kim was none too happy to be back in the real world," the Doctor speculated. "I’ll set up a security field around him to keep him from hurting anyone when he comes to again. But I don’t understand it. When Mr. Paris woke up, he was fine, so I expected Harry to be equally docile."

"I’d better inform the Captain. She’s going to be less than pleased," Chakotay scowled. "Everything under control?"

"I will remain here," Tuvok assured the hulking First Officer. "I will have a security team posted outside, as well, as a precaution."

"Good idea," Chakotay grinned faintly. "Kieran, you okay?"

Kieran nodded. "Yes, Sir. I’ll be fine. Just don’t tell B'Elanna," she grinned.

Chakotay smiled back at her. "No, I won’t. I’d like for Harry to live long enough to explain what just happened."

__________

"Explain," Captain Kathryn Janeway demanded of her EMH. "Tom came through it just fine, but Harry is a raving lunatic. And Naomi is still unconscious."

The Doctor frowned, shaking his head in confusion. "I just don’t know. Tom woke up as if he’d had a pleasant dream, and although he was sorry it had ended, he seems normal. Harry is in complete denial, and his anger is unmanageable."

Janeway turned to Counselor Thompson-Torres. "Did your research reveal anything?"

Kieran scowled. "Very little. The mental state of most people coming out of a drug-induced hallucinatory state is mild confusion and disorientation. Harry isn’t mildly anything. And once he stops being pissed off, he’s likely to become severely depressed. The database says very little about these mental states. I can only compare it to my own experiences with spatial psychosis. It seems similar in that Harry can’t totally distinguish between reality and fantasy, and when he starts to grasp that this is reality, it makes him hostile. As for Tom, I have a theory, but no proof as to why he was unscathed."

Kathryn nodded. "Let’s have it."

Kieran looked at the Doctor for his reaction as she spoke. "I think Tom has such a vivid, active fantasy life that for him, this experience wasn’t much different than playing on the holodeck. He knows how to play act, how to pretend, and had no trouble making the transition back to reality. Harry, on the other hand, is all about seriousness and duty and has never been given to flights of fancy," Kieran speculated.

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. "That’s very good, Counselor. I think you may be onto something."

Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose. "And extrapolate from that theory. How is Naomi going to react when she finally comes out of this state?"

Kieran’s face darkened. "Worse than Harry, I imagine."

Janeway stiffened. "Why worse?"

"Because Harry had a carefree childhood, from what he’s told me, one filled with other children and games and sports and all the imaginative things normal children do. Naomi hasn’t even had the advantage of a fanciful childhood to help her differentiate fantasy from reality. Her whole life has been school and working in Engineering. Her interactions have been primarily with adults, except for the few months she got to spend with Mezoti. She doesn’t role-play in holonovels or participate in other forms of pretending, other than running simulations for Engineering exercises. But simulations of reality are very different from pure fantasy or role-playing. Since Naomi left behind Trevis and Flotter when she was about seven, she has stopped being a child. Naomi has also had her share of tragedy, and if you ask me, too much responsibility for someone so young."

Janeway narrowed her eyebrows at the Counselor. "Yes, Lieutenant, you’ve made it patently obvious on too many occasions that you think Naomi is too young to pull duty shifts in Engineering. I’m quite weary of that discussion, thank you."

Kieran swallowed her defensive reaction. "I’m sorry, Captain. It was not my intent to rehash that either. I’m merely telling you how I think Naomi’s recent history factors into her likely reaction to this exposure to the cerebrosporum. I think she will be in far more danger than Harry."

Janeway nodded, a conciliatory gesture. "Danger of what?"

Kieran swallowed hard. "Danger of being incapable of relearning the difference between fantasy and reality. And if we get past that—her emotional reaction to the realization is likely to be much worse than a temper tantrum."

The Doctor nodded sympathetically. "I think the Counselor is right on target, Captain. I think you and Seven had better be prepared for the worst."

"Kathryn," Kieran tried to warn her gently, "I think there’s a chance this is going to be much more traumatic for Naomi than losing Sam, or even being kidnapped, unless by some trick of fate, her hallucinations have been unpleasant enough that she will be glad to be back to reality. But considering the endorphin levels she is experiencing, and the Sergeant Regent’s contention that the Restidians seek out the euphoria this organism induces, I suspect Naomi is going to be even less interested in being in this reality than Harry."

The Doctor nodded emphatically. "I can report that Naomi has been smiling in her sleep, and I’ve observed other—ahem—physiological responses that indicate her experiences have been pleasurable."

"You mean her endorphin levels," Janeway stated.

"Yes, that too," the Doctor was being evasive.

Janeway gave him a piercing look. "What else, specifically?"

The Doctor cleared his throat. "She’s had several—sexual—reactions," he explained.

Janeway was taken aback. "You mean she’s—in a state of arousal?"

"I mean she’s been experiencing orgasms," the Doctor explained, not meeting Janeway’s eyes.

Kathryn pinched the bridge of her nose, partly to hide her embarrassment, and partly to focus her mind on something besides the absurdity of a ten year old having an extended wet dream. "Let’s keep that little tidbit out of her medical records, shall we? I’d prefer it be encrypted as confidential information. It’s not to leave this room."

Kieran nodded. "Agreed."

"All right. Doctor, keep me apprised of her condition. Get cracking on a treatment regimen for Mr. Kim, preferably one that doesn’t require a straight jacket," she said tiredly. "You’re dismissed. Counselor," she brought Kieran up abruptly. "I’d like a word."

Kieran waited for the Doctor to leave. "Yes, Captain?" she assumed a guarded posture.

"Can you help her?" Kathryn asked simply.

Kieran lay her hand on Janeway’s forearm. "You know I’ll do my best, Kat. But I won’t know how to begin to treat her, until after she wakes up. I’ll have a better idea then what we’re up against. I mean, we might get lucky, and she might wake up singing and happy. Tom practically did. But I’m afraid she won’t. I wanted you to know the odds, that’s all."

"I appreciate that," Janeway said quietly. "But if she come out worse than Harry—do you really think it’s because I let her assume adult responsibilities before she was ready?"

Kieran flinched. "Kat, I didn’t mean to place blame," she wished she could take back the words. "Look, Sam told us a long time ago Ktarians develop faster than human kids. It’s a tough call you and Seven have had to make," she leaned against Kathryn’s desk, supporting her weight on both hands. "Naomi is off the scale for her peers in IQ, she’s surrounded by adults, and she’s got no kids to play with, so it stands to reason she’s going to act like an adult in a lot of ways. Letting her work in Engineering was a judgement call. She clearly wanted to do it. B'Elanna will attest to the fact that Naomi is fully qualified to do it. I’m not so sure you could’ve forced her to have a fanciful childhood when she’s in a hurry to grow up. I didn’t mean you’re responsible if she comes out of this thing badly. And I don’t think you let her assume responsibilities before she was ready, because clearly, she was ready intellectually for those challenges," Kieran contended. "And good lord, Kathryn, I’d never say ‘I told you so’ to another parent, not when I know how difficult it is to make choices for our kids."

"I honestly don’t think Seven or I pushed her to grow up any faster than she seems suited to," Kathryn’s tone was pleading. "I was trying to let Naomi have some say-so about her education and her duties. We even tried to encourage her to spend more time in recreational activities, but she’d rather realign a power coupling than play a game or participate in arts and crafts."

Kieran frowned. "I know, Kat. Truly. Naomi is very stubborn, and impossible to deter when she sets her mind on something. I gave up trying to get her to play on the holodeck a long time ago. I can only get her to play Kadis Kot if we play for rations or something she wants. She’s just not interested in ‘kid things’. You can’t make her have fun doing things we think should be fun for her. In fact, I was wrong to try to limit her time on the job. She seems to take tremendous comfort in working on the ship’s systems, and it makes her feel important and useful. She also knows that if she wanted to take a break, anytime, B'Elanna would let her and so would you."

Kathryn nodded sadly. "I’m just not a good role model for playing, Kato. I’m a Captain, and Seven is a former drone. Neither of us has had a lot of leisure time—Seven still fights the guilty feeling that it’s inefficient, and I simply have too many other things to do. I’m afraid Naomi gets her work ethic from us, and it may be the wrong message for a ten year old."

Kieran grinned warmly. "Yeah, but Naomi spends a lot of time with me, and I’m the biggest goof off on your ship, so if she wanted to have a good role model for playing, she has me."

Kathryn snorted indignantly. "Play? You? You’re working three full-time jobs, last time I checked, Kato. Counselor, Command School Candidate, and Mommy. You’re as much a workaholic as I am. You just act like a goof off—like it’s part of your ‘I’m approachable’ image, or something."

Kieran laughed. "Hey, we all have our images to maintain, Captain. You fool people into thinking you’re infallible, self-assured, and larger than life. I fool people into thinking they can trust me to tell their troubles to because I’m just like them. It’s part of the illusion of being a Counselor. They see me as someone they can confide in, because I make them think we have so much in common, when in fact, they can be a different gender, different species, different sexual preference—almost nothing like me at all."

Kathryn regarded her with mild surprise. "I think I knew that, but I didn’t realize it was a conscious deception you project. Very crafty."

"Not really. It’s just a different flavor of the same psychology of leadership you employ," she explained.

Kathryn smiled, but sighed. "I hate to cut this short, Kato, but I have a crisis on the bridge to attend to. And I need you to figure out how to keep my daughter from going off the deep end, so get back to work. God," she smarted, "you really are a goof off, in your own way," she teased.

"I’ve been trying to tell you, Captain," she shot back playfully. Then in a serious tone, she said, "It’s going to be okay, Kat. I’ve never lied to you, and I’m telling you now, it will be okay."

"Thank you, Counselor," Kathryn said softly. "You’re dismissed."

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

Naomi Wildman lay tangled in the sheets with her spouse, surrounded by muscular arms and the warmth of Kieran’s body supporting Naomi’s weight as they leaned against the headboard of their bed. They were mere hours from DS9, and they knew it would be days before they had the luxury of uninterrupted time together again. Kieran’s nose was pressed against Naomi’s hair, the fragrant cascade of gold-red relaxing her like a sedative.

"When did you know?" Naomi was asking.

"That I’m in love with you?" Kieran asked quietly.

"Yeah. How long ago?"

Kieran considered, absently kissing Naomi’s head, hands splayed across her chest as she held the smaller woman against her. "Probably about five months after you left earth. I think I knew deep down, anyway. It was pretty obvious, when you consider I’d break dates with Eilish or Jamie just to gab with you on a subspace channel for hours. But I didn’t admit it to myself then. I couldn’t," she squeezed her partner.

"Why not?" Naomi kissed Kieran’s hand as it rested on her arms, cradling her from the front and from behind.

"I had a lot of issues with it," Kieran admitted. "It’s been hard on a lot of levels. I had to deal with guilt about B'Elanna, and worry over how your mothers would react, and then there was you," she added, kissing Naomi’s shoulder.

"Me? How do you mean?" Naomi snuggled back against Kieran further.

"I didn’t assume you felt the same, as I’ve already told you. But there was also this thing in my head, this hang up--partly about our age difference, and partly because I helped raise you. Now you’re like two different people in my mind. I mean, I have this vivid image of the Naomi Wildman I knew who was a child, and a completely separate person who is the adult Naomi Wildman I married. But the two weren’t always separate in my head, and I had to get that distinction clarified before I could pursue anything with you. Does that make sense?"

Naomi laughed softly. "Sort of. I guess I went through the same thing, at some point. When I was a kid, you were like a deity to me, or something. Perfect and unreachable and more than I could ever aspire to. But when I got to be in my late teens, maybe as old as 20, I realized that you’re a human being, like everyone else, and you have faults and weaknesses, just like me."

Kieran laughed. "I do?" she joked. Then more seriously, she added, "In other words, I fell off the pedestal."

Naomi shrugged lightly. "I suppose so. But it wasn’t like a sudden realization and disillusionment. It was a gradual thing, and by the time I was an adult, I had a very different image of you than the one I had as a kid. Not less, mind you, but different. In a lot of ways, I had a higher opinion of you than when I was a kid, because my impressions were finally based on knowing the real you, instead of some glorified you."

"Oh, right, like a glorified version of anyone wouldn’t be better than the real thing?" she was skeptical.

"Really," Naomi argued. "My image of you way back when was just an illusion. But now I know you for yourself, I’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and I still think you’re a wonderful person. Now I have proof of how special you are, because I’ve seen you in all sorts of situations, and you’ve never disappointed my expectations. You’ve consistently done the right things for the people you’ve loved. You’ve always worked hard, never lost your sense of humor, and refused to bow down to anyone, yet your actions are tempered by humility and reason. So in that respect, I have a higher opinion of you, because I have more experience with you to base an opinion on," she reasoned.

Kieran buried her face in Naomi’s shoulder. "You flatter me," she murmured. "But thank you." She considered her wife’s testament for several minutes. "I think something else I had to get over was thinking I’m not good enough for you," Kieran admitted softly. "Although that’s still something I struggle with."

Naomi turned in her arms, kissing her fiercely. "How could you ever think that?" she demanded plaintively. "What have I ever accomplished in my life that you haven’t? You outrank me. You’re one of Starfleet’s most decorated officers ever. You’re an accomplished athlete, a good musician, you have more education than I can even list—how can that translate into feelings of inadequacy about being with me?"

Kieran touched her face gently, studying her expression. "I know this is a superficial thing, Na, but it’s honest—one reason is that you are so beautiful. I’ve seen people stop in their tracks to look at you. You literally take people’s breath away, especially mine. And you have aptitudes I will never have for mechanics, physics, electronics, quantum theory, bioengineering—you’re absolutely brilliant at all things scientific, and I have such a gap there, not just in knowledge but in the capacity to know. And accomplishments? You were the youngest person in Starfleet history to be accorded the rank of Ensign. Do you realize I was almost as old as you are now and still an Ensign? You’ve always been precocious, Na. But more than that, there are so many people who are as good as me or better than me that would kill to be with you. I never could figure out why you’d want me. Hell, I still don’t know, but I’m glad you do," she kissed her softly, drawing her closer.

"I just always felt that I belong with you, KT. I can’t explain it. I don’t understand it. No one else ever felt ‘right’ to me. Even though I knew that’s how you felt about B'Elanna, I still loved you and couldn’t see myself with anyone else. After she died, I was afraid that somehow, I caused it, because I had wanted you so much for so long that somehow that made it happen. I know that’s not possible, and I know that I never wanted anything to happen to her. You have to believe me when I tell you that I loved her with all my heart. And I adored Katie. I’d have given my own life to save Katie, just for Geejay’s sake. God, those two belonged together. But I can’t be sorry anymore, because I’m just too elated over the fact that you love me."

Kieran smiled warmly, eyes brimming with tears. "I do love you, honey. I think B'Elanna would be happy for us, too. I know that’s hard to believe, considering how jealous Klingon women can be. But she loved us both, and she wouldn’t begrudge us this time together. She actually told me once that it gave her peace of mind knowing that if anything ever happened to her, she knew you’d take care of me. It wasn’t too long ago that we had that conversation. Maybe she knew something I didn’t."

Naomi nodded. "I believe that—that some people have an accurate sense of their mortality. Grandma Gretchen says her great grandmother always told everyone she was going to die when she was 41, and she absolutely did. She just knew."

"Well, if B'Elanna knew she was going to die, she didn’t give me any specifics. And if she had known Katie would die too, she’d have done something to prevent what happened. So I don’t think she knew anything concrete. But maybe she had a vague sort of inkling about it." Kieran rested her chin on Naomi’s head, holding her lightly. "You know, I didn’t know about Katie and Geejay, not until after Katie died."

Naomi eased onto her side in Kieran’s arms so they could make eye contact. "You didn’t have any idea at all?"

"Well, I mean, I knew they had a special bond—we all knew that. But I didn’t know they were sexually involved. They were pretty young," Kieran defended her ignorance.

"They became lovers when they were about fourteen, if I remember right. Just before you took command of the Sagan. That’s why Geejay begged to go with you—well, one of the reasons. She also wasn’t getting along with K-Mom very well, but you knew that."

Kieran sighed. "Yeah. Kat damn near took my head off when I suggested that she should let Geejay come with us. B'Elanna was all for it, and even Seven thought it was a good idea, things were so volatile with those two. I wonder if B'Elanna knew then that Katie and Geejay were lovers?"

Naomi chuckled. "Of course she knew. She caught them red-faced."

Kieran pushed Naomi away to fix her with a pointed stare. "She never told me that. Dish the dirt."

"B'Elanna and I were working on the power grid one afternoon, and she got slush deuterium all over her. She went home to change clothes, and walked in on them. I guess Katie figured you and Lanna were always gone at that hour, and it never occurred to her to put a privacy seal on your quarters," Naomi snickered wickedly. "I knew about the two of them from the first time, because Geejay told me everything, but B'Elanna was pretty damned surprised, I’ll tell you," Naomi slapped her thigh, laughing. "It’s the only time I’ve ever seen her speechless."

Kieran laughed too, thinking of her loquacious wife. "She told you about it?"

"It was a riot, KT. She came back to Engineering, looking like she’d seen a ghost. I thought she was sick or something, and I made her sit down. She just looked at me and said ‘Jesus space-walking Christ. Katie and Geejay were doing it on my couch.’ I about split a gut."

Kieran howled with laughter. "I can’t believe she didn’t tell me. Damn her!"

"She was going to, but she was afraid you’d try to separate them or something. I told her I thought you would, too."

Kieran settled herself. "Yeah, I might have. It would have been stupid of me, but I wasn’t great with Katie. We were just always a wavelength apart, she and I. I loved her so much," Kieran’s voice caught in her throat, "but I know she resented me a lot. Especially after I got the Captaincy of the Sagan, and pulled her away from Voyager. She hardly spoke to me for the first year we had that ship. She was a royal fuck up, too, always late for duty shifts and doing a half-assed job at everything. I spent a lot of time chewing her a new asshole. B'Elanna couldn’t help her, because I was the Captain and her mother, and B'Elanna and I fought a lot about it. That first year was miserable. I wish someone had told me Katie was acting out because she was missing her lover."

Naomi shrugged. "You knew she missed Geejay. We all knew. They were both depressed. And Geejay still hasn’t forgiven K-Mom for making her stay on Voyager. Would you really have let her come with you to the Sagan?"

"Yes I would have. But Na, even though I knew those two missed each other, I thought they were just best friends, like Kat and I, and I figured Katie could adapt to that. I didn’t know there was the sexual element. Did Kat know?"

"Not until you guys were packing to leave. Geejay and K-Mom got into this knock-down drag-out fight about Geejay wanting to go with you. In a pretty tense moment, Geejay blurted it out, something about ‘she’s my lover—we’re going to get married, and you can’t stop us!’ and K-Mom just went white—you know that look she gets when she is so angry she can’t talk, and she just shakes and all the blood drains from her face."

"Yeah, I know the look. I’ve only seen it a couple of times. But it scared me. Geejay must have almost wet herself."

Naomi laughed. "Hardly. Geejay isn’t afraid of K-Mom, and she wasn’t about to back down. She hollered at K-Mom about how if K-Mom hadn’t been so goddamned busy with her fucking precious Voyager, she might have had a clue what was going on right under her nose. Mom just lost it. Oh my God, she was pissed off," Naomi remembered. "She called Geejay a liar, told her there was no way they could be involved without her knowing it, and Geejay was just making it all up. K-Mom threatened to get you and B'Elanna and Katie and confront the two of them, and Geejay shut right up. That’s how K-Mom knew Geejay was telling the truth. I think she never said anything to you or B'Elanna because she was hoping that with you guys gone, Geejay and Katie would think better of their relationship, and maybe they’d cool down. I knew they would only love each other more though. But K-Mom never consulted me on anything, and I didn’t offer my opinion."

Kieran shook her head sadly. "We blew it, Kat and I. We should have let them be together. But if we had, Geejay would be dead. But they were so unhappy apart, I’m not sure which was worse."

Naomi nodded, her eyes misting. "I know which was worse — them being apart. I thought Geejay would die right along with Katie. I still wonder sometimes if she’s ever going to truly recover. It would be horrible to lose your soulmate as a teenager, and know you have to live eighty or ninety years without them. I tried several times after you left to convince K-Mom to let Geejay join your crew, but K-Mom is so stubborn, and she thought it’d be like giving Geejay permission to go to an orgy, or something."

Kieran smiled softly. "Katie and Geejay were lovers. Were they really going to get married?"

Naomi nodded. "After their first year at the Academy, that was the plan. Geejay had been saving credits for Katie’s wedding ring since she was sixteen."

Kieran laughed. "Of course, because Katie would have wanted the most expensive ring she could find, something Geejay couldn’t afford," she squeezed Naomi tightly. "That girl had no sense of living within her means. She had big appetites, whether it was for food or possessions. She always wanted the latest, greatest thing, whatever was a fad."

Naomi nodded. "Yeah, but not Geejay. She only cared about giving things to Katie. She never wanted anything for herself. I think Geejay used you as a role model—you and Seven. She ended up like you two."

"You think so?" Kieran was hopeful.

"Well she sure didn’t emulate K-Mom," Naomi giggled. "Even now, Geejay’s pretty ambivalent about her. It hurts Kathryn a lot, because she feels so guilty over keeping Geejay from Katie, but at the same time, she knows it saved Geejay’s life. Geejay has told her several times she’d have rather had those four years and died with Katie than have the rest of her life without Katie."

"God, that must have cut Kat like a jagged blade, to have that thrown in her face," Kieran clutched at her chest. "Do you think Geejay means it?"

"I know so," Naomi sighed. "And I feel for her future partners, because it is very hard to be someone’s second choice," she said in a knowing tone.

Kieran wrapped Naomi tighter in her arms. "It’s not that you’re my second choice, Na. It was a matter of timing. I just fell in love with B'Elanna first. You weren’t a consideration then because of your age. And don’t ask me to guess what would have happened, if you’d been old enough then, because I don’t know. I can’t pretend to know. And I don’t want to play guessing games. All I can offer you is what I am now, and the life I have now. It’s going to have to be enough," Kieran said firmly.

Naomi settled against her, hand splayed across her chest. "Honey, it’s enough. It’s everything. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful."

Kieran kissed her hair gently. "It’s okay. I imagine you felt that way, and you’re entitled to your own feelings about it. But after I knew I was in love with you, I never once thought it was because I can’t have B'Elanna anymore. It just hasn’t been like that, Na."

"I believe you. I didn’t mean to upset you, KT."

"You didn’t," she murmured, breathing the scent of Naomi’s skin. "Just—talking about Katie, on one hand, it’s a relief, and on the other, it makes me sorry for all the things I could’ve done better. You know?"

"Yeah, I know. I think about it too. Things I wish I’d said, things I could’ve done to help Katie when she and Geejay were separated. We all have regrets," she said bitterly.

"If it’s any consolation, honey, it sounds like you’ve been a tremendous comfort and a good sister to Geejay. She gave me a minor ass chewing at the dance the other night, told me in so many words to get off my ass and admit I’m in love with you, and stop making you wonder."

Naomi giggled. "I’ll be sure to thank her."

Kieran grinned. "Has anybody even told her we got married?"

Naomi kissed her briefly. "Yeah. I sent her a subspace the other day. Told her as soon as we get back, we’re having the wedding of the century, so she’d better be ready to help me plan it. I haven’t heard back. I think she’s having a wild affair with somebody."

Kieran laughed. "I bet. She was at the dance with Eilish MacDougal," Kieran advised her wife.

Naomi scowled. "Oh, swell. She’s going to show up at my wedding with one of your ex-lovers. How tacky."

"Marry someone with a sordid past, and it’s bound to happen," Kieran teased. "How do you think I’m going to feel, with Rachel McVicker’s eyes throwing daggers at me through the whole ceremony?"

"Rachel and I were never lovers," Naomi argued.

"No," Kieran agreed, "but Rachel feels about you like you felt about me all those years I was married to B'Elanna. That has to be difficult for her. I caught her staring at you at the dance the other night. It was a look of such pure longing, it made me feel sorry for her."

"Yeah, I know," Naomi said regretfully. "Rachel’s sweet, and pretty, and smart—but she’s not you. I do feel bad for her, though. She seems to always fall in love with married women—well except for the few years she was with Noah. I never did figure out what went wrong."

Kieran smirked. "What went wrong is Rachel is a lesbian. She tried to make it work with Noah, but she really needed a woman in her life. He knew it, she knew it, and there was nothing either one of them could do about it."

"Poor Noah," Naomi muttered.

"Hey, have you decided where to go for our honeymoon?" Kieran nuzzled Naomi’s cheek.

"Yes. Risa. I think it will be perfect," Naomi said suggestively.

Kieran kissed her deeply. "Mmmmm…and why do you think that?"

"Because they’ve raised sexual pleasure to an art form, and so have you," Naomi flirted with her. "I think that atmosphere will give you inspiration."

Kieran feigned shock. "Aren’t you the hedonist," she taunted, brushing her lips over Naomi’s pulse point.

"You made me that way," Naomi accused. "I had no idea the pleasures of the flesh could be so—addicting. Now I’m just a captive of my own desires. It’s all your fault."

Kieran moved over her seductively, brushing her thumbs over Naomi’s bare nipples, feeling them harden. "Let me liberate you," she quipped, dropping her face to capture a bright pink bud.

_______________

Harry Kim had battered himself against the bulkhead until he lost consciousness. The alarms had gone off to alert the medical staff, but the Doctor was working in the lab, and Tom Paris had been on the holodeck. When Counselor Thompson-Torres arrived, Harry was lying in a puddle of blood, looking more peaceful than he had in the last 12 hours. Kieran hailed security, hailed the Doctor, and hailed Captain Janeway. She took down the force field and dragged Harry to a sitting position, heaved him over her shoulder and managed to lift him to a biobed. His face was lacerated and abraded, deep bruises surrounding his eyes.

"DOCTOR!" Kieran shouted into her comm badge. "I think Harry has had a vascular accident," she panicked, looking at his face.

That got his attention and the Doctor materialized. "Where is Tom? He was supposed to be watching Harry for me," he bitched, running a medical scanner over his patient.

Janeway came into the sickbay, a wave of revulsion sweeping over her at the sight of her Ops officer. "Good lord, what happened to him?"

"Apparently Tom Paris was taking a break from duty," Kieran sneered, "and Harry decided to slam dance with the bulkheads."

"He’s okay," the Doctor announced. "He has a concussion, but no embolisms or aneurysms. But Tom Paris isn’t going to be so lucky, if I get my hands on him," the Doctor snarled.

"Don’t make me," Harry was crying as he regained consciousness, whimpering like a wounded animal. "I don’t want to be here. I can’t be here. Send me back," he demanded, grabbing Kieran’s uniform jacket and shaking her. "Please, send me back. I miss her," he begged pathetically.

Kieran held him carefully, rocking him like a child. "It’s okay, big guy," she murmured softly. "I know. We’ll talk about it, I promise. Just let the Doc fix your face, okay?" she patted his back and he clung to her, sobbing. "I’ve got you now, Harry," she whispered, stroking his hair.

"I want Seriah," he bawled, shoulders shaking.

Janeway looked meaningfully at the Counselor. "I’m going to find Tom. I think he’s about to have a meeting with the ass-end of my boot," she gnashed her teeth angrily.

Tom Paris had been in the holodeck for over three hours. A line of crewmembers was forming outside, each clamoring for the Captain’s intervention.

"He’s run clear through my time," Dani Jessup complained, "and into the next half-hour segment. He’s got us locked out."

"I tried to break the privacy seal," Michael Carter offered, "but I can’t budge it."

Janeway held up her hands for silence. "I’ll take care of it. You’ll all be credited with the time you missed. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Now please, clear this corridor. Janeway to Tuvok," she tapped her comm badge. "Get a detail to holodeck one. I think Tom Paris may have made a trip back to the Rainbow Caves, if you get my meaning."

She perused the logs, only to find out that since Tom had come back from Restid Three, he had usurped the holodeck for thirteen hours out of a total of 32. She shook her head. "Damn it, he’s not okay," she muttered. "He just doesn’t act as strangely as Harry."

Back in the sickbay, Harry Kim, though heavily sedated and partially restrained, told Counselor Kieran Thompson-Torres all about Seriah Kim, their life together, and the child they were expecting. He impressed upon her the urgency of getting him back to Seriah. He pleaded for Kieran’s assistance, because his child was due any day. Kieran listened with a heavy heart, not knowing how to break the news to Harry again, as she had the day before, that Seriah Kim was not real.

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

Captain Kieran Wildman testified before the tribunal for the better part of three days before being dismissed. The hours on the stand felt like years to her as she was forced to relive the days before and after the attack on the Sagan. She was made to recount her memories of every dead crewmember, including her own family, while the murderers sat stone-faced and impervious to any remorse. Her instincts told her to leap across the tiny cage of a witness stand and kill them where they breathed. Her hatred ebbed and grew over the course of her testimony, until the impact of it left her weak and exhausted.

Admiral Picard and Deanna Troi bolstered her between sessions, but her despair was palpable. Deanna took the Admiral aside at the beginning of the second day, and advised him that perhaps, Naomi had been correct, that Kieran needed her as much as Deanna. The Admiral sent a security escort to bring Naomi to the trial, and on the next recess, Naomi and Kieran were put in a private chamber off the main courtroom.

"Hey KT," Naomi greeted her softly, twining her arms around the tall Captain’s neck.

Kieran held on to Naomi’s waist, bowing her head on Naomi’s shoulder. "Hi," she managed.

"Deanna thought it might do you some good to see me," she explained quietly, rubbing Kieran’s back gently and trying to help her relax.

"It does," she agreed, too weary to raise her head. "They warned me that this would be difficult. That was the understatement of the year."

Naomi patted her back, soothing her hands over the bent shoulders. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Kieran hesitated. What could she really say, except that it was horrendous to think about all those senseless deaths, and it made her relive the helplessness she felt for every single person under her command that perished. "Not really," she decided. "It’s just having to rehash it, like I haven’t done that every day since it happened, anyway, and then having strangers watching me do it."

Naomi stroked the back of her short, chestnut hair, thinking how pitiful the fledgling strands were. "I want you to look at me from now on. You don’t have to look at the prosecutor or the defense counsel. You don’t have to look at the tribunal judges. Just find me in the crowd, and keep your eyes on me. Pretend you’re telling me about it, just me. Shut the rest of it out, KT. It’s just you and me, talking about it. That’s something we do all the time, right? Just talking. No big deal."

Kieran sighed tiredly, wishing she could take Naomi to bed and pull the covers over their heads and never come out again. "Okay. I’ll try," she replied in a tiny voice. "When this is over for the day, will you take me back to our quarters and hold me?"

"Yes, honey, of course," Naomi reassured her. "All night. It’ll just be us, and I’ll take care of everything."

A knock sounded at the door. "Recess is over. The tribunal is back," Picard called to them.

Kieran sighed again. "I have to go."

Naomi kissed her tenderly, taking both hands in her own. "I’m right here, KT. Lean on me."

Kieran forced a thin smile. "I will. I love you, Na."

Sitting in the courtroom, listening to the horrors being retold, watching the immeasurable price it cost her wife, Naomi Wildman steeled herself against the need to cry, plastered a look of love and confidence and encouragement on her face, and never took her eyes off Kieran. When things got particularly bad, Naomi took Kathryn’s hand and squeezed until Kathryn thought the bones would break, but neither woman’s expression faltered. Until the prosecutor showed the holoimages.

Blown up to life size, the record of Kieran’s injuries was paraded before the assembled group in full color, every gory image exceeding the intensity of its predecessor. Seeing the morbid curiosity of the press made Naomi livid, but the investigative holographs of Kieran’s head wounds made her physically ill, and when Kieran saw them, she hid her face in her hands, fighting the surging bile that threatened to come up.

"Is that you, Captain?" the prosecutor asked again.

"Yes, Sir," Kieran answered, not able to look at the pictures.

"Let the record show that the Captain lost her right eye, and 6% of her brain mass in the right hemisphere," he stated dispassionately. "Now the burns," he said to the visual aids assistant.

As the image sprang onto the overhead screen, the sound of retching filled the room. The tribunal leader called for a three minute recess and several people ran for the bathrooms. Even the Cardassians winced at the pictures. It was the only reaction Naomi had seen from them.

Kieran prayed silently to be done with it. Luckily, Naomi stayed with her, nodding reassurance, trying to smile at her partner with understanding and compassion. Kieran fixed her gaze on the hazel-eyed beauty, and the bile settled back down. She knew at the end of the ordeal, Naomi would be waiting.

Kieran kept her composure admirably, throughout the long list of casualties and the images of the people lost, each one of whom she named and described briefly. The prosecutor was more a showman than an attorney, however, and he deliberately orchestrated the list so that the last two images were of B'Elanna and Katie.

Kieran gasped softly as an image of B'Elanna filled the screen, a holovideo she could not remember seeing before.

B'Elanna was laughing, and the soft lighting around her made her seem so warm and approachable. "Kieran," she said, holding her sides, "you put it together backwards. For Kahless sake, let me do it," she insisted, reaching out and snatching a tool from the unseen person taking the video. The camera panned to show Katie’s first bicycle, which Kieran had assembled with the handle bars upside down, and then back to B'Elanna, who was still laughing. "She’s going to think Santa Claus is mentally challenged," she hooted.

The playback stopped, and B'Elanna froze on the screen, head thrown back, eyes alight with merriment, teeth gleaming white, hair shimmering in a dark cascade to her elegant shoulders.

"Captain, identify this crewmember," the prosecutor said quietly.

"B'Elanna Thompson-Torres, Lieutenant Commander, Chief Engineer. My wife. And the mother of my only child," Kieran obediently responded shakily, unable to take her eyes from the screen. "She was my wife for 19 years. And she didn’t deserve to die," Kieran said softly, eyes filling with tears. "She was smart and beautiful and funny and she loved me. She loved our life and our daughter and our friends. She wanted to grow old gracefully and retire in Florida and help raise our grandkids. She didn’t deserve to die," she repeated, turning her eyes to the suspects. "Have you ever lost a spouse? Have you?!" she demanded. The suspects looked away.

The final image appeared, and Katie’s ebullient voice filled the room. "How do I look, Mom?" she asked Kieran, turning side to side to look at herself in her cadet’s uniform.

"Honey," Kieran scolded her, "they’ll replicate uniforms for you at the Academy. You aren’t supposed to wear that until you’re in school," she chuckled off camera. Kieran sighed audibly in the playback. "But you look outstanding. Beautiful, just like your mother. I’m going to miss you, Katie."

Katie primped playfully, her broad forehead framing her lovely eyes and dark eyebrows, her features softer than B'Elanna’s due to Kieran’s genetic influence, but the Klingon bloodlines evident. "I’ll miss you too, Mom. But I’ll get over it," she teased, going over to the taller Captain for a hug. As she broke away, the image of her stopped. She was grinning mischievously, and looking like she was ready to take on the world.

The prosecutor turned to Kieran. "Identify her, please."

"Kathryn Ada Thompson-Torres. Katie, to her family and friends. My 18 year old daughter. My only child. The namesake of Captain Kathryn Janeway and my maternal grandmother, Ada Farrington. She was accepted to, but never got to attend, Starfleet Academy. She was her mother’s pride and joy," Kieran added softly, tears streaming down her face for the first time since the trial began. "She was an amazing girl," she faltered over the words, breaking down completely.

The tribunal shouted for order, banging the gavel over the din of voices and sympathetic murmurs from the gallery. "We are recessed for lunch. One hour," the tribunal leader declared, wiping impatiently at her own eyes.

Kieran didn’t move. Naomi and Deanna rushed to the front of the room, Kathryn close behind. They closed ranks around her, shoving away the insistent reporters wielding their PADDs and holoimagers, flanking Kieran until she could pull herself together.

Naomi leaned over her, whispering beside her ear. "You were great, KT. You made it through the hardest part. It’ll get easier now, honey. You were excellent. The prosecutor looks very pleased," she reported, trying to shore up her partner.

Kieran shook with the force of her grief, unable to get a rein on her rampant outburst. "Please," she cried softly, "get me out of here. I have to get out of this crowd," she pleaded.

"Let’s go," Kathryn nodded at the other two women. "Admiral," she motioned Picard over. "You clear a path."

Seven of Nine stood shoulder to shoulder with the Admiral, arms linked, looking for all the world like a Borg drone ready to assimilate anything that walked. "They will move for me," she said darkly.

The six of them moved in tandem out of the courtroom, fending off reporters and curious onlookers. "In here," Picard shouted over the press of the crowd, punching an access code into a door panel. The whoosh of the door was the biggest relief Kieran could imagine as the six of them poured into the room and the door sealed behind them.

"This area is secure," Picard announced. "Commander," he nodded to Icheb, who was waiting to be called to the stand.

"I want to be in there," Icheb began immediately. "I don’t care what security says—" he shut his mouth as he realized Kieran had come in behind Picard. "Captain!" he rushed over and grabbed her. "I’ve missed you, Sir," he hugged the shaken woman. "They wouldn’t let me see you," he explained, giving Deanna a dirty look.

Kieran reached deeper inside herself for control. This was her First Officer, and it was unseemly to cry in front of him. She had to be an example. She hugged him back, ruffling her hand through his short hair. "I know, Icheb. It’s okay. I’ve missed you too," she laughed at his startled expression. "What, don’t you think I care about you? You saved my ass, Commander," she kissed his cheek fondly.

He blushed from his adam’s apple to his scalp, but smiled warmly. "I didn’t save you, Captain, but thank you for saying so. You look wonderful," he let his eyes take her in. "Much better than the last time I saw you," he joked.

She forced herself to laugh. "The last time I saw you, I was looking at your boots before I passed out," she chuckled. "Someday, I’ll buy you a drink and you can fill me in on what I missed."

