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Chapter Text

Her eyes flutter open as the lights in Tom’s quarters come up.   She turns to look at him, and he’s sound asleep, looking far younger and more innocent than he has any right to.  Damn, he’s cute.

He’s also going to wake up soon, and if B’Elanna knows what’s good for her, she needs to leave before that happens.  It doesn’t matter what he said yesterday.  It’s just a roll in the hay for him, and that’s fine, but let’s not pretend it’s anything more, she tells herself.  Human men think that Klingon women are hormone-crazed sluts who just need to bang it out every so often and don’t care about feelings.  And that goes double for a flyboy like Paris, who’s probably had women throwing themselves at him left and right ever since the Academy.

She starts to sit up, and then Tom opens his eyes and smiles at her.  “Morning, beautiful.”

“Uh… morning,” she stammers, hoping he doesn’t realize what she was about to do.

He leans over and chastely kisses her forehead. 

Not just her forehead. Her ridges.

No other human ever kissed those.

“I’m not on until Beta shift,” he murmurs, still in a sleepy haze.  “How about I replicate us some breakfast?”

“Um… yeah.  That’d be nice,” she says bashfully.

“Okay,” he beams at her.  “Waffles?”

“Sounds delicious,” she smiles back at him.

A few minutes later, they sit down with their syrup-laden waffles.  Tom takes a bite and a boyish grin spreads across his face.  “Almost as good as Mom’s,” he declares.

“Did your mom make these a lot?”

Tom nods and swallows another mouthful.  “When my father was in space, my mom would make waffles every Saturday for whichever kids were home – usually just me because my sisters are a lot older – it was kind of like celebrating him not being there.”  After a pause he adds, “What about you, any favorite foods from your childhood?”

B’Elanna tentatively says, “Banana pancakes.  My grandmother made them a lot, and they always make me think of her.”

Tom takes her hand and says, “Well… next time it’ll be banana pancakes.”

“Okay.” B’Elanna smiles at him.  Next time.  Yes, there will be a next time.

Chapter Text

She wakes up to him stroking her hair and gazing fondly at her.  “Good morning,” he whispers.

“Morning,” she whispers at him.  “Um… about last night…”

He freezes.  She isn’t doing this already, is she?  He ekes out a “yes?”

“It was amazing.  Can we… make a habit of it?”

“Yes,” he sighs in relief, and leans in to kiss her.

Just before their lips meet, she spots something just over his shoulder, and she abruptly pulls back and hollers, “HEY!”

His head whips around and in the open window of their dwelling, he sees that blasted monkey with a cheeky grin on its face.  He leaps out of bed, taking half the blankets with him, picks up a piece of wood from one of his carving projects, and chucks it straight at the monkey.  The wood hits the monkey on the arm and the creature bolts off, screeching indignantly.

He turns back to her, and she’s sitting up with the sheet pulled over her breasts and trying her hardest not to laugh.  The absurdity of the situation suddenly registers with him, and he flops back down on the bed and starts laughing too.

After they get control of themselves, he says, “Well, I know what I’m doing today.”

“What’s that?”

“Building a fence to keep our Peeping Tom out!” He huffs in mock annoyance, and they both laugh a little more.

Chapter Text

He programmed himself to reactivate exactly eight hours after they finished last night, and when he opens his eyes, still supine in her bed, he automatically blurts, “Please state the-”

Right.  That was a faux pas, but we can get past it.  “Sorry, Seven,” he continues.  “Old habits die hard.”

Hearing no response, he turns his head and sees that the other half of the bed is empty.  Maybe she’s just in the bathroom… He pads into the bathroom, the door standing open, but there’s no one there.

Of course.  Breakfast.  He adjusts his holomatrix back to the Starfleet uniform – don’t want to give the neighbors a show – and then steps into the kitchen.  “Romantic of you to make breakfast, but I remind you that I don’t need to-“

He stops in his tracks.  No one in the kitchen, either.  “Seven?  Are you home?”

Silence.

He taps his comm badge and says, “Computer, locate Seven of Nine.”

“Seven of Nine is in her office.”

He has half a mind to go speak to her right now, but that will just embarrass both of them, not to mention get him removed from the Institute.  He beams back to Starfleet Medical; long day ahead, might as well get started now.

That evening, after he’s completed his research that day and informed his assistants that if they’re going to sing, they should at least try to stay in tune and on beat, he sits down at the comm station in his quarters.  Better get this over with.  He comms Seven, and she has a slightly perplexed expression on her face when she sees him.

“Doctor.  I had not expected to hear from you.”

“It’s customary to have a chat after a date.”

Seven’s confusion deepens.  “I was not aware that this was a date, Doctor.”

Now he’s the one who’s befuddled.  “Then… what would you call it?”

“A useful data point,” she replies smoothly.  “I have determined that humans place far too much importance on copulation.”

“What do you mean?”

“As Mr. Paris would say, it is… ‘overhyped.’”  She takes a moment to study him.  “I am sorry, Doctor.  I can see that I have upset you.  I assure you it was not any deficiency on your part.  I did not enjoy copulating with Chakotay, and I thought perhaps it would be different with you, but it was not.  I have learned that I simply do not enjoy copulation, and I do not wish to do it again, with anyone.”

“I see,” he sighs.  “Seven, as always, I appreciate your honesty.”

“I appreciate your understanding, Doctor.  I hope that we can remain friends.”

“As do I, Seven.  I still have a great deal of work to do tonight.  Will you be at the Voyager reunion next month?”

“Yes.”

“I look forward to seeing you then.  Doctor out.”

Asexuality has been recognized for hundreds of years, he reminds himself.  And if you didn’t realize Seven was asexual, that’s your own fault.  You are a doctor, after all.  Besides, it’s not as if anything you could’ve done would change the situation.  It’s not a rejection of you. 

So why does it feel like that?

Chapter Text

He awakens with a sick feeling in his guts, memories of strong hands and that talented mouth flooding his brain.  Maybe it was just a dream, he tries to tell himself.  But most of my dreams weren’t that vivid…  Then he turns his head and sees the other occupant of the bed, and no, this is real, and he’s a piece of shit.  They’re both pieces of shit.  Nice going, he thinks, just trashed a marriage and one of the best friendships you’ve ever had, and for what?

He checks the chronometer; it’s 0715, he’s due on the Bridge in 45 minutes and B’Elanna will return from her away mission in just over an hour.  He considers waking up the man sleeping next to him, but decides against it.  No need to make this any more awkward.  Just leave, let him wake up on his own, and we can pretend this never happened.

A realization hits him as he hops into the shower.  When B’Elanna comes back, she will find him, here, naked in the wrecked bed.  She can’t find out.  Ever.  He hurriedly finishes getting dressed and then sets an alarm for five minutes from now.  That will be plenty of time for him to get to the mess hall, slug down a cup of coffee, and grab a protein bar without the two of them having to talk to each other before work.  Not late, not arriving together, no reason for anyone to get suspicious.