Icheb smiled so broadly, his face hurt. "Kieran," he lowered his voice. "I’m so sorry—"

"Don’t," she said shortly. "I can’t. Not now. You’ll understand when it’s your turn," she inclined her head in the direction of the courtroom. "Besides, there are happier things to report," she wiped her eyes on her sleeve, pulling Naomi beside her. "Congratulate us."

Icheb’s eyes widened. "You didn’t!" he grinned, snatching Naomi’s hand. "My God, you did!" he studied the wedding band, then kissed Naomi impulsively. "Congratulations, Naomi. Captain," he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "This is wonderful news. I have some news, too," he laughed, squeezing Kieran’s arm. "I got married, too."

Kieran’s eyes went wide in return. "You didn’t! Who is she? You dog, you’ve been holding out on us all!"

"She’s back in our quarters, under guard. She’s none too happy about it, either."

"Who?" Naomi demanded impatiently.

Icheb smiled secretively. "Mezoti."

Naomi smacked his arm. "Liar!" she accused, laughing. "Really?"

He nodded. "Her people found the same wormhole Voyager used to get home, and she came looking for us all. She found me first," he bragged, grinning. "We got married about a year ago. She’s expecting, too."

"Oh Icheb," Kathryn chimed in, kissing his cheek. "That’s wonderful news."

"Indeed," Seven agreed, adding her lips to his forehead. "I can’t wait to see her again."

Kieran smiled genuinely, thinking how the reunion had stifled her sorrow, and felt grateful for the diversion. She kissed Naomi’s cheek. "Thank you for today," she whispered. "You were my strength."

Naomi squeezed her tightly, eyes saying more than words could.

_____________

Counselor Kieran Thompson-Torres had been in session with Tom Paris all morning. They had discussed his recent penchant for spending all his time in the holodeck, and although Tom tried to argue that 13 hours wasn’t all that much time, Kieran had him admitting he was not entirely himself since the incident on Restid Three. Tom told her a little about his particular fantasy world, but nothing about how in his hallucinations, he and B'Elanna were back together. He merely indicated he had had a wife and a family, and had been a test pilot.

Kieran and the Doctor had devised a treatment regimen that they were testing on Harry, and the dark haired Lieutenant seemed to be doing better. The regimen was designed to repress Harry’s violent reactions, without completely rendering him unconscious, but he was still heavily drugged, and Kieran wanted to ease up on the chemical suppressants. However, everytime they made a miniscule adjustment to his medication, he became uncontrollably violent again, and they ended up dosing him at the original level.

As long as they could keep Harry conscious, they could avoid having him slip back into his fantasy life with Seriah. Kieran had grown weary of having to tell Harry repeatedly that Seriah was a figment of his imagination, and she insisted they keep him from lapsing back into a comatose state just so he could avoid the trauma of losing Seriah again. When he wasn’t raving angrily, though, he took on a haunted expression that Kieran could hardly bear to look at. She was terribly fond of her study partner, and he had been one of B'Elanna’s closest friends since B'Elanna joined Voyager. It pained them both to see the young Lieutenant so unhappy and ill.

Naomi Wildman’s brain chemistry had altered over the last few hours, no longer characterized by massive influxes of endorphins, and the Doctor thought that was a good sign that she might regain consciousness soon. Kieran spent as much free time as she could with the Ktarian, talking to her, urging her to wake up, singing to her, or just holding her hand. Kieran had no idea that her physical presence was only serving to play into Naomi’s dream state.

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

Kieran Wildman crawled onto the bed, her mind so exhausted that every joint in her body ached from the strain of it. Naomi was in the outer room of their quarters, playing hostess to their friends and family, and trying to discreetly send them away. Kathryn and Seven left first, then Icheb and Mezoti. Admiral Picard and Counselor Troi were not taking the hint, however.

"Naomi," Deanna was saying, "Kieran has been through a terrible time today. If she has trouble sleeping, hail me. I’ll prescribe a mild sedative to help her sleep."

Naomi nodded. "Thank you. I know she appreciates that you’ve come all this way to be with her. She’d tell you, if her head weren’t so muddled right now."

"It isn’t going to be easy," Deanna continued, "but she might want to talk about B'Elanna and Katie, after seeing those holovids today. If that’s too hard for you, she can contact me, and I’ll come right over."

"It’s okay," Naomi reminded herself not to bristle defensively. "I don’t have any issues with her past."

"Well then," Picard lay a hand on Deanna’s arm, "we should leave you to your privacy. We’ll see you both in the morning."

"Are you sure you’ll be all right?" Deanna seemed reluctant.

"Yes, now please, don’t worry yourselves. Go get some rest," Naomi insisted, anxious to have them gone.

Finally, blessedly, they said goodnight and left. Naomi collapsed against the door, eyes turned heavenward. "Thank you," she sighed with relief. She crept back to the bedroom, where Kieran was sprawled across the bed, still dressed and snoring.

"So much for needing a sedative," she grinned at her spouse, stealing over to her to remove her boots.

Kieran awakened with a start. "B'Elanna?" she sat up, rubbing her eyes. Seeing Naomi at the foot of the bed, she scratched her head. "Na? What are you doing here?"

Naomi swallowed hard. "I’m trying to get your uniform off of you, honey. You fell asleep in it."

"Is Katie home yet?" she was clearly not fully awake.

Naomi wasn’t sure what to say. "She’s not coming home tonight, KT," she finally settled on.

"Here," she reached for Kieran’s uniform closure. "Let’s get you into bed," she remarked, gently tugging Kieran’s tunic off of her. She removed each of the four Captain’s pips and carefully set them on the nightstand before reaching for Kieran’s pants.

"Hey, you better not let Lanna catch you undressing me," she murmured, falling back asleep.

Naomi tugged her drawers off, then stripped down to nothing herself. She wrestled Kieran out of her gray tank shirt, left her in her silk boxers and socks, and ordered the lights out. Kieran immediately moved beside her, contouring her body around Naomi’s, holding her. "G’night, Na," she muttered. "Wake me up if you need anything."

Naomi smiled to herself. Even asleep, Kieran wanted to take care of her.

___________

Naomi Wildman regained consciousness two days after Harry Kim. She awoke with Kathryn and Seven beside her, and gazing around the sickbay, immediately realized something was wrong. After spending several days at Kieran’s bedside in the medical facilities at DS9, she knew the insides of it like the back of her own hand, and this was not DS9. She struggled to make her eyes focus, thinking she was seeing things, but another glance around signified she was on Voyager.

"Where’s KT?" she asked, trying to calm herself as she sat up.

Kieran stepped out from behind Seven. "Right here, sweetie."

The Doctor slipped up beside the biobed unobtrusively, scanning Naomi’s vital signs.

Naomi’s expression was one of pure bewilderment as she contemplated Kieran’s appearance. "Your hair," she murmured.

Kieran touched it self-consciously. "What? Is it coming unbraided?"

Naomi buried her face in her hands as the realization hit her. Kieran’s hair could not have grown back so quickly, yet here it was, braided to her waist. Kieran no longer wore command red, but was back in the pale blue uniform worn by the sciences. "Oh God, your hair," she moaned, rocking herself, arms wrapped tightly around her own torso. "No," she muttered in disbelief. "It can’t be," she started to cry.

Just then B'Elanna came into sickbay, sticking her head around the corner. "Thanks for the heads-up," she whispered to Kieran, who had hailed her. "Hey, Wildwoman!" she smiled at her protégé. "How are you feeling?"

Naomi started at the sight of the imagined dead Klingon. "B'Elanna?" she gasped, her face working into a frenzied state. "Oh my God, it’s really you," she murmured, reaching for her and grabbing her fiercely. "Oh my God," she repeated, hugging the amazed Klingon tightly.

Just as fiercely, Naomi shoved B'Elanna away, fingers tangled in the Chief Engineer’s mustard colored uniform tunic, a look of dire importance on her face. "Where is Katie?" she demanded, shaking B'Elanna slightly. "Where is she?"

B'Elanna looked at Kathryn and Seven, not quite certain what to make of the question. "She’s in daycare, honey, with Geejay and the other kids. Neelix is watching them."

Naomi let go of B'Elanna’s tunic, drew her knees up, and hid her face on her arms. "How old is Katie?" she managed through the muffling fabric of her pajamas.

"Almost a year," B'Elanna reported, still confused. "Naomi, what’s wrong?" she had a sinking feeling.

"Naomi," Kieran said patiently, "what is the last thing you remember?"

What do I remember? I remember making love with you. I remember feeling whole. I remember looking at the future and feeling like it wasn’t so bleak and pointless. I remember being the most important person in your life. "It doesn’t matter," Naomi replied bitterly. "Nothing matters now. It’s over. I can’t go back, can I?"

Kathryn lay a supportive hand on her back, smoothing the fabric of her top. "Where do you want to go, Naomi?"

Naomi didn’t answer. Back. Send me back. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to have to live through the next twenty years alone, never feeling like I belong, never feeling like anyone understands me.

Seven sat down on the biobed, wrapping an arm around her daughter. "Where is ‘back’, sweetie?"

"It doesn’t matter," she decided. "It’s over. It wasn’t real," she snarled, wiping her face impatiently on her knees. The desolation in her voice registered like an ill wind in the assembled women.

Kieran reached between Naomi’s head and her arms. She cupped her face in an outstretched hand and lifted it, studying the grief-stricken expression, knowing that Naomi was in emotional agony. "No, honey, it wasn’t real. This is real. We’re real. You’re real. You’re with people who love you, and we all missed you."

Naomi jerked her face away from Kieran’s touch. "Don’t call me that," she snapped, hiding her face again. "Just go away. Please. All of you. Just get out."

Kieran shrugged, but decided to try once more. "Honey, we—"

"I told you not to call me that!" Naomi shouted at her, her eyes hateful. "Get out! I don’t want to talk to you," she directed her ire only to Kieran. "Not now, not ever again!"

Kieran was completely at a loss. Of all the reactions she had imagined Naomi might have, the last one she counted on was that Naomi would suddenly despise her.

Seven tried to diffuse the tension in the room. "Naomi, you don’t mean that. You’ve been through a difficult experience. It will take some time for you to sort out your feelings," she said reasonably.

Naomi glared directly at Kieran. "I meant it," she affirmed. "Go away, Counselor," she hissed.

Kieran stepped back reflexively from the sheer venom in Naomi’s tone. "It’s okay, Seven," Kieran said quietly. "If you change your mind, Naomi—"

"Don’t hold your breath," she spat darkly. She appealed to the others as Kieran left the room. "Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk. I’m fine now. I just want to sleep."

The Doctor nodded vigorously. "Sleep would be a good thing," he confirmed. "Things will seem better after some rest," he added hopefully.

Things will seem better if I sleep until the end of time, Naomi thought darkly. She pulled the sheet over her head to block out the light from the ceiling panels, not responding to the chorus of goodnights that came from B'Elanna, Kathryn and Seven.

Kieran waited in the corridor outside sickbay, trying to convince herself that Naomi’s reaction would pass, that it was part of her delusional state, that it was anything but a genuine reaction. I should have a thicker skin than this. I can’t let her ravings hurt my feelings. She’s very fragile, right now. On the edge. Something must have happened between us in her hallucinations that made her not trust me anymore. But how can I help her if she won’t let me talk to her?

Kathryn, Seven and B'Elanna came into the corridor, dumbstruck. "What the hell just happened in there?" Kathryn demanded of the Counselor.

"Apparently," Kieran surmised, "Naomi and I had some sort of falling out in her hallucinations, because she can’t stand the sight of me." Kieran had been pacing, and she resumed her restless motion. "The question is, if I upset her so deeply, how the hell am I supposed to counsel her?"

B'Elanna touched Kieran’s sleeve. "She’ll change her mind, BangwIj. She’s probably just not sure right now what’s real and what’s not."

Kieran shook her head. "No, she clearly understood that she has been dreaming. She said ‘I can’t go back, can I’ and she understood that what she had experienced wasn’t real. So why would something that didn’t really happen make her detest me?"

"Perhaps it was so repugnant, she cannot dispel the memory of it?" Seven offered.

"Or," Kathryn hypothesized, "it’s something she wanted to happen, and knowing it didn’t is the problem."

Kieran bit her lip, mind churning. "She looked at my hair and seemed—shocked. As if it isn’t how she remembered it."

B'Elanna cocked her head. "But it’s always looked exactly like that since you met her," she argued. She considered a bit longer. "She seemed very surprised to see me."

Seven quirked an eyebrow. "She seemed very anxious about Katie, as well. And she was confused about how old Katie is."

Kathryn crossed her arms. "What do we do to help her adjust? Wherever she thinks she’s been, she’s obviously not happy to be back here."

Kieran breathed deeply. "I’ll try to talk to her again. Maybe if I see her alone, she’ll tell me what’s going on in her head."

Kathryn nodded. "Keep me apprised," she stated shortly.

_____________

Naomi Wildman could not remember ever feeling so horrid. Her entire being seemed tired, her body ached, and her heart was utterly bereft. It seemed that every time she awoke from the relief of escapist sleep, Kieran was there, urging her to talk about things Naomi would never, ever repeat. How could she tell Kieran that the mere sight of her made Naomi want to die? How could she ever explain that in the place she’d been most happy, B'Elanna was dead, and so was Katie? How could she begin to justify such atrocious circumstances, and have Kieran understand that somehow, despite the losses Kieran sustained in that life, Naomi had found happiness?

She was ashamed that someone else’s tragedy could result in her happiness, and she was embarrassed by her memories of the intimacy she had shared with Kieran Wildman. Thinking about it made her feel like a raw, gaping wound had been torn in her chest. She supposed that if she actually confided her experiences in Kieran Thompson-Torres, Kieran would either laugh about the impossibility of those things ever truly coming to pass, or she would feel sorry for Naomi. Naomi wasn’t certain which reaction was worse.

Everytime Kieran came to see her, her reaction was more intensely negative. She couldn’t bear seeing the Counselor relegated to a lesser rank and role, on one hand, and on the other, she couldn’t open her heart to a Kieran that had never been in love with her. Even more distressing was possessing the memories and experiences of an adult, but being trapped in the mind and body of a child. She couldn’t reconcile her adult experiences with the identity of her child self.

Kieran came in two days later, resigned to another terse interaction, but hoping Naomi might relent a little. She smiled brightly, lay a comforting hand on Naomi’s leg, and said "Hey. You’re looking better today. How do you feel?"

Naomi glared at her. "Like nobody ever listens to me. I keep telling you to fuck off, and you keep coming back. What part of ‘go away’ don’t you understand?"

Kieran tried to hide how abashed she was at Naomi’s harsh language, but only partially succeeded. She cleared her throat and continued. "Naomi, I am listening. But like it or not, my job is to try to help you, and that means I can’t just fuck off."

"So you aren’t going to leave me alone until I tell you what you want to hear?" she demanded impatiently.

"Not until you talk about what happened and why you’re so unhappy now," Kieran reiterated.

Naomi considered. "I went to a magical fairyland where everyone was happy, no one was lost in the Delta Quadrant, nobody invaded my privacy, and I didn’t have to see you every day."

Kieran smirked. "Let’s assume that’s an accurate description."

"Let’s assume I give a shit," Naomi looked bored.

"Explain something to me," Kieran ignored her blatant hostility. "How is it that before you went to the Rainbow Caves, you and I were best buddies, and now you hate me? What happened between us?"

Naomi grimaced, and Kieran knew she’d hit a nerve. "I got a glimpse of the future. It looked pretty good from there, but from where I sit now, it wasn’t so great after all."

"What was wrong with it?" Kieran asked gently, hoping they could get a true dialogue going.

Naomi rolled her eyes. "I was a fool, that’s what was wrong with it. I wasted my life waiting for—I made stupid decisions," she amended.

"How old were you?" Kieran pressed.

"A few years younger than you are now," Naomi replied honestly. "A lot had changed. Let’s just leave it at that."

Kieran nodded. "One more question for today, okay? If it wasn’t so great, then why aren’t you happy to be here with us?"

Naomi laughed bitterly, the sound of it grating on Kieran’s nerves. "Who said this was better?" She pulled the covers up and rolled away from Kieran. "If we’re going to go through this pointless exercise, Counselor, send Dee next time. I’m not going to talk to you about this. Are we clear? I will not discuss my experiences with you."

Kieran was wounded, but she agreed. "I’ll arrange it. But try to remember, Na, I’m not the enemy here. I love you."

The words burned like acid, and Naomi hurled her pillow at Kieran’s head, a primal scream of rage issuing from her lips. "Go to hell!" she bellowed.

Kieran ducked instinctively, but the look on her face was one of deep injury. "You can hate me if you want, Naomi. But I’ll still love you," she said simply, picking up the pillow and tossing it back on the biobed. She exited the sickbay, but heard the pillow thump against the wall where she would have been standing seconds before.

___________

The holographic representation of Deanna Troi nodded thoughtfully, sizing up her patient. "Yes, Naomi, what you tell me here is confidential. Kieran isn’t allowed to see my treatment notes. She made that abundantly clear, that you don’t want her involved in this."

Naomi crossed her arms sullenly. "Fine. What do I have to do to get this over with and get on with my life?"

Deanna considered. "Why don’t you start by telling me what you’d like to get on with, exactly? From what Kieran has told me, your only real desire has been to go back to the hallucination you had."

Naomi snorted. "Hallucination? Is that what she’s calling it? Maybe you two geniuses think that's all it was, but it was real to me. And as for getting back to my life, I want to be allowed to go back on duty. I’m bored stiff. If I have to endure this shit-hole, at least let me work. Even prisoners are allowed to labor to pass the time," she complained angrily.

Deanna tilted her head. "You want to go back to work. I’ll see what I can do about that, if you’ll let me help you."

"I don’t need help, Counselor. There’s nothing wrong with me," she argued, her eyes dark and stormy.

"Kieran says you’re depressed and hostile, and that you’ve been verbally abusive to her. What’s that about?"

Naomi sighed. "I can’t stand to look at her," she admitted petulantly. "It hurts."

"What makes it painful?" Dee urged her.

"Everything. Nothing. She doesn’t remember any of it. It never happened for her. But I lived it all—21 years of experiences that no one else shared. And she and I shared—" Naomi’s face clouded uncontrollably and she went from the verge of tears to rage. "God damn it!" she shouted, leaping up and pacing, trying to get a handle on her emotions.

"Shared what?" Dee prodded. "What did you share with Kieran that she can’t remember?"

"What does it matter?" Naomi shouted. "It wasn’t REAL!"

"It was to you. And now you’re like a person who is displaced in time. That’s quite an adjustment, Naomi, to be thrown back 21 years. What do you want Kieran to remember that she can’t?"

Naomi threw herself back down in the chair, arms crossed, face contorting in despair. "That we were together," she muttered. "That I’m the one who helped her recover. I got her through it all—through losing B'Elanna and Katie, through losing her health, all of it."

Dee nodded. "So in your world, Kieran suffered great losses and you were supportive of her. You relied on each other."

Naomi’s eyes flashed hotly. "We didn’t just rely on each other, for God’s sake, we were married." As soon as the words came out, she slapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh shit," she muttered.

"Why is it so important to you that no one know that?" Dee asked.

"Because it’s absurd. In this world, I’m a kid, she’s a grown woman, and she has a wife and a baby. How do I explain that I’m dying inside over losing a relationship that she never had with me?"

Deanna smiled softly. "Those words sounded pretty good to me."

"Yeah? Well they sound mean spirited to me. In my world, B'Elanna and Katie had to die so Kieran and I could be together. How d’you think she’d like that?" she laughed hollowly.

"I don’t think she’d judge it, Naomi. I know Kieran very well, and she’s not the type to place value judgements on something that to you is painful and real. I also know that she loves you very much, and it’s difficult for her to see you miserable and unable to reach out to her."

"You think I should tell her all about my little fantasy world?" she was furious. "Right. How about if I leave out the part about how stupid, naïve little Naomi waited her whole life for the elusive Captain Thompson, never fell in love with anyone else because she was too busy being in love with someone she couldn’t have? How pathetic is that?"

Deanna chuckled. "It sounds like the sort of idealism a ten year old would have. Before you had these experiences with Kieran, your mind could only draw on your ten years and extrapolate from that. It makes sense that in an idealized world, you’d love one person your whole life and live happily ever after."

"Yeah, except there is no happily ever after. Voyager is stuck in the middle of nowhere, and the only person on this whole fucking ship close to my age is Icheb. I’m every bit as isolated in this world as I was before Kieran and I got together in the other one. Only in the other one, it was my own fault. This isn’t," she waved her hands wildly. "So pardon me all to hell if I’d rather just die."

"Have you thought about suicide, Naomi?" Deanna asked patiently.

"Only about every three seconds," she lashed out. "Depressurize the cargo bay, maybe. Beam myself into space. Overload a plasma conduit. Or maybe just eat Neelix’s leola root stew in massive quantities," she recited darkly.

Deanna laughed. "I don’t think the latter would work, though it might make you wish you could die."

"I already wish that," she said truthfully. "That’s why I want to go back to work. At least I could keep busy and not have to think about how shitty I feel."

"All right. I’ll talk to the Captain about sending you back to active duty. On one condition. You keep your appointments with me twice daily until further notice. We’re still working with the Restidians to see if there are some pharmacological modalities we could try to help you make the transition back to this reality. But in the meantime, I want to talk to you twice a day. Agreed?"

Naomi nodded. "If that’s the only way to go back to Engineering, then fine. Can I go now?"

"Yes. Come back this afternoon when you’re finished in Engineering. You should be able to report to B'Elanna an hour or so from now."

Naomi rose to leave. "You won’t tell Kieran any of this?"

"Not a word. I promise," Deanna assured her.

_______________

For two days, Naomi diligently attended sessions with Deanna Troi, faithfully did her assigned tasks in Engineering, and went home as expected to have dinner with her family. She spoke when spoken to, nothing more. She didn’t play with Geejay, didn’t ask Seven any questions about her lessons, and she didn’t volunteer any information about her sessions with Dee.

On the third day, she didn’t report for her session, and she didn’t arrive in Engineering at the prearranged time. B'Elanna checked with the computer, which reported that Naomi was in sickbay. B'Elanna assumed that the Ktarian must have relapsed, and thought nothing more of it, until she was hailed by Dee.

"Counselor Troi to Lieutenant Torres."

"This is B'Elanna. Go ahead," she offered, leaning against a workstation, juggling a spanner back and forth in her hands.

"B'Elanna, Naomi didn’t show up for her morning session. Would you please send her to see me?"

B'Elanna hefted the instrument, thinking. "She’s not here, Dee. She’s in sickbay."

"Stand by," Dee came back over the comm link. After several seconds, she reopened the channel. "The Doctor says Naomi is not in sickbay, but the computer thinks she is."

"Damn it!" B'Elanna swore. "Let me get the Captain involved. Torres out."

______________

Jamari had been hanging around the entrance to the western caverns of the Rainbow Caves, thinking about the people he had met several days before. He wished he still had the food he found in their packs. He was about to head for the main entrance to the tour, in hopes of luring more tourists away where he could obtain their food supplies, when Naomi Wildman came ambling up the path.

"Naomi!" he shouted happily. "I am so glad to see you! I heard you had been ill."

Naomi shrugged. "Yeah. But I’m fine now. In fact, maybe you can help me be better than fine," she mentioned.

Jamari was instantly intrigued. "What’s in the pack?" his mouth watered.

Naomi pulled it off and opened it up. "I have some sandwiches. Would you like one?"

His eyes grew wide and he nodded vigorously. "I’m starving," he admitted.

Naomi smiled and gave him two sandwiches and a container of fruit juice. "This should help," she said mildly.

Jamari snatched the provisions and gobbled them down in seconds. "Do you have more?" he asked desperately.

"If you help me, you can have everything in my pack. I want you to take me to the innermost section of the caverns, where no one can find me."

He hesitated. "But you became ill inside the caverns."

"I brought a protective breathing device. I will wear it until I’m deep enough in the passages that no one can find me. Then I will remove it."

"But Naomi, the last time you were in the caves, I couldn’t awaken you, and you didn’t wake up on your own. You’ll die if you go in there and remove your mask--you’ll starve to death. "

Naomi nodded. "That’s right."

"People on your ship—they allow each other to take their own lives?" he was appalled.

Naomi shrugged. "They don’t like it when it happens, but it’s my life."

He regarded her with amazement. "Your mothers—they were very upset about your illness when I met them."

Naomi gave him a quizzical look. "So?"

He hung his head. "How can you want to die when there are people who so love you?"

Naomi’s face darkened. "That’s not your concern," she snapped. "Are you going to take me or not?"

Jamari considered. He remembered the auburn haired Captain, the way she had gentled her voice when she asked for his help, the urgency of her request for assistance. She had treated him as if he mattered. But he needed food today, and Teseque needed food worse than he did. What choice did he have? He nodded slowly. "I’ll take you, but only if you have enough food in that pack for my sister and I."

Naomi pulled the backpack open to reveal packages of food that would keep him eating for several days. "That should cover it."

His eyes widened. It was a lot of food. "Let’s go then," he decided.

_____________

The hike to the inner corridors of the caves was strenuous, and Naomi’s reserves were depleted after being so depressed. She had to rest several times.

"Is your breathing apparatus malfunctioning?" Jamari demanded impatiently. "It’s getting late, and I still have to make the return trip."

"I’m sorry," Naomi replied angrily. "I’m trying to keep up."

"What sort of Geebach are you, anyway? Who would be foolish enough to abandon a family that loves them?"

"It’s not about my family," Naomi argued. "It’s about my future. Or lack thereof, specifically. You wouldn’t understand."

"No, you’re right, I don’t. Your mother was so concerned for you. She was even kind to me, and I am Creoheem," he said bitterly. "I wish my mother were still alive," he added softly as they trudged through the darkness.

"My mother is dead, too," Naomi offered. "That woman you met, she’s not my mother…she just adopted me."

Jamari stopped in his tracks. "That woman—Captain Janeway—she is raising you even though she never bore you?" he was shocked.

"Yeah. So?" Naomi was breathing heavily, straining to make the distance.

"That is such an altruistic act," he said with awe. "There is no biological advantage to that act."

Naomi shrugged. "I guess not. I think she sort of had to do it, though. She’s the Captain."

Jamari let out a short bark of laughter. "From what I observed, she doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to do. She seemed very strong willed."

"That’s Kathryn," Naomi agreed. Her heart tugged just a little as she thought about how sad her death would make the Captain.

Jamari checked his reference points and stopped. "This is it. You’re in the bowels of the caverns here. Without me to find you, it would take your crew several days to locate you in here. You can remove your mask if you wish."

Naomi handed him the backpack. "If you’re smart, you’ll contact my ship in four or five days, after I’m dead. They’ll give you a lot of food to help find my body. Humans are weird about recovering the remains of their dead."

Jamari nodded appreciatively. "That is kind of you to tell me. And thank you for the provisions. Now I must go. Teseque will wonder what’s become of me."

Naomi stuck out her hand. "Good-bye, Jamari."

He took it briefly. "Good-bye, Naomi."

She watched him as he ran back down the cavern path, winding his way back toward the mouth of the cave. She hoped he wouldn’t rush through the more treacherous terrain and end up at the bottom of a cliff. She thought momentarily about what she was going to do, how it would effect the people who loved her, and hesitated. Kathryn and Seven really hadn’t done anything to her that she could complain of. But when Naomi thought of Kieran, the pain was too overwhelming, and she knew she could not face the Counselor on a daily basis and stay sane. The hurt was too deep, and the hopelessness too burdensome. She sighed, stretched out on the ground with her back resting against a large boulder, and took a PADD out of her jacket. She recorded a brief message, saying only "I know none of you will understand why I did this. Counselor Troi can explain it to you. I grant her permission to waive the doctor-patient confidentiality rules, so she can fill you in. I’m sorry if my death hurts you, but I can’t stand to live like this any longer. K-Mom, Borg-Mom, I love you both. Please remember that." She terminated the data recorder link, removed her oxygen mask, and breathed deeply, watching the glowing green cerebrosporum shimmering in the darkness.

Naomi expected that her exposure to the cerebrosporum would thrust her back into the hallucination she had been experiencing just prior to waking up. Instead, she found herself further back chronologically in the same hallucination, but just before Voyager had arrived back on Earth to transfer Noah Lessing, which meant she was not yet lovers with Kieran Thompson. Her mind could not register disappointment, however, because she thought that what she was experiencing was completely real.

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

One afternoon, Kieran came home from the office to find a message waiting for her. She played the recording, and Naomi’s face appeared on her workstation screen.

"Hi KT!" she smiled and bubbled at the scanner. "Guess what! Noah Lessing has been offered command of his own ship, and Voyager is coming to Earth to transfer him. While we’re there, Voyager is slated to undergo a heavy D-check. Hope you’re up to a good long visit. K-Mom and Borg-Mom want to say something," she turned away, and waved them over. The two women beamed at the scanner, arms around each other.

"Kato, we can’t wait to see you!" Kathryn enthused. "We should be in orbit in two days time. Clear your calendar, Captain, because my mother is mad as hell that you haven’t been to visit her, and she is demanding that we bring you with us."

Kieran laughed out loud at the warning, hugging herself. God I’ve missed them all, she realized. Now that’s a sight. Three beautiful women, all smiles and happy thoughts, anxious to see me. I’m lucky to have such friends.

"Kieran," Seven intoned, "resistance is futile. Gretchen insists upon your attendance. She has authorized me to assimilate you, if necessary," Seven extended her arm and deployed her assimilation tubules. "Pack your bags."

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

Captain Kieran Thompson sat at her workstation in her office at Starfleet Command, revising the crew manifest for her new, as yet unnamed, ship. She had made most of the decisions regarding the key positions on the ship, but the Chief Engineer’s post was still vacant. She didn’t know if it was a sentimental misgiving about replacing B'Elanna’s job, or exactly what made her reluctant to fill the position, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. There were several perfectly qualified applicants, but she had yet to give any of them serious consideration.

Admit it, KT. You were hoping Naomi would apply, and she hasn’t. You could ask her, but more than likely, that ship has sailed, bucko. It needed to, anyway, for her sake. But how could she pass up a Supremacy Class vessel? Everyone else in the Fleet who is even remotely qualified applied.

"Afternoon, Captain," a familiar voice called out as Naomi stuck her head in the door. "Are you taking visitors?"

"Na!" Kieran jumped out of her seat and in two long strides, had gathered the grinning Ktarian in her arms. "Oh, God, it’s good to see you! When did you get in?"

Naomi hugged her with all her strength. "Just now. K-Mom and Borg-Mom are dropping our stuff off at the InterGalactic Suites."

Kieran whistled. "Starfleet is putting you up there? Fancy!" she hugged her back, not ready to let her go just yet.

"No. We decided to treat ourselves. Starfleet will only put us up in the Officer’s Quad. We’re staying at the Suites until we leave for Gran’s house. You are going with us, aren’t you?"

Kieran relaxed her hold on the younger woman, stepping back to look her over, but resting her hands on the Ktarian’s slight hips. "Wouldn’t miss it, sweetie. I’m on your Grandmother’s shit list already, so why make it worse?" She smiled fondly, kissing Naomi’s forehead. "You look wonderful, Na. If you get any prettier, you’re going to need a body guard."

"I was about to tell you the same thing," she smiled warmly. "You look completely back to normal, Kieran—well, except for your hair. But I like it short like this," she touched the wisps at the Captain’s temples. "The silver is very becoming."

Kieran chuckled. "Nice way of saying I’m getting old, Miss Missy. Have you had lunch?"

Naomi stepped out of her embrace and planted her hands on her hips. "What do you think I came here for? If you’re not good for a free meal, hell, I’m going back to Voyager," she teased.

Kieran took her hand. "Let’s see what we can scare up," she offered, leading her friend out of her office.

They stopped no fewer than eight times so that Kieran could introduce Naomi to the brass that occupied her section of the building, and Naomi graciously made acquaintance with every Admiral that wandered through the area.

"Jeez," she commented as they exited the office complex, "do you know every dinosaur in the fleet?"

Kieran shrugged. "Only the ones I’ve run into. I report to Admiral Picard, but I haven’t seen him in months. He sends me a brief message occasionally, and that’s about it. He’s been busy working with Intelligence to track down the culprits that destroyed the Sagan. He doesn’t have time for much else."

Naomi studied Kieran’s expression, wondering if the investigation was a sore issue with Kieran, but she detected no emotional undercurrent. "Don’t tell me you’re taking me to the cafeteria," Naomi balked as they approached the building.

Kieran stopped, because that was exactly what she was about to do. "No, of course not. I—uh—how about the Warp Zone? Isn’t that your favorite?"

Naomi smiled. "Are we dressed for it?" she asked, remembering the restaurant as rather formal.

"For lunch, yes. For dinner we’d need more elegant attire. Does that sound good?"

"Absolutely. I love their spinach lasagna. And they have the best wine list in San Francisco."

Kieran grinned. "And the best dessert tray. They have a tuxedo mousse cake to die for." She held out her arm, which Naomi took, smiling up at her. "Warp Zone it is. Should we invite your mothers?"

Naomi shook her head. "If I know them, they’re already naked and rolling around in bed at the hotel," she laughed. "This trip has been hectic, and they’ve had zero time alone."

"Gotta give ‘em credit, those two. Nothing slows them down," Kieran chuckled as they walked along. It was a perfect summer day in the city, moderately warm and partly cloudy, and the sky was so blue it made Kieran feel expansive. She breathed in the clean, fresh air appreciatively. "How about you, Na? Your letters talked about everything under the sun except your love life," she chastised her friend.

Naomi flushed slightly. "Nothing of interest to report on that front," she demurred.

Kieran eyed her skeptically. "I find that hard to believe, Wildwoman."

Naomi laughed in her lilting fashion, smiling up at the taller Captain. "Why is that hard to believe? K-Mom keeps me awfully damned busy," she contended, squeezing Kieran’s arm as they walked.

"Like there isn’t a line a mile long outside your quarters?" Kieran teased. "You’re bright and funny and beautiful. Don’t tell me you don’t get asked out every day."

Naomi smirked. "Yeah, I do. And sometimes, I accept," she admitted.

"We’ve been friends since you were a kid, Na. Why don’t you ever tell me anything personal about yourself?" she demanded, still smiling at her companion.

She shrugged in reply as they crossed the street in the direction of the restaurant. "Nothing significant to report, Captain. If there were something worth telling you about, I would," she promised.

Kieran looked skyward, exasperated. "Don’t wait until you’re engaged to mention you’re dating," she instructed. "I’d like to have ample warning."

Warning? That’s an odd choice of words, KT, Naomi thought to herself. "Do you want a list?" Kieran looked puzzled. "A list of everyone I’ve dated in the past year?" Naomi clarified playfully.

Kieran chuckled. "I dunno—how long is the list?"

Naomi smacked her arm playfully. "Not THAT long, smart ass."

They made their way into the Warp Zone, which was relatively empty for two o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon. The maitre de seated them and brought them water and menus. Naomi didn’t even open hers. Kieran raised an eyebrow.

"I know what I want," she explained.

"Apparently, you usually do," Kieran commented. "So let’s hear the list."

Naomi tossed her hair back over her shoulders, laughing. "You just love to gossip, don’t you? God, you’re worse than B'Elanna ever was."

Kieran tried not to flinch at the mention of her deceased wife. "I learned a few things from her, I suppose. Now quit stalling. Out with it."

Naomi studied her water goblet, swirling the liquid inside the crystal and listening to the ice cubes tinkle as they struck the sides. "Well, let’s see. I had dinner with Jackson Freeman a few months ago, and we went out three or four times. He’s a terrible kisser, and I stopped seeing him," she confided.

Kieran smiled broadly at the description. "Really? Jack always seemed like he’d be pretty smooth."

Naomi snorted. "Hardly. He walks around with a perpetual hard-on and is constantly looking for some place to stick it. I made it obvious I wasn’t his next receptacle," she snickered.

The waiter walked up just then, and Kieran hoped he hadn’t overheard. They ordered and requested a bottle of wine. Kieran sipped at hers, nodding approval. "Not bad. What do you think?"

Naomi nodded enthusiastically. "Nice. So where was I? Oh yeah. Rachel McVicker."

Kieran’s face lit up. "Rachel? I haven’t seen her in a long time. How is she?"

Naomi blushed. "Gorgeous as ever. She never seems to change. I wonder if she has Borg nanoprobes, sometimes, she stays so youthful."

"Ah," Kieran sounded knowing, "sounds like maybe that relationship might have potential," she grinned, her eyes twinkling. "You could do a whole lot worse."

Naomi sighed. "I suppose. Rachel is warm and kind and K-Mom is all for it, but—"

"But what?" Kieran gripped her wine glass a little too firmly.

"I can’t put my finger on it, KT. She says all the right things, we have a good time together, but I’m just not in love with her. And she is in love with me, or at least she says she is. She’s just too serious. I don’t know, maybe it’s a lack of chemistry—maybe I’m too particular. It just doesn’t feel—right."

Kieran finished her wine and poured another round for them. "I find that hard to imagine. Rachel is pretty special."

"Well, maybe you should go out with her," Naomi offered, chuckling.

"Naw," Kieran supplied, "not my type."

Their food arrived and they fell silent for several minutes. Finally Kieran got to the crux of what was on her mind. "Na," Kieran toyed with her pasta, "I was wondering—"

Naomi’s heart skipped a beat. "Yes?"

"Well, I mean, I don’t want to push you, but—" Kieran hesitated.

"What, KT?" she put her fork down, laying her hand on top of the larger hand of the Captain. "You can say anything to me."

"You know, every Chief Engineer in the fleet applied for the Chief Engineer’s position on my new ship, with one notable exception," she looked plaintively at the strawberry blonde woman across from her. "Aren’t you even interested in a Supremacy Class ship?"

Naomi tried to hide her disappointment. Is that all you want from me? Someone to run your Engine Room? "I—of course, I’d be challenged by a whole new class, but—I don’t know why I didn’t apply," she dissembled. "I’m not unhappy on Voyager," she added lamely.

Kieran stiffened defensively. "Is it me? Are you uncomfortable serving under me? I’m a good boss, Na," she defended herself.

Naomi squeezed her hand. "I know that. You were K-Mom’s XO long enough for me to know what your command style is like. But I think things might be—awkward—don’t you?" Naomi tiptoed around the delicate issue. Don’t you think it’d be weird for me to report to someone I’m in love with, who doesn’t know I’m alive?

Kieran speared a forkful of pasta, not at all pleased with that assessment. "I don’t see why it would be any more awkward to have an old friend as your Captain when you’ve worked for your mother. That would be awkward, if you ask me. Don’t you get a lot of resentment from the crew?"

Naomi finished her meal, wiping her mouth on a linen napkin. "You mean am I subject to rumors about nepotism? Not really," she argued. "K-Mom treats me like anyone else on her crew. She’s even dressed me down in front of other officers. If anything, she’s harder on me because I’m her daughter. But I can take it."

"Well, I guess if you’re happy where you’re at, I can understand why you didn’t apply," Kieran sounded hurt. "I just thought, after everything we’ve been through together—I don’t know," she trailed off. "Want to split a dessert?"

Naomi studied her longtime friend. "KT, is everything okay?"

Kieran gazed into the most lovely hazel eyes she could imagine, her chest aching. "Sure. Everything’s fine," she lied.

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

Kieran loved the Janeway family’s home in Indiana, and she adored Kathryn’s mother, Gretchen, even more. She arranged to work from long distance so she could accompany her friends to the farm. It was the dead of summer, and humid as a rainforest when they arrived. Naomi and Kieran immediately excused themselves to go for a swim in the old mill pond as soon as reacquaintances were made, while Kathryn and Seven settled into the kitchen with Gretchen to catch up on the latest news.

Without any hesitancy, the two women ran for the pond, stripped naked and dove into the cooling, crystal clear water, whooping from the chill of it. An underground cold spring fed into it, and the shock to their overheated skin made them yelp. Once they had adjusted, Kieran came up on her back, floating lazily and watching the clouds, keeping her eyes carefully away from the naked woman beside her.

Naomi couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Kieran naked, but was struck by two things: her uncharacteristic lack of a tan, and how good Kieran’s body looked after sustaining such severe burns in the attack of the Sagan.

"You’re staring at me," Kieran scolded her, suddenly self-conscious. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing’s wrong, KT. It’s just—"

"What? Do I look ancient to you?" she voiced her sharpest fear.

"Not at all," Naomi swallowed her reaction to just how good the older woman looked. "I was actually marveling at how flawless your skin is. Weren’t you burned all over your shoulders and arms?"

"Oh, that," Kieran let out a breath. "Yeah, most of my body above the thighs. But the dermal regenerative techniques for burn victims are exceptionally effective," she walked toward shore so she could lift herself out of the water. "See? My worst burns were here to here," she illustrated on her chest and breasts with complete clinical detachment, "and the only indication is this slight discoloration." She glanced up to find Naomi studying her intently. The look on the younger woman’s face sent a chill through Kieran’s body, and it wasn’t from the temperature of the water. "Hey, I’ll show you something that’ll really blow your plasma manifold," she offered, grinning mischievously, trying to divert her thoughts from how appealing Naomi looked.

Naomi grinned back and nodded eagerly, so Kieran proceeded. "Thanks to the Borg, and to artificial intelligence pioneers like Noonian Singh and Terrence Epstein, I can still see with both eyes. Check this out." Kieran gingerly reached above her right eye and slid her fingernail beneath a small, invisible slit, and with a mechanical sound of "snick", she opened an unobtrusive panel that revealed the wiring and adjustment interface to her optical implant.

Naomi watched in fascination as a green light blinked inside Kieran’s cybernetic implant, and two tiny fiber optic leads glowed with electrical impulses. She drew closer then, only inches from Kieran’s face to get a better look at the exposed interface. "It’s wonderful," she breathed in admiration. "I’d kill to see a schematic of this. Talk about micro-engineering. This kind of circuitry used to require the space of a whole starship a few decades ago." She tentatively touched the tiny access panel, awed by it. "I can see with my own two eyes this is mechanical, not organic, and yet it feels like living tissue," she murmured, closing the door and watching it disappear into Kieran’s brow. "And now I can’t even tell where it is!" she got excited. "Now that’s fancy technology," she sounded almost reverent.

Kieran was equally breathless, but for an entirely different reason. Naomi’s nearness, the heat of her body radiating through the water, made the Captain’s imagination run amok. Kieran mentally shook herself and in her standard cool reserve, she smiled and said sarcastically "So glad you approve. I’ll get you the schematic."

Naomi heard something odd in Kieran’s voice; a slight uncertainty, perhaps, she thought, or an edge of anxiety. She searched Kieran’s deep brown eyes, but the calm, playful demeanor was back as quickly as it left.

"KT," she said softly. "How are you really?"

Kieran gazed into the most piercing hazel eyes she had ever seen, eyes filled with affection and concern. She touched Naomi’s cheek. "I’m doing better every day. It’s not easy, and I’m still up and down on the emotional scale, but I’m holding my own. Thanks for asking, sweetie."

"You know if there’s anything you need, I’m here," she promised, sliding her arms around the taller woman’s neck.

Kieran buried her face in Naomi’s long, loose hair, breathing the fragrance of it and committing it to memory. She tried to block out the sensory impact of having a beautiful, naked woman pressed against her own yearning flesh. She summoned her control before she replied, willing her voice to be steady. "Thank you. I know you’d do anything I asked, Na."

"Yes, and I know you’d never ask anything of anyone, least of all me. You’re fanatically stubborn that way," she noted accurately. "Which leaves me guessing at what you might need."

Kieran knew Naomi’s proximity was dangerous and she pushed the Ktarian’s shoulders back to put some distance between them. "Right now," she tried to sound certain, "all I need is a tan, and a good long talk with my one and only Wildwoman."

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

"Why haven’t you tried to talk to her, Kathryn?" Gretchen Janeway demanded of her eldest daughter, who always felt about twelve whenever Gretchen used that reprimanding tone.

"I haven’t had two seconds alone with her, Mother," Kathryn defended herself. "Naomi is always with her. And besides, what would I say?"

"Oh, I don’t know," Gretchen said with irritation. "How about ‘have you noticed my daughter is in love with you, and what the hell do you intend to do about it’?"

Seven hid her smile behind a cookie. Gretchen embodied all of Kathryn’s bluntness, but with even more impatience where her granddaughters were concerned.

"Mother," Kathryn sounded exasperated. "That’s a little direct, don’t you think?" Kathryn stirred her coffee thoughtfully. "I just don’t get it. Kieran loves Naomi. I can see it in her manner, hear it in her voice—it’s palpable when she looks at her. What in God’s name is keeping her from telling Naomi?"

"That’s what you need to ask her," Gretchen smacked the table. "In those exact words."

Kathryn bit into her cookie. "I’ll try to get her away from the house where we can talk, Mom. I promise."

Gretchen smiled. "Too bad you’re the same rank. You could order her to the barn," she chuckled.

"Don’t you mean the wood shed?" Seven smarted, making them both laugh.

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

All afternoon, the pair swam and sunned themselves, trading stories about their lives since they’d parted company over a year before. Kieran had to school herself rigidly to keep her eyes away from the more interesting aspects of Naomi’s anatomy, and more than once she caught herself thinking about kissing what must have been the most sultry lips she had ever seen. Naomi seemed oblivious to Kieran’s consternation, which only fueled the Captain’s desire to initiate something. If not for her unwavering self-discipline, Kieran would have surely made a move on the stunning Lieutenant.

Naomi rambled on about Voyager’s missions, her duties on each, the day to day news about old friends and acquaintances. Kieran listened half-heartedly, sometimes processing the information, other times merely daydreaming about what lay beneath the beach towel wrapped around the fair-skinned Ktarian. She propped her head up on one hand, stretching lazily on her own towel, not really aware of her own nakedness until Naomi touched her.

"KT, you’re getting pink," she pressed a fingertip to Kieran’s chest. "We’d better get some sun screen, or clothes," she added.

Kieran glanced at herself. "I guess the regenerated tissue is more sensitive than my old skin," she noted in dismay. "I used to tan so easily. Now I look like a corpse."

Naomi frowned. "You look wonderful," she corrected the self-deprecating Captain. "You looked so bad after the attack, KT, you should be really grateful to have come through it without any disfigurement."

Kieran nodded. "I know. I should be thrilled. I forget, sometimes, it could have been a lot worse. Thanks for reminding me."

"Yeah—you could have been dead," Naomi drove the point home.

Kieran took Naomi’s hand in her own. "For awhile, there, I wanted to be dead," she replied quietly. "Everything just seemed so bleak. But you helped me start to hope again, hope that maybe there was something left in this world for me. I never really told you how much I appreciate all you did for me."

Naomi gazed at her with such intense longing, it took Kieran’s breath away. "I couldn’t stand to lose you, KT. It was hard enough to lose Katie and B'Elanna. But you? I can’t even think about what that would have done to us all."

Kieran wanted so much to kiss her, but her courage failed her. All she could say was "Well, you’re not getting rid of me that easily."

*******

That night at dinner, Gretchen decided to grill Kieran about her life. She felt she could take a few liberties, considering she had the goods on Kieran. Her opening salvo consisted of "Kieran Thompson, I’ve got a bone to pick with you."

"You do?" Kieran asked meekly.

"You’ve been on Earth almost two years, and you couldn’t take an afternoon to come and see me?" she scolded harshly.

"Oh, Mrs. Janeway, I’m sorry," Kieran said sincerely. "I kept meaning to. But I was just in such a bad frame of mind, I thought I’d be lousy company."

"You’re not company, young lady. You’re family. But I understand. You’ve had a lot on your plate for the last few months. "

Kathryn shot a warning look at her mother.

Kieran only smiled faintly. "Yes, but I’m getting a handle on it all."

"You seem well. From what Kathryn and Seven have told me, you had a pretty close call."

"Yes Ma’am, I surely did. But I’m fit as a fiddle now." She went on to describe her injuries and the treatments she’d been through. Gretchen watched the way Naomi’s face softened with pure devotion every time Kieran spoke. She noted that the younger woman’s eyes brightened when Kieran laughed, dulled when anyone else talked, and widened with interest when Kieran explained the details of her rehabilitation.

"I want you to know how sorry I am about B'Elanna and Katie. I loved them both. You must miss them terribly."

"Yes Ma’am," Kieran confirmed. "I loved them both beyond words."

Gretchen got to the point. "Well, on the positive side, and there always is one, you’re still young. Plenty of time to find another partner, even have a second family if you want to. You’ve got 40, maybe 50 years to give someone," she reached for the mashed potatoes. "So are you seeing anyone special?"

Kieran chuckled uncomfortably. "Not really, Mrs. J. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not looking to become a nun or anything, and I’ve had a few dates since B'Elanna died. But settling down again isn’t really an option."

Naomi looked perfectly miserable at that statement, but hid her face, pretending to be interested in a second helping of fried green tomatoes.

"Whyever not?" Gretchen asked, shocked at Kieran’s response.

Kieran shrugged. "My experience so far is that once I start to get intimate with a woman, the second she finds out I’m widowed, and lost a child too, she sees me as damaged goods. Nothing puts a damper on romance faster than unveiling all your ugly emotional baggage. So I keep things—superficial," Kieran elaborated for the probing elder Janeway. She tried to sound above it all. "I amuse myself with impressionable cadets and leave it at that."

Now Naomi was shocked, and feeling hurt. Kieran had never mentioned the casual affairs she now alluded to, and had said nothing about ‘amusing’ herself with anyone. Exactly when and how had she ‘started to get intimate’ with anyone? And it was one thing for Kieran to confide any indiscretions to Naomi, quite another to openly admit them in front of her mothers and grandmother.

"Besides," Kieran continued, oblivious to the pain in Naomi’s face, "it would take a fool of major proportions to want me," she tried to make light of the topic.

Naomi pushed her chair back abruptly. "I’m finished. When everyone is done, call me in Gran. I’ll clear the table."

Gretchen reached up and took her granddaughter’s hand. "Okay, honey. Run along," she gave the young woman an easy out. Naomi left the kitchen in a hurry, but Kieran didn’t notice. Gretchen fixed Kieran with a steely glare. "You know, ordinarily I’d be inclined to agree with you on that count. Only a fool would want to be with you. But Naomi’s no fool," Gretchen’s voice was hard and driving.

Kieran looked up, thinking she had heard wrong. "Naomi? What about her?"

Gretchen crossed her arms across her ample bosom. "My granddaughter is in love with you, although it defies logical explanation. And you’re in love with her, only you’re too proud or daft or God knows what to admit it. You’d be damned lucky to have a partner like Naomi. Now if you have the sense God gave mushrooms, you’ll go to the apple orchard and tell her you love her, before she comes to her senses."

Kieran glanced helplessly around the table, finding Kathryn and Seven eyeing her with an equal measure of irritation. "Mrs. Janeway, Kathryn and Seven and I raised Naomi. We all want much better things for her."

"Naomi doesn’t want better, young lady," she snapped sternly. "She wants you."

Kieran shook her head. "Kathryn would phaser me dead if I told Naomi how I feel," she argued.

Kathryn looked at her friend in surprise. "Kieran Thompson," her voice was like a whip, "what in the world would make you say that? I love you, and I love Naomi. Nothing would make me happier than seeing you both finally happy. Naomi’s a grown woman. She’s loved you almost as long as she’s been alive. I’d bless any relationship that makes her happy. Seven and I both would."

Kieran’s mouth fairly fell. "You would?"

Seven nodded affirmatively.

"But I’m so much older—"

Gretchen’s jaw was set. "Naomi is older than those cadets you’ve been ‘amusing yourself’ with. The age difference between her and you isn’t much more than Kathryn and Seven."

Kieran was flabbergasted. "My God, I can’t believe all this time, I’ve kept my mouth shut thinking if I spoke up, it would cause trouble with our friendship," she said to Kathryn and Seven. She stood up from the table slowly, everyone watching her expectantly. "The apple orchard?"

"Big tree by the cistern. She always climbs up there when she’s upset."

Kieran practically knocked her chair over getting out of the screen door.

She ran down the dirt path past the vegetable garden, round the old barn and into the orchard. The scent of ripening apples wafted on the night breeze and the soil beneath her feet smelled of dampness. It was dark, but there was enough light from the moon to reflect on Naomi’s white cotton camp shirt. Kieran spotted her up in the thorny branches.

"Naomi?" she said hesitantly. "Please come down from there," she called up to the quietly sobbing silhouette. "I need to talk to you."

Naomi sniffed. "I think I’ve heard enough from you for one night, KT. My God, could you have been any more crass? In front of Gran?" she bit her words off with precision. "Did you come to fill me in on the sordid details of all your sexual conquests?"

"It’s not like that, Naomi," Kieran pleaded. "Come down and let me explain."

Naomi shifted her weight, making the limbs shudder. "No," she replied tersely.

Kieran felt her frustration building. "You told me today if I ever needed anything, you’d be there for me. Well I need you to come down here." She held her breath as the moments ticked away. Her voice softened audibly as she tried again. "Please, Na. I came to tell you—I love you. I have for a long time. And I need you with me."

Nothing but silence.

"Damn it, Naomi, how can I ask you to marry me if you won’t come down here?" she stomped her foot in frustration.

There was a slight rustle in the branches. Then finally, Naomi replied "I’ll believe that when I see a Justice of the Peace waiting with you." She crossed her arms defiantly, disbelieving.

"All right. When I come back, I’ll have one," Kieran declared. She ran back to the house as fast as her legs would carry her. "Mrs. Janeway!" she hollered as she hit the door. "I—need—a—Justice of—the Peace," she panted, leaning down to catch her breath. "Or Naomi won’t come down."

Gretchen Janeway threw her head back and laughed. "That’s my granddaughter!" she whooped with admiration. She fixed Kieran with a discerning eye. "Willard Carson is the legal authority in Monroe County. I’ll have him here in 20 minutes. He owes me a favor."

Kieran’s heart was thundering. "Okay," she agreed.

Kathryn and Seven, overhearing the commotion, joined the two women in the living room. "You look positively green, Kato," Kathryn goaded her. "Cold feet?"

Kieran drew a shuddering breath. "Not likely. When Willard Carson gets here, I doubt Naomi will go through with this. She’s just trying to test me."

Seven smirked. "She is not testing you. You had better figure out what you’re going to do about a wedding ring."

"Do you have a replicator?" she asked Gretchen hopefully.

Gretchen Janeway chuckled. "I’ve got something better. Been planning to give it to Naomi for years, and now I know why I didn’t," she explained, tickled with her foresight. She climbed the stairs and came back down momentarily, extending her hand. "This was my wedding ring," she explained. "Edward and I bought it in Indianapolis more years ago than I can count. You and Naomi can pick out what you want when you get back to San Francisco, but for now, this will do. I had it sized for her last year," she deposited the dainty gold band in Kieran’s palm.

Kieran swallowed hard. "Thank you," she said sincerely, kissing Gretchen’s cheek. "Will you bring Willard out to the orchard when he arrives?" The three women nodded. "Great. I’m going to go clean up and put on a uniform."

"Replicate a set of dress whites, Kato," Kathryn recommended. "Seven and I will find something appropriate for Naomi."

Kieran smiled gratefully. "Thanks. If she doesn’t really want to go through with this, then what?"

Kathryn shrugged. "Then she’ll feel like a damned fool for putting us through this, I guess," she grinned. "Go on, get ready."

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

Kieran Thompson strode purposefully through the darkness, spying Naomi’s white blouse reflecting the moonlight. She gazed up at her, perched in the branches. "Na? The JP is on his way. Aren’t you going to come down and change? Kat and Seven have your dress ready for you."

Naomi peeked through the limbs, catching a glimpse of white. "What are you wearing?"

"My dress whites, honey. Is that okay? I want you to be happy with the pictures."

Naomi was flabbergasted. "You’re serious? You’re really asking me to marry you?"

Kieran grinned. "Would I be dressed like this if I weren’t? Oh, here he comes. You’d better get down."

Naomi thought it was all a joke, but watched expectantly.

Kathryn and Seven arrived just ahead of Gretchen Janeway. Gretchen escorted a short, plump man, who clearly thought the sun rose and set at Gretchen’s feet. "Willard Carson, this is my future granddaughter-in-law, Kieran Thompson. Her fiancée is up that tree."

Willard smiled affably and shook Kieran’s hand. "Captain, nice to meet you. But—uh—shouldn’t the other party be down here?" he glanced up the tree.

"Naomi Wildman," Seven of Nine’s tone was stern. "Get your behind down here this instant."

Naomi slithered down the trunk, still stunned that Kieran had actually taken her at her word. She grinned sheepishly at her family.

Kieran smiled at her, taking both her hands. "Well, Na? Do you want to change clothes or get married in your cut-offs?" she teased.

"You’re serious," she stated, shaking her head. "I guess I’d better change. Borg-Mom, will you help me?"

"Of course," Seven agreed, putting an arm around her daughter. "Shall we do this ceremony indoors, or out?"

Kieran piped up. "Wherever Naomi wants. If she says the driveway, that’s where we’ll do it. If she wants the barn, that’s where."

Kathryn slapped her forehead. "Phoebe!" she said loudly. "Damn, I have to contact her. She’ll kill us if she isn’t here for this."

Willard glanced around anxiously. "Ladies, how long is this going to take?"

Gretchen took his arm. "Oh, now, don’t you fret, Willard. Come on up to the house and have a slice of blackberry pie and some coffee while these hens get themselves ready," she soothed his concerns, leading him back to the house.

Kieran and Kathryn brought up the rear, walking arm in arm. "I’m going to be your mother-in-law, Kato," she grinned wickedly.

Kieran groaned. "Try to defy the stereotypes, Kat," she shot back. "I know it will be difficult."

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

The wedding was held half an hour later, complete with Aunt Phoebe in attendance. Naomi was radiant in the hastily replicated wedding dress, and simply glowed with happiness. Kieran tugged her aside just before they exchanged their vows, into the privacy of the den.

"What’s wrong, KT?" Naomi’s heart clutched in her chest.

Kieran gazed down at her tenderly. "Nothing is wrong. I just didn’t want the first time I kiss you to be at our wedding, in front of everyone," she explained, dropping her face to capture Naomi’s lips. Naomi eased her arms around Kieran’s neck, pressing her lips gently in response. When they parted, Kieran held her, cradling her head against a broad chest. "I love you, Na. Are you really ready for this?" she whispered.

Naomi laughed softly. "I’ve loved you forever. I’ve been ready almost that long."

"After the wedding, what do you want to do? We can stay here or go back to Starfleet, or we could go to Indianapolis and get a room—whatever you think is best."

"Already worked that out," Naomi kissed her again. "Aunt Phoebe is giving us her house for the next couple of days. She’s leaving for Paris in the morning, anyway. She’ll stay at Gran’s tonight."

Kieran grinned, kissing Naomi’s forehead. "Nice planning."

"Hey, you two," Gretchen Janeway stuck her silvery head around the corner. "Get in here. Don’t make me get the shotgun."

Everyone laughed at her as the couple took their place in front of the hearth. "Dearly beloved," Willard began.

____________

Security had determined that Naomi was most likely back in the Rainbow Caves. Kieran denounced their analysis as stating the obvious, and had impatiently demanded to be allowed to transport to Restid Three the instant Naomi was determined to be missing, but Captain Janeway insisted they wait until they had better information. Jamari had been arrested and taken into custody for questioning, but he had been tight-lipped about Naomi Wildman’s whereabouts. He didn’t like Tuvok, and he offered no explanation as to what had become of Naomi Wildman.

Tuvok reported back to the Captain. "The boy is not cooperating," he informed his CO. "However, I am afraid that if we say as much to the Sergeant Regent, Jamari’s life could be in danger. I have a suggestion," he added.

Janeway nodded. "What is it?"

"You should interrogate him. He seemed, in our prior encounter, to respond to you. I can establish no repore with him."

"All right," Janeway agreed. "I’ll see what I can get out of him."

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

Naomi and Kieran Wildman strolled along the old mill road, still dressed for their wedding, holding hands and talking. The moon was ¾ full overhead, and lit the path to Phoebe’s house adequately.

"Did you really bed a bunch of cadets?" Naomi asked, not certain she wanted to hear the answer.

Kieran frowned. "I dated two women," she admitted. "One was a professor at the Academy, and the other was a graduate student. No cadets." She hesitated thoughtfully, then explained "Deanna thinks it was part of getting over B'Elanna, that it was necessary. I don’t know about necessary, per se, but in both cases it seemed—like the thing to do."

"Why didn’t you tell me before?" Naomi squeezed Kieran’s hand.

Kieran shrugged. "Honestly? I thought you’d be hurt because it wasn’t you." Kieran pulled Naomi closer and wrapped an arm around her slender shoulders. "Are you?" she asked softly, worried.

Naomi took two deep breaths before replying. "I wish it had been me, but maybe if it had been, we wouldn’t be together now," she reasoned.

Kieran leaned her head to one side, resting it on top of Naomi’s as they ambled along. "I couldn’t have had a casual fling with you. That’s all those women were. I know that sounds callous—"

"No," Naomi defended her. "If they understood the terms, then who’s to say? I mean, I knew I didn’t love Rachel, but I kept seeing her anyway, even though in a peculiar sort of way, I felt like I was being unfaithful to you."

Kieran laughed. "I felt that too—like Jamie and Eilish were just diversions from the real subject, which was you. I just wasn’t ready at that point."

They walked up the tree-lined lane that led to Phoebe’s farmhouse. "She left the lamps burning," Naomi commented. Then more quietly, "You knew you wanted to be with me, even when you were seeing them?"

Kieran nodded. "Deep down, yeah, I knew. I wasn’t admitting it to myself, but when you would contact me on subspace, that was the best part of my week. Then I started missing you something fierce, and I knew I was in trouble if two women weren’t enough to distract me from what I was feeling for you," she recounted. "How could I not fall in love with you? You were so amazing when I was laid up, so patient and caring. I was too torn up over B'Elanna and Katie to realize what a sacrifice you had made to take care of me, Na. But after you left, the magnitude of it started to sink in. You had seen me at my lowest point, and still seemed to love me."

"Why didn’t you say anything, KT? Don’t you know how much I’ve wanted to hear that you love me?" Naomi asked sadly.

"I was afraid to believe you loved me," Kieran excused herself. "I kept talking myself out of thinking you could. I told myself I had imagined your feelings for me. And I was so afraid to say anything about how I felt, for fear it would damage my relationship with Kathryn and Seven. I didn’t think they’d approve, even if you did return my feelings."

"What changed your mind about them?" Naomi slipped the key into the front door, jiggling the old dead bolt.

"They told me they had no objections—right after Gretchen bawled me out for not properly appreciating how special you are, and how lucky I am that you love me," she grinned ruefully.

Naomi smiled up at her. "You are lucky, Kieran Wildman. And don’t forget it." She pushed the door open with her shoulder to get it past the sticking point, and the living room sprung into view, a virtual forest of lighted candles. "Oh look," Naomi breathed. "Aunt Phoebe is such a romantic," she giggled.

"Hey," Kieran stopped her. "Come here," she bent to pick Naomi up. "Hang on," she instructed her as she scooped up the slight Ktarian in her arms.

"What are you doing?" Naomi smiled at her enigmatically.

"Carrying you over the threshold," Kieran kissed her and stepped through the doorjamb. "It’s a really old earth custom—married couples are supposed to do it when they enter their conjugal domicile. This is as close as it gets, until my new ship is ready. That is, if you’re going to be my Chief Engineer," she added questioningly.

Naomi kissed her cheek. "That’s the only reason you married me, isn’t it?"

Kieran put her down in the living room, arms still around her as she deposited her on the wood floor. "Yep. That’s the only reason," Kieran teased.

"Dang," Naomi murmured. "And I thought it was because you couldn’t resist my charms, especially after skinny dipping with me this morning."

Kieran kissed her slowly, smiling into it. "Do you have any idea what that did to me?" she complained. "You’re so perfect, and there you were, just a breath away from me, naked and dripping and beautiful. I’ve never been so close to losing myself," she shivered, remembering.

Naomi laughed melodically. "I was hoping you would," she confided. "I wanted to kiss you, but I was afraid."

"Me too—but I was afraid. I really didn’t think you wanted me, and I thought if I acted on what I wanted, I’d just lose your friendship."

Naomi leaned her head against Kieran’s chest, listening to her heartbeat. "We really have to work on our communication, KT," she joked. "That’s pretty sweet, though, that you were worried about our friendship."

"That’s always been the most important thing to me, Naomi. It’s our foundation. Whatever else happened in my life, I knew I could count on your friendship."

Naomi led her through the house, each room shimmering in candlelight as they moved along the hallway. "Hey, look at that," she smiled broadly. In the kitchen sat a silver ice bucket with a bottle of champagne chilling in it, and a miniature cake that Phoebe had obviously replicated before leaving her house. "She thought of everything."

Kieran snagged the bottle and uncorked it, while Naomi chased the fountain of champagne that bubbled out of the neck. They laughed at the mess they made while Kieran poured a second flute. "You’d better cut the cake. You can see how well I did with the bottle," she handed a glass to her wife. "You’re supposed to feed it to me, you know."

Naomi cut off a large, icing laden slice and stuffed it in Kieran’s mouth. "That ought to keep you quiet for at least 30 seconds," she laughed, kissing the excess icing off Kierans lips.

Naomi expected Kieran to retaliate, but Kieran finger-fed her a dainty piece of cake, following it with her lips. Their kiss deepened momentarily before Kieran pulled away. "The champagne," she reminded Naomi. "Like this," she demonstrated how their arms were supposed to intertwine. They drank the first of it in one long swallow, smiling at each other.

Kieran withdrew her arm from Naomi’s then. "I’m sorry about not having a proper wedding ring for you," she began. "But your Gran really wanted to give you this one," she took Naomi’s hand, studying the ring in the candlelight.

"I didn’t even have one for you," Naomi pointed out.

Kieran chuckled. "I figured that means you’re going to let me carouse at will," she teased.

Naomi grabbed the front of her uniform and pulled her in close. "Not on your life," she growled. "We’ll go ring shopping as soon as we get back to Starfleet. I don’t want to catch any professors or graduate students flirting with you," she advised sternly, kissing Kieran again.

Kieran held Naomi at arm’s length, looking at her appreciatively. "Your moms did a great job picking a wedding dress," she commented. "You look like an angel in it."

"Hmmm," Naomi grinned wickedly. "My thoughts are pretty far from angelic, right now," she flirted, sliding her arms around Kieran’s neck and kissing her. "And I’d like to get out of it, if you don’t mind," she admitted. "The lace on the bodice is scratchy."

Kieran sighed with relief. "Thank God. I want to get out of this uniform, too. Did I ever mention how much I hate dress whites?" She took Naomi’s hand and led her to the bedroom.

"K-Mom brought the bags over," Naomi announced as she spied them at the foot of the bed. "I know it’s not particularly sexy, but I usually sleep in your old academy sweatshirt and nothing else."

Kieran felt a wave of tenderness rush through her. "You do? Isn’t it falling apart, after all these years?"

Naomi grinned. "It’s not in great shape," she admitted.

"I’ve got several new ones. I can dig one out for you, if you’d like," she offered, hefting her bag onto the foot of the bed. She rooted around for a few moments, then produced a bright orange jersey shirt. "How’s this?"

Naomi shed her wedding dress and undergarments, slipping the oversized shirt on in the dim light. "Much better," she decided.

Kieran started to unhook the clasp at her throat, but Naomi moved into her arms. "Let me," she whispered, opening the collar of Kieran’s dress whites. She undressed her partner with careful, calculating fingers, stripping away the first layer and stopping to admire the Captain’s muscular arms. "I don’t think I can reach high enough to pull this over your head," she murmured, tugging up the bottom hem of the mock neck tank top. Kieran obediently sat down on the edge of the bed and held her arms over her head. "That works," she breathed softly as Kieran’s torso was bared to her. She placed a trail of lingering kisses along Kieran’s shoulder, following the gradual upward curve to her throat. Kieran sat completely still, hands resting on Naomi’s hips, eyes closing with the rush of electric sensation that shot through her. Naomi pushed her backward, reaching for the fastener of her slacks. Nimble fingers worked the hook and button free, and Naomi knelt beside the bed to tug off the white leather boots before trying to remove the pants.

She’s done this a lot of times, Kieran realized, a little surprised by the thought. No hesitation or clumsiness.

She rapidly forgot to analyze Naomi’s experienced manner as she felt lips close around her left breast, gasping at the unexpected intimacy. Kieran regained her equilibrium long enough to slip the orange sweatshirt back off of her wife, and they moved together subtly, easing into each other’s embrace. The sensation of bare skin grazing bare skin caused a sharp intake of breath as Naomi slid over Kieran’s outstretched body, suspended on rigid arms, hair falling in a silken cascade around their kisses.

Kieran tangled her fingers in Naomi’s hair, arching upward as Naomi traced the edges of Kieran’s mouth with her tongue. If Kieran had expected a tentative air from her wife, she was mistaken, and the boldness of Naomi’s aggression disarmed her completely.

"Na," Kieran groaned in the darkness, the urgency rising as Naomi kissed a path from Kieran’s ear to the downy triangle between her legs, lingering over her breasts before continuing her descent. "God," she gasped as gentle lips enfolded her aching flesh. "Naomi!" she cried out into the pillow, legs taut and lifting her upward. Kieran felt the entire focus of her existence narrowed to the sensation between her legs, the slick heat encompassing her sex, intensified by the surprise of an experienced lover where she had assumed Naomi would be innocent.

The need crested repeatedly as Naomi loved her, and Kieran’s vocalizations were reduced to incomprehensible sounds that made Naomi half crazed with desire. She loved knowing that her tongue could make Kieran whimper with desperation, as easily as it could make her moan with delight. Kieran felt as if she had been ushered to the highest peak and allowed to fall again at speeds faster than light, her body shattered into sparkling shards and fragments, mind unable to form a coherent thought. It was more enthralling than any sex she had ever had, and it left her unspeakably vulnerable afterward. She collapsed back against the pillows as Naomi ascended the length of her body, moving into the circle of Kieran’s arms, letting the astonished Captain cling to her as the final convulsions tore through her.

Naomi’s face rested in the hollow of Kieran’s shoulder, her hand splayed across Kieran’s belly as she watched Kieran’s chest heaving. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, tracing the outline of Kieran’s ribs.

Kieran struggled to recapture her composure. "Yeah," she managed. "I’m—that—you—"

Naomi laughed at her nonsensical blather. "Pretty good?" she teased.

"Oh my God," Kieran groaned, hugging Naomi closer. "How—where—did you," she sighed, body trembling.

"It’s okay, honey," Naomi kissed her cheek. "You don’t have to talk."

"Good," Kieran concluded. "Because—I—can’t."

They lay together for a long while, content in their newfound intimacy. Kieran was astonished at Naomi’s abilities, and started to laugh deep in her chest. The rumbling sound made Naomi smile.

Kieran stroked her soft hair, cradling her. "I don’t know why I thought you’d be a novice," she chuckled. "Silly me. You knew exactly what you were doing," she accused playfully.

Naomi grinned, pleased with herself. "I’ve had my fair share of relationships. Just never anything emotionally committed."

"Do tell," Kieran hugged her closer. "You said you and Rachel McVicker?" she prompted.

"Yeah, for the last couple of years. She and I were lovers when the Sagan was attacked, and I thought, before that, maybe— " she hesitated. "But then I was with you at DS9, and then back on Earth, and I knew there was no way I could commit to Rachel when there was a chance for you and I," she explained.

Kieran squelched the misgivings that arose in her mind. "Did she know you had feelings for me?"

"Oh, absolutely," Naomi propped herself up on her hand, peering at her wife. "When I was with you, and you were so bad, she got pretty angry because I wouldn’t see her. I mean, I couldn’t. I wasn’t about to leave your bedside when you could come out of your coma at any minute, and she just didn’t get it. After you came to, I managed to see her briefly, once when K-Mom and Borg-Mom were visiting you. She and I had a screaming match over it, but I made it crystal clear to her that your recovery came first, and any relationship I had with her was secondary to that."

Kieran swallowed hard. "She must hate me," she concluded.

"She hates what you represent, but not you, KT. She knows that the real problem is me and my feelings. When I returned to Voyager, we picked up where we left off, but she started to get possessive, jealous—she started trying to pin me down, because she could sense that my heart was truly yours."

"Pin you down how?" Kieran could just about guess, but needed to hear it.

Naomi touched Kieran’s cheek, tracing the angular bones beneath. "She asked me to marry her about a dozen times—every couple of weeks, she’d start up again. I kept telling her I didn’t feel that way about her, but she’d always get back on that worn out track. We used to fight a lot, because she’d get in a snit about my feelings for you, and I would always tell her that she didn’t have to stay with me, if she couldn’t handle it. She’d get her panties in a wad and wouldn’t talk to me for a couple of days, but then she’d forgive me and come apologizing. It was a really stressful dynamic."

"So you were up front about what you did and didn’t want," Kieran stated with obvious relief.

"Yeah. But this is going to be difficult for her, finding out we’re married," Naomi admitted. "I’m going to have to talk to her alone to break it to her. I hope you understand."

Kieran cupped Naomi’s face in a large, warm hand, kissing her gently. "Of course," she agreed. "I imagine it will come as a bit of a shock."

"Well, she must have sensed something was up, because the last week we were aboard Voyager, I wouldn’t have sex with her, probably because psychologically, I was closing her out, knowing I really loved you. But I also didn’t know if you could ever return my feelings, and I told myself that if you and I didn’t work out our relationship, I’d go back to Voyager, and I’d agree to settle down with her."

Kieran stiffened perceptibly, not at all comfortable with knowing her wife had been sexually involved with someone else, essentially right up until their wedding. "As far as she knows, right now, you’re still her lover?" Kieran sat up, drawing the covers around her. "I just assumed when you said you had dated her that it was past tense--that you two had been broken up for awhile. My God, Na, I didn’t know you were in a relationship with her. Shouldn’t you have broken it off with her before we got together?"

Naomi dismissed it lightly. "So my timing isn’t perfect. What would you have had me do?"

Kieran was getting angry. "Maybe you should have told me we couldn’t get married until you were actually available," she bit off her words purposefully.

"Whoa, wait—I was available. I’ve never agreed to be exclusive with Rachel. You make it sound like I was playing you both off against each other."

"Weren’t you?" Kieran was hurt.

"Not at all, KT. For Christ’s sake, Kieran, until today, you never acted like you felt anything for me. How was I supposed to act, considering I’ve been in love with you for most of my life? I could have married a dozen different people in the time you and B'Elanna were together. I’ve had enough offers. But I never did, because I just couldn’t get past what I feel for you. I wasn’t willing to settle for less than what I want."

"But you would have with Rachel, if I hadn’t returned your feelings?" she asked in a retreating voice.

"I had talked myself into the logic of it," Naomi explained. "She’s a wonderful woman, certainly a worthy mate. And if I couldn’t have you, then I figured maybe there’s nobody else I can truly fall in love with. It never happened, after all, so why would I think it ever would? At least with Rach, I could make a decent match, not live alone my whole life. And it would have made her deliriously happy. But I couldn’t give up on you just yet. I knew it was you I wanted, and that it always has been. Look, I’m sorry if that’s just plain wrong, and on a lot of levels, I know it was. I struggled with that passel of demons ad nauseum. I’m a flawed individual, and maybe not the best person ethically and morally, but there’s one thing for certain. No one will ever love you as completely and fiercely as I have."