He takes his station at two minutes to eight, and at 0800 sharp his friend (if he can still call him that), stumbles onto the Bridge, stifling a yawn.

“Good morning, Mr. Paris,” Janeway says with a jaundiced eye.  “Rough night?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Paris responds casually.  “I guess I just don’t sleep as well when B’Elanna’s not here.”

“Well, hopefully you’ll get some rest tonight.  Her shuttle will be docking in ten minutes.”

That evening, Tom corners him in the turbolift.  He sweeps his eyes over Harry and begins, “Har, about last night-“

Harry cuts him off.  “Nothing happened last night, Tom.”

“But-“

In a tone he hasn’t used since the Hirogen occupation, Harry growls, “Forget it, Tom.  It. Never. Happened.”

The turbolift stops and Harry stomps out, leaving Tom gaping at him.

Chapter Text

“Good morning, wife,” Tuvok intones.  He has been awake for approximately forty minutes, first to deal with his bodily functions, then to do his morning meditation.  The fact that it’s the day after his wedding is irrelevant; he meditates every morning, without fail.  He’s still kneeling on the floor when she opens her eyes.

“Good morning, husband,” T’Pel replies, sitting up in their bed.  “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.  Did you?”

“Yes.  It seems this sleeping arrangement is agreeable for both of us.”

He responds, “Indeed.”

“Husband,” she asks tentatively, “There is something I wish to know about you that you have not yet told me.”

He looks her in the eyes and matter-of-factly says, “Wife, I have no secrets from you.  Whatever you wish to ask me, I will give you a truthful answer.”

“Query: You had a promising career in Starfleet, but you chose to resign and return to Vulcan.  Why?”

“Response: because humans are a singularly frustrating species, and while I admire Vulcans who have made their careers in Starfleet, I find myself ill-suited to the task.  I prefer the company of other Vulcans.”  He pauses to consider it for a moment and then adds, “And I prefer your company over that of all other Vulcans.”

She smiles as much as a Vulcan can.  “I, too, prefer your company over that of all other Vulcans.”

Tuvok returns her hint of a smile and says, “Then it seems that this marriage was a logical decision.”

“Indeed,” she responds, and kneels on the floor next to him.  “We should meditate together.  It would be an auspicious start to our marriage.”

“Agreed.  During our marriage, we will no doubt face difficulties that we will need to meditate on; it is logical to practice now,” Tuvok says, and lights the meditation lamp.

Chapter Text

Chell opened his eyes and instantly felt the worst headache he’d ever had.  Voyager had a big party last night for some visiting alien dignitaries, and he’d tried the aliens’ punch, a fizzy pink concoction with light purple globules floating in it.  At the time, he figured there’d be no harm in it; Bolians could drink Romulan Ale all night and still be fit for duty at 0800.  He was definitely not fit for duty now.  Oh man, what was in that stuff?  Is this what a hangover feels like?  Maybe the Doctor has some detox hyposprays that’ll work on me…

Then he turned his head and saw the other person in bed with him.

He yelped, “Seven?!?”

Seven instinctively sat up, then winced in pain and brought her hand to her forehead.  She looked at him and grunted, “Crewman Chell?”

Oh shit!  What have I done???  I would never… shit, Janeway’s going to shove me out an airlock for this!  He stammered, “Uh, Seven, I don’t know how any of this happened…”

Seven dropped her head towards her lap and began rubbing her temples.  “Nor do I… there is a gap of eight hours, thirty-six minutes, and forty seconds in my memory.”

“I can’t remember anything after 2130 either,” he groaned.  His addled brain started to digest this information, and he didn’t like what it told him. “Does that mean…?”

“It means,” Seven replied with all the composure she could muster, “nothing.”

“Huh?”

“An unfortunate series of events occurred while neither of us were fully in control of our faculties.  We will never speak of it again.”

Chell started to sigh in relief, but abruptly terminated the sigh when he realized Seven was glaring at him.  Wide-eyed, he told her, “No.  Never.”

“Good.  I am going to Sick Bay for a detox hypospray; I suggest you do the same.  Wait 94 seconds after I leave, then you may depart for Deck 5.”

“Y-yes, ma’am,” Chell stuttered.

Chell watched her go, then set a timer for 94 seconds.  Maybe he would survive the day after all…

Chapter Text

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

“AAUGH!!” Celes shrieked.

“Dammit!”  Harry groaned.  “Computer, stop alarm and reset for tomorrow at 0600.”  Harry turned to Celes, who was in his bed white-knuckling the sheets and looking at him wide-eyed with panic.  “Sorry about that,” he told her, shamefaced.  “I’m a heavy sleeper.”

“It’s okay,” Celes peeped.  “Um… I’ll just get dressed and…”

Harry cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Where are you today?”

“Engineering,” she replied with a gulp.

“You can’t be late for a shift there!  Go use my shower; it’ll save you some time.”

“But-“

“That’s an order, Crewman,” Harry said with a twinkle in his eye.

When Celes finished her shower, Harry handed her a freshly-replicated uniform, told her to get going before she pissed off B’Elanna, then quickly kissed her and jumped in the shower.  Never one to disobey orders, Celes slipped into the uniform, leaving last night’s red dress behind, and headed to the Mess Hall for a quick breakfast.

Later that morning, Harry messaged her at her workstation.

HK: I had fun last night. ;)
TC: Me too. ;)
HK: I’m off on Monday night.  Was thinking I’d go to Sandrine’s again after Alpha shift.  Meet me there?
TC: Sounds like fun.  See you then. :)

Chapter Text

Morning light streamed through the window of Kathryn’s quarters at Starfleet Command.  She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of Earth.  Even after two years back in the Alpha Quadrant, every day still seemed like a miracle.  She turned her head slightly and blushed when she saw who was sharing her bed.

They’d run into each other purely by chance; B’Elanna was back in San Francisco dropping Miral off with Tom, and since her transport back to Utopia Planitia was delayed, she’d stopped by a dive bar for a drink… and that dive bar was Kathryn’s usual watering hole.  Kathryn had been so surprised to see her that she’d forgotten about the hapless tourist she was hustling at pool and accidentally let him win.

B’Elanna gave her a Klingon-size hug, then bought her a drink, and they spent the next few hours commiserating over everything that had happened since last year’s Voyager reunion.  Towards the end of the night, B’Elanna threw back a shot of whiskey and said, “Kathryn, I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I haven’t been completely truthful about why my marriage broke up.  I don’t know if you’ve discussed it with Tom-“

Kathryn shook her head and took a large gulp of her beer. 

“-but we were both in love with someone else the entire time.  And running into you tonight, I realized I need to tell you… I love you.  I have for a long time.”

Kathryn tenderly stroked B’Elanna’s cheek.  “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” she whispered, and leaned in to kiss her sweetly.

Back in the present, B’Elanna began to stir in Kathryn’s bed.  “Morning,” she whispered.

“Good morning.  Sleep well?”

“Better than ever.”  B’Elanna grinned at her.  “Can we…”

“Do this again?” Kathryn smiled.  “Of course.  I’ll be at Utopia Planitia all of next week, looking over the progress on Voyager-A.  Can I stay with you?”

“Sure,” B’Elanna said, and kissed her tenderly.

Chapter Text

This isn’t my bed, he thinks as his eyes flutter open.  The sheets are the wrong color, and they have some kind of flowery, girly smell to them.  It’s not B’Elanna’s bed, either; they’re on a break, plus she never wears perfume.

The captain, however, does.

A cocky smile spreads across his face as he remembers.  They were both at Sandrine’s last night, drinking whiskey that may have been a little more real than he let on, and the captain somehow let it slip that she’d gotten intensely jealous when she saw Chakotay kissing some alien woman at their last shore leave.  Chakotay was oblivious, of course.

“Well, Captain, maybe we should fight fire with fire,” he said with a wink.

“What did you have in mind?”

“He’ll be in your quarters for breakfast tomorrow, right?  Let’s give him something to stew about.”

It turned out that she didn’t need much convincing, and the next thing he knew, they were in her quarters, tearing at each other’s uniforms.

Now it’s 0630, he’s naked in her bed, and he can hear the two of them in the next room, chatting as if it was just another Tuesday.  He stumbles out of bed and starts getting dressed.  Her shower is nicer than his, and under other circumstances he’d take advantage of it, but this needs to be full-on Walk of Shame.  Bed head, yesterday’s wrinkled and slightly stained uniform, and a purplish hickey peeking out from the top of his collar.  He grins in the mirror and edges the shirt down just a little more so that the mark is more obvious.

He strides out into the captain’s living room, where she and Chakotay are studying their PADDs while they eat granola.  Chakotay’s jaw nearly falls into his lap when he sees him. 

“Morning,” Tom says nonchalantly, and brushes his fingertips over her shoulder as he walks past.

Just before he reaches the door, she barks, “Mr. Paris?”

He turned around to face them.  “Yes, ma’am?”

“Do something about that uniform.  I expect you fit for duty at 0800.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He replies cheerfully, and then departs while Chakotay gapes at him.

He smiled to himself as he made his way back to his own quarters.  Maybe this would finally get Chakotay to man up, or maybe he and the captain would do this again.  Either way, it’s a win for me.

Chapter Text

“Chakotay?  Chakotay?”

Kathryn’s voice penetrated his dreams, and as nice as it was to hear her, he wasn’t ready to get out of bed yet.  “Mmmmrrrph,” he grumbled, face buried in the pillow.

“Come on, Chakotay, you’ve got that big meeting today,” she continued, gently stroking his hair.

He opened his eyes and saw her leaning over him, already in uniform.  Panic surged through him as he looked for the chronometer.  “I’m not late, am I?”

She continued to run her fingers through his hair and smiled kindly. “No, we still have an hour.  I just thought I’d get an early start – need to review some things beforehand.”

Her words sank in as he sat up.  “We?” He repeated.

“Yes.  You technically weren’t supposed to find out until you walked in, but no point in keeping it a secret now. Just try to look surprised when you get there.”

“Aye aye, Admiral,” he grinned at her.

She kissed him sweetly, and purred, “In here, it’s just Kathryn.”

An hour later, Chakotay walked into the briefing room and did his best to feign surprise as he asked Admiral Janeway and the other brass, “So, what’s this all about?”

She gestured expansively to the window and said, “Captain Chakotay, meet your newest command: the USS Protostar.”

Kathryn thinks of that morning – and the preceding night – now, sipping her coffee on the bridge of the Dauntless.  She knows he’s out there; if anybody could survive out there, he could.  And if anybody can find him, she and her crew can.  I’m coming, Chakotay.  And when I find you, I’ll say all the things I should have said a long time ago.

Chapter Text

“Hey, sleepy,” Joe teased as she opened her eyes.  He was sitting on the edge of her bed, already in his uniform as if nothing had happened.

Sam let out a guttural grunt and mumbled, “What time is it?  Was I asleep?”

“It’s 1030, and yes,” he smiled at her.  She started to sit up, but he laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder and eased her back down. “Relax, Naomi’s studying Astrometrics with Seven until 1600, and then she’s helping Neelix make dinner.  I would’ve let you sleep, but I have to get going; they need an engineer for the away team, and it’s not safe to send B’Elanna with all the radiation.”

“Okay.”  She gave him a quick kiss and said, “Let me know when you get back.”

“Will do,” he told her, and squeezed her hand before he departed.

Sam laid her head back on the pillow.  When she was a young woman, what she’d just done – sleeping with someone else when she was married – would’ve been unthinkable.  But that was before she’d been flung 70,000 light years from everyone she’d ever loved, before she’d had to raise a child alone in the Delta Quadrant, and before she’d come to terms with the fact that despite their captain’s relentless optimism, they were never going to get home.  Joe was in the same boat; his wife gave him up for dead years ago and remarried; his sons now called their stepfather “Dad.” 

Naomi had only met her biological father over hypersubspace, but she worshipped Joe, and that seemed to plug in the hole in his heart.  Lately, she’d been spending more and more time helping him in Engineering, although B’Elanna still wouldn’t let her touch the warp engines.   Naomi was the catalyst for Sam and Joe finally getting to know each other, and friendly chatter turned into late nights talking and filling in each other’s missing pieces.

Sam smiled to herself as she drifted off to sleep again.  She didn’t need to get back to Earth; she was home.

Chapter Text

B’Elanna opened her eyes to sunlight spilling through the windows of their temporary housing in San Francisco.  Tom lay next to her, flopped on his stomach with his face buried in the pillow and his right arm draped over her midsection.  To her left, Harry lay on his side with his face nuzzling her shoulder.  She smiled to herself as she looked them over, both the picture of contentment.

At least, until they wake up.  The homecoming party for Voyager was a raucous celebration, but towards the end of the night, the three of them got emotional when they realized they might never be together again.  She couldn’t remember who suggested it – they’d all had more than their fair share of Andorian whiskey – but the three of them wound up back at the Paris-Torres residence, and high on whiskey and hormones, they’d fallen into bed together.

And damn, that was fun.  But as she’d been told numerous times, Klingons and humans have very different ideas of fun, and now that Tom was starting to stir, dread pooled in her guts.  This is all about to go to hell…

“Morning,” Tom murmured, and leaned over to kiss her tenderly.  He stroked her cheek and glancing at Harry, whispered, “Is he…?”

“Sleeping like a baby,” B’Elanna smiled.

“Mm not a baby,” Harry grunted into B’Elanna’s shoulder.  Dragging his head up to look them in the eyes, he continued, “Last night should’ve proved that.”

“Damn right,” Tom quipped, and kissed Harry in a way that was clearly showing off for B'Elanna.