Kieran felt herself relenting, reminded herself not to judge, and relaxed. "So there’s no regret over being married to me? I mean, you’re not thinking maybe you made the wrong choice?"

Naomi pounced on her, kissing her roughly. "I made the only choice. All I’m saying is I need to take some time to talk to Rachel, and tell her in person that I married you. Okay?"

"Okay," Kieran acquiesced. "I just don’t want you to be with me if there’s any doubt, Na. You know me as well as anyone, and I’m as faithful as the day is long. I meant the things I said in our vows, and I will honor them as long we’re both alive, just as I kept my vows with B'Elanna. If you can’t do the same, tell me now, because I’m crazy in love with you, and I couldn’t ever forgive you if you broke them."

Naomi was stunned at the vulnerability in Kieran’s voice. "Honey, of course I’ll honor our vows. If I couldn’t, or if I didn’t want to, I would never have taken them. I’m sorry if my having a few loose ends makes things complex. It’s just—well, when you said you’d get the JP, I really didn’t think you would," she laughed softly. "I should have known you wouldn’t kid me about something that serious, but I thought you were just trying to get me out of that apple tree."

Kieran grinned. "I didn’t know what else to do, you were being so stubborn. And I figured, what the hell, I would have asked you sooner or later, anyway."

"Was there any doubt in your mind I’d accept?" Naomi kissed Kieran’s chin, then pressed her face against Kieran’s.

"You never really accepted," Kieran pointed out. "You just kept making demands. It was worse than negotiating a hostage situation," she teased.

"Yeah," Naomi laughed, "but I said ‘I do’ when the time came. That implies an acceptance of the offer."

"I guess so," Kieran agreed. "But a simple ‘yes, Kieran’ would have done nicely," she bitched.

Naomi hovered over her, peering down into endless brown eyes. "Yes, Kieran," she complied fondly, "I’ll marry you. In fact, I think we should do it all over again, and do it right."

Kieran groaned. "Oh lord, here it comes."

Naomi giggled, wrapping her arms around her spouse. "Yep. Biggest wedding you’ve ever seen. Everyone we know, everyone they know, enough flowers to fill the arboretum—it took me decades to hog-tie you, KT, and I want everyone to know you’re finally mine," she laughed, kissing her wife playfully.

Kieran smiled in complete surrender. "Whatever you want, my love," she agreed, rolling Naomi over and beneath her. "Does that mean, if we’re getting married again, that I should wait until then to consummate this relationship?" she asked suggestively, running her hands over Naomi’s breasts.

Naomi’s sudden intake of breath was the first reply. Naomi narrowed her eyes at the humorous expression on Kieran’s face. "You’d better not wait," she threatened, grabbing Kieran’s hair and drawing her down for a passionate kiss.

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

Rachel McVicker sat on the back porch of her parents’ home in Louisville, Illinois, watching the fading light playing across Naomi Wildman’s face. She thought about how beautiful the Ktarian was, and repressed the impulse to tell her so.

Naomi had just advised Rachel that their relationship was over.

Rachel struggled to retain her composure, her green eyes filling with tears, raven hair framing her misery stricken face. "I assume it’s Kieran?" Rachel clarified.

Naomi nodded. "You always knew how I felt about her."

"Yeah, I knew, but I guess I never expected she’d feel the same. She does, though, doesn’t she?" she asked mournfully.

"Apparently so."

"Then there’s nothing I can say? No way I can change your mind?" Rachel leaned forward, her face earnest.

Naomi shook her head slowly. "Kieran asked me to marry her," Naomi admitted.

"So did I, Boo," she used Naomi’s pet name. "I practically begged. You know I love you more than she ever can," she contended, chin jutting out in hurt defiance.

Naomi felt two inches tall. "The point is, Mac, I love her in ways I’ve never loved anyone else. You deserve a wife who loves you that way. That can’t be me."

"Can’t you just give us more time? I’ll do anything you ask. I thought, when I fell in love with you, it would last me a lifetime. I thought you’d always be there for me, always care about me. I don't want to lose you, Boo. Please," she pleaded softly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I can’t," Naomi’s voice thickened. "If I could be two people, Mac, I would be. I don’t want to hurt you. That was never my intent. Please don’t make this harder on me than it already is."

"What, I should make it easy for you to walk away? Nothing doing. I want it to be hard. Because it’s killing me," she hung her head wearily. "I love you so much, Naomi. Please, don’t do this," she moved silently over to the strawberry blonde Ktarian, taking both her hands. "Don’t leave me," she whispered. She glanced down at Naomi’s hands in her own, and the sunset glinted off the fragile gold band on Naomi’s ring finger. "Oh God," Rachel murmured. "You already did it, didn’t you?" she dropped Naomi’s hands and turned away. "You married her? My God, Naomi, how could you? How could you not even wait to tell me?"

Naomi’s stomach was in knots. "It happened so fast, Mac, I wanted to tell you, but—I can’t excuse it, or explain it. It just happened that way. I’m so sorry. I can’t help it, Mac, I love her. I always have."

Rachel walked to the edge of the porch, not facing her ex-lover, quite certain the world had ended. "Just go, Naomi. Get on with your life. You can’t fix this. I’m not some fucking plasma relay that can be jimmied into acceptance. You made your decision a long time ago, back when Kieran was in the hospital. I knew it then, and I should have kept my distance, but I loved you, and I thought maybe—well, it doesn’t matter what I thought," she said unhappily.

"I’m sorry, Mac," Naomi choked on the words. "I’ll send your necklace to you. You might want to give it to your lifepartner, someday."

"Fuck that," Rachel lashed out. "Just keep it, or throw it away, or who the hell cares? Go away, Naomi. Just get out of here," she raged at her. "Stop trying to make me feel better, because you can’t."

Naomi crept across the lawn in the gathering dew, shivering in the chill of the summer night as her feet became damp and her shoes absorbed the moisture from the blades of grass. She looked back once, but Rachel had gone inside, and only the empty porch bench looked back at her. She keyed the entry to the runabout, set her course, and headed back to Indiana.

______________

Captain Kathryn Janeway paced the length of the interrogation room, countenance stony and tight. "Please," she tried to persuade the frightened Creoheem, "help me. Naomi will die if we don’t get food and water to her."

Jamari shrugged noncommittally. "That was what she wanted," he said blandly. "My people die for lack of those things all the time, and not by choice. Naomi was fully aware of what she was doing."

"Then you know where she is?" Janeway slammed her hands down on the table in frustration. "Damn it, you have to tell us! She’s my daughter!"

Counselor Thompson-Torres had to restrain the angry Captain to keep her from launching herself across the table into the young boy’s face. "Kathryn," she muttered under her breath in warning.

Jamari was unmoved. "I made a deal with her. It would be dishonest to break it."

"I could let the Restidian authorities beat it out of you," she growled angrily, "but they’d probably kill you." She tried a more persuasive tactic. "Jamari, Naomi is ill. She needs help. If she weren’t ill, she would not ordinarily want to take her own life. Please, help me help her."

"She didn’t seem sick to me," he countered. "In fact, she was perfectly aware of what she was doing, and had decided she wanted to die. She said it was her right," he asserted. "And she did say it wasn’t about her family, Captain, so I don’t think she meant it to hurt you."

Kieran decided to try to get through to him. "Jamari," she said softly, her voice persuasive and low, "children, in our culture, do not ordinarily want to die. If Naomi said that’s what she wanted, that is proof of how sick she must have been when you saw her. She is likely still suffering from the effects of exposure to the cerebrosporum. If she were an adult who wanted to die, we’d be more inclined to allow her to," she explained.

Janeway looked him up and down speculatively. "What did she offer you to help her?" she hit the crux of the issue. "Food? Currency? What?"

Jamari squirmed uncomfortably. "She didn’t offer me anything."

Kieran grimly nodded at Kathryn. "Whatever she offered, we’ll make you a better deal."

That got his attention. "What sort of deal?"

"Tell us what you want, Jamari," Kathryn stated coldly.

Jamari crossed his arms defiantly. "I want you to take me and my sister with you when you leave. Take us on Voyager. We don’t eat much," he added, thinking that might sweeten the deal.

Janeway was floored. She looked at Kieran, eyes wide. "You want to go with us? Where do you want us to take you?"

"We want to live with you. We don’t want to go to some other planet—we want to go with you, Captain. We are orphans, despised by the Restidians, poor and hungry. We need food and medical attention. We want a family."

Janeway’s heart clutched in her chest. Not so much to ask, really—enough food to eat, medical care, people to love them. How much more fundamental can a need be? She thought about her ship’s capacity, already straining with the addition of infants to the crew the year before. "Jamari, you don’t know what you’re asking. You would never see Restid Three again."

"I don’t care," he contended. "I’m tired of begging and scamming people just to feed my sister. I want to go to school, like the Restidian children. I want a clean bed to sleep in. I want to sleep without worrying that the Restidians will come for me in the night and send me to one of their camps. I won’t miss Restid, Captain. Do we have a deal? You agree to take Teseque and myself with you, and I will take you to Naomi."

Kieran glanced at her Captain, nodding emphatically. Janeway inclined her head in reply. "Very well. Now please, show us where she is."

"Not until you transport my sister. She needs to see your doctor right away," he demanded.

"Then take us to her," Kieran urged him. "We’re running out of time, Jamari."

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

Kieran Wildman sat on the porch of the Janeway family’s farmhouse with her new mother-in-law, each drinking a beer. Kieran swiped the bottle across her forehead, trying to cool herself.

"Muggy enough for you, Kato?" Kathryn asked, taking a long swallow.

"I can’t believe you grew up like this. It’s miserable," she complained. "I got out of the shower this morning, and no sooner was I dried off than I needed another shower. This humidity is awful."

Kathryn smirked. "Yeah, I bet it was too hot to have much of a honeymoon," she quirked an eyebrow at her friend.

Kieran scowled at her. "Don’t tell me you want details?" she demanded.

Kathryn nodded enthusiastically, grinning.

Kieran laughed, shaking her head. "You’re such a busybody, Kat. Don’t you think Naomi would be mortified if I gave you the scoop?"

Kathryn leaned closer on the swing. "I’ll never tell," she promised.

Kieran slapped her thigh. "You’re awful. Besides, you never tell me the juicy stuff about you and Seven. Tit for tat, toots."

Kathryn grinned mischievously. "Nothing to tell. You know the important stuff."

"Liar. Naomi says you two roll around in bed like absolute trash, so don’t give me that ‘I could be a nun’ look, Kathryn," Kieran scolded her.

"Oh she does, does she?" Kathryn was indignant. "With all the soundproofing in our quarters, nobody should be able to hear a bomb go off in there, let alone us getting randy." She swigged her beer. "Besides, Naomi hasn’t lived with us since she was twenty. How would she know?"

Kieran winked. "Maybe Seven tells her," she teased.

"So you’re not going to tell me anything?" Kathryn complained loudly.

Kieran gave her a satisfied grin. "Well, let’s just say a good time was had by all, and leave it at that. Okay?" she giggled, her color rising.

"Oh my God," Kathryn said with a knowing tone, "it must have been great, the way you’re blushing, Kato. So if it was, why did Naomi go to see Rachel McVicker today?"

"Unfinished business. She went to break the news that we’re a married couple," Kieran bragged, stretching lazily.

Kathryn sighed. "Poor Rachel. She loves Naomi so much. It’s a shame, really."

"Hey!" Kieran protested. "That’s a rotten thing to say. Aren’t you happy for us?"

Kathryn baited her. "Well, I really had hoped Naomi would find someone a little younger," she mentioned, studying her beer bottle. "I suppose grandchildren are out of the question, now that she’s married to an old geezer like you."

Kieran was insulted. "What? But you said—you—" she sputtered, then seeing the gleam in Kathryn’s eye, she crossed her legs. "I thought you were serious. Damn it, Kat, I love her. If she wants kids, we’ll have kids. I wouldn’t deprive her of anything. You know that, don’t you?"

"I just wanted to hear you say it, Kato," Kathryn chuckled. "I don’t think she really wants kids, but you never know. She’s young, she might change her mind."

"Well, if she does, that’s fine. I don’t really want kids, myself, but I’d do it to make her happy, as long as she understands that I’m a Captain, and I can’t be running home to change diapers in the middle of red alert."

"Believe me, she knows that. She’s my daughter. She knows precisely what it’s like to live with a Captain. Frankly, I’m surprised she married you, considering that she did grow up with me," she squinted into the darkness.

Naomi was coming around the side of the house and overheard Kathryn. "I’m surprised too," she called out, "I guess I really am a sucker."

Kieran jumped up and ran down the steps. "Na!" she sighed with relief, not realizing she had been worried. "I missed you," she hugged her wife tightly. "Everything okay?"

"Well, Rachel is pretty upset, but since I won’t be going back to Voyager, it doesn’t matter—she won’t have to see us together, and that should help," she explained, taking Kieran’s beer and finishing it off. "Can I get one of those?"

Kieran grinned. "Have a seat with your mother, and I’ll be back in a sec."

Naomi threw herself into an old lawn chair, grinning over at her mother. "Where are Gran and Seven?"

Kathryn rolled her eyes. "Mother is teaching Seven to sew."

"Good God," Naomi sounded disgusted. "You’d think the replicator was an instrument of sin, or something," she sniped.

"You okay?" Kathryn lowered her voice, touching Naomi’s arm.

"Fine," Naomi smiled at her reassuringly. "Rachel was pretty angry, but she’ll get over it."

Kathryn shook her head. "I meant with you and Kieran," she corrected.

"Absolutely, K-Mom. You worry too much. Look, I know this was sort of sudden, but really, if you think about it, it isn’t sudden at all. I think we’d have ended up married, either way. Don’t you?" she asked softly.

"I suppose so," Kathryn agreed. "I just don’t want to see you two get off on the wrong foot. Kato’s had a rough go of it, and you weren’t exactly free and clear of Rachel when you said ‘I do’, you know."

"It’ll be fine, really. Kieran isn’t the type of woman to undertake a marriage lightly. And you know how I’ve felt about her. I’m sorry for the circumstances, of course, but not the outcome."

Kathryn nodded slowly. "I know. But if you need any advice—or if you want to talk—" she offered.

"I know, Mom. You’re only a subspace channel away. Now stop fretting."

"Can’t help it," Kathryn inclined her head slightly. "I’m a mother. It’s my job. And you’re going to be away from Seven and I for the first time since you were born. That concerns me."

Kieran pushed through the screen door, toting three bottles of beer. "I’ll take care of her, Kat," she promised, handing out the drinks.

Kathryn fought the impulse to ask Like you took care of B'Elanna? She mentally slapped herself for the momentary lapse of confidence in her friend. "I know you will. But you know me—I have to control everything," she admitted.

At that they all laughed and toasted the sentiment.

_______________

The holographic representation of Deanna Troi chewed thoughtfully on a stylus, surveying the dejected Ktarian before her. "You tried to kill yourself, Naomi. Of course the Captain is going to make you see me, since you refuse to talk to Counselor Thompson-Torres," she argued.

"What’s the point?" Naomi shot back.

Dee crossed her arms resolutely. "The point is that we need to figure out what is happening inside your head to make you want to stop participating in your life. We need to get to the root of what has you so disturbed."

"You don’t understand," Naomi stood up and headed for the door, only to be stopped by two security guards posted outside it. She whirled on her therapist. "Is this really necessary? You have to take me hostage?"

Dee smirked. "Obviously we can’t trust you to roam the ship at will. That’s how you ended up in the Rainbow Caves again. The Captain’s orders were quite clear, Naomi. You are under a suicide watch. Period."

"That’s ridiculous," Naomi shouted in frustration. "Look, it’s not that I want to die," she hotly contended.

"You could have fooled me," the hologram retorted.

"It’s not that I want to die," Naomi reiterated. "It’s just that I want a different life, not this one," she flopped back down in her chair, legs hanging over the arm rest.

"You want to be the 31-year-old Naomi," Dee clarified.

"No, not the one I told you about. This one, the one I experienced most recently—she’s better," Naomi explained, trying to sort out the difference in her own mind.

"You mean when you went back into the caves, you weren’t in the same hallucination as the first time?" Dee was perplexed.

"It was similar, but not completely the same," Naomi expressed herself with her hands. "I mean, I was different—I was better, though still not totally assertive."

"What made the second Naomi better?" Dee beseeched her charge with outstretched hands.

"She wasn’t such a doormat," the strawberry blonde immediately supplied. "The first Naomi, she had lived her whole life waiting for Kieran Thompson to love her. She hadn’t dated anyone seriously, hadn’t explored what her life could be about—she was just waiting for Kieran to say ‘okay, come be with me.’ It was pathetic."

"Yet, when Kieran did say, ‘okay, come be with me’, you were happy. So happy you couldn’t stand the idea of losing that reality," Dee pointed out.

"And that is just as pathetic," Naomi criticized. "That’s what made me so depressed—I woke up and realized that my life is going to be just like that Naomi’s."

"You think so? Why?" Dee prodded.

"Take a look around, Counselor. Everyone on this ship is either twenty years older than me or ten years younger—well, except Icheb. Voyager is going to be in the Delta Quadrant until I’m middle aged. What kind of life can I really expect?"

"Whatever kind of life you make for yourself," Dee smiled warmly.

"Bullshit," Naomi let her head fall back to her shoulders, staring at the ceiling. "I can only do so much within the parameters I’ve been given."

"Granted," the Betazoid conceded. "So let’s look at what you liked better about the second Naomi. Maybe you can learn to be more like her."

Naomi considered. "She hadn’t spent her whole life waiting for Kieran. She had had lovers, friends, positive experiences that didn’t revolve around Kieran. She was still too eager to run to Kieran when Kieran finally noticed her, but at least her life was an improvement."

"How could her life have been better?" Dee pushed.

"If she’d have told Kieran to get bent," Naomi hissed angrily. "If she had said ‘no’ when Kieran said ‘marry me’."

"Why is that a better outcome?" Dee asked quietly.

"Because Kieran doesn’t deserve to have me wait for her my whole life," Naomi snapped, hurt. "Who the hell does she think she is? Nobody should get away with rejecting someone for years and years, and then change their mind, and have it be all right. Love is not that forgiving or unconditional." She leapt up again, pacing furiously. "If I could go back, I’d tell her to go to hell. Being someone’s second choice stinks," she threw her hands up, raving. "I have to go back. I have to tell her there is no way I’m going to wait for her. It’s a matter of self-respect. It’s obscene, the way I loved her so patiently and let her throw it in my face for my whole life."

Dee watched her patient’s parade of facial expressions as she poured out her thoughts. "You think going back will resolve your depression?"

Naomi nodded emphatically. "I think it would make me feel like I have something to look forward to, if my life turns out better than either of those Naomi’s."

"But who is to say that your life is going to be like theirs? It was only a hallucination, Naomi, not a valid projection of the future," the Counselor reasoned.

Naomi shrugged. "All I know is it seemed real, both times, and either outcome could be a logical progression of my current life. Isn’t there a theory in psychology that you can resolve a nightmare by taking active control of it when you’re sleeping? I’m sure Kieran told me that," she contended hopefully.

Dee nodded. "Yes, it’s a proven technique for people with severely disturbing dreams. But a dream is not the same as a hallucination, as far as we know. There’s no research to show that you can control a hallucination, because a hallucination seems real. Dreams don’t always seem real—your brain can sometimes step outside a dream and make the realization that you’re only dreaming."

"But guided imagery has proven to be therapeutic, hasn’t it?" Naomi asked hopefully. "What if we combined that technique with re-exposing me to the cerebrosporum?"

Dee’s mind was racing. It was an intriguing proposition. And it might actually work. "I’ll give it some thought, Naomi," she promised. "But I want to discuss it with Kieran and Captain Janeway, first. And Chakotay. He might have some insight into the guided imagery aspect of the approach. I’m not sure we’d actually have to expose you to the cerebrosporum again, to achieve what you’re proposing." She tapped the side of her jaw thoughtfully, wondering if Naomi was merely using the circumstances to get back under the influence of the cerebrosporum. She decided to test her. "Would you be willing to work with me if we find a way to address the hallucination without exposing you to the cerebrosporum?"

Naomi shrugged. "If you think there’s an equally effective way to get me back into that world so I can resolve things, I don’t care how you get me there," she stated matter-of-factly.

That was all Dee wanted to know.

_________________

"Out of the question," Kieran Thompson-Torres snapped impatiently at her holographic colleague. "Not unless you let me expose myself as a test subject first. I can’t in good conscience approve of letting Naomi go back into those godforsaken caves because she’s depressed."

Captain Janeway trusted her Ship’s Counselor’s judgement, but she was desperate enough to consider Dee’s idea. "Exposing you won’t accomplish anything, Kieran," Janeway advised. "Tom and Harry and Naomi gave us plenty of test data, and it’s still a gamble, at best. Dee is convinced it’s only moderately risky, and Naomi apparently needs to resolve these hallucinations so badly she was willing to die to do it. I’m afraid if we don’t let her, she’ll only sink deeper into her depression. There are plenty of ways to commit suicide on a starship, Counselor. Maybe this is the way to help Naomi work out of her depression."

"Maybe," Kieran acquiesced, "but what if there’s something about the cerebrosporum that makes her even more depressed? What if she gets worse?"

Dee chimed in. "I haven’t noted any increase in her depression since her second exposure. In fact, she is markedly improved since her second trip to the caves. She is at least determined to have it out with—uh—with the people she needs to confront," Dee tiptoed around the fact that Kieran was the issue at hand. "She is ready to meet the problem head on, and I think that’s a step in the right direction," Dee argued. "Think about it Kieran. If you could go back into the alternate reality where you killed Captain Janeway, find a way to resolve it so she didn’t have to die, wouldn’t you?"

Kieran started as if she’d been shot. "Of course I would. But this is Naomi we’re talking about, and—"

Janeway touched Kieran’s sleeve. "I know you love her, Kieran, and I know you are extraordinarily protective of her. But I’m truly afraid she’s going to depressurize a cargo bay with herself inside the second she has the chance. If we let her try this, the worst case scenario is that she is still depressed."

"Or that she doesn’t come back from the hallucination at all," the Doctor added his two cents. "Though that hasn’t been a problem so far, with anyone exposed—we still can’t rule it out."

Dee folded her hands. "The Restidians claim they have never had anyone completely check out of reality, and they have reams of data to support that, on their own people and on hundreds of species that have visited. Haven’t you done sufficient comparisons between Naomi’s physiology and the various physiologies in their database to rule out that sort of complication?"

"I’ve done what I can with what I’ve been given," the Doctor sounded miffed. "And I think it’s a remote possibility, but not an impossibility. So I’m reporting it, as is my duty to do so, Counselor," he bit his words off pointedly.

"Look," Kieran ignored his defensive reply, "surely there’s a better way. Doctor, you’ve been studying the brainwave patterns of all of our people under the influence of the cerebrosporum, and you have baseline pattern data on all of them. Can’t you extrapolate from that to find a way to artificially alter their brainwaves?"

He considered thoughtfully. "I could tinker with the cortical stimulators to see if I can simulate the effects of the cerebrosporum," he muttered. "If Lieutenant Torres can assist me with the technical aspects of the engineering, I could probably come up with something."

"Great," Kieran patted his arm. "Then I suggest you and B'Elanna try your hand at it, and test it on me."

"Kieran," Dee protested, "you are the last person that should be subjected to hallucinations. Your recent history with spatial psychosis makes you the least appropriate candidate for the tests."

The Doctor nodded vigorously. "I concur with that, Counselor."

"I’m the most logical choice," Janeway came back at them.

"No," Kieran snapped at the auburn haired woman. "Absolutely not. Chakotay would have your head if you even suggested it, and he would be right."

"Well, he can’t volunteer himself," Janeway shrugged. "He’s not a good test subject due to his own spiritual propensity to have visions. We would need someone who hasn’t been accustomed to hallucinations."

"It won’t work on Seven," the Doctor offered, "because it didn’t on Icheb."

"Then that leaves me," Janeway argued.

"I think it’s a bad idea, Captain," the Doctor disagreed.

Janeway cast a glance around the room, considering her options. "I’ll take it under advisement and let you know. Dismissed," she nodded curtly.

_____________

"I want you to know I appreciate your volunteering for this experiment," Captain Janeway said seriously. "I’m the last person you owe any favors to," she added softly.

"The past is the past," Rachel McVicker assured her. "I want to help. I care a great deal about Naomi," she explained. She turned to the EMH. "So Doctor, what can I expect?"

He smiled reassurance to his test subject. "You should experience a hallucinatory state that will seem completely real to you. Other than that, I can’t say," he admitted. "Our present information indicates that for the people who have been exposed to this state of consciousness, it is pleasant. However, leaving the hallucination has not been particularly pleasant. I need you to understand there are risks."

"You’re under no obligation to do this, Rachel. You can change your mind," Janeway squeezed her shoulder, comforting her.

Rachel looked at Kieran. "You think it’s safe, KT?"

Kieran looked at her piteously. "I can’t say for certain. None of us can. But if you emerge from the experiment depressed, I will do everything in my power to help you, you know that."

Rachel smiled. "Okay then," she turned to the Doctor. "Throw the switch, warden."

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

The breeze swept across the land, scattering granules of sand in its wake, leaving a thin residue of grit clinging to her skin. Rachel checked the position of the sun overhead, getting her bearings, squinting up at the blazing orb through the veil of her sweat soaked bangs. Her shoulders ached from the weight of her pack, her legs quivered with fatigue, and her lumbar muscles clutched with the strain. She had no idea if she was at the head of the pack of contestants, somewhere in the middle, or straggling along dead last. It had been two days since she had passed anyone on the trail.

She punched up her topographical map on her PADD, trying to determine the distance to the next potable water source. Every inch of her body was overheated, but she trudged on, determined to take a swim at midday. When she spotted the strip of green vegetation in the distance, she felt her heart leap with joy, and her stride instantly quickened. The drudgery of lifting her feet in succession seemed less overwhelming, and she was almost jogging when she spotted a fellow contestant, prone and face down on the ground.

The woman was slightly built, several inches shorter than Rachel, with hair that was bleached from the sun, but with vestiges of brown throughout. She was quite muscular, and quite unconscious. Rachel shed her backpack hastily, checked for a pulse, and was rewarded with a steady thrum beneath her fingertips. She rolled the woman over, dug in her pack for a tricorder, and clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Heat exhaustion, she noted. "I’d better get you cooled off," she muttered, grasping the woman beneath the armpits and dragging her toward the roaring creek. She removed her own boots and socks, then removed those of her companion, before tugging her limp body into the flow.

The shock of the icy water snapped the woman awake, and she sputtered and struggled as Rachel tried to steady her in the current. "Hey!" she hollered indignantly, "are you tryin’ to drown me?"

Rachel laughed. "No, I’m trying to keep you from becoming vulture food. You passed out."

The woman eyed her angrily. "I was resting."

"Face down in the dirt?" Rachel let go of her and settled into the stream. "God, this feels good."

The woman snatched her own leg and looked to see if her hiking boots were still on. "Thanks for at least taking them off," she growled at the raven-haired beauty who was anchored on a rock in the raging water. "If I had to wait for my boots to dry, I’d never get back on track."

Rachel blanched. "Don’t tell me you’re staying in the race?" she was astonished. "You need medical treatment."

"Oh, like I’m going to let you win?" the woman retorted. "I’m fine. I just needed a little breather," she contended, her hazel eyes sparking with determination.

Rachel dunked her head backwards in the torrent of water pouring over the rocks, wetting her hair and slicking it back. "You’re crazy," she declared. "You must have heat stroke."

The woman glared at her defiantly. "I’ve won this race two years running. I’m not about to go down this close to the finish line."

Rachel was startled. "You’re Sullivan Cater?"

"Yeah, what of it?" the woman washed her face in the creek.

"Nothing—it’s just—you don’t look like I thought you’d look, that’s all," Rachel faltered.

Sullivan laughed. "How’d you think I’d look?"

Rachel flushed with embarrassment. "Larger than life, I suppose. Taller."

"Yeah, well don’t let my size fool you. Pound for pound, I’m the best all terrain hiker in the Alpha Quadrant," she bragged.

Rachel was awed by this woman, about whom she’d read countless articles, listened to dozens of interviews, and faithfully followed every iota of advice in her monthly column in the Iron Terrain. "I suspect you’re the best in any Quadrant," Rachel said respectfully. "I’ve always wanted to meet you. I’m Rachel McVicker," she extended her hand.

Sullivan pushed through the current to take the proffered hand. "Nice to meet you. You know, I think I’ve heard of you. Didn’t you come in third in Queensland?"

Rachel nodded, smiling gratefully. It felt good to be recognized by a peer. "That’s my best finish to date."

Sullivan rubbed her hands beneath the foaming jets coursing over the ledge beside them, trying to clean away the filth. "You’re a latecomer, aren’t you?"

"I didn’t start to compete until two years ago," she agreed.

"Why not?" Sullivan examined her fingernails, which were no longer impacted with dirt, and dunked her head back to cleanse her hair.

"I was in the Delta Quadrant before that," Rachel replied nonchalantly. "I was part of the Voyager crew."

It was Sullivan’s turn to be impressed. "Wow. I bet you’ve got some stories. And I’d love to hear ‘em, only I’ve got to be getting on," she muttered, looking at her chronometer. "I need to make the trailhead by nightfall if I’m going to break last year’s record time," she noted.

"If you insist on going on, why not walk together for awhile?" Rachel offered hopefully.

Sullivan was already easing toward the bank. "Ordinarily, I’d say no," she called back over her shoulder, "but then I don’t meet a historical figure every day," she chuckled. "Hurry up, though. We’re wasting daylight."

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

That night, they made camp together. Rachel entertained the legendary all terrain champion with remembrances of Voyager, and the longer they talked, the less gruff Sullivan Cater seemed to be. She talked about her hiking shoe contract, the training schedule she had to endure to stay competitive, and the pressures of being an intergalactic athlete. Rachel listened eagerly to Sullivan’s tales of her rise to the top of her game, the injuries she had overcome to continue her career, and the emotional price she had paid in her relationships to stay at the top of the heap.

In return, Rachel confided her failed relationships on Voyager, most notably with Noah Lessing, and her realization that she either had to be with a woman, or be single, because she couldn’t be with another man. Sullivan had heartily agreed with her, which pleased Rachel immensely to know her idol was also someone who preferred the company of women.

When the sun rose the next morning, Sullivan was up and off, leaving Rachel snoozing peacefully. Before she left their camp, she scribbled her comm account address on a piece of map, tore it off, and stuck it in Rachel’s boot laces, where she couldn’t miss it. Rachel was disappointed to wake up alone, but her heart fluttered when she read the note that accompanied the address. It said "Look me up after the race. I could use a training partner."

_________________

The Doctor hovered protectively over Rachel McVicker, who was coming out of the brainwave pattern that had allowed her to hallucinate freely. He ran a tricorder over her several times, checking her vitals. "How are you feeling, Ensign?" he asked.

Rachel breathed deeply, as if awakening from a peaceful sleep. "I feel—great," she realized. She looked around the sickbay, suddenly confused. "Where am I?"

Kieran Thompson-Torres stepped up beside her, a look of concern on her face. "You’re on board Voyager, Rachel. Do you remember? You volunteered to test the modified cortical stimulators that the Doctor and B'Elanna programmed."

Rachel sat up, drawing her legs up on the biobed. "I think so," she rubbed her temples distractedly. "Wait—yes, I remember. So the all terrain race—Sullivan Cater—that was a hallucination?" she asked, disappointed.

"I’m afraid so," the Doctor replied.

"Oh," Rachel replied. "Well, okay. It was a nice one, anyway."

Kieran scanned her for chemical signs of depression, most notably serotonin reuptake at the neurological synapses. There were mild indications of depression, but nothing that would require pharmacological intervention. "Rachel, how would you describe your mood?" Kieran asked kindly.

Rachel considered, shrugging. "No different than usual, I guess. I feel a little let down—I was having a great dream," she reported. "But otherwise, nothing unusual."

"Good," Kieran replied, turning off her scanning tricorder. "I’d say the procedure is a success."

The Doctor smiled. "I would have to agree. Now let’s get some protocols in place to regulate the use of this instrumentation, and we’ll be set."

Kieran nodded affirmatively. "I think that’s a wise precaution. These little devices," she picked up the modified cortical stimulators, "could be dangerously addictive, if used improperly."

_________________

Having determined the altered cortical stimulators were a successful facsimile of the effects of the cerebrosporum, the Doctor, Dee, Kieran and the Captain decided it was safe to allow Naomi Wildman to undergo the treatment. Dee put her into a hypnotic state and gave her some suggestions to psychologically carry into the next hallucination, designed to assist Naomi in taking control of the images and the outcome of the experience. Then the doctor activated the cortical stimulators, and Naomi fell into a deep, hallucinatory state.

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

Naomi Wildman packed her things reluctantly, thinking about Kieran Thompson. She knew Kieran wasn’t ready for anything more than the friendship they shared, and that all of her energy needed to go into rehabilitation and recovery, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that if she walked away from Kieran now, things would be irreparably damaged. She couldn’t think of a single logical reason why that would be so, but her gut told it was true. Kathryn and Seven had been adamant that Naomi needed to return to Voyager, and Naomi had hesitantly agreed with them. She had discussed it with Kieran, hoping to secure some sort of promise from her about their future, and she supposed Kieran had been as committal as she could be, given her frame of mind.

Naomi sat on Kieran’s couch, taking both of Kieran’s hands. "K-Mom tells me I have to resume my duties on Voyager, KT, or I’m going to lose my commission. If you tell me to stay, you know I will. If you need me with you, you have to tell me now," she had earnestly pleaded with her friend.

Kieran squeezed her hands. "I don’t want you to lose your career because of me, Na. You know there are things I’m just not capable of right now, things I can’t give. If I had it in me to give it, I would, honey. But I don’t. As much as I need you, you should go back. If there’s a future for us, then there is. I won’t ask you to wait for me, because I can’t say how I’ll feel down the line. And you need to understand that right now, I feel so used up and empty, I don’t know if I’ll ever have anything to offer you or anyone else. I don’t tell you that to hurt you or discourage you, Na. I’m telling you to be fair," Kieran assured her in a fierce tone.

Naomi sighed and closed her valise. It seemed ironic to her that finally, she and Kieran were both single at the same time, and still, there were obstacles. She shouldered her bags and headed for the transporter dais. She had already said her good-byes. As she waited in line at the transport station at Starfleet Headquarters, she didn’t notice a silent, towering figure, poised on the second floor landing of the atrium, sadly watching with one intact eye, as Naomi departed.

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

Voyager’s new First Officer Kittner McCallister scowled at the figures on the PADD. Captain Janeway would not be pleased with the engine efficiency reports. Voyager was only a week out from the Utopia Planetia shipyards, and already, they were down six percent.

"Something I can help you with, Commander?" Naomi Wildman asked blandly, noting the unpleasant expression on the First Officer’s face.

"Yes, Chief," McCallister replied tersely, holding out the PADD. "Engine efficiency is at 92%, Lieutenant, and we’re only a week out of dry dock. We were at 98% in testing, and we’ve dropped six percent in just a few days. Care to explain?" her deep golden eyes burned with intensity.

Naomi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was accustomed to breaking in green First Officers, but this one was more uptight than Kieran and Noah had been, combined. She missed Noah, but was proud of him for his promotion to Captain. She forced a smile for the freshly promoted Commander, whose body was more tightly coiled than the shoulder length brown and gold curls that hung to McCallister’s shoulders . She stood toe to toe with McCallister, but gentled her voice. "How about if we go over some historical data, Commander? I’m certain I can put your mind at ease," she lay a comforting hand on McCallister’s forearm, gazing confidently into troubled eyes.

The Commander rocked onto her toes and took a calming breath. "I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I didn’t mean to snap at you—it’s just—"

Naomi smiled warmly at her superior officer, liking her strong features and her ability to apologize immediately. "It’s just that you’re new at this First Officer gig, and you’re afraid my mother is going to hand you your head."

McCallister exhaled and laughed nervously. "She has quite the reputation," she agreed, taking back the PADD. Then realizing she had potentially insulted Naomi’s mother, she stammered "I mean—I didn’t mean to imply—"

Naomi grinned conspiratorially. "It’s okay. She’s my mom, but I’m not oblivious to how demanding she is. And she will be tough on you, at least until you prove yourself to her. But once you do, she’s pretty great to work for. And she turns her First Officers into outstanding Captains in short order."

The Commander nodded vigorously. "That’s why I fought so hard to get this posting," she agreed. "So—you have data for me to look over?" she got back to the point.

"Yes, Sir," Naomi smiled. "It’s not unusual after a heavy D-check to run below standard for a few days. Let me show you," she moved to a work station console and called up the graphs for Voyager’s post D-check performance over several years. "It’s what we call component burn-in," she explained without sounding condescending. "Once all the new components gel with the old ones, we’ll get a boost in efficiency here," she followed the data curve with her outstretched finger. "K-Mom—I mean, Captain Janeway—is well aware of the phenomenon, so if you tell her that we’re at 92% due to component burn-in, she won’t question that. And she’ll be glad you didn’t run to her like Noah did the first time he saw this happen. She was pretty peeved that he didn’t come to me first."

"Good," McCallister sighed with relief. "You know, the Cairo was an Excelsior class vessel. Pretty simple, compared to these Sovereign class ships. I’ve got a lot to learn. Thanks for the lesson. I owe you one," she smiled broadly.