B’Elanna looked worriedly at the two of them. “So… we’re okay?”

“I am,” Harry said with a shrug.

“Me too,” Tom replied.

Both of them turned to her expectantly, and she smiled with relief.  “So am I,” she told them, and they all dove back under the covers.

Chapter Text

“Paris!”  Chakotay barked, shaking Tom’s shoulder.

“What?” He groaned, squinting in the dim light of the cave.

“Get your ass out of my bed.”  The Maquis captain loomed over him, already fully dressed with no evidence of last night’s erotic activities.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a bed,” Tom snarked.

Chakotay unceremoniously yanked up one edge of the blankets, spilling Tom onto the cave floor.  “Enough, pretty boy.  Get dressed; bounty hunters are after us, and they know they’ll get a hefty reward for your sorry ass.”

“You didn’t think my ass was sorry last night,” Tom replied with a wink.

Chakotay rolled his eyes and growled, “just get going,” as he stomped off.

As he hunted through the cave for his clothes, Tom decided that one-night stands with other Maquis were too much hassle.

Chapter Text

He woke up to the sound of his shower running – water, not sonic – and smiled a little.  Seven had been a bit hydrophobic on Voyager; it was nice to see she’d made progress in that area.

But not this one, he thought ruefully, and then immediately kicked himself for it.  It wasn’t her fault that her parents were the two biggest idiots in the entire galaxy and got all three of them assimilated when she was six years old.  And even if she’d had a perfectly happy life on Earth, he and she could still have wound up in this situation.

The only way out is through, he told himself, and threw on a robe while he waited for her to finish in the bathroom.

When Seven emerged fifteen minutes later, fully dressed and not a hair out of place, she seemed surprised to see him.  “Chakotay… I…  hope I did not disturb you.”

“It’s fine, Seven.  Listen,” he said, tugging at his ear, “I think it’s best that we put an end to the romance.  I’ll always be your friend, but you’re clearly not comfortable with… any of this, and I don’t want to push you into things that you don’t want to do.”

“Thank you, Chakotay,” Seven said, visibly relieved.

Chakotay paused and then added, “Will you be at Tom and B’Elanna’s cookout?”

She nodded minutely.  “Yes.  Now that I am on Earth, I am trying new foods, and ‘burnt ends’ sound rather fascinating.”

He half-smiled at her.  “Good.  I’ll see you then.  Take care, Seven.”

“You as well, Chakotay,” she said with her version of a smile, and slipped out the door.

Chapter Text

Admiral Janeway wakes up at 0500, as she has for years now.  She got so used to sleep deprivation during her last years on Voyager that even after she returned to the Alpha Quadrant, she found that she couldn’t sleep for more than five hours at a stretch.  Most people would find that frustrating, but to her it’s an advantage.

Especially now, she thinks as she skulks out of Chakotay’s and – no, it’s still just Chakotay’s bed.  He and Seven aren’t married yet, aren’t in love yet, may not have even kissed yet.  This wasn’t cheating.  It can’t be cheating when their relationship hasn’t begun.

Still, she has no business being here, and she knows it.  Her past self is next door and will no doubt give her a self-righteous lecture about whatever regulation she thinks has been broken.  I was too damn big a goody-goody, she mentally snorts.  Could’ve gotten the ship home years earlier, could’ve at least taken the other way around and avoided Borg space, but no, can’t ever do things the easy way, can you, Janeway?

Never mind.  She got to have the one thing her younger self will never have, the one thing she stupidly denied herself all these years (even on New Earth, for fuck’s sake).  Even if she fails to get Voyager home earlier, she’ll have this, and that will make her mission a success.

Chapter Text

She wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, and it takes her a minute to realize whose it is.  It’s not Tom’s; the sheets are much too pristine, and Tom would never make his half of the bed with her in it.  Nor is it Chakotay’s; she’s never been in his bed, but she figures it would smell like him, and this bed smells more like a library than Chakotay’s woodsy aftershave.

Oh.  Right.  It’s coming back to her now – Tuvok, the Pon Farr, the only way to resolve it with the holodeck offline.

She sits up and surveys the room for her clothes.  Damn, I’ll need a new uniform shirt.  And underwear. She gets dressed as best she can and then pokes her head out of the bedroom door to see what Tuvok’s up to.  Finding him meditating in one corner of the sitting room, she half-smiles and then asks the computer for a site-to-site back to her own quarters, where she showers and replicates a fresh uniform.

An hour later, Tuvok walks onto the Bridge, the picture of Vulcan fastidiousness, and they exchange their usual polite greetings.  Just another ordinary day in the Delta Quadrant, nothing to see here.

Late that night, after they’ve both retreated to their respective quarters, Tuvok comms her.  “Captain.  I hope that you are well after the events of last night.”

“Right as rain, Tuvok,” she says with a smile. 

“It seems that this will not have an effect on our working relationship.”

“No,” she tells him, “But I do have to ask: what happens the next time you go through Pon Farr?  Will you want…” She trails off, unsure of how to finish the sentence.

“That depends entirely on where I happen to be, Captain.”

“Well, wherever you are, we’ll make do,” she says with a smile.  “Janeway out.”

Chapter Text

The morning after Captain Janeway rescued them from Akritiri, Tom wakes up with Harry snuggled onto him like a child holding a teddy bear.  It doesn’t mean anything, Tom told himself.  Harry had always run cold, and between the dearth of ventilation and the hundreds of humanoids, the Akritiri prison was stultifying.  After a week in there, Voyager seemed arctic by comparison.  He’s just cold.  Or maybe he thinks I’m Libby.  Or both.  But either way, he’s not interested in romance.

Neither of them were last night, of course.  They were both too wrung out, physically and emotionally, and too damn full from their amazing dinner to think about anything other than sleep.

But now, Harry’s just starting to wake up in Tom’s bed, and all Tom can think about is how badly he’s wanted this from the beginning.  You’ve got to put a stop to this now, he thinks.  Forget your broken heart, just keep things from getting any worse and get through this with your friendship intact.

“Morning, Tom,” Harry yawns.  “Sleep well?”

“Yeah.  Did you?”

Harry smiles at him.  “Yeah.”

He pulls away slightly and says, “Harry… I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to keep doing this.”

“Why not?”  

Tom takes a deep breath and finds that whatever face-saving lie he was going to use has died in his throat.  He flops onto his back and stares at the ceiling, then blurts, “I’m in love with you.”

“Tom-“  Harry tries to interject, but Tom won’t let him get a word in edgewise.

“I know you don’t feel the same way and I’m sorry for dumping that on you but I needed to tell you-“

“Tom-“

Tom just keeps babbling.  “-and at least we both have the day off so we don’t have to-“

Harry barks, “Tom, will you shut up already?!?”

Tom turns to look at him with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. 

“Um, sorry,” Harry mumbles.  “But, um, I was trying to tell you that I’m in love with you too.”

“You… you are?”