Naomi was startled at the transformation of the Commander’s face when she smiled. "I’ll hold you to it," Naomi noted. "A word of advice?"

"Please," McCallister chuckled.

"Don’t forget to breathe, Commander. K-Mom can smell fear three decks away. She works best with people who aren’t intimidated by her."

"Oh God," McCallister groaned. "But I am intimidated by her," she whispered. "What do I do?"

Naomi felt sorry for the attractive young woman with the earnest expression and dark blonde hair. She considered, then snapped her fingers. "Leave it to me," she grinned with determination. "If you get to know her personally, you’ll see she’s really not so scary. I’ll have a little dinner party in my quarters," she crossed her arms thoughtfully. "You two can get to know each other over a bottle of wine and some good food."

McCallister stiffened. "Oh, no. I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lieutenant. I mean I hardly know you, and a roomful of strangers would just make me self-conscious."

"So we’ll invite some people you know, to even the scales. Do you have any old friends on board? Buddies from the Academy?"

McCallister shook her head slowly, embarrassed. "No one. I was on the Cairo from the time I graduated until I came aboard Voyager. I’ve never known anyone on Voyager before."

Naomi smiled, concluding that McCallister had moved up in rank so quickly, none of her peers were yet at a level to serve on a ship of Voyager’s class. She said sympathetically "Must be tough."

"It’s—an adjustment," she admitted. "That’s why they say ‘it’s lonely at the top’, I suppose," she joked with a twinkle in her eye.

"So no friends on board—I guess you’ll just have to get to know me, then," Naomi decided.

"Excuse me?"

"Before the dinner party. You’ll have to get to know me so you won’t be in a roomful of strangers," she explained patiently. "Do you play Velocity?"

"Yes—"

"Excellent. This afternoon, 1400 hours, court four. Don’t be late," Naomi said firmly, turning to go.

"I—wait!" the Commander called after her.

"Yes?" Naomi came back.

"I—uh—well, thanks," she finished lamely.

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

Commander Kittner McCallister practiced meditative breathing techniques as she sat beside Captain Janeway on the bridge. She found herself resorting to the disciplined, metered inhalation to control her trepidation.

Janeway watched McCallister from her peripheral vision, amused. She couldn’t entirely hide the faint curl at the corners of her pale pink lips. "Commander," she leaned toward her First Officer and said in her low, throaty voice. "Are you going to start chanting?" she asked, straightfaced. "You know, I haven’t had anyone meditate on my bridge since Tuvok was my Security Chief," she teased.

McCallister froze in mid third-eye breath. "My apologies, Captain," she overlooked the glint in Janeway’s eye. "I didn’t mean to disturb you."

Janeway let out a peal of laughter. "It’d take a lot more than a little belly-breathing to bother me," Janeway patted the First Officer’s arm, "unless you’re going to huff and puff and blow my bulkheads down."

McCallister laughed shyly. "No danger of that, Captain."

"Glad to hear it," Janeway smirked. She glanced at the chronometer. "Beta shift should be here anytime. Care to join me in my ready room for a drink, Commander?"

McCallister forced a smile. "I’d like that, Captain," she lied, "but your daughter challenged me to a Velocity match. May I take a raincheck?"

"Damn that Naomi," Janeway griped playfully. "She has an historical habit of monopolizing my First Officer’s time. I see she’s still at it," she noted cheerfully. She inclined her head, appraising the young Commander. "She’s weak coming off her left side. And that’s her only weakness."

"Thanks for the tip," McCallister nodded.

"You’ll need it," Janeway chuckled. "I haven’t beaten her in years, and nobody else on board can beat me, except Seven, once in awhile."

"Oh great," McCallister’s shoulders slouched. "I’ve been hustled."

Janeway consoled her with a nudge. "Go on—don’t keep her waiting. The less time she has to warm up, the better your chances. Have a good evening, Commander."

McCallister suddenly realized she was relaxed, and gave the Captain a genuine smile. "You do the same, Captain," she returned.

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

Kit McCallister’s curly shoulder-length hair clung to her face and throat in ringlets dark with sweat. "My God," she gasped, hanging onto her work out shorts. "Your mother told me you were good," she struggled for air, "but she didn’t tell me you were brutal."

Naomi wiped her lightly beaded forehead gently around her brow protrusions. "Truth is," she bragged, "the only way I can get anyone to play me is to jump on the new crewmembers the second they come aboard."

Kit grinned at her victorious opponent. "Fresh prey?"

"Something like that," Naomi admitted sheepishly.

"And as soon as they get their butts whipped?" Kit panted, grimacing.

"I’m back to programming my competition."

"Wow," Kit breathed raggedly. "Can the computer create a worthy challenger?"

Naomi smiled. "Sure. I just tell it to make me a partner who is capable of beating me."

Kit stretched a complaining hamstring. "I’m toast, Lieutenant. I hurt all over. How’d you get so good?"

Naomi shrugged. "Easy. My mothers are both great athletes. And my best friend was a champion jock at the Academy."

Kit nodded in recognition. "Kieran Thompson, right?"

Naomi smiled fondly. "Yeah. Do you know her?"

"Only by reputation. And of course, her reputation has grown considerably since her skirmish with the Cardassians."

"She’s an amazing woman. So was her wife, B'Elanna Torres," Naomi’s face darkened at the memory of her Klingon mentor. "B'Elanna taught me everything I know about Engineering."

Kit helped herself to a towel and rubbed it over her hair. "It was a shame about her death. You must miss her."

"That’s beyond an understatement," Naomi agreed. "And Kieran—my God, she is just devastated." She started for the exit of the court.

Kit nodded. "And you’re preoccupied, worrying about her," she said in a knowing tone.

"Does it show?" Naomi pulled up short.

"Well, to be honest—I came to Engineering today because I intended to have a talk with you about your obvious distractibility."

Naomi flushed with defensiveness. "You were going to reprimand me? For what?"

Kit flinched. "I didn’t say ‘reprimand’, Lieutenant. I just wanted to check in with you. See if I could help, maybe be a sounding board. But then the only objective evidence of your attention deficit was explained away by your component burn-in theory, so I kept quiet. I don’t have any issues with your job performance," she assured the Chief.

Naomi swallowed her momentary ire. "Good. I know I’ve been less than—focused," she admitted, "and not as vigilant as I could be, but—"

Kit handed her a towel, smiling winningly. "But you could run this ship with your eyes closed, and you didn’t need some wet-behind-the-ears First Officer riding you," she supplied.

Naomi chuckled. "Your words, not mine. But if B'Elanna had been Chief of Engineering, and you’d come hounding her about the engine efficiency, she’d have had a few choice words for your lack of preparedness to handle your job. Component burn-in is a pretty well known aspect of mechanical engineering."

"Ouch," Kit feigned a sharp blow. "Thank you for not rubbing my nose in it," she added sarcastically.

"I hate to add insult to injury," Naomi laughed, draping an arm across the Commander’s shoulders, "but the rule is, loser buys a beer for the winner."

"A fine tradition," Kit commented as they exited the court. "On the Cairo the winner had to buy. Guess my days of slumming are over, unless I learn to play a hell of a lot better."

"Play me again. If you can stand losing a few times, I guarantee your game will get better," she promised.

Kit eyed her warily, liking the way she smiled so freely. "Why do I get the feeling you look at me and see a neon sign blinking ‘FREE BEER’ in giant letters, Lieutenant?"

Naomi laughed as they strolled down the corridor. "First, I’m not an opportunist. Second, would you call me something besides Lieutenant?"

"Of course, Naomi," Kit said apologetically. "My friends call me Kit."

"Okay, Kit, you want to be my sounding board? Let’s go to the Golden Pip and loosen my tongue. Two or three beers, you’ll never shut me up."

Kit grinned affably. "Lead the way."

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

Kit McCallister sat on a dusty hillside, resting her weary legs and back. She stretched the tension from her shoulders where her pack had been for the past hour. Sterling Pass was a vertical ascent of nearly 75 degrees, with little for handholds in the steepest portion of the trail. Kit was sweating profusely, but smiled with satisfaction as the holographic breeze evaporatively cooled her skin. She lay an approving hand on the head of her dog, a spirited Border Collie named Orson.

"Good dog," she complimented the black and white bundle of energy. She wished that she had invited Naomi Wildman to come along with her, now that she was well into the program. She had spent a good deal of time with the Chief Engineer, and liked her very much. The thought had no more escaped her when she heard the mechanical whir of the holodeck door and Naomi Wildman stepped inside the program.

"Cheater," Kit accused, grinning. "It took me over an hour to get up here," she tossed a pebble at the strawberry blonde who waltzed up beside her.

Naomi’s eyes lit up. "Great dog!" she enthused, dropping to her knees and hugging Orson, ruffling through the fur at the pooch’s neck.

"That’s Orson," Kit said by way of introduction. "He’s my good boy, aren’t you?" she reached down to scratch his ears.

Orson lifted his muzzle and wetly licked Naomi’s face. "Nice breath," Naomi giggled. "It smells about as good as your mom," she added, not looking at Kit.

"Hey, who invited you?" Kit playfully launched another stone in Naomi’s direction. "Did you want something?"

Naomi’s stomach filled with butterflies, though she had no idea why. "I thought you might—want some company?" she offered. "Unless you like camping alone?"

Kit regarded her skeptically. "You just got done telling me my hygiene is subpar, but you want to subject yourself to my BO all night?" she demanded, a gleam in her eye. "And I’m not alone—I’m with Orson."

Naomi flushed prettily. "I was teasing. You smell fine."

Kit quirked an eyebrow. "Thanks for the seal of approval, your highness," Kit smarted, gazing out over the canyon, beyond the trail. She heaved a contented sigh. "You’re bound and determined to get me to socialize," she commented. "I must frustrate the hell out of you."

Naomi glanced around at the scenery, breathing in the scent of white pine trees. "You’re definitely a challenge. I’ve never known anyone who spent so much time alone. Have you always been a loner?"

Kit nodded. "Always. I don’t make friends often or easily. But when I do, I tend to keep them for life."

Naomi gazed absently where Kit’s eyes traveled, wondering what the First Officer was looking at. She tried to keep her tone neutral. "A few good friends—that’s a lot to ask of a life, really. But what about lovers? Do you date as rarely as you make friends?"

It was the first time Naomi had asked the intensely private Commander anything personal. Kit laughed blithely. "I’ve dated a lot, but I tend not to connect deeply, or to sustain those situations," she admitted. She turned to her Ktarian companion. "What about you? You seeing anyone?"

Naomi shook her head. "We’re a lot alike in that regard. I don’t seem to—find much common ground, I guess."

Kit tossed another rock into the abyss, listening as it careened off the rocks below. "I imagine having the Captain for a mother, not to mention Seven of Nine, would make most potential suitors skittish. It’d be tough to endure that kind of scrutiny."

"I never considered that," Naomi agreed. "I always assumed I’m the problem."

Kit gave her a lopsided grin. "Doubtful. You’re the subject of an enviable number of speculative comments."

Naomi snorted in disbelief. "Right."

"Believe it, Lieutenant," Kit argued. "I’ve overheard some very appreciative remarks about you. You should be inundated with offers from any number of crewmembers."

Naomi smiled faintly. "I do get offers. Just not necessarily from the people I’d like," she chuckled.

Kit hurled another rock, almost seeming peeved. "You mean Kieran Thompson."

Naomi’s head jerked around. "Excuse me?"

"You talk about her a lot, Naomi. It’s pretty obvious how you feel about her. In fact, I was sure you and she must be lovers, until you just told me you’re not dating anyone."

"When did I ever talk about her?" Naomi challenged.

Kit smirked as she launched another stone. "Oh, let’s see—over drinks the first time we played Velocity, when we went canoeing on the holodeck, the other night at dinner—in fact, almost everytime we spend time together. The point is, Na—anyone who gets to know you is going to be put off by your obvious infatuation with her. So if you’re feeling lonely, you might want to examine what’s truly in your heart."

"I’m sorry Kit—I didn’t mean to be tedious," she offered contritely.

Kit smiled. "You’re not tedious. I just thought you should know what information you’re projecting," she explained.

Naomi sighed, hugging Orson. "To be honest, I don’t know what to think about Kieran," she admitted. "Either she gives off mixed messages, or I’m hearing things I want to hear jumbled in with things I don’t," she mulled it over. "I’ve cared for her as long as I can remember. But there was really no point, until B'Elanna died. Now our whole relationship is this ambiguous questionmark."

Kit nodded, understanding. "But you love her?"

Naomi considered. "Yes, completely. And I think she loves me, to the extent that she’s capable of that emotion at this stage of her life. I just have to be patient, and let her heal in her own time."

Kit opened a canteen of water and offered it to Naomi, who shook her head. Kit helped herself to the cold liquid. "Well, if she has any sense, she’ll realize how lucky she’d be to have you," Kit murmured, staring off into the shifting light of the canyon.

Naomi smiled gratefully. "Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you."

Kit hoisted herself up and reached for her tent stakes. "Sun’s setting. I better get this thing put together, or it’ll be too dark. Do you really want to camp out with me tonight? You’re welcome to stay, as long as you don’t mind sleeping with a 45 pound dog in the tent. Orson can be—um—flatulent, at times."

Naomi hugged the dog again. "That’s okay. So can I," she giggled.

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

Seven of Nine sat in a corner of Naomi’s quarters, plying the Commander with drinks, trying to gain some insight into the young officer’s intentions toward her daughter. Seven was certain Naomi was attracted to Kit, though Naomi had confirmed nothing on the subject, and Seven wanted to know if the two women were involved. Kathryn had scolded her before dinner, telling her to mind her own business, but Seven rarely listened to Kathryn on such matters. Now, with dinner over and the guests mingling, Seven fairly raked the Commander over the coals about her personal life.

"Are you single, Commander?" she bluntly demanded.

"At the moment, yes," Kit chuckled at the Borglike inquiry.

"Do you have any children?" Seven interrogated her. She already knew the answer, but she wanted to gauge the Commander’s reaction.

"Nope. Just Orson."

Seven quirked an elegant eyebrow. "Orson?"

Kit nodded. "My dog."

Seven was totally disarmed. "You have a dog on board?"

"Wouldn’t leave my best buddy behind," Kit replied. "Orson and I have been through it all together. Why does that surprise you, Seven?"

The former drone smiled faintly. "Your service record indicates you are a black belt in several martial arts. You don’t seem like the type who would like furry creatures."

Kit threw her head back and laughed. "You read my service record?" she was mightily amused.

"Absolutely. I always familiarize myself with my colleagues, and I like to evaluate anyone who will be working with my wife," she explained curtly. "Her life may depend upon your competence at any time."

Kit took a sip of beer. "And if I hadn’t been up to your standards?"

Seven smirked. "You would not be on this vessel, Commander."

Kit lofted her drink. "Thank you for your honesty, Seven."

Seven regarded her as if she were a specimen beneath a microscope. "I was pleased that you are so well versed in self-defense. I was less pleased at your inexperience. You’re very young to be in a position of such responsibility. However, Kathryn assured me that she is up to the challenge of seasoning another First Officer," Seven continued. "And she seemed to think that your having served under Edward Jellico was a point in your favor. I believe she referred to him as a grumpy old bastard," Seven reported.

"That’s a fair description," Kit smirked, eyes gleaming with humor. "His idea of fun was making his officers feel about two inches tall. Anyway, Seven, I’ll try not to disappoint you."

"My daughter seems to be rather taken with you, so see that you do not disappoint me," Seven replied seriously, a warning tone in her voice.

"Excuse me?" Kit replied sharply.

"I do not believe I stammered," Seven trained her ice blue eyes squarely on the Commander. "You have obviously made quite an impression on Naomi. See that you are mindful of her heart," Seven demanded.

Kit didn’t appreciate the Borg’s prying. "Not that it’s any of your business," she replied coolly, "but you are mistaken. Naomi is my friend, nothing more. It’s clear to anyone who knows her that she’s in love with Kieran Thompson."

Seven’s eyebrow soared. "Incorrect, Commander. Kieran is a family friend."

Kit sipped at her beer. "Naomi talks incessantly about her, Seven. Naomi is a wonderful woman, and I’d be blind not to notice how attractive she is, but I assure you, her sights are fixed firmly on Kieran. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need another beer," she spun on her heel and marched into the kitchen.

A thin shadow superimposed itself over Seven’s face, and she looked up to find Kathryn peering down at her in dismay. "Seven, I expressly forbade you to invade Commander McCallister’s privacy. Whatever is going on between her and Naomi is none of your business."

Seven stuck her chin out defiantly. "Nothing is going on between them. The Commander is of the impression that Naomi and Kieran are a match of destiny."

Kathryn snorted indignantly. "Naomi has done nothing but talk about ‘Kit this, and Kit that’ for the past three months."

With a nod, Seven added, "And I am certain Kieran is seeing someone else. Geejay told me about it."

Kathryn scowled. "She is? Why hasn’t she told me?"

Seven shrugged. "Actually, Geejay thought Kieran was seeing two women, not just one. Perhaps Kieran has not mentioned it because it is so unusual for her to be promiscuous, and she does not want to be needled by you," Seven’s tone was accusatory.

"Me?" Kathryn pretended to be insulted. "Why would she think I’d needle her?"

Seven took a long swallow of her iced tea before answering. "Because she knows you, as do I. You would be merciless."

"Touché," Kathryn conceded. "The question is, if Kieran is dating again, does Naomi know?"

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

Geejay Janeway, her short blonde hair spiked and wild atop her head, grinned into the scanner that was transmitting her image to her sister. "Hey Na!" she greeted the Ktarian Lieutenant. "How’s life aboard ship?"

Naomi smiled warmly at her sibling. "Exhausting, as usual. How’s the Academy?"

"Same old, same old. I finished up the semester with marks that K-Mom would be proud of. Next term looks like it’s going to be a bitch."

"Partying much?" Naomi inquired teasingly.

Geejay nodded. "Every chance I get. I’ve been having a ball, to tell the truth."

Naomi grinned. "Well, considering your gene pool, you probably never need to study. I wish the Academy had been so easy for me," she griped. "Is KT still meeting you every Friday for lunch?"

"Yeah. She seems to be doing pretty well. Has she told you anything about the juicy rumor going around about her? Denying or confirming it?" she added, a devilish smirk plastered on her face.

Naomi sank into a chair at her workstation. "Kieran hasn’t said anything to me that I would classify as juicy," Naomi said. "When I talked to her last, she mostly talked about physical therapy, her new ship, and some lecture she was going to give to your anthropology class."

Geejay’s face fell. Oh shit, she doesn’t know. She considered for a moment. "Na, how do things stand with you and Kieran?"

Naomi shrugged. "Same as always, I suppose. When I left Earth, we didn’t make any promises, but it was understood that when she’s ready for a relationship, it will most likely be with me. But she hasn’t exactly told me she’s ready, either," Naomi admitted. "Why?"

Geejay swallowed hard. "I hate to be the one to tell you this," she ground her back teeth. "It should be coming from Kieran."

"Tell me what, Geej?" Naomi tried to squelch the sinking feeling in her gut. "Out with it."

"Kieran," Geejay chose her words carefully, "is seeing someone, Na."

Naomi’s heart lurched in her chest. "That’s not possible," she insisted. "She would have told me. She knows how I feel about her. She’d have said something, Geejay," Naomi argued.

"I’m sorry, Na," Geejay’s eyes softened to pale blue. "But if you don’t believe me, ask her yourself. I saw her with someone the other night. I was at a bar, and I snuck out before she could bust me for being in there. But I saw her sitting with some redhead in a corner booth, and they were making out. I think the girl was probably a cadet—I know she wasn’t very old."

"So the juicy rumor you mentioned is about this girl?" Naomi tried to hide how hurt she was.

"Actually, no. I know for a fact about that girl. The rumor is that she is also dating a professor—my anthropology professor, and that the professor doesn’t know about the cadet she’s seeing," Geejay explained.

"That doesn’t sound like Kieran," Naomi puzzled over it.

"No, but Kieran’s been through a lot. Maybe the accident on the Sagan changed her. She had a lot of brain damage, after all," Geejay posited logically.

"Listen, kiddo," Naomi cut the conversation off, "I have some things I need to attend to. Can I contact you later this week?"

Geejay shrugged. "Sure. But Na—don’t tell Kieran I saw her in that bar. I could get in a lot of trouble for having been in there, being underage."

"Don’t worry," Naomi assured her. "I won’t get you in trouble."

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

Naomi Wildman met her mother in the arboretum, where the two women walked along a tree-lined path that felt much like a park. Naomi held Kathryn’s arm, and they talked softly as they wandered through.

"Has she told you anything, K-Mom?"

Kathryn nodded grimly. "She admitted that she’s dating again. She wouldn’t say much else, though I wheedled and cajoled," she said mildly. "Are you okay with that?"

Naomi drew a shuddering breath. "I’m surprised. I thought—"

"Thought what, honey?" Kathryn urged her gently.

"I thought Kieran and I had an understanding, of sorts. When I left Earth, she wasn’t ready to think about a relationship, not so soon after B'Elanna’s death. But I thought when she was ready, she would explore that option with me, first, and I was waiting for her to be ready. She did tell me not to wait, but she also gave me the impression that if she ever was able to be in a relationship again, it would be with me," Naomi explained sadly. "I can’t believe she’s seeing someone else."

"I’m sorry, sweetie," Kathryn patted her arm. "I can’t make excuses for her, and only you know what sort of understanding you two had. But I’m sorry as I can be that she hurt you."

Naomi shrugged, her eyes misty. "I’m not certain I have the right to be hurt. It’s not like she ever told me she loves me, or wants to be with me. But I really thought, eventually, she’d realize she does—but I guess I was wrong."

"So what now?" Kathryn prodded her.

Naomi forced a smile. "Life goes on. It’s her loss," she added, bolstering herself mentally with that thought.

"It is, indeed," Janeway agreed, smiling. "Though you should talk to Kieran yourself. Let her at least explain," Kathryn tried to help out her best friend.

"No, I’m not going to ask her. She talks to me several times a week, and she’s never said a word about this. Maybe she’s trying to hide it from me. Maybe she wants to protect me. It doesn’t matter. She hasn’t been honest with me. That’s what counts."

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

Kieran Thompson’s face appeared almost normal as it materialized on the view screen of her workstation. Naomi Wildman smiled reflexively, feeling a faint flutter in her chest at the sight of the woman she had always had a crush on.

"KT!" she called out. "You look so great!"

Kieran pretended to puff up her chest. "You like my new eye?"

Naomi nodded enthusiastically. "It looks just like your old one. I can’t tell it’s artificial at all," she nodded her head in admiration.

"Yeah, and it’s a lot more efficient than the flesh and blood one. It’s like they replaced tissue with a super computer that my brain can’t keep up with. It’s quite an adjustment."

"I can only imagine," Naomi smiled broadly, her keen mind calculating the specifics that would be involved in creating such a device.

They exchanged pleasantries and caught up on each other’s lives, but in all the small talk, no matter how Naomi tried to lead Kieran, no information was forthcoming about Kieran’s recent love life. After several minutes, Naomi finally gave in to her curiosity.

"Kieran, can I ask you something?" she said with an air of timidity.

Kieran chuckled. "Na, this is me. You can ask me anything."

"Do you—miss me?" she asked in a barely audible voice.

Kieran’s heart clenched in her chest at the vulnerability in Naomi’s demeanor. "Oh, sweetie, of course I do. What’s wrong?"

Naomi studied her hands distractedly. "I don’t know," she dissembled.

Kieran contemplated the Ktarian’s pained countenance. "How can I help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong?"

Naomi decided to test Kieran’s intentions in the only way that she could without confronting her directly. "How would you feel if I—were to start dating someone on Voyager?" she inquired hesitantly.

Kieran took a deep, slow breath before responding. "If there’s someone you want to be with, Na, then you should. You know I would always tell you to take your happiness where you find it."

Naomi’s eyes clouded. "I think I knew you’d say that," her chin quivered.

"Don’t hold back on my account, okay?" she urged her, though it cut her deeply to do so. "I want you to be happy, honey. You know that."

Naomi bit her bottom lip. "It’s not what I wanted to hear, KT."

Kieran’s deep brown eyes filled, the conflicting emotions evident in her expression. "What did you want to hear?"

Naomi hesitated for the longest time. "I wanted you to tell me to wait for you, and not date anyone else."

Kieran hung her head. "I’m sorry."

"I wanted you to beg me to give you more time."

"I can’t do that, Na. It wouldn’t be fair. You know I love you, and I always will. But don’t make your future contingent upon mine," Kieran instructed firmly, though the sight of Naomi’s anguish made her want to take it back immediately.

Naomi wanted desperately to ask about Kieran’s alleged lovers, but her pride kept her from speaking up. Kieran considered telling Naomi about the two women she was seeing, to explain that neither meant anything to her, in case Naomi had heard the rumors, but she decided against it. The relationships would pass soon enough, and there was no point in injuring the sensitive young woman over casual affairs that had no bearing on her feelings for Naomi. And so they said nothing.

"I suppose I should go, KT," Naomi decided after a lengthy silence. "Be well."

"And you," Kieran replied, touching the screen. "I’ll be in touch."

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

Naomi Wildman sat in the Captain’s ready room, sipping a cup of hot raspberry tea. "I didn’t ask her directly. But I got an answer in no uncertain terms," she explained to Kathryn and Seven.

Seven stiffened protectively. "Perhaps Captain Thompson needs a good talking to," she snarled, her ice blue eyes darkening.

"No," Naomi answered forcefully. "Absolutely not. It’s over, Borg-Mom. Whatever I thought might be, it isn’t going to happen. She told me to find my happiness, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do."

"Good for you," Kathryn encouraged her. Then to Naomi’s surprise, she added, "I think Commander McCallister would be an excellent match for you."

Naomi blushed. "I think so too, though I can’t believe you’d say so. I hope Kit agrees."

Kathryn studied her lovely eldest daughter, pursing her lips. "Ordinarily, I’d keep my mouth shut," she admitted, "but you talk about her so much, and I really do think she’s an extraordinary young woman."

Seven piped up. "I believe Commander McCallister has only been waiting for you to be truly available, Naomi. When I probed her intentions at your party, she told me she thought you were in love with Kieran. Once she knows that is not the case, there will be little to deter her."

Kathryn snorted. "Seven means when she interrogated the poor woman," she admonished her wife.

"Borg-Mom," Naomi instructed in a warning tone, "stay out of this. No threatening to assimilate her, no icy glares and pointed questions, no implied threats. Understood?"

Seven gazed contritely at the ground. "Yes, Naomi," she replied softly, duly chastised. She raised her head momentarily, saying brightly "Perhaps I should invite her to dinner."

"No!" Kathryn and Naomi answered in chorus.

Seven pouted. "You never let me have any fun," she complained.

Naomi crossed her arms, glaring.

Seven rolled her eyes. "All right," she relented.

Kathryn gave her a dire look. "I mean it, Seven. Kit’s a damned good First Officer. Don’t do anything to make her ask for a transfer," she scolded the former drone.

"Yes, dear," Seven replied obediently.

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

Kit McCallister was overjoyed to find herself with a three-point advantage over Naomi Wildman as the Velocity computer signaled match point. Back and forth they went, and for the first time, Kit actually saw Naomi sweating and working to keep pace. When the disc hit Naomi and the computer announced that Kit had won, the elated Commander actually jumped up and down with glee.

"I can’t believe it!" she shouted. "I WON!"

Naomi shook her head. She couldn’t believe it either. "Congratulations," she shook Kit’s hand. "Looks like you get to collect back some of the beer you’ve been buying me."

Kit hugged her energetically. "Thanks!" she lifted the Ktarian off the floor and swung her around. "Now that I’m done gloating, is everything okay?" she gripped Naomi’s shoulders as she deposited her on the ground.

Naomi nodded. "Of course. Why?" she lied, thinking of her conversation with Kieran and how angry she had grown since then over Kieran’s dishonesty.

Kit shrugged, shoving her phaser into the pocket of her gym shorts. "I dunno. You seem—preoccupied. Is something bothering you?"

Naomi tapped the exit controls, heading toward the Golden Pip. "No. You beat me fair and square. Give yourself credit."

Kit’s chest swelled with pride. "I did, didn’t I?"

"You did," Naomi echoed. "I told you if you didn’t mind losing for awhile, your game would improve. But don’t tell K-Mom you beat me, or she’ll challenge you to a match. She’ll do the one-upmanship number until she breaks her neck trying to win," Naomi warned. "And she is a very sore loser."

"Thanks for the warning," Kit grinned at her companion. "You were right about something else," she added, opening the door for Naomi and gliding into the lounge. "She is good to work for, now that I know her better."

Naomi signaled the waiter for the usual as they sat down. "Yeah. And I know she really likes you, too."

Kit’s head jerked up. "She does?"

Naomi nodded. "Definitely."

"How can you tell?" Kit pressed her, leaning across the table.

Naomi blushed. "I—I just can," she tried to cover herself.

"How?" Kit hissed beneath her breath, eyes intent as she reached for Naomi’s hand and squeezed it to emphasize her need to know.

Naomi glanced around to be certain no one was listening. "Because she keeps telling me I should be going out with you, now that Kieran is seeing someone else."

Kit took her beer from the waiter and handed the other to Naomi. She was stunned into silence. Naomi squirmed in her seat, waiting for the Commander to respond. Kit averted her eyes and pretended to be quite interested in her drink. She was suddenly self-conscious, and aware that she was holding Naomi’s hand. She withdrew her own abruptly.

"Oh boy," Naomi muttered, "I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth. Would you like me to leave?"

Kit glanced up, uncertain. "How do you feel about Kieran seeing someone else?" she asked faintly.

Naomi turned the question over in her mind. "I was hurt, at first. For starters, she still hasn’t told me that she is seeing someone. I heard it from my sister. When I tried to get her to admit it, she evaded the issue, and that pissed me off," she related darkly, her lips set in an angry line. "But in retrospect, she’s been through a lot. For all I know, she’s a completely different person than the Kieran I’ve known and loved. So I am trying to understand how this could happen. I’m not real happy about her hiding the fact from me, but I also trust that she has a good reason. For whatever reason, she isn’t confiding in me," Naomi admitted wistfully. "I guess I was reading more into her intentions than I should have."

"Are you okay?" Kit asked with genuine concern.

Naomi nodded. "Yeah, I am. I mean, I care about her, and I always will. But she’s made her decision. No arguing with that. I’m not one to follow her around with a perpetually unrequited love. I’m not that self-destructive."

Kit nodded slowly, taking in the information. After a long silence, she asked "And how do you feel about your mother’s—er—recommendations?" Kit could barely meet Naomi’s eyes as she voiced the question.

"K-Mom has never, in my whole life, pushed me in anyone’s direction. The fact that she’s doing it in your case speaks volumes," she toyed with her beer bottle contemplatively. "I hadn’t seriously given it much thought, because I was so angry with Kieran, I was afraid I’d be pursuing you for the wrong reasons, and that wouldn’t be fair to you," she lowered her voice, returning Kit’s lingering gaze.

"The wrong reasons?" Kit asked gently.

"To strike out at Kieran," Naomi explained. "I had to be sure that wasn’t my motivation." She drew a nervous breath. "And I have no idea if you—would even be remotely open to the idea, if my motives were proper," she added haltingly.

Kit reached across the table again, taking Naomi’s hand. "I’d like to show you how open I am to that idea," she flirted, her voice deepening. "Come walk with me?" she invited, standing up and tugging Naomi with her.

Naomi’s heart was thundering in her chest. "Where?"

Kit smiled, pulling her along. "You’ll see."

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

The crystal cliffs of Quahmech stretched for miles before them, the faint glow of sunset sparkling in every peak, reflected in the sheer faces of the canyons. Kit held Naomi’s hand gingerly as they strolled along the path, a winding trail bordering a sharp drop into the abyss below. The paintbrush sweep of hues dappling the surrounding landscape demanded the full appreciation of both women.

"This is fabulous," Naomi breathed. "I’ve read about this place."

Kit smiled. "I’ve been there. The Cairo did some surveying. There was a theory, which we disproved, that the Crystalline Entity might have originated on Quahmech. I’ve never seen anyplace more beautiful in all the Alpha Quadrant," Kit’s tone was reverent.

"I’d love to see it," Naomi squeezed Kit’s hand, ambling down the trail. "Maybe someday you can take me there."

Kit pulled them up short, taking Naomi’s other hand, facing her. "I’d love to be the one to show it to you," she said softly, peering into hazel eyes. "Listen," she whispered, straining her ears. "Hear that?" she asked excitedly.

A faint tinkling, like the sound of a thousand wind chimes, sounded in the canyon below them, the melodic tones increasing in volume as the breeze filtered through the crystal rock formations. It seemed to have a rhythm, and Kit started to move with it, taking Naomi with her. "See?" she smiled brightly, leading them. "You can actually dance to it."

Naomi giggled and let the Commander twirl her around, then allowed herself to be caught up in a firm embrace. "It’s wonderful," she agreed, letting the resonant chiming lift her spirits.

Kit held her close as they followed the notes with their feet. Then the wind died as quickly as it had blown through, and the music dissipated with a gusting sigh. They stood there for several moments, hugging each other before Kit reluctantly stepped away from Naomi. "Shall we keep walking?" she asked softly.

Naomi nodded, slipping her fine-boned fingers into Kit’s hand. "This place is surreal," she murmured appreciatively.

"I’ve got a few other programs I’d like to share with you," Kit mentioned. "One in particular I hope you’ll like."

"What is it?" Naomi pressed shoulder to shoulder as they walked.

"It’s one of my favorite pastimes," she answered mysteriously. "Very high adrenaline," she added.

"Sounds intriguing. We could take turns sharing our best programs with each other," Naomi offered. "That ought to tell us a lot about one another."

Kit grinned. "What does this program tell you about me?" she asked.

Naomi squinted in concentration. "Hmmmm," she replied, thinking hard. "It tells me you appreciate beauty and exotic places," she began. "And it tells me you like to be actively involved in exploring things, not passive," she continued.

"How do you figure that?" Kit’s lips quirked at the edges.

"If you were passive, we’d be sitting on a ledge, overlooking this vista, not hiking through it," Naomi contended. "I also think you’re a romantic, at heart."

Kit scoffed at that. "Where do you see that in this program?"

Naomi smiled up at her. "Of all the programs you could’ve run, you picked this one first. This is obviously a very special place for you, and the solitude and melodic quality of the elements make for a very intimate experience."

Kit blushed faintly, but acceded. "Do you like it?"

Naomi stopped on the trail and faced her companion. "Very much. Thank you," she responded, sliding her arms around Kit’s back. Kit reciprocated by resting her hands on Naomi’s waist, peering down into hazel eyes that reflected the colorful cliffs. Naomi was vaguely aware that Kit was the slightest bit taller than her, and decided she liked the vantage point it gave her.

Still lost in Naomi’s eyes, Kit finally stepped back, breaking contact. "I have to be on my way," she said regretfully. "I’m sorry."

"You do?" Naomi was clearly disappointed.

Kit nodded. "Orson. Time to feed him. He gets surly if I’m late," she smiled softly, still unable to take her eyes from the gorgeous woman shrouded by a halo of refracted light.

"I could come with you," Naomi offered. "Unless it would be an intrusion."

The offer hung in the air, ripe with meaning. It was late, and if Naomi went home with Kit, she very likely would not leave Kit’s quarters until morning.

Kit hesitated. "I think I’d like to take this slowly," she sounded apologetic. "If that’s not too much to ask."

Naomi’s heart melted. "It’s actually very sweet," she reached for Kit’s hands. "Thank you."

"For what?" Kit was confused.

"For not being like everyone else," Naomi explained with a shrug.

Kit held her hand as they left the holodeck, leading her down the corridor. "Everyone else is like—what?" she asked quietly as they moved toward the turbo-lift.

Naomi frowned, searching for the words. "Too eager, I guess," she finally settled on. "No one has ever turned down spending the night with me," she chuckled, a bit chagrined.

"It wasn’t an easy call," Kit put an arm around her. "You’re a lot to resist."

Naomi blushed profusely, but was immensely pleased at that statement. They entered the turbo-lift, which was packed with Gamma shift crewmembers on their way to work. Kit jumped away from Naomi, withdrawing her arm, though it was not lost on the crowd that the First Officer had been walking intimately tangled with the Chief Engineer. They grinned across the press of people, not speaking, but anxious to be away from prying eyes. "Deck three," Kit ordered the computer, still smiling at Naomi. As they exited together, Kit wrapped an arm around Naomi’s waist again.

"I’d kill to hear the gossip on that lift about now," Kit chuckled as they strode toward her door. "I had fun tonight," she keyed in the access code. "Can I beat you at Velocity again sometime?" her eyes twinkled with challenge.

"Doubtful," Naomi sounded like Seven of Nine. "But you can try."

Kit gathered Naomi into a warm embrace, kissing her with the faintest brush of her lips, entirely too briefly for Naomi’s liking. "Sleep well. I’ll see you soon."

Naomi nodded mutely as Kit disappeared behind her door, and Orson leapt into her arms. "Lucky dog," she muttered, turning to go.

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

Captain Kieran Thompson reclined lazily in an overstuffed chair, eyes slitted, slouching.

"No sleeping on my time," Deanna Troi tossed a pillow at her patient.

"I’m not sleeping. I’m relaxing to give you better access to my inner-self," Kieran fired the pillow back, grateful that her arm was behaving reasonably well today.

"I’m still not clear on this situation with Naomi," Deanna pressed on. "You’re dating two women. You haven’t told her that. You pushed her to date someone else, yet you proclaim to love her and to want a future with her, which you also haven’t told her," Deanna recited.

"That about sums it up," Kieran replied, shading her eyes with her left arm and yawning.

Deanna was growing impatient. "Can you elaborate on how you think there’s a chance in hell that this behavior will result in what you want with Naomi?" she was beyond perplexed.

"It might not," Kieran admitted. "I’m not ready emotionally to be in a committed relationship, Deanna. I can handle superficial dating, like with Eilish and Jamie. That’s about it. I didn’t tell Naomi about them because there’s no point. Neither woman means anything to me in terms of my future. Naomi does."

"If she does, then why haven’t you told her that?" Deanna insisted.

"I’m not ready yet. It isn’t fair to her to tell her I love her if I’m not ready to deliver on all that statement implies. It would be misleading. As for telling her to date, how could I tell her not to?" Kieran implored, hands extended.

Deanna nodded. "But what if she falls in love with someone else?" she tapped her stylus against the data PADD.

Kieran shrugged. "I don’t believe that will happen. Naomi is very steadfast in her loyalties. If she’s dating, it’s not any more significant than my dating Jamie or Eilish," she replied with calm confidence. Seeing the look on Deanna’s face, she sat the recliner upright. "What?"

Deanna shook her head. "That’s very arrogant of you."

Kieran laughed abruptly. "I’m a starship Captain. Arrogance is part of the package. Besides, I know Naomi. After everything we’ve been through together, she’s not going to give up on me."

Deanna frowned pensively. "I hope you’re not being foolish, Kieran."

Kieran folded her hands quietly. "Deanna, come on. I’ve lost my wife and my only child. Do you really think the Universe is cruel enough to take Naomi from me too?"

"Yes, I do," Deanna admitted.

"Pessimist," Kieran accused. "You’re supposed to give your patients hope, Counselor, not a dour outlook on life."

"I’m supposed to make an honest assessment. My advice? Tell Naomi how you feel. Tell her now."

Kieran smiled. "You worry too much, Deanna."

*******

"I promise, it’s safe," Kit assured Naomi as they climbed the platform of the 15 story roller coaster.

Naomi regarded her skeptically. "I know the holodeck safety protocols will keep me from dying, but it looks so—so—rickety, and primitive," she objected.

"Exactly. That’s half the fun," Kit contended, taking Naomi’s hand and stepping into the wooden wheeled car. "And it is primitive. It’s based on a design from the 20^th century."

Naomi’s eyes widened as the chain beneath the four-wheeled death trap snagged the tow bar beneath the coaster car and jerked it into forward motion. When the pulley mechanism hesitated as they ascended the first hill, Naomi squealed and grabbed Kit’s arm. "We’re going to roll backwards," she shouted over the grinding and clacking of the machinery.

Kit just grinned. "No we won’t. But you can hang onto me if you’re worried," she waggled her eyebrows, taunting her companion.

Naomi gulped as the car crested the hill and coasted to a near halt at the apex, that no-man’s land that lies between the forward momentum and the downward pull of gravity. The car inched forward toward its first free-fall. "You don’t have to scare me into your arms, you know," Naomi groused, sliding further down into the hard padding of the seat. Then the center of gravity shifted and the car groaned. They plummeted down the sheer incline of the track, the wheels complaining against the rails almost as loudly as Naomi’s shrieks of terror.

Kit threw back her head and laughed hysterically, eyes shining with excitement as the car whipped through a loop-the-loop turn that rotated them like a corkscrew as they shot toward the next hill. Naomi glared at her companion as her stomach leapt into her throat.

"I’m—going—to—kill—you!" she shouted over the rush of air and clamor of metal against wheel.

By the third hill, Naomi’s complexion was decidedly more pink than green, and the Ktarian was laughing instead of screaming. Kit wrapped an arm around her shoulders, satisfied that her holodeck program was a hit. No sooner had the ride come to a halt than the exuberant engineer jumped up to run to the boarding zone, dragging Kit by the hand. "Let’s go again!" she called out breathlessly.

Kit laughed happily and followed in Naomi’s wake. "Okay, but only twice per coaster, or we’ll never get to ride them all," she advised.

Naomi hugged her impetuously. "There are more?"

Kit nodded, grinning. "Thirteen others," she informed her. "It’s kind of a hobby of mine to design them. I haven’t killed anybody yet," she teased, smiling fondly at the strawberry blonde.

"You designed this?" Naomi was flabbergasted. "Truly?"

Kit nodded. "It’s a commercially available program—it’s not like I did the physics myself. I just worked out the design within the parameters of the program. Next time I finish one, I’ll let you test it with me, if you dare," she flicked a challenging eyebrow.

"You’re on," Naomi squeezed her hand. "Come on—we’re wasting holodeck time," she ordered, running the last flight of stairs to the boarding platform.

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

Naomi Wildman maneuvered her kayak alongside Commander McCallister’s, smiling. "This is where it gets good," she advised her companion.

Surrounded by towering monoliths of ice that stretched skyward in varying shades of blue, the two women sat in silence on the glassy water, waiting. Suddenly, the water ahead of them rippled, then erupted in a giant plume as a killer whale breached and leapt out of the cold, clear water. The pod surfaced momentarily, and Kit and Naomi had to use their paddles to steady themselves in the displacement of the bay waters as dorsal fins and flukes appeared. "Oh my God," Kit breathed in awe of the black and white behemoths. "They’re huge."

"You should see some of the baleen whales," Naomi said quietly. "These are toothed whales, and they don’t come much bigger than this family. But the baleen whales can be ten times their size. I have other programs with fin whales, humpbacks, grays—each is interesting in its own right. But I love the dolphins the best," she smiled softly. "I have one program where we can swim with them."

Kit reached across the form fitting craft and took Naomi’s hand. "Thanks for sharing this one with me. It’s great."

Naomi kissed the back of Kit’s hand. "I thought you might like it, after we did your Barrier Reef program. We should do that one again sometime. I loved seeing all those fish."

"I have three or four others I’d like to show you first," Kit squeezed her hand. "Since you took me to a cold climate, I thought I’d return the favor."

Naomi nodded enthusiastically. "I love snow," she noted.

"Then you’ll love my inner-tubing program. It’s like a roller coaster with no safety belt and no track."

Naomi laughed happily. "Let’s try that one next."

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

Late nights at the Golden Pip there was dancing. Naomi and Kit met Kathryn and Seven for dinner there one evening, and the foursome lingered over drinks and dessert until the dancing began. Seven was delighted, and instantly dragged Kathryn out to log some cheek-to-cheek time.

"Can you dance?" Kit asked shyly of Naomi. "I’m willing to try, but I’ve been told I’m pretty bad at it."

Naomi grinned, thinking of how B'Elanna used to skewer Kieran over her two left feet. "I’m a marginal dancer. I try to stick to slow songs," she waggled her eyebrows. "That way, if I step on your foot, I can tender an appropriate apology."

Kit took her hand and stood up. "I like the sound of that," she flirted.

The young couple moved in time with the music, but their focus upon one another was so keen, they fell out of time repeatedly. Neither noticed.

Kathryn and Seven watched them from across the floor, smiling at each other. "They seem very happy," Seven observed.

"Yes, and it’s about time for Naomi," Kathryn agreed.

"Have you told Kieran?" Seven wondered.

"No. It’s not my place. If Naomi wants to tell her, that’s up to Naomi. I’m still a little angry with Kato for how she’s dealt with Na," Kathryn admitted. "Have you said anything?"

Seven shook her head. "I don’t believe Geejay has, either. I’m afraid Kieran may be taken by surprise."

Kathryn watched as Naomi and Kit embraced, and it did her heart good to see them so plainly falling in love. "I think Naomi will say something to her, if she hasn’t already. I doubt she could hold back the news, she is so excited about this relationship. Surely she’ll share it with Kato."

"Perhaps," Seven agreed.

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

Naomi had placed the subspace communique to her oldest friend, thinking she might tell her about Kit McCallister. Kieran Thompson answered the hail, smiling pleasantly, if a little out of breath. Naomi could tell that the older woman had hastily thrown on a robe, and her hair was tousled. Considering it was the middle of a Saturday afternoon, Naomi thought it was odd that Kieran wouldn’t be dressed.

"Hey Na!" she greeted her friend. "You look well," she noted. "How are you?"

Naomi studied Kieran’s face momentarily, which was quite flushed. It occurred to her that Kieran had been in bed, but not alone. "I’m fine," she answered, flustered by Kieran’s appearance. "Is this a bad time?"

"It’s never a bad time," Kieran lied unconvincingly. "I do have company, though. Can I call you back?"

"Sure. Maybe when you do, you can tell me all about her," she encouraged the Captain.

Kieran caught the undertone in Naomi’s reply. "She’s my physical trainer," Kieran replied truthfully. "We’re working on my rehab."

Naomi grinned facetiously. "Sure, KT. You look like you’ve been working out, all right."

Kieran ran her hand distractedly through her hair, self-conscious and not certain how to respond without confirming Naomi’s suspicions. "I’ll call you later, sweetie. Take care," was all she said.

Naomi sat back in her chair, shaking her head. "Why is she trying to hide this from me?" she wondered aloud. "Does she think I’m blind?"

If there was any part of Naomi that still yearned for Kieran Thompson, the sight of the former Counselor with that just-laid look silenced the yearning completely and permanently. Naomi smiled softly, thinking about Kit, and decided it was all for the best. Everything happened for a reason.

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

Kit McCallister kicked the snow off her booted feet, shouldered a load of firewood, and pushed through the cabin door to find Naomi curled up on the rug in front of the fire. Naomi looked up at her as she came in, shivering from the snow that had fallen down the back of her parka.

"Nice storm you programmed," she commented, depositing the logs in a pile beside the hearth. "I’m freezing."

"I made cocoa," Naomi offered, standing to help Kit out of her snow gear. She slipped the parka off and hung it on a peg on the wall, where it could dry out with a little help from the fire. "You’re damp, sweetie. Better sit next to the fire for a few minutes, or you’ll catch a chill."

Kit grinned at her protective air. "No, you’ll keep me warm," she took Naomi in her arms and kissed her soundly. When they were both breathless, she pulled away, leaning her forehead against Naomi’s. "See? I’m overheated already," she teased, her golden eyes twinkling.

She kicked off her boots while Naomi retrieved the cocoa. "I had fun today," she informed her girlfriend. "Sledding is a blast. I haven’t gone in years. My grandmother lives near a hill that is really steep, and K-Mom took me there every Christmas we spent at Gran’s."

Kit smiled, taking her mug and pulling Naomi down beside her. "Sounds perfect. We didn’t celebrate Christmas in my family. Terraformers don’t have a lot of holidays. It’s just work, work, and more work."

Naomi gave her a pitying look. "I can’t wait to take you to Gran’s. She’s going to love you. And you’ll love the farm. K-Mom promised we’d be back for Christmas this year, and I know Borg-Mom will hold her to it. You’ll have a Christmas like you’ve never seen," her eyes glowed with happiness, thinking about it. "We’ll make cookies, and wrap presents, and go caroling, and Gran always drags us to church on Christmas Eve—not my favorite part, but the singing is fun. Aunt Phoebe will be there, too. You’ll like her. She’s so eccentric and amusing."

"Na," Kit slipped an arm around her shoulders, "don’t you think you’d better clear it with your family first? I mean, you sound like it’s just understood that I’ll be there. Shouldn’t you ask?"

"You’re practically family," Naomi argued. "K-Mom has already talked about taking you home with us. She knows how much you mean to me."

Kit’s expression softened. "She does, huh?"

Naomi leaned closer to kiss her then, the cocoa forgotten. Outside, the blanketing stillness of the falling snow provided the perfect backdrop for a romantic evening, and Naomi deepened their kiss, tangling her fingers in Kit’s curls. She pushed gently on Kit’s shoulders, and they leaned back against the sofa, lips searching heatedly. Kit felt her pulse quickening, her breaths shortening, her body relenting. Naomi felt her surrender, felt the certainty of it, heard the soft sound of acquiescence that escaped Kit’s throat, and reached for the buttons on her flannel shirt. Nimble fingers worked the buttons free, and Kit sighed into their kiss as Naomi smoothed her hands beneath the thick combed cloth.

Kit was thinking they should get off the floor, maybe retreat to the bedroom of the cabin or at least, move to the couch. She didn’t want their first time to be on a cold, hard surface, even if it was sort of romantic to make love in front of a fire. Naomi’s hands made her lose her train of thought momentarily, as she felt them cupping the swell of her breasts. She was just about to say something when the holodeck chime sounded.

"Holodeck time is elapsed," the program announced.

Naomi groaned in frustration. "Damn it," she swore, pulling away. "You’d better button that up again, before the next group comes trooping in."

"Computer," Kit fumbled at her shirt, "remove the privacy seal," she ordered. "Na, we’ll come back and do this again sometime," she offered apologetically. "I didn’t realize we’d spent such a long time sledding." She stood to leave, offering a hand up to Naomi. "Don’t be mad," she pulled her up and into her arms. "We have all the time in the world."

Naomi frowned. "I guess," she agreed reluctantly. "Can we go back to your quarters? Maybe continue this there?"

Kit kissed her gently. "I wish we could, but I’ve got to do a surprise inspection. Your mother’s orders," she explained. "Tell you what. Come home with me. I’ll get into uniform, and you can hang out at my place until I get back. Is that a good enough compromise?"

Naomi smiled sadly. "Actually, I’ve got some departmental reports to work on. I’ve been putting them off all week."

Kit took her hand and they turned the holodeck over to the patiently waiting Ensigns outside. "All yours," Kit said politely as they left. Then smiling fondly at Naomi, she said softly "I guess I’m a bad influence on you. Procrastination has never been one of your faults."

Naomi squeezed her hand, gazing up at her. "No, you’re not. I just have a shifting sense of priorities. I’m trying not to be quite so—persnickety," she explained.

Kit walked her to her quarters, stopping outside. "Don’t get too relaxed," she warned. "You know how your mother always pushes the people closest to her. If she senses you’re losing your intensity—"

Naomi nodded understanding. "She’ll be like a shark who smells blood in the water. I know. I’m being careful. Nothing has been late, yet."

"Good," Kit leaned down to kiss her good-bye. "I’ll see you tomorrow, then," she murmured, hugging Naomi close. "It’d be so much easier if you didn’t feel so damned good," she complained.

Naomi nuzzled against Kit’s throat, kissing her provocatively there. "Keep that in mind. And see me again, soon," she said in a throaty voice.

Kit felt her knees weaken, and had to get a grip on her desire. She carefully pushed Naomi away. "Lieutenant," she acknowledged formally, "have a good night."

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

 

Naomi Wildman warmed her booted feet by the generous campfire, head thrown back in rapture at the sounds from the crackling flames and the dark, cool woods around her. Jason Montgomery sat strumming his guitar, while three members of the camping party warbled to his accompaniment.

Kit McCallister tossed another log on the fire, then rejoined Naomi on the checkered blanket they were sharing. "Geez, you guys, don’t quit your dayjobs," she snickered at the partially tone-deaf quartet.

Jason stopped playing. "Let’s hear you do better," he challenged.

"Not me," Kit put up a restraining hand. "I know better. But you should hear Naomi. She sings like an angel," Kit complimented the instantly embarrassed Ktarian.

Naomi scowled at her date. "You exaggerate. Go on you guys, you sound fine," she scolded Kit.

Kit leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "You do so sing like an angel. And they are awful," she argued.

Naomi touched Kit’s face, brushing her lips over the ruddy cheek closest to her. "Thank you, and don’t be so critical."

Kit quirked an eyebrow suggestively. "You could try to shut me up," she offered, chuckling.

Naomi giggled, pushing Kit’s broad shoulders down on the blanket, covering the grinning Commander’s body with her own. "Yes, I could," she grinned wickedly, kissing Kit forcefully.

Kit lingered over the insistent sensation, letting herself surrender to it momentarily. When Naomi pulled away, smiling down at her, Kit said "They really stink. I just can’t seem to stop myself from pointing it out."

Naomi kissed her again, which is exactly what Kit wanted her to do.

Sheila Markson pressed against her date, Phil Kite, and murmured "I think they have the right idea." Phil pulled her into his lap, kissing her softly.

When Naomi sat back up, she pulled Kit back up with her, only to find that their companions were mostly engaged in intimacies that were best kept private. "See what you started?" Naomi accused.

Kit waggled her eyebrows at the playful Ktarian. "I didn’t say you should kiss me to shut me up," she logically pointed out. "That was your idea. Not that it was a bad choice of methods, mind you."

"It worked," Naomi shot back.

Kit eased around behind her, back propped against a log, arms around Naomi’s torso, so that they were both facing the fire. She buried her face in Naomi’s neck, kissing it gently, feeling Naomi’s arms close around her own. "I love holding you like this, Na," she murmured against the older woman’s cheek. "I just feel like I could absorb you into me, take you with me everywhere I go."

Naomi smiled, leaning back into Kit’s embrace. Her face shone with genuine happiness and she realized she felt a wholeness that had escaped her most of her adult life. After a long silence, she took Kit’s hand from her arms and kissed the palm tenderly. "I’m so glad we decided to take things slow," she said quietly. "I feel so close to you now. For once, it’s not because I jumped into bed right away."

Kit squeezed her tightly. "I know. It would have been so easy to play it that way."

Naomi chuckled softly, thinking of something Kieran had told her.

"What’s funny?" Kit whispered.

"Oh, something Kieran told me once. She said the definition of insanity is doing things the same way over and over again, and expecting different results."

Kit laughed. "She’s right."

"I was thinking how this relationship is different than all my others, because I’m doing it differently. And it seems to be working better than the old way."

Kit nodded. "It does. It feels—right."

"Mmmm-hmmm," Naomi agreed. She considered at length the reasons she felt so different with Kit, so grounded. She knew that at least part of the balance she felt came from Kit’s spiritual beliefs, which helped the Commander to be at peace with herself and the world around her. Whenever inner turmoil bubbled, Kit subdued it through her martial arts and meditation. She was teaching Naomi the breathing exercises, and Naomi was surprised to find that she felt more centered than she ever had before. And she was more conscious of her surroundings, as if her senses were becoming sharper. Kit assured her that the focused energy achieved through Kundalini actually did make the senses more acute, and Naomi loved that Kit had shared that epiphany with her.

Naomi took a cleansing breath and let it out slowly. Since they had been seeing each other, they had never spent the night together, and she wondered how she would be able to rest with Kit beside her. It had taken every ounce of restraint she possessed to resist the instinct to consummate the relationship, and faced with the temptation of Kit’s presence, she did not trust herself to hold back. She took another breath and held it, then released the anxiety into it, letting the molecules of carbon dioxide carry away the negative feelings. When it was right, it would happen.

When the campfire had resolved into a warming glow of embers, the group started breaking off to go to bed. Kit stretched loudly and eased herself free from Naomi. "Are you ready?" she asked without even a hint of nervousness.

Naomi’s mouth was suddenly dry. She nodded.

Kit scrambled to her feet and held out her hand to Naomi, who took it and allowed the sturdy Commander to pull her to her feet. Still holding Naomi’s hand, she led her to the tent they were to share, knelt to unfasten the zippered doorway, and removed her boots outside the structure to keep their sleeping bags clean. Naomi followed suit, and slid into the tent.

Kit fumbled with the lantern and got it switched on. "Orson would be so jealous if he knew we were camping out. It was nice of Seven to volunteer to pet-sit."

Naomi grinned. "She wants to encourage me to date you," she confided. "She really likes you."

"She told you that?" Kit was surprised. "Seven seems pretty particular about who she likes," she commented, unzipping her bag.

"She knows how happy I’ve been lately. And she is royally peeved at Kieran for hurting me."

"Well, as much as I am sorry that you were hurt, I’m glad you decided not to close yourself off completely. Are you still upset over Kieran?" she asked quietly, wondering exactly where she stood with Naomi.

Seeing the vulnerability in Kit’s face, Naomi grabbed her and hugged her fiercely. "Not at all. I’m where I belong, Kit. I’m with the person I want to be with," she assured her, arms enfolding the Commander’s back and shoulders. "I love the time we spend together, and I love your company," she gazed pointedly into Kit’s golden eyes.

Kit captured Naomi’s lips in a passionate embrace, cupping her cheek in one strong hand, mouths expressing need and longing. Naomi pulled her down into the nest of sleeping bags and air mattresses, their legs entwining in a powerful tangle, lips exploring, tongues tentatively seeking each other. The encounter grew more boldly intimate by degrees as Kit moved over Naomi, bodies stretching against each other in subtle rhythmic motion and warmth. Kit kissed a feverish path from Naomi’s mouth to her throat, their breathing labored and audible. Just as Kit reached for the closure on Naomi’s blouse, a sound from the adjacent tent stopped them in their haste.

Kit pulled away, and whispered "Did you hear something?"

"Yes," Naomi returned, "but I’m not sure what. The safety protocols are on."

A muffled, unmistakably sexual groan from the adjacent tent answered their question, and the pair began to snicker. "Guess we’re going to get the floor show," Kit smarted.

"Better we should get it than give it," Naomi laughed. "That’s the trouble with light-weight tents—no sound proofing."

Kit had to hide her face in her pillow as the couple nearby began to pant and moan. "Oh my God, I can’t believe them," she said in a hushed voice. "Can you tell who it is?"

Naomi nodded. "Phil and Sheila," she tattled, trying to ignore the noises that were simultaneously amusing and arousing. Then grinning wickedly, she added "He must be pretty good, from the sound of things."

Kit smacked Naomi’s leg playfully. "I can’t think about that," she admitted, her voice husky.

Naomi grabbed her by the shirt and kissed her forcefully. "Why not?" she asked when they broke apart, gasping.

Kit swallowed hard, eyes closing involuntarily as the obvious sounds of climax reverberated through the campsite. "Because I want to make you cry out like that," she said against Naomi’s cheek. "I want to make love to you for hours and hours and make you say my name," she murmured in Naomi’s ear, liking the effect her words had on her companion.

Naomi arched against Kit’s body, drawing a ragged breath. "I want you, too," she whispered softly. "So much. But not with an audience, Kit. I want to be completely alone with you," she added apologetically.

Kit smiled into a reassuring kiss. "Me too, Na. I’d rather wait than have you be self-conscious about who might overhear us."

"Really?" Naomi sounded relieved and surprised at the same time.

"Really," Kit promised. "In fact, I have a pleasant distraction," she announced, reaching into a side pocket of her back pack. "I’ll read to you."

She pulled out a tattered old book, snuggled down into the bedding, and pulled Naomi close. "These were my favorites when I was a kid," she explained. "The tales of Winnie-the-Pooh."

Naomi felt her chest swell, and her eyes filled with tears. "God, I love you," she murmured against Kit’s shoulder.

Kit kissed her hair tenderly, her own rush of emotion filling her as the words skated through the chill air. "I love you, too," she admitted, squeezing Naomi closer. The revelation hung meaningfully in the space between them for several moments. Then Kit smiled and asked "What made you say it just now?"

Naomi rolled up on her forearms and peered down at her lover. "How sweet you are. How romantic. You’re reading me bedtime stories—that’s just so amazing to me. Most of the people I’ve dated, they couldn’t wait to get me in the sack. They didn’t care about propriety or what I wanted as much as they cared about sex. You’re so patient."

Kit kissed her affectionately. "You’re worth waiting for. I want to make it as perfect for you as I can."

Naomi sighed contentedly. "I know. And that’s what made me realize I’m in love with you," she explained.

Kit settled her back into the pillows once more, and smiling, began to read, her voice joyful and steady in its cadence as she told the story of the bear of little brain who lived in the Hundred Acre Woods. Naomi snuggled into her partner, eyes bright and shining with the realization that she was truly loved, as Kit’s voice rose and fell and took on the personae of the various characters. She fell asleep as easily as a child, nestled in the safety and comfort of strong arms, carried off to dreams of silly old bears and piglets and tiggers.

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

Naomi Wildman crawled out of the Jeffries tube, stretching the stiffness from her legs. She had been crammed into a narrow passage working on circuitry for three hours. Kit McCallister had come to check on the Beta shift engineers as part of a random inspection ordered by the Captain. She was just finishing up when she noticed Naomi.

"Hey Lieutenant," she smiled and helped her out of the crawl space. "You look beat," she noted sympathetically.

Naomi forced a smile. Every inch of her ached. "Yeah, that was a bitch of a maintenance interval. I think I lost the circulation in the lower half of my torso," she complained, wiping her face on her sleeve.

"Are you off duty now?" Kit asked hopefully.

"Yes, thank Kahless," she used one of B'Elanna’s favorite phrases.

"Then come home with me. I’ll make dinner while you soak in my tub. Then I’ll work all the knots out of your shoulders and legs," she lay a gentle hand on Naomi’s back, guiding her out of Engineering.

Naomi leaned into her. "That would be wonderful. Your massages are the best," she added, having been the recipient of numerous relaxing sessions. "I was actually thinking of going to sickbay, I’m so tight," she shrugged her shoulders, trying to loosen the muscle tension.

Kit was immediately concerned. "If you’re feeling that bad, maybe we should," she sounded worried.

"No, really," Naomi insisted. "It’s nothing a hot bath and a glass of wine can’t fix."

Kit kissed her temple. "That, I can provide."

Kit escorted her to the First Officer’s quarters, poured her a glass of wine, and sat her down on the couch. "You stay here and unwind. I’ll go run your bath," she offered.

Naomi smiled up at her muscular partner, watching her movements as she turned to go. Looks can be so deceiving, she thought to herself. Kit is so solid physically, but she looks slender in her uniform. Nobody would ever guess how strong she is. Naomi sighed tiredly and sipped her wine. She could hear Kit adjusting the controls to the hydrospa, humming to herself. I can’t remember ever knowing anyone so upbeat and energetic. I’ve never seen her in a bad mood, not since that day in Engineering when she was stressed out about the engine efficiency reports.

"Okay, you’re all set. Just put your uniform through the recycler. I left you a robe to wear," she mentioned. "I hope you like bubbles."

Naomi grinned. "I love ‘em."

"If you want, I can rub you down while you’re in the tub. Or we can use the table, like usual, after dinner. Up to you," Kit leaned down and kissed the crown of Naomi’s red-gold hair. "I’ll start dinner."

Naomi gazed up at her in wonder. "You take such good care of me. Sometimes I feel completely unworthy."

Kit frowned, kneeling beside the couch. "Everyone is worthy of love and affection. You doubly so," she said firmly, leaning in to kiss her partner. "Don’t forget that, Na."

Naomi leaned forward to kiss her. "Okay. I think I’d like it if you rubbed me down in the tub, if that’s okay. I’m not sure I can eat with this much discomfort in my neck and shoulders."

Kit hugged her gently. "Call me when you’re ready. I’ll be in the kitchen." She hoisted herself off the floor and padded out of the living room.

Naomi sighed and forced herself up off the couch. It took most of her remaining energy.

Voyager C has come a long way from the Intrepid class Voyager, Naomi realized as she surveyed the ensuite. It was equipped with an oversized bathtub that had massaging jets, a separate shower, and a double sink. The ensuite was as large as some of the crew quarters had been on the original Voyager. She disrobed and stuffed her uniform into the recycler, then stepped gingerly into the generous bathtub. She groaned appreciatively as she slid into the enveloping warmth and fragrant bubbles. Kit had put a good measure of bath oil into the water, and the surface was slick beneath her bottom. She slipped further than she intended, getting a faceful of suds, and came up giggling.

Her mind drifted in and out of conscious thought, taking a mental inventory of the time she had spent with Kit. She realized that almost as soon as they had officially started dating, the negative feelings over Kieran had dissipated like so many soap bubbles, effortlessly and naturally. She smiled to herself, thinking of her lanky, happy-go-lucky friend who had endured such difficult trials. She would always love Kieran, but in her heart she knew for certain that she was happy with Kit in a way that she had never been before. I thought I was in love with Kieran. Maybe I was. But it was never as…rich as the feelings I have for Kit. I guess I idealized Kieran for too many years to really separate the woman from the image I had of her. With Kit, there’s mutual admiration and respect. And there’s so much more substance than any relationship I’ve ever known. We really have become best friends. And there’s never been any pressure to rush into more.

Not that I want to only be friends. God, ever since that camping trip, I can’t stop thinking about making love with her. She doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. I wonder if that means she’s not sexually attracted to me? Naomi thought suddenly, sitting up in alarm. Maybe that’s why she’s so detached about it. Oh God, she despaired, I’m crazy about her. What if she thinks I’m—too alien?

Kit tapped lightly at the door before keying the entry code. "I’m coming in," she announced.

Naomi hastily slid back down into the tub, immersing herself in bubbles and camouflaging her naked body. She looked so unhappy, Kit noticed immediately.

"What’s wrong?" she asked softly, kneeling down by the tub and taking Naomi’s face in her hand.

Naomi tried to hide her insecurity, but her eyes gave her away. "It’s nothing," she lied.

Kit raised one eyebrow. "It sure looks like something to me," she gentled her tone. "Please tell me. Did I do something to upset you?"

Naomi shook her head slowly. "Not exactly," she murmured hesitantly.

Kit pulled up a stool and sat down beside the tub. "Please, Na. Be honest with me."

Naomi’s eyes were downcast, her voice retiring. "It just—it occurred to me that maybe the reason we’ve never—made love," she struggled over the explanation, "is that you might not—be attracted to me—physically. I mean, I’m half Ktarian, and you’re completely human," she stammered.

Kit’s eyes widened in disbelief. "You think I’m not attracted to you?" she was incredulous. "Naomi, I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, of any species," she assured the worried young woman hiding beneath the foam in her tub. "I love you," she emphasized earnestly. "I want you. But you told me your other lovers have been too eager, so I’ve been as restrained as I can manage to be. I figured when you were ready, you’d let me know in no uncertain terms," she explained. "Oh, Na," she wailed, "I’m so sorry if you really thought I didn’t want you," she kissed her passionately, deeply, then let her mouth wander to Naomi’s ear. "Let me show you how wrong you are," she whispered, her voice raw with immediate desire.

Kit tugged at the closure of her uniform jacket, shedding it effortlessly, dropping it to the floor where it was joined by her undershirt, trousers, and underwear. Naomi watched breathlessly as her lover’s body was revealed to her, unaware that the thundering sound she couldn’t ignore was the sound of her own blood pulsing in her ears. Wordlessly, Kit eased into the water, drawing Naomi’s legs over her own, so their bodies were pressed tightly together in the warmth of the scented water. "I love you," Kit said so quietly that the words were barely audible, more felt than heard as their lips met.

Naomi was instantly breathless, so tender was Kit’s kiss. She could feel the intent and emotion in the deepening contact, and an inadvertent sound escaped her throat as Kit enfolded her in sinewy, strong arms that cradled and coveted simultaneously. They kissed until the water became tepid and the foam disappeared into a film on the surface of the motionless bath. When the water cooled to the point of being uncomfortable, Kit broke the seemingly endless kiss. "I don’t want you to catch a chill," she said protectively. "Let’s dry off and take this to my bedroom."

Naomi nodded. "Don’t forget dinner is on the stove," she reminded her.

Kit leaned her forehead against Naomi’s. "Thanks. I had forgotten," she admitted, grinning. "Computer," she invoked the invisible sentry of her quarters. "Discontinue heat to all stove elements, drain the hydrospa, and raise the lights in my bedroom to one quarter," she ordered, raising herself out of the bathtub. She reached for an oversized towel and steadied Naomi as she stood up, then wrapped the fluffy terry cloth around them both, rubbing the absorbent fabric over Naomi’s back and shoulders, all the while kissing each newly dried area.

When they were no longer dripping water in sheets, Kit let the towel fall to the floor and laced her fingers in Naomi’s, kissing her forcefully and drawing her hands to her chest. Naomi felt her knees threaten to buckle, but Kit held on tightly, letting her gain her balance. Naomi smiled faintly into their kiss, pleased that Kit was so aware of her body that she knew when Naomi needed a steadying hand. They parted silently, Kit gazing meaningfully into Naomi’s eyes as she backed out of the ensuite and urged Naomi along with her. Naomi wasn’t sure how she got from the tub to the bed. She only knew she had, somehow, when Kit eased her onto slippery satin sheets and covered her freshly washed body with her own.

Naomi opened her arms to welcome Kit’s body against hers, the subtle pressure of carefully balanced weight shifting to strong forearms as the shock of skin on skin sent an anticipatory chill through the Ktarian’s groin. Both women inhaled sharply at the sensation, eyes closing involuntarily as they stretched out together for the first time, inviting and exposed.

Kit kissed her gently, parting her lips with a subtly inquisitive tongue. Naomi tangled her fingers in Kit’s hair, cupping the back of her head as they deepened their kiss. Kit let her fingertips lazily ghost over Naomi’s flesh from her hips to her nipples, delighting in the gasp that the faint caress created in her lover. She made mental notes of the sensitive places, returning to them often with the faintest of touches, inciting the eager woman beneath her as they kissed. Kit eased her lips from Naomi’s, kissing a languid path from mouth to jaw, from jaw to throat as Naomi turned her head, baring her neck, softly sighing as Kit nipped and lightly suckled, raising gooseflesh on her arms and shoulders.

Naomi thought her heart would thunder out of her chest any moment. She harnessed the moan that was threatening to escape her and swallowed it back, but when deliberate thumbs stroked her nipples without prelude, she whimpered. Kit smiled against Naomi’s throat, pleased with the reaction. She squeezed each nipple in turn between thumb and forefinger, listening to the answering hiss of air. Thumb and forefinger were replaced by ardent lips and tongue, and Naomi could not be silent, though she dampened the sound with her hand and wrist. Kit reached up and withdrew the muffling arm, easing it down to Naomi’s side. "I want to hear you," she said hoarsely, pinning it while she fluttered her tongue against an engorged nipple.

Naomi bit her lip, but couldn’t entirely suppress a groan as Kit kissed her breasts with soft, puckering motions over each. She insinuated a thigh between Naomi’s legs, parting them slowly. Her efforts were rewarded with wet warmth, and she obligingly slid her thigh through the fluid evidence of Naomi’s need, pressing against her mons in tantalizing rhythm. Naomi’s breathing became ragged as she moved, the liquid dance inciting fire from every nerve ending. Naomi forgot to repress the uncontrollable sounds of arousal, and as Kit kissed a delicate trail to her inner thighs Naomi’s eyes closed unbidden. Then she felt it, burning in the pit of her stomach and at the base of her spine, the quickening inside her as Kit buried her face in the soft thatch of hair, coaxing the petals of thick flesh apart with the tip of her tongue, and taking a long, loving taste. Naomi cried out from the shock of the sensation between her legs, pulling them up to open herself even more as Kit softly took the moist folds into her mouth, massaging them with her lips, parting them repeatedly with her tongue. Naomi’s hips lifted off the bed, her words incoherently jumbled and punctuated with gasps and groans as Kit swirled the tip of her tongue against a distended nub, the motion taking her to an edge she longed to fall off of. She dug her fingers into Kit’s shoulders, unaware that she was clutching and sinking her fingernails into vulnerable tissue. Kit concentrated her efforts on the center of Naomi’s pleasure, demanding release and providing it at the same time.

"God, Kit!" Naomi gasped as the climax hit her, her body jerking spasmodically as her lover continued to touch her provocatively, trying to keep the writhing body anchored. When the waves subsided somewhat, Kit moved back over Naomi’s body, taking her in insistent arms, holding her while the waves became ripples.

"I love you, Naomi. I want you," she promised, in case there was a remaining doubt.

Naomi squeezed her eyes shut tightly, willing away the tears that sprang to her eyes. "I love you too," she answered with a shuddering breath. "I’m sorry I got so insecure."

Kit rolled them over so that she was on her back and Naomi lay beside her, contoured against Kit’s side with her head on Kit’s shoulder. "I’m sorry I let you get that way. I’m so used to practicing control, I forget there are times when it’s best to lose it." She turned her head to capture Naomi’s kiss again, feeling drowsy and satisfied. "Remind me to be less disciplined in the future," she teased between kisses.

"I can help you lose control, you know," Naomi ran the palm of her hand over Kit’s chest, making the errant caress of her left nipple seem accidental. Kit drew a sudden breath, and Naomi smiled. "Let me show you," she murmured, moving over her lover.

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

"All Senior Officers report to the main conference room," Captain Kathryn Janeway ordered, assuming her seat at the head of the table. "I want you to handle the briefing for the technical facets of this mission, Commander," she added, turning to Kit McCallister, who was seated at her right side. "Did you read the science reports?"

Kit bristled. "Of course I did, Captain. Do you really have to ask?"

Janeway smirked. "Let’s just say I know my daughter has been keeping you up nights," she sipped her coffee.

Kit frowned. "Has my performance suffered, Captain?"

Janeway grinned wickedly. "Not according to Naomi," she smarted.

Kit sighed with relief as she realized Janeway was teasing her. "Does Naomi tell you everything?" she demanded, pretending to be outraged.

Janeway waggled her eyebrows. "She tells me enough. You’re getting rave reviews, by the way."

Kit blushed profusely as the staff started to filter into the briefing. Seeing the obvious embarrassment on her lover’s face, Naomi gave her mother a warning look as she entered, but Kathryn ignored it.

When the staff had assembled, Janeway stood to address them. "Starfleet has changed our current mission specs. We have changed course and will be arriving at the Jenest system in 24 hours. It seems that when the Jenest petitioned the Federation for membership, they were advised that the council would view their application more favorably if they ended the practice of slavery on their world. They took the recommendation to heart, but not without serious ramifications. Commander?" Janeway took her seat, gazing expectantly at her First Officer.