“Yes,” Harry says, and leans over to give Tom a kiss.

When they break apart, flushed and grinning at each other, Tom says, “It’s a good thing we both have the day off,” and then eases Harry under the covers.

Chapter Text

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

Beverly arched an eyebrow at her.  They were both naked in the morning light, sheets draped haphazardly over them and yesterday’s clothes strewn all over Bev’s quarters.   “You mean last night wasn’t personal enough?”

Kathryn blushed slightly and then said, “Um… no, last night was amazing… but… I do want to ask you something.”

“What’s that?”

Kathryn propped herself up on one elbow and tucking the sheet around herself, slyly asked, “What really happened between you and Jean-Luc Picard?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Beverly replied matter-of-factly.

“Really?”

Beverly rolled her eyes.  “You do realize that you can’t believe anything that comes out of Admiral Patterson’s mouth, right?”

“My father always said you couldn’t trust top brass with bottom-shelf liquor,” Kathryn chuckled.  “But Patterson’s certainly not the only one…”

Beverly grumbled something unintelligible about the Starfleet rumor mill, and then declared, “Well, just for the record, nothing happened before, during, or after our time on the Enterprise.  He’s married to the uniform; there’s no room for anyone else.”

Kathryn winced.  “Reminds me of someone I know.”

Bev looked at her as if she'd just said that the Delta Quadrant had sentient marshmallows. “So you and Chakotay never…”

“No,” Kathryn sighed. “Biggest mistake of my life. But,” she reached up and stroked Beverly’s cheek, “I’ve learned from it.”

“Let’s hope so, because I’ve learned from my mistakes too.”  Beverly gave her a wink, and then leaned down to kiss her.

Chapter Text

She wakes up a little disoriented; this isn’t her bed, it’s not Sickbay, nor is it the holodeck.  She takes inventory of the scene: gray Starfleet-issue sheets that smell like lemongrass and a clarinet in the corner.  Suddenly, last night comes back to her.

Harry’s promotion dinner was a double celebration – promoted to Lieutenant Commander and taking over as Second Officer.  It was almost 0030, and everyone had cleared out of the Mess Hall except them.  She told him, “Congratulations, Commander.  You earned it.”  She was about to get up and go to bed alone, but then a strong hand came to rest on her shoulder and he looked deeply into her eyes before kissing her.

“Captain.  Come to my quarters,” he whispered. It was not a request.

The next few hours are a passionate blur, and now he’s already awake, sitting on a chair across from her and lacing up his boots.  “Morning, Kathryn,” he says.  “Did I wake you?”

“No.  Listen, Harry, I-“

He cuts her off.  “Save it.  I know this was just a roll in the hay with your Number Two, and that’s all I wanted.”

“No, it’s not that,” she sighs.  “Harry… I should have let you go with Tal all those years ago.  If I’d known what was ahead of us… maybe you’d have been better off.”

He snorts, “Captain, we’re both too old to obsess over might-have-beens.  Try to get some more sleep; I’ll see you on the Bridge in three hours.”  He gently kisses her on the forehead and departs.

She stares up at the ceiling and a scowl forms on her face.  You may be too old to think about might-have-been, Harry Kim, but I’m not.  I’m going to fix this – save all the people we lost, give you the chance to have a family, give Miral and Naomi a real childhood.  I’m going to fix it if it’s the last thing I do.

Chapter Text

Seven opens her eyes, spots her clothes on the floor, and hastily tiptoes to the bathroom.  Just get dressed and-

“So that’s it?  Just going to cut and run, like you always do?”

Damn.  She should’ve known she couldn’t out-sneak a Klingon.  She turns around and B’Elanna is half-sitting in bed, head propped up with one arm and a smirk on her face.

“Sorry, B’Elanna, I have an early meeting,” Seven stammers.

B’Elanna rolls her eyes at Seven.  “You haven’t had an early meeting in years.  You’re feeling guilty about this because of Tom.”

“Yes,” she sighs, gazing at the floor.

“Oh, Seven,” B’Elanna murmurs, and gets up – still nude – and hugs Seven.  “I promise you, it’s fine, and wherever he is, he’s happy for us.  He told me as much before he died.”

“He did?”

“Well, he did say he hoped I’d find happiness again… he just didn’t specify with whom,” B’Elanna shrugged. 

“I doubt you’ll find it with me,” Seven murmured, eyes still downcast.

“I did last night, and that’s good enough for me.  Take care, Seven, wherever you’re going,” B’Elanna says, and gives her a peck on the cheek.  “And,” she adds, pointing a chastising finger at Seven’s face, “Stay away from Bjazyl!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Seven replies with a grin, and gives B’Elanna a kiss.

Chapter Text

Chakotay cursed under his breath as the planet’s sun shined into his eyes.  It had been a great shore leave; friendly aliens, beautiful weather, delicious food.  But how did he wind up here, in what looked like an alien hotel room?  He and Kathryn had been dancing and then…

Chakotay turned to his right and saw not one, but two sets of wide blue eyes alternately staring at him and then each other.  “What the fuck?!?  Paris???”

“Chakotay???”

Janeway demanded, “What in the hell happened here??”

Tom self-consciously scrubbed his hair and said, “Well, uh, captain, seeing as how we’re all naked and in the same bed…”

She held up a hand to silence him and involuntarily shuddered.  “Never mind, Mr. Paris.  It’s starting to come back to me.”

Chakotay asked her, “What should we do now?”

“We should find out if anyone on the crew saw us go in together; if they did, we can find a way to do damage control, if not, we’re in the clear.”  She paused for a moment and then rubbed her forehead and said, “God, I committed an egregious breach of protocol and I barely remember it!”

“Neither can I,” Chakotay groaned. “What was in that stuff, anyway?  Maybe we should have the Doctor scan us.”

“NO!” Janeway barked.  “If he scans us, he’ll find out what we’ve been up to, and that’s the last thing we need.  Besides, if the Eufaulians poisoned us, we’d already be dead – or at least wishing we were.”

Tom groaned. “Who cares about them? B’Elanna’s going to kill me!”

Just then, her communicator chirped.  “Doctor to the Captain, Chakotay, and Paris.”

“Go ahead, Doc,” she sighed.

“Captain, I assume the three of you are suffering the effects of vutria root?”

Paris spoke for all three of them.  “What the what?”

The Doctor explained, “The Eufaulians didn’t realize that the vutria root they served last night is a potent aphrodisiac for some humans.  Roughly half the human crew are in similar situations to yours.”

Janeway demanded, “And the rest?”

“Most of the non-human crew were not affected; but Lieutenant Torres and the other half of the human crew have been soundly asleep for the last ten hours.  The Eufaulians assure me that it will wear off in another hour or so, and in fact, a few crewmembers have already awakened.”

Chakotay asked, “Do you think it was an attack?” 

“No, Tuvok and I agree it was merely a misunderstanding.  They were most apologetic and offered us more dilithium as compensation.”