Kit stood up and cleared her throat, taking over the briefing. "The Jenest homeworld depends upon an elaborate system of radiation shielding to protect it from harmful levels of UV-C radiation. Their planet lacks the type of atmosphere that protects most class M planets. Through a remarkable technology, they have developed field generators that project the equivalent of the Van Allen belts of Earth, where most of the harmful radiation is trapped and held. Recently, a nearby star went supernova, creating a bombardment of Galactic Cosmic Rays which have strained the capacity of the protective field. To make matters worse, the shielding has historically been maintained and serviced by the Wachau, the formerly enslaved residents who have since left Jenest to colonize a planet in a distant star system. The Jenest were ill equipped to take over the task, and now the shielding grid is failing," Kit outlined the problem.

Janeway nodded approvingly and stood up again. "Voyager is the closest Federation vessel," Janeway continued the briefing. "We’ll be providing engineering assistance, as well as medical aid. Commander McCallister will be in charge of all planetary operations, primarily the evacuation of Jenestians that are in areas of acute grid failure. Lieutenant Wildman will be heading up the team working on the shielding grid. All teams coordinate through Commander McCallister. Understood?" Janeway glanced at her team, who dipped their heads collectively in acknowledgement. "Excellent. We have it on good authority that there may be unforeseen complications on this mission. Commander?" Janeway turned the briefing back over to Kit.

"Starfleet intelligence reports that there is considerable socio-political unrest on Jenest. There are splinter factions that oppose the decision to abolish slavery simply to gain the approval of the Federation. There is a groundswell of support for forcibly bringing the Wachau back to Jenest, for obvious practical reasons. There are unconfirmed rumors that a band of Wachau who did not leave the planet and some sympathetic Jenestians have been behind several incidents of sabotage at the generating stations. We’re walking into a hotbed of civil unrest, with the majority of people clamoring for a return to the traditional ways. It’s up to us as ambassadors of the Federation to show that the Jenest can receive the help they need without resorting to inhumane means. We need to assure them that they will obtain that support simply through their affiliation with the Federation. We need to be on our best diplomatic behavior. Our ability to resolve this crisis may determine the future of Jenest, as well as the future of the Wachau. I can’t overemphasize that point," she made eye contact with each officer as she spoke. "We will not be seen as welcomed guests by a good many of the Jenestians. Be on your guard. Report any suspicious activity to me, or to Commander Gaede," she nodded in the direction of the Security Chief. "Be polite, but be vigilant, people. Captain?"

"We’ll assemble after we’ve had a chance to meet with the Jenestian government and have had an opportunity to assess the magnitude of the problem. Commander McCallister has sent additional briefing materials to each of your comm accounts. I want a list of your team members on my desk within the hour. Dismissed," Janeway turned to leave the conference room. Seven of Nine followed closely, already on high alert and worried for Kathryn’s safety.

Kit touched Naomi’s sleeve as she turned to go. "Na?" she said softly.

Naomi turned back around. "Yes?"

"You’re going to be in the most vulnerable position. You realize that, don’t you? If there’s genuinely a rebel faction that is trying to sabotage the generating stations—"

Naomi glanced around the room to make certain everyone had gone before she took Kit’s hands. "I know. It will be okay, love," she tried to sound confident. "I’ll be as watchful as Borg-Mom when K-Mom is at risk. I promise," she raised up on her toes to kiss Kit’s cheek.

Kit wrapped her arms around the slighter woman’s waist. "I know you’re perfectly capable, but I’d feel a lot better if I could be with you. But I can’t," she said apologetically.

Naomi hugged her back. "I know," she said softly. Then gazing into Kit’s golden eyes she added "It took me thirty years to find you. Believe me when I tell you I will do everything I can to get safely home to you, always."

Kit kissed her then, too moved to reply. After a long moment, she stepped back. "I have to get to work. Are you free for dinner?"

Naomi grinned. "You ask me that every day, like I’m going to plan to do something other than spend the night with you," she chuckled.

Kit returned her smile. "I don’t want to be presumptuous," she admitted. "I know you have other friends, a family, work. I don’t want to take you for granted."

"Walk me to Engineering?" Naomi requested.

"Of course," Kit seemed relieved, as if she already couldn’t bear to have Naomi out of her sight.

"I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this," Naomi began as they walked. "I guess now is as good a time as any."

Kit’s brow furrowed slightly. "What?" she asked, instantly concerned. Damn, she’s going to tell me we spend too much time together, Kit thought, trying not to let her disappointment show.

"I only go to my quarters when I need something, and we never spend any time there together."

"Would you like to have me stay at your place, sometimes? I didn’t mean to always make you be the one to come over, but with Orson—" Kit began.

Naomi slipped her hand into Kit’s briefly. "Your quarters are much nicer than mine. It makes sense that we’re there. It’s less disruptive to Orson, and that’s important. It’s been enough of an adjustment for him just having to share you with me," she allayed Kit’s fear. "What I was thinking is maybe we should just move in together," she stated matter-of-factly.

Kit was surprised, but pleased. "You do, huh?" she gathered Naomi under her arm.

"On a trial basis," Naomi amended, thinking her proposition might be too broad sweeping. "If you get sick of me, you can send me back to my own place," she added quickly.

Kit glanced down the corridor each direction, verified they were alone, and stopped to look directly at her partner. "I could never get sick of you. I’m crazy about you. If you want to live with me, I’m all for it. Who knows. Maybe if you decide living with me is okay, we could—" Kit realized she was gushing, and about to say too much.

Naomi tightened her hold on the taller Commander, who tried to look away. "We could what?"

Kit’s throat went dry. "We could—talk about our future," she tried to cover herself. "Maybe talk about making things more—permanent."

"I’d like that," Naomi murmured, smiling up at her.

"You would?" Kit was amazed.

"Yes. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, actually. Our future, I mean," she clarified, reluctantly heading in the direction of engineering again. "I mean, since we made love the first time, I’ve hardly ever gone home again. For all intents and purposes, we’re living together now, except my belongings are in a different storage unit. We’re just not calling it living together."

Kit stopped outside the entrance to engineering. "As soon as this mission is over, and we have some time to ourselves, we’ll move your stuff to my place. Do you want to keep your own quarters?"

Naomi considered. "Do you want me to? I mean, I said it was on a trial basis."

Kit peered lovingly down at her. "I asked you if you want to maintain your own quarters. It’s up to you. I don’t need a ‘trial’ of living with you to know I want to keep waking up together."

"Then no. I think it’s counterproductive to have an escape route when things get difficult. Like I told you, when I was a kid, and K-Mom and Borg-Mom had fights, it was so easy for Borg-Mom to just go to the cargo bay and avoid K-Mom. I don’t want to do that. If problems arise, we need to work them out, not punish each other by running away. So do I need to submit a formal request to the First Officer to change my domicile?" she asked playfully.

"I don’t think that’s necessary," Kit feigned seriousness. "I have to run. Come by my quarters when you’re ready for dinner."

"I will. I love you, Kit," she added, realizing she probably didn’t say so nearly enough.

Kit felt her chest swell. "I love you, too."

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

Kit McCallister tried to make herself less conspicuous as she lounged on the Captain’s couch in the ready room, going over last minute details with her C.O. When the mission had been fully discussed, she looked expectantly at Captain Janeway.

"That’s all, Commander," Kathryn concluded. "You’re dismissed."

"Actually Captain," Kit began hesitantly, "I was hoping to make good on that rain check?"

Janeway gave her a puzzled frown. "Rain check? What are you talking about?"

"You offered me a drink, and I was busy and couldn’t accept. Is the offer still valid?" she asked hopefully. "I know that was ages ago."

Janeway’s eyes crinkled at the edges, a faint curl to her lips. "Of course, Commander. I’ll have whiskey, neat," she advised, implying the Commander should be the one to serve.

"Yes Ma’am," she made her way to the replicator and programmed it.

"Was there something in particular on your mind, Kit?" Janeway sat down on the couch with a knowing expression.

Kit brought their drinks over. "Sort of. It’s—well, this mission. I’m worried about Naomi. And I wanted to know how you deal with it, Captain."

Kathryn hid her amusement in her drink. "Deal with what?" she asked, knowing full well what the Commander meant.

"How do you deal with the anxiety of sending Seven into a dangerous situation? I know you’ve done it hundreds of times, but this is the first time I’ve ever had to deal with the fear," she admitted. "It’s like I’ve got this sick feeling in my gut."

"It gets easier, but not much," Janeway advised her. "I have learned, grudgingly, to trust Seven’s abilities and judgement, and I know she is utterly competent as a member of this crew. But I confess, when she’s planetside and I’m on Voyager, I don’t sleep until she’s back with me," she confided. "I hate it everytime I have to send her off. But she has a job to do, and I have a duty to my ship. I send the most qualified individuals to do the work, regardless of my personal feelings. I expect you to do no less."

Kit swallowed a quarter of her drink. "I will do my duty, as well. But I don’t have to like it, do I?" she asked.

Janeway shook her head. "Nope. And if you need to vent, I’ll listen. Not as your commanding officer, but as a friend. I love my daughter, Commander. And it’s clear to me that she loves you with all her heart, and that you love her. Seven and I are here for you both."

"Thank you," Kit replied sincerely.

Kathryn tossed back a long swallow of whiskey. "It’s hard to balance duty and family, Kit. It’s a learning process, and I made my share of missteps. I almost lost Seven more than once. But I was lucky enough that she loved me and stuck with me. And I had a strong support system of friends and family to keep me honest," she smiled, thinking of Kieran and B'Elanna. "I know you and Naomi will have your share of struggles. But I’ve never seen her with anyone who struck such a deep chord in her. The change in her is nothing short of remarkable. She’s so—happy," Janeway realized.

"And I’ve seen a change in you, too," the Captain added contemplatively. "When you have your own ship someday, you’ll understand more fully, but one of the greatest joys of commanding is seeing the people under your command blossoming into better officers and better people. It’s the most rewarding part of the job. When Kieran was promoted to Captain of the Sagan, that was one of my proudest moments. And Noah—what a transformation I saw in him! I had demoted him the second he came to my ship, but he worked his ass off, and now he’s a Captain, not to mention an amazing man. I miss him terribly, but I’m so pleased for him," Janeway’s face relaxed with contentment as she spoke. "You’ve come a long way since you came to Voyager. I know I teased you this morning, but you really are an excellent First Officer. You have the one quality I always look for in command candidates," she noted.

"What’s that?" Kit queried, finishing her drink.

"The ability to see your own mistakes and shortcomings long before I have to point them out to you. You scrutinize yourself admirably, and you are able to take credit for your successes and blame for your failures. I respect that. I’ve always struggled with the former," Janeway grinned ruefully.

"Yes, I’ve noticed," Kit said honestly.

Janeway quirked an eyebrow. "Yes, I’m sure you have. Don’t even bother to lecture me about it. Kieran and Seven have nagged me for a quarter of a century, and it’s done little good. It’s part of being a Hoosier—you’re taught early on not to lord your successes over others. It’s in poor taste. I’ve just never unlearned that part of my upbringing."

"I’m sorry, Captain, but what’s a Hoosier?" Kit asked, biting on an ice cube.

Janeway smiled. "I forget sometimes you weren’t raised on Earth. I’m from Indiana. We’re called Hoosiers. Don’t ask me why, but we are."

Kit nodded, checked the chronometer, and stood to go. "I’ve taken enough of your time. Seven is probably anxious to see you. She had that protective scowl all through this morning’s meeting," Kit advised.

"You’re probably right, I should get home. You know, we hardly ever see Naomi anymore. Do you think you could both come to dinner some night?" Kathryn teased.

"Of course, Captain. We’d be delighted."

"I promise I won’t let Seven bombard you with prying questions, this time."

Kit held up her hand. "It’s okay. She was just trying to protect Naomi. She has the right to be protective, especially after what happened with Kieran." Kit took her glass to be recycled. "Thanks for the drink. Good night, Captain."

"See you tomorrow. Give my love to Naomi," Kathryn added as Kit slipped through the door.

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

Naomi Wildman had been hard at it for the past thirteen hours, and still couldn’t get the shielding in sector 4286 to stabilize. She was tired, hungry, her back ached, and other than the mandatory hourly report to Kit, she was lonely. She had sent her team back to Voyager to get some dinner and to rest, and the second team wasn’t due for another hour. The Jenestian overseer, Anken, had spent the first six hours fretfully pacing the length of the generating station, but even he had finally become bored.

Naomi was unimpressed with the Jenestian’s grasp of their own technology. They had depended so heavily on the Wachau to be responsible for the shielding system, they themselves had no real comprehension of how it worked and how to work with it. It was hard to believe that the Jenestians had invented the system in the first place. She glanced sidelong at the overseer, who was humanoid, but decidedly alien looking. The Jenestians breathed through the top of their flat heads, like a dolphin, but lacked a muscle structure to close the opening. Hairless, with large lidless eyes and a protruding jaw, they were darkly pigmented, and rather brutish looking, Naomi thought. I’d hate to meet one of them in a dark alley, she mused. The overseer was easily six feet tall, and the females were almost as big. They made Naomi think of a cro-magnon human, only much uglier and balder.

Inside the control room, the sound from outside was dampened by the thick, protective bunker walls of the control area. The Voyager security team that had been posted to guard the entrance was taken by surprise when a sleep agent was inserted through the ventilation system. Before they could alert the ship or Commander McCallister, they were unconscious. Naomi Wildman toiled on, oblivious to the danger.

Anken slipped over to the entrance, keying in a security code. Ten Jenestians poured into the room, armed and aggressive. Naomi reached for her phaser, but was backhanded to the ground before she could draw it.

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

"McCallister to Janeway," Kit snapped.

"Janeway here."

"Captain, Lieutenant Wildman was supposed to check in ten minutes ago. I can’t raise her or the security team at her location. I’m on my way there now, with Commander Gaede."

"I’ll check with the authorities and see what I can find out. Hail me as soon as you get to the generating station," Janeway ordered, closing the link.

Before Kit could close the distance to the station, Janeway hailed her. "Commander, stand by to beam aboard. There’s been a change of plans."

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

"I’m telling you, I can’t do it alone," Naomi argued with her captors. "This station used to require eight Wachau to run it. My engineering team has to beam down here," she reasoned with a particularly beefy looking Jenestian. "Look," she tried to sound rational, "here’s a list of the names of the people that I absolutely have to have to get this situation under control." She extended her arm, offering the PADD. "Contact my Captain. Ask her to send these crewmembers. Once we get the shielding system functioning, we’ll be on our way. Then your people can do whatever they want about the Wachau."

His eyes grew more oval, if that was possible. "This isn’t about the Wachau," he hissed angrily. "This is about the Federation. We wouldn’t even be in this mess if our shortsighted leaders hadn’t tried to win their favor by freeing the Wachau," he jabbed a pulse pistol into her chest.

"Shagat," Anken addressed him. "She is correct. She cannot complete this task alone. Not without many more of our people being exposed to dangerous levels of radiation. If you let her colleagues assist her, the repairs can be completed much more quickly."

Shagat eyed his companions, each nodding in agreement. Shagat scowled, but reviewed the PADD. "All right, Anken," he returned. "Contact Janeway. Tell her we need the following engineers: McCallister, Gaede, Seven, G’Rath, Younessian, and Bennett. Give her the coordinates and lower the force field around the station on my mark. You," he grabbed Naomi roughly, "are my guarantee that nothing goes wrong," he snarled, wrapping an arm around her throat and pressing the pistol to her temple.

Anken terminated the communication with Janeway. "She said it would take several minutes to assemble the team. They were off duty, and many were sleeping," he reported. "She will hail us when they are ready."

Shagat nodded. "You’d better hope your Captain values your life," he muttered into Naomi’s ear with fetid breath.

Naomi gritted her teeth against the stench. "She does. She’s also my mother," she replied.

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

"Brilliant," Kit smiled approvingly. "She picked the best security people on the ship."

Janeway nodded. "Get everyone into mustard uniforms. We don’t want to tip them off the second we beam into the station."

Kit smirked. "Presupposing they’ve even noticed that different departments have different uniform colors. My limited exposure indicates they are not exactly the most observant species we’ve met up with."

"Let’s hope. If this plan is going to work, we’re going to need them to be as oblivious as you say," Janeway replied.

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

The second the away team materialized, Kit could see that Naomi had been battered. Her lip was split and her face was bruised along the jawline. The Commander ground her back teeth and breathed deeply to gain control of her outrage.

"Shagat, I presume?" she approached Naomi’s captor slowly.

"You are?" he demanded, gouging the pistol into Naomi’s temple, causing her to wince.

"Commander McCallister. I came with the engineering crew to propose a hostage exchange."

Shagat looked Kit up and down.

"I’m the First Officer. Only Captain Janeway outranks me. Besides, Lieutenant Wildman can’t do her job if you’ve got her at gunpoint," she held out her hands imploringly.

Shagat considered momentarily. Anken leaned in close to him. "She has a point. Lieutenant Wildman is their Chief Engineer. And this one outranks her," he pointed his pistol in Kit’s direction. Shagat looked around the station, making sure every Voyager crew person had a weapon trained on them. He glared at Kit. "Get on your knees," he growled, "and put your hands on top of your head."

Kit obediently dropped to her knees and laced her fingers together on the top of her head.

Shagat nodded at one of his guerillas, who swung the butt of a pulse rifle roundhouse, clubbing Kit to the floor.

"Kit!" Naomi cried out in anguish as she lurched forward, but Shagat restrained her.

"Move and she dies," he hissed.

Naomi schooled her temper, breathing carefully, trying to ignore the puddle of blood growing around Kit’s head. You won’t help her by lashing out at him. Patience. I know K-Mom sent them down here with some kind of rescue in mind.

Satisfied that Naomi would do nothing to endanger the Commander, he put his foot in Naomi’s back and shoved her toward the control panel. "Get to work," he shouted to the engineering team. He stooped down, grabbing the Commander’s uniform and lifting her up by its bloodied fabric. Kit was barely conscious. "She likes you," he said under his breath, inclining his flattened head in Naomi’s direction. "That could be dangerous."

Kit said nothing. Shagat cast a curious eye at Kit’s comm badge, snagging it from her chest. "Something to remember you by," he noted, depositing it into his pocket.

Naomi moved from control console to control console, instructing the various crewmembers in their assigned tasks.

"Okay, Gaede, this is what you’re doing. Monitor the grid boundaries, to make sure the integrity doesn’t drop. This sector and this sector," she punched in commands to demonstrate. "Got it?"

Commander Gaede nodded. "Don’t let the field drop," he said.

Naomi gave him a peculiar look. "Yes."

She moved to the Klingon security guard, showing him the commands he needed to assist. "You monitor this generator, and tell me if it falls below this indicator level," she instructed.

"Don’t let the field drop," he said.

"Indicator," Naomi corrected him.

He gave her a piercing look. Naomi considered what that look might mean, and moved on.

"Okay, Seven, you could do this in your sleep."

"Don’t let the field drop," Seven said, before Naomi could tell her what to do.

Naomi hesitated. Comprehension registered in her face. "Exactly," she agreed, showing Seven the commands to take down the force field surrounding the generating station.

The Jenest guerilla standing behind them had never been in a generating station, and had no idea what Naomi had just shown Seven.

By the time Naomi returned to her station, the force field was down, and Voyager had locked onto each biosignature. The engineering team dematerialized before the stunned Jenestians eyes.

Shagat pulled the trigger of the pulse pistol where Kit’s head had been, but the pulse only cut through a veil of sparkles.

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

"They fractured her skull at the base," the Doctor explained with a disgusted look on his face. "Barbarians. I hope you’re not going to help those people, after this incident, Captain," he commented, running his scanner over Kit’s injuries. "She lost a bit of blood, not a critical amount," he continued. "There’s extensive edema, so I’m giving her neuro-anti-inflammatory therapy. I recommend keeping her in sickbay for at least a day."

"Whatever you think is best, Doctor," Janeway agreed. "How is Naomi?"

"Superficial facial abrasions and contusions. I think her psyche is more damaged than her physical body. She wants to kill the Jenestian that assaulted Commander McCallister," he explained.

"That makes two of us," Gaede chimed in as he joined his Captain. "Kit did exactly what they told her to do. She offered no resistance, and he popped her for the hell of it."

Janeway cocked her head sideways. "She didn’t say anything to provoke him?"

Gaede shook his head emphatically. "She followed the plan to the letter. She would’ve done anything to get Naomi away from him."

"It’s fine," Naomi Wildman snapped at the medical technician. "Just—for Kahless sake, can’t it wait?" she jumped down off the biobed across the room, leaving a flustered med tech standing there, dermal regenerator still at the ready.

Naomi ignored the tech and made her way to where Kit was lying on her side. She wordlessly touched the Commander’s face. "Why isn’t she conscious yet?" she demanded impatiently.

The Doctor lay a hand on Naomi’s arm. "I can revive her if you like, but she’ll be in a good deal of pain. There’s been subdural bleeding, and I can’t knit the fracture until I get the pressure down. It’s dangerously close to the brain stem. I’d rather let her stay unconscious until I’ve treated the worst of it, Lieutenant."

Naomi nodded wordlessly. She settled for taking Kit’s hand while the doctor worked.

"Commander," Janeway turned to her Chief of Security, "I want your report in twenty minutes, my ready room."

"Aye, Captain," he took that as his cue to leave.

When the Commander had left sickbay, Kathryn put a comforting hand on Naomi’s shoulder. "She’s going to be fine. It will just take a few hours. Are you okay?" she asked softly.

"Yes."

Kathryn continued in her throaty alto. "That was very clever of you, to change the names on the engineering team."

Naomi shrugged. "It doesn’t seem so clever now. It nearly got Kit killed," she murmured miserably.

"I know you’re upset, but you understand that someone had to free you, so you could take down the force field? Seven might have been able to figure it out, given enough time, but I thought it was preferable to get you all out of there. This way was most expedient," she outlined her thinking. Ordinarily, she would not explain her command decisions to anyone, but in this case, she wanted her daughter to understand there was a rationale to the method. "I didn’t think they would bludgeon her, Naomi," Kathryn added regretfully.

Naomi glanced up at her mother, eyes conveying more than her words could. "I know that, K-Mom. I don’t blame you. I just feel bad that she was injured saving my neck."

A faint groan and an attempt to grab the base of her skull alerted the Doctor that Kit was coming around. He frowned and prepared a hypospray to dull the pain. "Lie still, Commander," he ordered as he deployed the medication and deflected her searching hand. "You’ve got a skull fracture and some bleeding. Try not to move."

Kit squinted against the lights of the sickbay. "What happened?" she croaked.

Naomi leaned down so Kit could see her. "You had a disagreement with the blunt end of a pulse rifle. Are you in much pain?"

Kit inhaled and exhaled several times. "It’s bearable. Is it hot in here? I’m sticky with sweat," she mumbled, not really coherent.

Naomi drew nearer, kissing her cheek. "That’s not sweat, honey. It’s blood. We’ll get you cleaned up in a few minutes, okay?"

"Na?" she inquired, as if it had just dawned on her whom she was addressing.

"What, honey?" Naomi dropped her voice to a whisper.

"I was so scared," Kit admitted. "I thought—all sorts of awful things had happened to you," she choked on the words, eyes filling. "Are you okay?"

"Completely," she assured her.

The Doctor smiled apologetically at Naomi. "It’s really crucial that you stop talking, Commander. Everytime you speak, you move your head."

"Sorry," Naomi said for them both, squeezing Kit’s hand. "The Doctor says you’re going to be okay, so I’m going to go check on Orson," Naomi offered.

Kathryn shook her head. "Seven has him at our place. It’s taken care of."

Kit smiled in spite of the pain, grateful they had remembered her furry friend.

"Thanks, Mom," Naomi reached up with her free hand and lay it over Kathryn’s, which was still firmly on her shoulder.

Kathryn tried to add a little levity. "We figure Orson may be the only grandchild we get. We’re making the most of it."

Naomi didn’t laugh. "There’s always Geejay," she tried to console her mother.

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

Kieran Thompson sat in her sparsely appointed office, trying to stare out the thin sliver of window that gave the occupant a hint of the scenery outside, teasing and unsatisfying. Kieran sighed. Try though she might to work, she could not concentrate. Her thoughts repeatedly wandered to Naomi Wildman, and she cursed Deanna Troi silently for planting seeds of doubt. She had been so confident that she had dealt with the situation appropriately, until Deanna had questioned the soundness of her logic. She knew she should listen to the misgivings that gnawed at the periphery of her emotions. She needed to see Naomi to get some perspective on their relationship, but orchestrating a face-to-face with the absent engineer would be no small feat.

Resigned to the impossibility of it, she turned back to the spec sheets of her work in progress, the construction of her new ship. She was startled to see the willowy figure of Admiral Picard entering her office.

"Kieran," he greeted her warmly. "You’re looking well," he commented with genuine affection.

"Thank you, Sir," she stood to acknowledge his rank. "I’m feeling almost like my old self," she agreed.

"Please, sit down," he slid into the chair on the opposite side of her desk. "Hard at work, I see. I’m afraid I’m going to have to sidetrack you, old friend. It seems there’s a board of inquiry convening at DS9."

Kieran’s eyes widened. "They caught them?"

Picard nodded. "You’ve been called to testify. Deanna, you and I will rendezvous with Voyager next week. Captain Janeway is also going to give evidence. The proceeding should be rather—involved. Deanna assures me you’re of sound mind, fully up to the task. But I’d rather hear from you that you’re capable of fulfilling this duty. I understand if it’s too difficult."

Kieran’s teeth glittered with a ferocity that gave the aged Admiral a chill. "I wouldn’t miss it, Sir," she replied with cold clarity.

Picard studied her a moment longer. "Splendid. I’ll have my adjutant transmit your orders later this afternoon. How goes the construction?"

Kieran smiled. "Oh Jean-Luc," she couldn’t mask her enthusiasm, "she’s an incredible ship. So intricate and opulent and complex," she waved her hands expressively. "B'Elanna would have fallen in love with this beauty," she fingered the spec sheets longingly. "I know I have."

Picard smiled, fondly remembering his own time in command. "I envy you, Captain. I’m too old for the rigors of space travel, but I miss it," he sighed regretfully.

"You should come on a mission sometime, Sir. Other Admirals have availed themselves of the opportunity. I’d love to have you along. I’d give anything to have the chance to pick your brain."

"You flatter me," Picard rose to go. "But I might just take you up on it," he chuckled, spirits raised considerably by the praise. "It’s a difficult thing to sustain body and soul from within the pallor of these offices, once you’ve tasted the bounty of the depths of space. Treasure your time out there, Kieran. Savor it. It’s over far too quickly." He turned to go, then stopped in his tracks. "By the way," he added, "Captain Janeway and I have submitted a request to Starfleet Command to name your new ship the B'Elanna Torres. I expect it will be approved. I thought you’d like to know."

Kieran’s throat closed reflexively. "Thank you, Admiral. It’s a fitting tribute, Sir."

Picard nodded. "See you soon," he said as he left the emotionally overwhelmed Captain to contemplate her new ship.

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

The engineering team from Voyager had finished the repairs to the Jenestian shielding system under heavy guard, with a promise to send a qualified civilian team from the Federation to train the Jenestians in the maintenance of the system.

Commander McCallister stayed in sickbay two days, and was confined to bedrest in her quarters after that. Voyager had been diverted to Deep Space Nine, so that Captain Janeway could give testimony regarding the investigation into the destruction of the Sagan. While they were en route, Naomi Wildman took advantage of the opportunity to move her belongings into Kit’s quarters.

Kit rested against a mound of pillows, watching Naomi as she hefted moving crates from the anti-grav sled into the large walk-in closet in Kit’s bedroom. Seven and Kathryn were giving her a hand. Kit watched them with mild interest, realizing she’d never seen Janeway out of uniform before. "I’m sorry I’m not allowed to help," she apologized to the three women.

"Nonsense," Kathryn insisted. "The Doctor told you to take it easy, and you will, or I’ll have something to say about it."

Kit sighed. "Aye Captain," she replied with a hangdog expression.

"It’s Kathryn when I’m out of uniform," she smiled, grunting as she lifted a particularly heavy box. "Good lord, Naomi, what have you got in here? It feels like duranium hull plating."

Naomi grinned sheepishly. "Conduit, a spanner, some miscellaneous parts, and a piece or two of duranium," she admitted.

Seven planted her hands on her hips. "Shouldn’t you just take that box to engineering? Kit is running out of room in here," she scolded.

Naomi nodded. "Yes, Mother."

Kathryn swatted her. "Don’t take that tone, young lady. And do NOT roll your eyes," she lifted her hand menacingly, chuckling.

Naomi looked pointedly at Kit. "Are you sure you want to get yourself into the middle of this family?" she groused.

Seven stuck her head out of the closet. "Too late. I’m not moving these crates again."

Kit grinned wickedly. "You think this is tough? Wait’ll you meet my family," she warned.

Kathryn arched an eyebrow. "I think we’re being insulted, darling," she complained to Seven.

Seven pretended to be angry. "Careful, Commander. You’re not married yet."

Naomi gave Seven a searing look.

Seven pretended to slap her hand over her mouth. "Heavens. Did I say the ‘M’ word again?" she batted her eyelashes innocently.

Kit laughed at her. "It’s okay, Seven. It’s only about the tenth time today. I can take a hint. You’d rather that Naomi and I didn’t live together without getting married first?"

Seven smirked. "Gretchen told me once that if you get the milk for free, you’ll never buy the cow," she advised, though she seemed confounded by the phrase.

Naomi threw a shoe at Seven. "Are you calling me a cow?"

Seven plucked the projectile from the air effortlessly. "Of course not."

Kit giggled. "She’s calling you a milk dispenser," she smarted.

Kathryn shook her head. "My mother has some pretty twisted ideas, if you ask me. Frankly Seven, I’m surprised at you. You and I lived together before we got married."

Seven harrumphed. "That, Kathryn Janeway, is because you didn’t have the good sense to realize you were in love with me until after we moved in together. When I moved in, we were just friends, trying to make a home for Naomi."

"Yeah," Naomi boasted. "And because of me, you two finally got a clue. So cut me a break, Borg-Mom. No more harping on the marriage thing."

Kit suppressed the urge to laugh. "What I want to know is can I have some cookies with my milk? Because I’d buy cookies," she feigned seriousness.

Naomi scowled playfully at her. "You really are a wise-ass sometimes, McCallister."

Kathryn hid her amusement behind her hand. When Naomi and Seven were back at work, she winked at Kit. "I thought it was funny. What do they know?"

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

Late that night, after Naomi had unpacked her things and joined Kit in bed, she lay curled up in Kit’s arms, spent from the physical exertion of moving. Kit kissed her hair, holding the slight Ktarian possessively. "How do you feel about seeing Kieran again?" Kit asked quietly, stroking Naomi’s shoulders absently.

Naomi considered. "I’m excited to have you meet her. She’s a really good friend. And when I left Earth, she was in pretty questionable condition, so it will do me good to reassure myself that she’s okay."

Kit didn’t respond right away, but reflexively tightened her hold on Naomi.

"What?" Naomi asked.

"It’s—nothing," Kit deflected the question. Naomi squeezed her insistently. "It’s just—well, it makes me a little nervous. You used to be in love with her, after all, and she’s this huge hero now, a beloved public figure, and a Captain. I’m just a run of the mill FO."

Naomi rolled up on her belly, peering down at Kit, face soft with love. "You’re not ordinary in any way, Kit," she argued. "You’re only 26, and you’re already a first officer. You saved my life on Jenest—that’s pretty heroic. And I’m in love with you, now, not Kieran. God, how could I not love you, after all the crap Seven gave you today?" she tried to lighten the mood.

Kit smiled. "She was really laying it on thick," she admitted. "Do you think she truly disapproves of us living together?"

Naomi lay back down, snuggling into Kit’s chest. "It’s not that she disapproves as much as she wants things to be settled, once and for all. She told me it would serve Kieran right if you and I showed up on DS9 married. Seven has a hell of a vindictive streak, and an idietic memory, so she never forgets an act of unkindness. She’s still furious with Kieran for dating those two women and not telling me."

Kit swallowed hard. "I wasn’t aware that things are unsettled, Na. Where did Seven get that impression?"

Naomi sighed, realizing she had said too much. "From me," she admitted, ashamed and sorry the second the words were out of her mouth.

Kit untangled herself from Naomi and sat up in bed. "From you?" she repeated miserably.

"Try to understand, love. I’ve had feelings for Kieran most of my life, and that’s a lot to overcome. I’m in love with you, Kit, deeply. But I told Seven I didn’t know how I’d react to seeing Kieran again, and Seven is worried now."

Kit drew her legs up against her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Now I’m worried, Naomi. What are you telling me, that you might want to be with her?"

Naomi’s eyes widened. "God, no. Not at all. I just meant that it might hurt to see her again, kind of like a wound that lingers from a failed relationship. That’s all," Naomi assured her, moving behind her and draping her arms around her lover.

Kit blinked back the tears that had automatically sprung to her eyes. "You’re sure that’s all? Because I want you to be sure, Naomi. I’ve never been in love before, and I don’t want to lose you. I was starting to think Seven was making sense, talking about us getting married. That’s how much I love you."

Naomi was stunned. "Really?"

"Yes. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, not anymore," she replied softly, her vulnerability laid wide open. "One of the reasons I took things so slowly with you is because I wanted to be sure you were over Kieran. I knew if I got involved with you, I’d never get over it if you changed your mind."

Naomi rested her chin on Kit’s shoulder. "I don’t want to even consider my life without our being together," she said through the catch in her throat.

Kit let the tears slip down her cheeks. "If you can still say that after you’ve seen Kieran again, then we should talk about this some more," she murmured, still aching inwardly. "I had better get some sleep, or the Doctor will drag me back to sickbay. And you must be exhausted. You own a lot of stuff," she teased.

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

Captain Kieran Thompson had been waiting for this day for what seemed like an eternity. She fussed over the placement of the eating utensils on the table in her guest quarters at DS9, checked the candles to ensure that they couldn’t drip onto the stasis lids, and glanced impatiently at the wall chronometer. Naomi was late.

Only the most important day of our lives, and she can’t manage to be on time, Kieran silently groused. Kieran had been planning this evening in her mind for months, and wanted everything to go perfectly, from the dinner to the marriage proposal to the blissful lovemaking that would follow. She had worked tirelessly to resolve her grief over losing B'Elanna and Katie, and once those wounds were mended, it had become inarguably clear that she was in love with Naomi Wildman.

I should have seen it even before they released me from Starfleet medical. It was so obvious that we belong together. I can’t believe I wasted time with anyone else. I should never have dated Jamie or Eilish at all. I should have taken a transport to meet up with Voyager and bared my soul to Naomi then, but I was so sure that it would be wrong to take the time from work, extravagant to incur the expense of the trip, and I wanted to be certain I really love her. I was so afraid I wouldn’t have enough to offer her, with B'Elanna so recently gone from me, and I wanted to be able to offer all that I am to her.

It occurred to Kieran only briefly that Naomi might have found someone else in the meantime. No, if that were the case, she’d have told me. Kat would’ve told me. And I was sure when I sent her back to Voyager that she was in love with me. How much could’ve changed since then?

Kieran eased down onto the sofa in her guest quarters, checking the time again. Her mind wandered over the years of her friendship with Naomi, playing back memories of times they had spent together. Naomi, in her teenaged years, had tagged along after Kieran like a lovesick puppy. In her twenties, she had acted so removed from it all, barely aware that Kieran existed. Naomi had thrown herself into her work, and had become excruciatingly private, telling Kieran nearly nothing about her personal life. Kieran had spent a decade dragging every iota of information out of the strawberry blonde Ktarian, coaxing and cajoling to learn the slightest bit about Naomi’s thoughts or feelings.

It had been a lot of work, in retrospect, but Kieran believed it had been worth it. By the time she had taken command of the Sagan, Naomi and she were buddies again, sharing things as old friends would. There would always be a little part of Kieran that was hurt by Naomi’s distance in the years that came between adolescence and adulthood, but she hid the hurt and chalked it up to the price one pays for a deeper connection with another human being. Kieran felt that the distance that Naomi had put between them was a small price to pay, and she was glad she had persevered to keep the friendship alive. And when it mattered most, Naomi had come through for Kieran, nursing her back to health and organizing her life for her when the Captain had been too damaged physically and emotionally to tend to her own affairs.

Kieran checked the chronometer again, vaguely wondering if she should be worried. It was not like Naomi to be late, and Kieran had been notified, at her request, the instant Voyager had assumed orbit around DS9, so Kieran knew Naomi had arrived. When the door chime finally sounded, Kieran nearly jumped out of her skin, her anticipation was so acute.

The door slid open to reveal Naomi Wildman, face aglow and cheeks pinkened with the warmth of seeing her old friend. The two women grabbed each other, hugging fiercely, neither speaking. A neighboring Starfleet officer came down the hall, and Kieran realized they were clinging to each other in the doorframe.

"Come in," she murmured against Naomi’s neck, tugging her into the comfortable guest quarters. "Let me look at you," she enthused, holding the younger woman’s shoulders and gazing fondly at her.

"No, let me look at you," Naomi insisted, casting her eyes up and then down the lanky Captain’s body. "You look so much better than the last time I saw you, KT," Naomi hugged her again after a thorough inspection.

Kieran stared at the gorgeous engineer, mute with the joy of seeing her again. Naomi blushed at the frankness in Kieran’s eyes.

"You’re making me self-conscious," Naomi laughed, turning away to look at the table. "Wow," she added with a whistle. "Are you expecting someone else?"

Kieran chuckled. "No. Why would you ask that?" she wondered, reaching for the wine and the glasses.

"Because the last time you invited me to dinner, you served Chinese carry out from paper cartons," Naomi reminded her in a teasing voice. "This is so elegant, I figured I must not be the only guest."

Kieran flushed with embarrassment. "It’s just the two of us, sweetie," she explained, handing Naomi a glass of wine. "How was your trip?"

"Okay I guess. Thank Kahless we’re going to get Voyager checked over while we’re here. She’s falling apart after this last tour of duty. I was running out of glue and wire," she joked lightly. "Have you seen your new ship yet?" she tried not to squirm with excitement at the prospect of the Supremacy class vessel’s engine room.

"I have—I’ve been touring weekly to monitor the progress, in fact," Kieran replied, sounding more like a Captain than a friend. Then drawing a careful breath, she added, "I’d love to give you the grand tour, if you get back to the Sol system anytime soon."

Naomi sipped her wine, nodding. "That’d be great. But you’d better invite the Moms, too, or they’ll never forgive you. I’m supposed to tell you that they will see you tomorrow, and that they love you."

Kieran grinned. "How are they?"

"Same as ever," Naomi waived her hand dismissively, wandering around the room and taking in the décor. "K-Mom runs the ship and pretends to wear the pants, and Borg-Mom quietly runs everyone and everything, including K-Mom."

Kieran laughed. "Yeah, that sounds about right. Are you hungry?"

"Not just yet," Naomi said quietly, looking at a photo of B'Elanna and Katie that sat on a curio shelf in a corner. "When was this taken?"

"What?" Kieran asked, drawing nearer. "Oh, that. Don’t you recognize the background?"

Naomi shook her head. "No. It looks so familiar, but I can’t place it."

"That’s your Aunt Phoebe’s. This was taken at Kat’s birthday party a few years back," she fingered the silver frame.

"Yep," Naomi agreed. "I knew the setting looked familiar," she glanced up from the photo to find Kieran peering intently at her.

Kieran met her eyes as boldly as she dared, knowing Naomi would see right through her, given the opportunity. "It’s so good to see you, Na," she fought the dryness in her throat. "I’ve missed you so much," she added in a near whisper. Her hands moved unbidden to Naomi’s arms, pulling the slight Ktarian in close to her. Kieran ducked her head, brushing her lips softly over Naomi’s.

Naomi’s curiosity kept her from pushing Kieran away. She had wanted to kiss Kieran her whole life, it seemed, and now that it was a reality, she felt oddly detached from the experience.

Kieran felt Naomi relent, but sensed no reciprocity in the kiss, and she broke away after a brief interlude. Naomi looked up at her through thick, full eyelashes, a puzzled expression on her face. "I think I’m ready for dinner now," she said uncomfortably, "if you are."

Kieran felt her stomach knotting up, but managed to say "Of course," as she moved away from Naomi and pulled out a chair for her. "I hope you like this. It’s something I just learned to make."

Naomi accepted the seat offered. "It smells wonderful. So how have you been? Are you ready for this hearing?"

Kieran served the meal and seated herself. "I’ve been good, finally. It was a long haul to get back to an even keel, but I feel strong enough to do this. I want those bastards to pay for what they did," she said with feeling. "What about you? You’ve hardly written at all. What’s been keeping you so busy?"

Naomi smiled faintly, unable to hide her mirth entirely. "Oh, the usual."

Kieran didn’t like the secretive and mischievous air. It unsettled her. "Something is up," she insisted. "I can see it in your expression."

Naomi tasted her food, evading the comment. "This is very good. Eggplant Parmesan?"

Kieran nodded, smiling. "I’m glad you like it," she was relieved. "I can’t believe you’re really here," she added, digging into her own meal. "Just the other day, I was trying to figure out a way to see you, and the thought no sooner crossed my mind than Jean-Luc Picard showed up to brief me on this mission. And that solved the problem of seeing you again."

"I’ve been wanting to see you, too," Naomi admitted shyly. She wanted Kieran to meet Kit, and she wanted her old friend’s blessing, though she couldn’t say why it mattered so much to her.

"Really?" Kieran’s heart leapt, and she reached for Naomi’s hand. "I’m so glad, Na. I wanted to tell you in person, not over subspace," she said quietly, trying to be restrained.

"Tell me what?" Naomi laid her fork on the table, looking up expectantly.

Kieran swallowed hard. No turning back. Time to admit everything. "That I’m ready, finally. That I’m ready to move on. And as soon as I recovered myself, I knew. I knew that I belong with you," she lowered her voice to an intent whisper. "I love you, Na. I want to spend my life with you," she squeezed Naomi’s hand, her tone fierce with love. "I wanted to see you face to face so that I could ask you to marry me."

Naomi’s face went ashen. "Just like that?" she asked faintly. Surprise gave way to indignance in a flash. "You’ve decided you’re ready, so you assume I’ll marry you?" her anger burned white hot. "Didn’t it work out with the nubile little red head or the perky professor?"

Kieran was startled by the venom in her tone. "Nubile little red—oh, Christ, you mean Eilish? And Jamie?"

Naomi pushed away from the table. "Thank you. So they have names. I’ve known about them for months, but it’s good to finally have you admit it."

"Na," Kieran followed her into the living room, "there’s nothing to admit. I dated two women, neither of whom meant anything at all to me, and I stopped dating them when I realized how useless it was to be with anyone who wasn’t you."

"Oh really? Then why didn’t you bother to mention them to me?" Naomi demanded angrily.

"Because I was afraid you’d be hurt by it. Because it wasn’t you. There were things I had to work out, and I didn’t want to risk making a mess of our relationship to do it. I love you too much to risk your heart, Na. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to truly give myself to you, and I had to work through some fears and self-doubt. Jamie and Eilish were part of that process, but I never loved them. I always loved you. Only you," she took Naomi’s hands and forced her to meet her eyes. "I’m sorry if you thought otherwise, but I swear, Naomi, I wasn’t having a relationship with either of them. You’ve been in similar circumstances yourself, having casual affairs that bear no resemblance to a relationship. But I told you when you left Earth that if I was capable of having a relationship again, it would be with you. I meant that."

Naomi tore her hands away. "You also told me to date other people, and to find my happiness, Kieran. Translation, ‘go away, I’m dating someone else but I’m too fucking cowardly to tell you’. What was I supposed to think?" she turned away again. "And to have to hear it from Geejay, instead of you, just added insult to injury," she accused.

Kieran’s heart sank. This was not the reaction she wanted, not the welcome she wanted. "You were supposed to know that my intentions were good and pure, Naomi. You know me better than that, for God’s sake. When did you stop giving me the benefit of the doubt?"

Naomi crossed her arms defiantly. "Maybe when you started hiding things from me. You told K-Mom the truth, but not me. You were supposed to know that I loved you, and you should have known how hurt I would be that you were sleeping with not one, but two women who weren’t me," Naomi half-shouted. "I practically begged you to tell me to wait for you, KT, and you wouldn’t do it."

"I trusted that I didn’t need to tell you to wait. I believed that if you really loved me, anyone you dated would mean as little to you as Jamie and Eilish meant to me. And I didn’t think it was fair to make promises I wasn’t certain I could keep, Na. This has been a really confusing time for me. Can’t you understand that?" Kieran pleaded.

Naomi hesitated, wanting to understand. Her resolve began to falter. "I know you’ve been through a lot. I’ve never known you to sleep around, KT. It’s totally out of character for you. If you had told me about those women, maybe I would’ve understood, but you didn’t. I assumed you must have decided you didn’t want a future with me. You told me not to wait for you. So I didn’t wait."

Kieran started as if she had been stabbed. "What’s that supposed to mean?" she stood perfectly still, all the color draining from her face.

Naomi’s anger dissipated instantly as she saw the anguish her words caused. "I’m sorry," she slipped her hands back into Kieran’s. "I truly am sorry. I’m with someone, Kieran."

"Okay," Kieran exhaled shakily, pulling Naomi to the couch to sit down while she gathered her wits. "Okay, so you’re seeing someone. I’m asking you to stop seeing them, and to marry me," she stubbornly clung to her illusions. "Will you?" she gazed into Naomi’s hazel eyes, willing her to relent. "You can be my Chief Engineer, Chief of a Supremacy class vessel. Come with me, Naomi. I love you. I’ll make it up to you. It’s just a misunderstanding."

Naomi shook her head piteously. "No, KT, it’s not just a misunderstanding. I’m with someone else and I’m in love with her. It’s not just dating. It’s serious. It’s exclusive."

Kieran stared in disbelief. "It is," she stated, though she meant it as a question. "When were you planning to tell me?"

Naomi glanced at the chronometer. "In about another half an hour. She’s coming by then, because I wanted you to meet her. I had no idea what you were thinking, KT, I swear. I thought we were going to have dinner, catch up on each other’s lives, you’d tell me your news, I’d tell you mine, and Kit would drop by to meet my dearest friend. I figured you were seriously involved with one of the two women. Geejay saw you making out with the red head—Eilish," she corrected herself, "in public. That’s so unlike the Kieran I know, I assumed you must be deeply in love with her. So I put aside my hurt and I went looking for my own path, one that isn’t contingent upon yours, just as you advised me to do."

"Oh God," Kieran groaned, looking at the ceiling. "Deanna was right. Damn her. I should have listened. I should have told you from the start. I’m so sorry, Na," she squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that were threatening. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you so much. We’ve been through so much together," she pleaded. "Can you really, honestly look me in the eye and say you don’t love me?" she asked, her tone one of quiet desperation.

Naomi smiled sadly. "Of course I can’t. I do love you, Kieran. I always have, and I always will. But—"

"No," Kieran stopped her. "No ‘buts’. Please, Na, give me another chance. I can’t bear the thought of not being with you. I’ve worked so hard. You were my goal, always you. I had to get well for you—for us. You loved me once. I fucked everything up, but please, don’t tell me it’s too late to fix it," Kieran choked back her misery.

Naomi felt so sorry for her friend, she almost gave in. "I’m sorry. I can’t give you another chance, KT. I hope you can forgive me," she said softly. "I do love you. I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, walking away from you. But it would be dishonest to try to do otherwise, when I’m in love with someone else. Try to understand," Naomi begged. Seeing the raw pain in Kieran’s soft brown eyes, she stood to go. "I should leave. Kit was pretty nervous about my seeing you. I really need to find her and tell her everything is okay."

Kieran nodded silently, dejected and worn. Peering up at Naomi, she tried one last time. "Are you sure you can’t? I’d give anything to change your mind," she urged the Ktarian to relent.

Naomi shook her head, her heart threatening to break from the sheer sight of Kieran’s disappointment. "I would if I could. I never wanted to hurt you, KT."

Kieran was defeated, but followed Naomi to the door. "I do want to meet her, Na. Give me a couple of days to get used to the idea, okay?"

"Let me know when you’re ready, KT. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll completely understand."

Naomi pressed the keypad and exited Kieran’s quarters, her legs shaking and weak. She started down the habitat ring corridor, but had to rest against the bulkhead. Her throat burned with emotion, her eyes stung. She had hurt Kieran so badly. Fragile, damaged Kieran. How could she be so cruel? But it was honest. That was all she could be.

She tapped her comm badge. "Wildman to Janeway. K-Mom, things went badly with Kieran."

Janeway frowned at the other end. "Badly how?"

Naomi sighed. "She asked me to marry her."

"And you said?" Kathryn held her breath.

"I said no, of course," Naomi snapped impatiently. "What did you think?"

"I’m sorry, Naomi. I should have known," Kathryn admitted.

"I think you had better get over here," Naomi advised. "She was pretty upset."

"Understood. Seven and I will be there shortly. Janeway out."

Naomi forced herself to walk away from Kieran’s quarters, though her steps were reluctant at first. When she looked up, she saw Kit winding around the bend in the hallway, and suddenly, all the confusion fell away. She quickened her pace, as did Kit, and they grabbed each other in the corridor, ignoring everyone and everything around them, clinging to one another amid reassuring kisses and whispered endearments.

"You’re trembling," Kit noted. "Are you all right? Why didn’t you wait for me at Kieran’s?" she asked in a tremulous voice.

Naomi hid her face in Kit’s shirt. "I had to get out of there. I hurt her so much, Kit. I’ve never seen her like that, not even when B'Elanna died."

Kit held her protectively. "What happened?" she asked quietly.

Naomi relaxed into her, but her grip was firm. "She asked me to marry her. She told me the two women I had found out about were just—flings. She loves me. She wants me to join her crew. I told her I can’t. I told her I’m with you."

Kit let out a sigh of relief. "I can imagine how she must feel," Kit said with sympathy. "Losing you would devastate me, too."

Naomi felt hot tears stinging her eyelids. "I feel just awful, but there was no kind way to tell her," she murmured, breaking down. "I thought—"

"Thought what, honey?" Kit stroked her hair consolingly, leaning them up against the wall.

"I thought I’d feel vindicated by telling her. Instead, I just feel like a bully. What’s the matter with me?" she wailed plaintively.

Kit kissed her forehead tenderly. "You’re a good person, that’s what. Should we get somebody to come stay with her? Should we go back to her place?"

Naomi was overwhelmed by Kit’s obvious concern for Kieran, and it made her cry harder. "You’re amazing," she managed through her upset. "K-Mom and Borg-Mom are on their way. But thank you for offering."

Kit smirked. "I can afford a magnanimous gesture. After all, you picked me," she pointed out.

"No I didn’t," Naomi argued. "There was no question of choosing. I love you. I belong with you," she contended, pulling herself together a bit. "But I hated having to hurt her. I love her, Kit. She’s like a member of my family."

Kathryn and Seven stepped off the turbo-lift at the bend in the corridor. Kit released Naomi, who ran to Seven and allowed the towering Borg to enfold her in powerful arms.

"You did the right thing," Seven whispered reassurance to her. "It’s okay, Naomi."

Kathryn approached Kit. "How are you holding up?"

Kit shrugged. "It’s Naomi and Kieran I’m worried about. I’ll take care of Naomi, if you’ll see to Kieran."

Kathryn smiled fondly at her First Officer, touching her sleeve. "Naomi is a lucky woman," she informed the dark blonde.

Kit shook her head in protest. "No, Kathryn. I’m the lucky one."

Seven and Naomi joined them. "And don’t forget it," Seven warned her. "I apologize for pushing you on the marriage issue, but I knew Kieran was planning to propose to Naomi, and I thought it would simplify things if you two beat her to it."

Naomi, Kathryn and Kit said simultaneously "You knew?"

"Why didn’t you warn me, Seven?" Naomi demanded, irritated.

Seven was taken aback. "Kathryn told me not to meddle. I didn’t tell Kieran about Kit, and I didn’t tell you about Kieran. I thought the information should come from yourselves."

Kathryn stared at her in disbelief. "Since when did you ever listen to me?"

Seven stared back, a blank expression on her face.

Kathryn groaned in exasperation. "Never mind. Let’s get going," she tugged Seven’s arm and headed toward Kieran’s quarters.

Kit reached for Naomi’s hands. "Are you going to be okay, honey?" she asked tenderly, a worried expression on her face.

Naomi slipped into Kit’s arms. "It’s just hard, knowing how much pain I caused her," she admitted. "Will you take me home?"

Kit hugged her tightly. "Always, love. Orson is probably wondering what’s become of us, anyway." They parted and began the walk back to the docking port, hand in hand, silently entertaining their own thoughts.

Finally, Naomi broke the silence. "It was so weird, hearing that she wants to marry me," she puzzled over it. "I didn’t want to throw it back in her face, but the only person I can imagine myself married to is you," she looked at Kit sideways as they walked, gauging her reaction.

Kit smiled, squeezing Naomi’s hand. "I’m glad. I was really afraid you’d change your mind about us, after you saw Kieran again."

"It’s funny, because I thought it would be harder—I thought I’d feel more conflicted than I did. But it all became so clear when she kissed me, and I just felt—numb," Naomi reflected pensively.

"She kissed you?" Kit struggled not to sound offended. "Like—how?"

Naomi pulled her close. "Not like you do, I promise. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, I’ve wanted to kiss her my whole life, and when it finally happened, I just felt—empty, and sorry for her. I feel horrid for hurting her, but I didn’t feel like I should have to apologize for falling in love with you."

"I doubt that she’d expect you to, Na. She’s probably just in shock. It sounds like she took you for granted for a long time," Kit pointed out. They came to the junction they needed, and Kit stopped her. "Are you sure you don’t want to find a nice restaurant on the Promenade? We don’t get a chance to go off the ship very often. I don’t want you to be sorry we missed the opportunity."

Naomi looked wistfully down the winding corridor. She knew if they went back to Voyager, she’d stew over Kieran, and that didn’t seem productive. "Dinner, huh?" she smiled wanly.

Kit nodded. "Dinner. I’ve heard Quark’s is good."

"You talked me into it," Naomi agreed, smiling. "You know I love you, don’t you?" she asked, suddenly worried.

"Yes, I know," Kit assured her. "And I love you. More than I can begin to tell you," she dropped her face to catch Naomi’s lips. "Why?"

Naomi leaned against the ring wall plating, feeling spent. "I know I gave you reason to doubt, and I scared you. I’m sorry. God, this is so complicated," she sighed.

"What’s complicated, love? I love you, you love me, we’re together. Simple."

"Nothing’s simple about it at all," Naomi argued. "My loving you hurts Kieran. My loving her hurts and frightens you. I was going to ask you to marry me on this layover, because I wanted Kieran to be at our wedding. But now it would seem cruel to her. I can’t do the things I want to do, because someone gets hurt."

Kit gazed longingly at her beloved. "You were going to ask me to marry you?" her voice was thick with emotion.

Naomi nodded mutely.

"But somehow Kieran’s wanting to marry you made you change your mind about asking me?" Kit sounded wounded.

Naomi considered momentarily. "I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?" she asked, confused.

Kit leaned her forehead against Naomi’s. "You’re being honest, I suppose," she allowed, her eyes filling with tears.

"But it hurts you," Naomi stated flatly.

Kit turned away, struggling for control. "I don’t know why, but it does," she admitted. "I guess because you aren’t sure, and I am." She breathed deeply several times, calming her emotions, subduing them. She turned back to face Naomi, almost balanced again. "Come on," she took Naomi’s hand, coaxing her. "We’ll feel better after we eat."

_____________

Ten year old Naomi Wildman blinked sleepily, shaking the cobwebs from her head. The familiar lights of sickbay assaulted her eyes as her pupils tried to adjust. The Doctor removed the cortical stimulators at her temples, ran a medical scan, and nodded, satisfied.

"How do you feel, Naomi?" he asked gently. "Do you know where you are?"

Naomi glanced around the biobed as several concerned faces watched her intently. "I think so," she replied hoarsely. Her gaze came to rest on Kieran, and she sat up, reaching for her. "I’m so sorry," she apologized, hugging her close. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. You know I love you, don’t you?" she asked timidly, hanging on tightly.

Kieran held her gingerly, grateful that Naomi had not awakened hating her, this time. "I love you too, Na. Are you feeling okay?"

Naomi released her, nodding. "I’m sad because I hurt your feelings." She spied B'Elanna at the foot of the biobed, and her eyes opened wide. "Lanna? Is that you?" she was getting excited. "You’re alive," she stated the obvious, as B'Elanna moved to hug her. "Oh, thank Kahless. I’m so glad to see you," she enthused, grabbing the Klingon impulsively.

"You too, Wildwoman," B'Elanna chuckled at Naomi’s observation. "And I’m glad to be alive," she added, grinning. "It beats hell out of the alternative."

Naomi held her at arms length, as if to reassure herself that the woman was not an apparition. "Is Katie okay?"

Kieran piped up. "She’s terrific. She’s in daycare, right now. Would you like to see her?"

Naomi frowned. "How old is she? No, wait. How old am I?"

Kathryn smoothed the Ktarian’s hair back. "You’re ten, honey."

Naomi swallowed hard. "Wow. Are you sure? That’s all?"

"I’m afraid so," Kathryn replied.

"Good," Naomi decided. "Being a grown up is a pain in the butt."

Everyone laughed at that, nodding in agreement.

"I’d like to talk to Dee, if that’s okay," Naomi added with an apologetic glance at Kieran. "No offense, KT, but she already knows everything that’s happened. It’d be a lot easier."

Kieran nodded. "It’s fine, honey. Whatever you need to do."

Naomi leaned her head against Seven of Nine, who stood by silently. "It’s good to be home," she announced.

______________

The holographic version of Deanna Troi listened carefully, amazed and pleased at the change in her patient. Letting Naomi go back into her hallucinatory world had turned out to be the wisest decision they could have made.

"The thing is, no matter what I decided, I was going to hurt somebody," Naomi was explaining. "I thought I’d feel so much better about myself if I had the chance to reject Kieran, but instead, I felt even worse. She was so hurt. It was like everyone was pulling me in a different direction, and every option had negative side effects. It was exhausting," she related, sighing tiredly. "I don’t mean to sound like a baby, but it made me want to run and find my crayons and a coloring book. Maybe Kieran’s right about my needing to be a little girl for awhile longer. It takes too much energy to be a grown woman."

Dee smiled warmly. "A lot of grown ups wish they could take an hour to play, now and then. Unfortunately, the demands on us often preclude that sort of indulgence. I’m convinced that’s part of the appeal of having your own children—it gives us an excuse to play a little," she speculated. "You know, Naomi, no one will think less of you if you step back from all the grown up things you’ve taken on. You were working yourself pretty hard, and you’ve proven you have the skills to be an asset to this crew. But it’s a lot to ask of someone so young."

"I think," Naomi added, "if it’s okay with K-Mom, I’d like to cut back my time in engineering. At least for a little while. Do you think you could ask her for me?" she asked the Counselor.

Dee nodded emphatically. "Absolutely. I know from my conversations with your mothers, they are both worried that they pushed you too hard, and they have both expressed regret over letting you take on so much responsibility. I think they’ll welcome your decision."

"Good," Naomi sighed. "I’ve got my whole life to work, but only a few more years that I can get away with playing when I want to. I don’t want to end up like Tom Paris—always getting in trouble for trying to play when I’m supposed to be working. Maybe I can get it out of my system while it’s permissible to act like a kid," she noted wisely.

"I think you’re already more mature than he is," Dee quipped, grinning. "I’ll talk to your mothers about your schedule," she promised, organizing her notes on her PADD. "Now that you’ve had the chance to take control of the outcome of the experience, are you feeling any better about the future? You told me that you were afraid you would turn out like the first or the second Naomi, and you didn’t like either one of them."

"I’m not sure I liked the third Naomi any more than the first two. But I feel more equipped to become the person I want to be. I learned a few things from each Naomi. Maybe I can put some of what I learned into practice."

Dee was curious. "What sort of things did you learn?"

Naomi considered at length. "Kieran and I were talking awhile back, and I asked her how I’m supposed to figure out what my values are. I know from this experience, from all three hallucinations, that I value commitment. Marriage was something I pursued or wanted each time, so I know that’s something I want for my life. I know I want a partner who thinks I’m the best thing that ever happened to them, too," she grinned. "The reason I had talked to Kieran was because I was freaking out over the sexuality classes I was taking. Now that I’ve seen how my adult self deals with those situations, I’m not freaked out about it anymore. But I’m not ready for anything that complicated, either. It’s just nice to know that when the time comes, I won’t be afraid or overwhelmed by it."

Dee made another note on her PADD, an approving smile quirking her lips. "Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?"

Naomi cocked her head, thinking hard. "Nope. Is there anything else we need to talk about?"

Dee smiled. "Just one. I’d like you to consider telling all this to Kieran. I’m not saying you have to, but think about it. I believe she’d be more understanding than you think. And I think it would relieve a few of her concerns about your friendship. You were pretty mean to her when you came out of your first hallucination."

"I know," Naomi was shamefaced. "I feel really bad about it, but it just hurt so much to see her. I couldn’t stand it." She bit her lip. "I’ll think about it. It’s embarrassing, though. Maybe I don’t have to tell her every little detail?"

"Only what you’re comfortable with, Naomi," Dee assured her.

_______________

Captain Kathryn Janeway steepled her fingers together, deep in thought. "You’re free to decline, without losing any of the rights you have already," she was saying.

Patrice and Henry Williams sat before her, intrigued but cautiously considering their options.

"You understand why we don’t want to separate them," Kathryn coaxed them. "They’ve only had each other, and who knows what sort of abuse they’ve suffered at the hands of the Restidians."

"Counselor Thompson-Torres has evaluated them, hasn’t she?" Patrice asked reluctantly.

Kieran chimed in. "Of course I have. For all intents and purposes, they’re normal, healthy children. Understandably, Teseque is a bit more dependent and insecure than most nine year olds. She needs security and stability, first and foremost. She’s a very bright little girl, and considering her background, she is very trusting. Jamari is a typical adolescent boy. He’s had to grow up very quickly, and he’s used to doing things his way. It will be an adjustment having parents who make the rules. That will lead to some predictable conflicts. But I’m here to help if things get unmanageable."

Henry ran his hand over his dark hair. "If we decline, do we drop to the bottom of the list for having our own children?"

Janeway shook her head. "If you adopt them, you drop off the list completely. So if having your own children is something you’re set on, you shouldn’t adopt these children. If you decline, you stay in the top position on the list. The next wave of pregnancies, you’ll be first to conceive."

Henry looked at Patrice, trying to gauge her reaction. "What do you think?" he asked.

Patrice smiled. "Captain, can we discuss this and get back to you?"

Janeway smiled tightly. "Of course. But please, try to decide quickly. Jamari and Teseque are in temporary quarters, and the sooner we get them settled, the better."

"Of course, Captain," Henry stood to shake her hand. "Thank you for your time."

The couple exited the ready room, already talking about the possibilities.

"What do you think?" Kathryn asked.

Kieran clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Nope. She wants a baby, not a half-grown child. He likes the idea of missing all the diapering and sleepless nights, but he’ll never sell her on it."

Kathryn sipped her coffee. "Are they patients of yours, or is that just your first impression?" she asked with amusement.

"That’s what my gut tells me. But I’m rarely wrong about these things, Kat."

"I know," Kathryn agreed. "I should listen to you more often. You were right about Naomi, after all," she added apologetically.

"Like I’ve said, it was a judgement call. You’re doing your best. She’s a great kid, Kathryn. All kids get in a hurry to grow up, from time to time. You can’t really stop them. You just have to get used to them being in that limbo between kid and adult," she said dismissively. "It’ll make your head spin."

"Yes, it does. I wonder if Seven and I are up to the task, sometimes. I’m afraid we’re going to end up raising two more," she added.

Kieran finished her coffee, sitting up straight again. "No, someone will want them. If your only option is to split them up or raise them yourselves, what will you do?"

Kathryn frowned. "Whatever you advise, Counselor. I’m not second guessing you on this one."

Kieran beamed happily at her dearest friend. "Let me write this down. It must be a red letter day."

"Wise-ass," Kathryn scowled. "Watch it or I’ll activate Dee full time and replace you."

"I could use a vacation," Kieran pretended not to care.

"You’re getting one now," Kathryn protested. "At least from command school. How much longer until Harry can return to duty?"

Kieran considered. "He’s a lot better, but I’d like to keep a close eye on him, Kat. He’s still depressed, and hasn’t expressed any interest in resuming his shift. Until he does, I think we should keep him inactive. But it’s your call."

"I need him. But I’ll defer to your expert opinion. I don’t want to lose him out of my own impatience," she concluded. "How is Tom doing?"

"I’m less confident when it comes to him. He’s—evasive. He says the things he thinks I want to hear, not the things he necessarily feels. I just get a sense that he’s resisting on so many levels, and I know it’s because he doesn’t trust me."

"Because of B'Elanna and you," Kathryn stated.

"Exactly. I keep trying, but he just resents me so much. I can’t blame him. He lost a lot."

Kathryn nodded. "Keep trying. If he doesn’t make progress, though, make him see Dee."

Kieran looked disgusted. "I suppose I should be glad to have her assistance, but sometimes, I feel like the crew would rather just talk to her than me. Is that petty?"

Kathryn smiled. "You only feel bad because Naomi wouldn’t talk to you. If it were just Tom or Harry, you’d never give it a second thought. It hurt your feelings that Naomi closed you out."

Kieran studied the deck, not meeting Kathryn’s eyes. "Yeah, you’re right. It still bothers me. What could be so terrible that she thinks she can’t confide in me?"

Kathryn smiled knowingly. "Maybe she killed you in one of those hallucinations. You sure didn’t want me to know that you’d killed me in an alternate universe. You withheld that information for a very long time," she accused.

"That wasn’t a hallucination, Kat. It was real. I murdered someone."

Kathryn shrugged. "Murder, euthanasia—tomato, to-mah-to," she said flippantly, grinning wickedly.

"God, you’re impossible," Kieran laughed. "Do you really think Naomi killed me?"

Kathryn chuckled. "She either killed you or married you. Both are equally distasteful," she ribbed her Ship’s Counselor.

"Keep it up, Captain. It makes me feel less and less guilty about that other Janeway," she joked.

Kathryn laughed heartily at that. "Just don’t get any ideas in this universe, Kato." Then more seriously, she added, "Give her time. She’ll spill it all, one of these days. It’s her way. When you least expect it, over a game of Kadis Kot or over a hot fudge sundae, she’ll tell you the whole thing, and you’ll both laugh about it. I’m rarely wrong about these things," she repeated Kieran’s boast.

_______________

Tom Paris sauntered into engineering, looking for B'Elanna Torres. He spied her on a catwalk, up to her elbows in an interface panel that was disassembled. He grinned to himself, thinking how everytime he came to engineering, she was ass deep in wiring.

"Hey Lanna," he called as he topped the ladder.

"Heya Flyboy, what brings you to my hell hole?" she teased, scratching her cheek and smearing grime on it. "What are you laughing at?"

Tom smiled broadly. "You. You should see yourself," he chuckled. "Wait, here," he held up a flat bladed instrument so she could examine her reflection.

"I look like I always look," she contended. "Overworked, filthy, and tired. What’s up?"

Tom folded his hands and leaned on the railing. "I’ve had some time on my hands since my experience on Restid," he began. "I’ve had some counseling with your wife," he added.

B'Elanna stopped working and gave him her full attention. This sounded important.

"I think I’d feel a lot less resentful of her if your marrying her hadn’t cost me my best friend," he said softly.

"Tom," B'Elanna started to argue, "Harry is your best friend."

"Sure, he is now," Tom replied, sounding hurt. "But you used to be. Come on, Lanna. Don’t you miss hanging out with me? Who else is gonna subject you to old TV shows and cartoons?"

B'Elanna softened slightly. "Yeah, I miss you. But I have other things taking my time now, Tom. I have a family. And Kieran is too busy to pick up the slack if I don’t do my part. I can’t run off and play."

"Is she pulling her weight at home?" he asked, encouraging B'Elanna to confide in him. "I mean, she is in command school, pulling command duty, and working full time. That must not leave a lot of time for the baby or you."

"She tries to," B'Elanna defended Kieran. "But I’ll admit, a lot of things fall on my shoulders. It won’t last forever though. She and Harry should be testing soon, and then things will settle down."

"All work and no play, B'Elanna," Tom reminded her. "Kieran wouldn’t want you to never have any fun, would she?"

"Of course not. She’s always telling me to let Neelix babysit for an evening and take a night off, but I like being with Katie. I don’t get to see her enough as it is."

Tom toyed with a laser whisk. "My mom always said that getting away for a few hours made her a better mother. It gave her perspective," he noted. "But I wouldn’t know."

"Okay, tell me what you want, and let me get back to work already," B'Elanna surrendered.

"Meet me for drinks and pool at Sandrine’s?"

"When?" B'Elanna acquiesced.

"Whenever Kieran does her next command shift," he offered agreeably.

"That’d be tonight," B'Elanna advised. "Let me see if Neelix can take Katie. Is Harry going to meet us?"

Tom shook his head. "Not this time. Harry is having some trouble since the trip to Restid. He’s not really socializing, yet."

"Okay. I’ll send him a note, let him know I’m thinking of him. I’ll meet you at Sandrine’s after dinner, unless Neelix is busy. Deal?"

Tom smiled innocently. "Deal."

_______________

Kieran Thompson-Torres looked up from a PADD containing a blueprint of each of the classes of ships in service. Her eyes were tired as she scanned the diagrams of the Constitution class ship currently displayed. She was jolted out of her studies when Rachel McVicker stuck her head around the corner.

"Hello Rachel," Kieran smiled at the pretty Ensign. "Something I can do for you?"

Rachel seemed reluctant, but slipped into the room. "I was hoping I could talk to you," she said nervously, "About the hallucination."

Kieran was immediately concerned. "Sit down," she pointed to the chair opposite her desk. "Tell me what’s on your mind."

Rachel took her seat, not certain where to begin. "I’ve been thinking a lot about the experience," she began haltingly. "There are—issues that have come up because of it."

Kieran nodded. "What issues?"

"Well," Rachel continued, "I—um, you won’t say anything about this to anyone, right?"

"Of course not. Whatever you tell me is privileged. Take a deep breath, Rach, and spill it," Kieran reached across the desk and laid her hand on the nervous Ensign’s.

"I think I have to break up with Noah," she blurted out. "I know he’s one of your closest friends, and I hope you won’t tell him about this. I’m not sure, but I think I have to be with a woman," she explained.

"It’s okay," Kieran assured her. "Noah and I are very close, but I care about you a great deal, too," she affirmed. "You’re questioning whether he can meet your needs, and apparently, you’ve decided he can’t?"

Rachel frowned, but nodded her head. "I love him, KT. I really, truly do. But something is just—missing," she concluded. "And I think that something is that I need a female partner. I feel terrible about it," she sighed in frustration. "He’s so wonderful, and kind, and I wish I could feel for him the way he does about me, but—"

"But you don’t," Kieran supplied. "And no matter how hard you try, you just can’t quite reciprocate," she finished for her.

Rachel nodded slowly. "That’s it exactly. I want to feel it, I want to be totally in love with him, but I’m not. I love him, but I’m not in love," she stated miserably. "When I was hallucinating, I told someone in the hallucination how I had come to realize that I either had to be with a woman, or be alone, because that’s just who I am. And when the hallucination was over, I couldn’t shake the sense that those words rang true to the core of me," she said sadly. "I have to tell him. Don’t I?" she asked pitifully.

"I think you know the answer to that, Rach. Noah loves you, and he sees this terrific future for the two of you. If you can’t see yourself in that picture, you’d better tell him soon. You owe it to yourself and to him, if you know in your heart that your orientation rules out men," Kieran confirmed Rachel’s thoughts.

Rachel slouched down in her chair. "This stinks," she stated angrily.

Kieran smirked. "Yeah, it does, for both of you," she agreed. "So let’s talk about it."

_______________

Kieran Thompson-Torres wanted to check in on Teseque before the end of Alpha shift, and the computer had told her that the little Creoheem girl was in the mess hall. Kieran thought she might spring for a couple of ice cream treats to smooth the way to getting Tessie, as everyone called her, to talk about how she was adjusting to Voyager. Kieran found Tessie sitting at a table with Naomi Wildman, both girls already eating hot fudge sundaes, and talking animatedly about some little girl thing.

Kieran helped herself to a cup of coffee, watching the two girls as they interacted. Naomi seemed so much better since the experimental treatment, and Tessie was looking healthy and better nourished now that she got regular meals and vitamin supplements. She was a pretty little girl with big brown eyes and soft brown hair, and an infectious grin that made Kieran love her immediately. Naomi had taken it upon herself to see that the little Creoheem was never lonely, and always had a friend to confide in.

Naomi spotted Kieran across the mess hall, and waved her over, smiling at the tall Counselor.

Kieran obliged by joining them. "Hi girls," she greeted them as she settled into a chair. "What are you two up to?"

Tessie smiled shyly, not wanting to answer. Naomi touched her hand. "It’s okay, Tes. She won’t bite you."

"That’s right," Kieran agreed. "I only bite Naomi," she joked, grabbing the Ktarian’s arm.

Tessie’s eyes widened in horror, but when Naomi squealed and giggled, Tessie relaxed. "We—were—talking about school. Will I really get to go?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course you will. Everyone in the Federation goes to school. Even grown-ups. In fact, I’m in school right now, myself," Kieran explained.

Tessie gave her a skeptical look. "You’re kidding again, right?"

"Nope," Kieran grinned. "Aren’t I in school, Na?"

Naomi nodded. "She really is," she agreed.

"But you’re so old," Tessie pointed out. "What could possibly be left for you to learn?"

Kieran decided to overlook the insult. "That’s just it, Tes. No one ever stops learning on Voyager. Even Captain Janeway is still learning things."

"Wow," Tessie breathed in admiration. "I figured once you learn to read, that’s about all anyone can hope for," she explained.

Kieran lay a subtle hand on the small girl’s. "Once you learn to read, you’ll realize that there’s more to learn than you ever imagined. And reading will give you the first tool to do it," she smiled warmly. "How are things going with your mom and dad?" she asked pleasantly.

Tessie smiled, her whole face lighting up. "They are so nice to Jamari and me," she reported triumphantly.

Kieran smiled, nodding. "I knew they would be. They are so happy to have you both with them, Tessie," she added, thinking of how overjoyed Alecia and Jonah Curtis had been when they had been offered the chance to adopt the two Creoheem children.

"I know," Tessie bounced in her chair with excitement. "They gave me a toy my first night with them. It’s a little stuffed man named Flotter. Naomi promised to show me the stories about him in the holodeck. And Jamari got a building set that he can make stuff out of. He and Icheb made a model of the Delta Flyer this week, and it looks just like it!" she announced in amazement. Then to Naomi, she said quietly, "I never had a real toy before. I just love him."

Kieran felt a tugging at her heart, watching the little girl who had been so neglected all her young life. She was so grateful that Naomi finally had a playmate, and one who was so much less mature than the Ktarian that Naomi might remain childlike a bit longer, herself. As if Naomi had read Kieran’s mind, she slipped her hand into the Counselor’s. "Yeah, it’s great to have toys," she agreed with her friend. "You don’t get to have them when you’re grown up."

Kieran leaned over and kissed Naomi’s head, just because she could. "That’s right," she told her young friend, "so don’t either of you get in any hurry to grow up," she advised them