“Right,” she replied.  “The three of us are going to pull ourselves together and get back to the ship.  Tell the Eufaulians I’ll talk with their leader at 1500 hours.  Janeway out.”

Paris, now fully dressed, was tugging on his boots.  “I’m beaming up now.  Hopefully B’Elanna will still be asleep when I get back and I can pretend this never happened.”  As he opened the door, he added, “But for what it’s worth… you two are kind of cute.”

“I’ll take that under advisement, Mr. Paris,” she muttered as she yanked her dress on over her head.  “Chakotay, give me a two-minute head-start.  I don’t think the crew should see us like this.”

“Why not?”

“Because good captains don’t sleep with their subordinates!”

As he pulled his shirt on, he said, “Kathryn, you’re an excellent-“

He stopped when he realized he was speaking to an empty room.

Chapter Text

Every morning, Tuvok awoke precisely at 0745 and prepared to meditate.  This morning was somewhat unusual, as he was not the sole occupant of his bed.  He attempted to slip out unnoticed, but despite his best efforts, Chakotay regained consciousness and made eye contact with him.

“I am sorry, Captain.  I did not intend to wake you.”

“It’s all right.  I was a heavy sleeper, even b- even when I was a boy.” 

Tuvok nodded.  He knew Chakotay had almost said “even before the Year of Hell” but decided not to comment on it.  There was already potential for strong emotions here; no need to add to them by dredging up so many painful memories.

“I thank you for your assistance in helping me resolve the Pon Farr.  I know that is a significant sacrifice to ask of a human.” Tuvok told him.

“Good captains put their crew first,” Chakotay shrugged.  There was a brief silence while they both remembered the person who taught him that.

“Indeed.  I must meditate; I shall see you on the Bridge at 0900, Captain.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Chakotay said, and after finding his clothes, beamed to his own quarters. 

Chapter Text

Chakotay nearly fell out of bed when he saw the half-dressed person stretched out next to him.  “Q?? What the hell are you doing here? Did we…”

Q rolled his eyes.  “Oh relax, Chuckles, no bodily fluids were exchanged. I’ve just been patiently waiting for you to finish doing that ‘sleeping’ thing you humans insist on.  Eight hours, such a waste of time… well for you mortals, anyway.  But I must say, your dreams are most captivating.”

“What??”

In a sarcastic tone, Q continued, “Poor Captain Chuckles. Pines for one impossibly stubborn woman for years, finally gives up and throws himself at the ex-Borg, then is disappointed when she turns out to be an Ice Queen.”

Chakotay pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered under his breath about wishing he could commit violence toward an omnipotent being.

“Oh, come now, Chuckles, I do believe such conduct is unbecoming of a Starfleet officer,” Q teased.

“Why are you here, Q?”

With a snap of his fingers, Q disappeared from the bed and then reappeared standing next to it in a red Starfleet uniform. “Because if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s watching you and Kathy mope.  All the dramatic sighing, staring out the window, starting to comm each other but then telling yourselves it’s a mistake.  Teenagers have more subtlety than the two of you!”

“So do something else,” Chakotay grunted. “You’ve got the whole universe at your disposal!”

“Do something… you know, that’s an excellent idea!” Q snapped his fingers, and in a flash of light, Kathryn appeared in her pink silk nightgown.

She yelped, “Q?!  Chakotay?!?  What the hell??”

“Good morning, Kathy,” Q said, a shit-eating grin on his face.  “You’re looking lovely today.”

She demanded, “What do you want, Q??”

“Oh, it’s not merely what I want!  It’s what the rest of the Continuum wants!  The two of you need to stop mooning and talk to each other, and I’ve paused time for the next two hours so that no one will miss you while you have your little discussion.”

Chakotay and Kathryn could only gape at him and then each other.

With a wicked smile, Q said, “Now, start talking!  The future of humanity may depend upon it.”

Q snapped his fingers again and disappeared from the mortals’ view, reappearing at the Continuum next to his son.

“You think that’ll work, Dad?” Junior asked dubiously.

“There's a 97% chance.”

Junior’s skepticism deepened and he asked, “Does the future of humanity really depend on them?”

“As far as they know,” Q replied airily.  “Come along, your mother wants to spend some ‘quality time’ with us.”  With a self-satisfied smile, Q ushered his son forth.  Either Kathy and that oaf would finally get together, or there would be a universe-altering fight, but whichever it was, they would finally be entertaining.

Chapter Text

Jean-Luc Picard was many things: a proud owner of a proud name, a lover of Earl Grey tea, a connoisseur of wine, and one of Starfleet’s finest living captains.  But one thing he was not was a coward; even Tomalak would grudgingly agree to that. 

When he woke up that morning and heard the shower running in her quarters, it would have been easy to just get dressed and sneak out, but despite his penchant for peace and quiet, Jean-Luc Picard did not sneak.  No, there was a problem here and it must be dealt with; not with bombast and storm but with sensitivity and grace.  Resolutely, he put on his uniform trousers and his undershirt, then hesitantly made his way into the bathroom.  Was this an invasion of privacy?  Did married couples ever do things like this – one of them walk in and start a discussion while the other was showering?  He’d never been married, and the thought of things like this happening regularly made him glad of that.

Standing in the doorway, he called out, “Admiral?”

She sighed and shut the water off.  “For the last time, Jean-Luc, it’s just first names in here.”

“Right,” he stated, unsure whether he should avert his eyes while she toweled off.  “I… hate to…”

“Dine and dash?” She snickered, looking at him as if daring him to laugh too.

Surprised flashed across his face, but he kept his legendary composure.  “I… wouldn’t put it quite like that, but I am required on my ship within the hour.”

“Then you’d better run along,” she gently admonished him.  “Wouldn’t want them giving the Enterprise-E to some young upstart.”  She wrapped a towel around herself and then gave him a quick kiss.  “Take care, Jean-Luc.”

“You as well,” he murmured.  She fondly rolled her eyes at him as he walked out the door.

Later on, when she learned the intel from Romulus and which ship needed to meet the Romulans’ new praetor, she was grateful that she’d kept her distance from her crew during those years in the Delta Quadrant.  Nothing worse than ordering a man you just slept with to go on a mission that might result in his death…

Chapter Text

“Why do you call him JL?  And more importantly, why does he let you?”

“That’s what you wanted to ask me?” Raffi replied incredulously.  “Not whether or not the sex was any good-“

Seven interjected, “Did you not hear the screaming?”

Raffi nodded blushingly and continued, “And not why I left Starfleet or how I got hooked on snakeleaf or why my son won’t speak to me?  You want to know why I call him JL?”

Seven shrugged.  “I could find the answers to most of those questions from either reading your service record or talking to your associates.  But the only other person who can tell me why you call him JL is… ‘JL’ and I find him…”

“Intimidating as fuck?”

“At times,” Seven replied stiffly.

“The nickname started when the Enterprise-E made First Contact with the Atokarians.  Because of a glitch in the universal translators, they… thought we were husband and wife,” Raffi chuckled and shook her head fondly. “Long story short, we couldn’t risk offending them, so we spent the entire week pretending to be married.  I told him that if we were going to pull off the married couple act, I had to have a pet name for him, so I went with JL.”

Seven took a moment to process this.  “What did he call you?”

“‘Darling.’  He couldn’t call me that after the mission because my ex and I were still married, but somehow, I kept calling him JL and he’s never asked me to stop.” Raffi explained with a shrug.

“That was… unexpected.”

“So was this, but I’m grateful for it,” Raffi whispered, and leaned over to stroke Seven's cheek.

"As am I," Seven purred, and kissed her.

Chapter Text

He woke up after five hours of sleep.  Five hours, not one second more or less; that’s what he’d learned to subsist on in the Delta Quadrant, and if he ever got home, he probably wouldn’t sleep much more there.  It seemed that Kathryn Janeway had made similar adjustments to her sleep patterns.  She got up after uttering just enough sweet nothings and went back to work for at least a few hours, if the stack of PADDs on her desk was any indication.

Now she was out like a light, and that was just as well.  She told him that he could use her sonic shower, but he decided against it.  Didn’t want to wake her, plus if he hurried back his temporary quarters, he could avoid waking Burke.

Ransom shook his head as he started getting dressed.  She was correct when she said they had a lot to talk about, but he knew that if he told her the real source of his ship’s power, she’d be asking for his head on a plate.  Everyone’s a saint in paradise, Kathryn.  Hopefully you will never need to learn that lesson to the extent that I have.

It’s too bad.  They understood each other more than anyone else could hope to – the despair at being so far from Starfleet, the fear that their crew hated them, but most of all, the loneliness.  The feeling of being unable to get too close to the crew because you might need to give an order that will result in their death, and simultaneously realizing that you have no other confidants.  We could have had something here, he thought.  But when he learned exactly how Voyager came to be stranded in the Delta Quadrant, he knew immediately that it would never work between them.  That sent a pang of sadness through him; the only real connection he made in the Delta Quadrant, now yanked away.

But if I stick to the plan and get my crew home, then I can give Voyager’s coordinates to Starfleet, get them home a little earlier.  He cared about Voyager’s crew, of course, but his first duty was to his own crew, the ones who’d fought and bled and suffered beside him.  The ones who were not children of admirals, who did not have any Starfleet brass that cared about them.

Yes, he thought, as he nonchalantly strolled back to his temporary quarters.  Stick to the plan and all will be well.

Chapter Text

“Kes?  Time to get up, sweetling.”

Kes inhaled deeply, looked around with a slightly panicked expression, and then relaxed when she realized where she was and who she was with.  Voyager, a lost ship from the other side of the galaxy that felt more like home than the place she’d lived all her life.  Neelix, a trader with a shady past who was one of the few people she knew would never lie to her.

It was a silly thing to do, and at her age, she really shouldn’t need to sleep next to someone anymore.  But when she got into her new quarters the night before, she sank into the bed and felt an oppressive loneliness descend on her.  She’d never really been alone for any length of time – there was little privacy to be had in the underground city, and none at all once the Kazon captured her – and the sensation threw her off-balance.  What did people do when they were alone?  She stared out the window for a time, trying to puzzle it out.

And then Neelix rang her bell, apologetic and awkward, and she remembered why hugging him felt like filling a hole.  That night they curled up in her bed.  He insisted on staying on top of the covers, said he was always too warm, but she knew he’d never really let his guard down since the Metreon Cascade.

“Come on, Kes, don’t want to be late on our first day,” he chided her.

She smiled up at him. “No, we don’t.  What are you doing this morning?”

“Well, I thought I’d make breakfast for the crew.  I’m sure they’re all homesick; they’ll probably appreciate a good meal.  What about you?”

“I’m helping Ensign Kim set up the airponics bay.”

He made a joke about watching out for brash young officers, and Kes reassured Neelix that she only had eyes for him.  That morning, she left her quarters with a smile.  A new ship, new friends, a whole galaxy to explore, and Neelix by her side; what more could she want?

Chapter Text

“What’s your hurry, Starfleet?” B’Elanna snickered from her bed.

Harry stopped tying his boots and groaned, “I’m sorry, Maquis.  I didn’t want to sneak out but I’ve got Bridge duty today and-“

B’Elanna regarded him with an amused expression.  “And Janeway will kill you if she finds out you were sleeping with the enemy?”

“What?  No!  You’re not the enemy!  I just don’t want to be late!”

She rolled her eyes at him and muttered, “Five weeks out of the Academy and already he’s sucking up.”

“I am not sucking up!”

“Are so,” B’Elanna snorted.  “Well, get going.  I can’t let you derail your career before it gets started.”

Harry sat back down on the bed and kissed her, and then slyly asked, “So… you wanna do this again some time?”

“I don’t know, Starfleet… human men don’t usually survive sex with a Klingon woman.  You sure you wanna push your luck?”

Harry blanched.  “What??”

“Kidding, Starfleet… maybe,” she said with a wink.

“Challenge accepted!” Harry grinned at her, and gave her another quick peck before bolting off to work.

Chapter Text

He woke up and heard Chakotay in the shower.  Good, that would give him enough time to leave without any awkwardness.  They both knew what this was for, just a quick hit of dopamine to blot out their past.  Chakotay would never be able to love anyone else the way he loved Kathryn, and Harry couldn’t love anyone, full stop. 

Harry shook his head as he got dressed.  This was a mistake; not because he hadn’t been thinking of Chakotay, or because Chakotay hadn’t been thinking of him, but because there was no reason for him to try to forget, even for a short while.  It was his mistake that got them into this nightmare, and he deserved every second of the agony. 

Chakotay stepped out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist.  “Harry, you don’t have to-“

“Yes, I do,” Harry stated in a tone that would allow no argument. 

Chakotay bargained, “Can I at least make you breakfast first?”

“I’ll replicate something at the lab,” Harry grunted, and left without another word.

Chakotay sighed heavily and started putting his clothes on.  Better bring him extra coffee today…

Chapter Text

The Doctor stood next to Tom’s bed with his arms folded and a smug expression on his face.  “Well, Mr. Paris, I trust you’re satisfied?”

“Whatever you want to believe, Doc,” Tom muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

“It was fine, Doc,” Paris said, hurriedly tying his boots.

The Doctor protested, “Fine?  Fine?!?  What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Doc, it’s your first time.  Everybody’s first time is awkward.  ‘Fine’ is about the best you can hope for, okay?”

“But… I studied!”

Tom sighed in exasperation.  “Listen… this is isn’t really something you can study.  You just have to practice.  But if you want my advice…”

“It’s not as if anyone else is offering,” the Doctor grumbled. 

“You’re a little… selfish in bed.”

“Selfish?  But I thought the whole point of this was to enjoy yourself!”

“That’s only part of it,” Tom explained with far more patience than he felt the Doctor deserved.  “You also need to be sure your partner is having a good time.  Be attentive.  Ask them what they like!  Or if there’s anything that’s, you know, off-limits.”

The Doctor gulped.  “Did I do anything… off-limits?”

“No!  I would’ve told you if you tried,” Tom assured him.  “But everybody’s different, you know?  One person’s good time is another person’s hell no.”

The Doctor took a moment to digest this and then asked, “So… I just have to experiment with every new partner?”

Tom nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“That sounds like a lot of effort.”

“Good relationships usually are,” Tom said with a shrug, and then made an excuse about being late to the Bridge before he departed.

Chapter Text

Kathryn Janeway woke up with a smug smile on her face.  This mission had started out disastrously – several days of fruitless searching for the rebels, only to find them and then be catapulted to the ass end of the galaxy.  Any other Terran captain would have despaired of ever seeing home again, especially when the worthless being who brought them here destroyed his device rather than allow them to have it.

However, if there was one thing she knew how to do, it was make lemonade out of lemons.  The rebel captain was not only clever – he’d have to be to evade her – but damned good-looking too.  He and his pet Vulcan agreed to take up residence in her bedchamber in exchange for the lives of their crew.  At the time, she’d merely hoped to get a little fun out of the arrangement; Mark knew better than to expect fidelity from her, even when they were in the same quadrant.

But it turned out to be so much more than that.

Not only were Chakotay and Tuvok both absolute demons in the sack, they and their crew were much more cunning than any of the Terrans suspected.  It was Tuvok’s idea to eradicate the Kazon and send a message to the other local powers, and Chakotay pointed out that the Ocampans, while hardly useful for physical labor, would be able to take over the remaining Kazon ships. Install a few Terrans on each one to keep them in line, and instead of a lone ship, she’d have an armada.

Yes, this is going to work out fine, Kathryn thought just as Chakotay woke up and kissed her hungrily.

Chapter Text

“You’re up already?”  Harry yawned and hauled himself into a sitting position.  “It’s only 0530!”

“I meditate for thirty minutes every morning,” Vorik replied matter-of-factly as he rolled up his mat.  “I find that it helps me maintain emotional control and gives me a proper perspective on my tasks for the day.”

“You didn’t care about emotional control last night,” Harry teased as he yanked his shirt on over his head.

Vorik avoided Harry’s eyes and muttered, “Even Vulcans have lapses.”

Harry demanded, “So this was a mistake?”

“Certainly not,” Vorik stated, and sat down on the bed next to Harry.  “I find it difficult to maintain emotional control around you… but I do not find that to be a disadvantage.”  

Vorik leaned in and kissed him sweetly.  When they pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against Vorik’s and said, “Me neither.”

Chapter Text

They woke up just as they’d fallen asleep: huddled together despite the ample space in the bed.  Harry gently stroked Tom’s hair, wondering if he’d always had this many grays or if they’d just appeared overnight.  Tom’s eyes were bloodshot, with heavy dark circles beneath.  Harry suspected his own eyes looked much the same.

“Morning,” Tom whispered. 

In a hushed tone, Harry asked, “Did I wake you up?”

“No.  I didn’t sleep much.  Did you?”

Harry shook his head.  “It’s hard to sleep without her.”

“Yeah.” Tom’s voice cracked as he replied, “I guess we’ll have to get used to it.”

“Yeah.”

They lay there for a minute, trying to hold back the tide of emotions and wishing for something, anything, to break this suffocating silence.

“What time is it?” Tom finally peeped.

“0730.  We should get up.  The kids will be home soon and they’ll need us,” Harry murmured, unable to meet Tom’s eyes.

Tom pleaded, “Har, can we stay here a little longer?  I just… if I don’t get up, I can pretend that it’s not real, you know?”

“Okay,” Harry whispered.  “Just a little longer.” 

They squeezed each other tighter, but it wasn’t the same as her arms around them.

Chapter Text

The first thing Chakotay saw when he opened his eyes was B’Elanna zipping up her uniform jacket in front of the mirror.  He could tell that she was disappointed that she’d have to talk to him, but he decided they might as well get this over with. “Early start?”

“Yep.  Seven has another one of her big ideas for improving the warp core’s efficiency,” B’Elanna said with a roll of her eyes.

Chakotay looked down at the sheets and tugged his ear.  “Listen, B’Elanna, about last night…”

“It’s fine, Chakotay,” she told him as she attached her rank insignia.

“I just…”

She turned towards him and for a moment, she almost looked like she might start laughing.  “Chakotay, it’s fine.  We had bad sex.  It happens sometimes!”

Not to me, he thought, but he had the good sense to keep it to himself.  After an uncomfortable pause, he warily asked, “So… we’re okay?”

B’Elanna sat down next to him and smiled kindly.  “Yes, we are.  Now you go find someone who wants you to make love to them, and I’ll go find someone who wants me to fuck them.”  She winked at him and then left for work.

Chakotay climbed out of bed and started getting dressed.  As usual, B’Elanna knew exactly what the problem was.  If only the solution was that easy…

Chapter Text

Harry awoke to find Seven already up and dressed, studying a PADD at his desk.  Morning light streamed through the window of his temporary quarters in San Francisco, almost casting a spotlight on Seven.  Another man might have found it a beautiful sight, might have tried to draw a portrait of her or write a song about it to capture the feeling.  Harry’s only feeling was regret.

He slipped out of bed and threw on his boxers and an old Starfleet Academy T-shirt.  “Morning, Seven.”

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” she replied, sitting ramrod straight in his desk chair.

Harry sucked in a deep breath and said, “Listen, um, about last night-“

She raised an eyebrow at him.  “You wish to schedule further episodes of copulation?”

“No,” Harry began, but Seven cut him off again.

“You wish to copulate again now?”

“No!” Harry yelped, a little more dramatically than he’d intended.

“Then what do you want?” Seven demanded, looking slightly hurt.

Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.  “You and I are incompatible.  You’re very… transactional in bed, and that just doesn’t work for me.”

She nodded minutely.  “I found your performance lacking as well.  Perhaps we agree that we should discontinue sexual activities but remain friends?”

“Yes.  I think that’s a great idea,” Harry said with a small smile.  After a brief pause, he added, “I’m going to a conference on transwarp drive at the VSA next month; will you be there?”

“Yes.  My thesis adviser and I will be presenting a paper on the respective benefits of argyllium crystals versus benamite crystals.”

“I’ll be sure to watch,” Harry replied.  He and Seven shook hands, and then she departed.  He gazed out the window for a moment, grateful for a fresh new day on Earth, then got dressed and headed out for a run. 

Chapter Text

“Good morning,” Gretchen whispers to him, curled up a few inches away. 

“Morning,” he whispers back, and reaches out and strokes her cheek.  “How are you this morning?”

She smiles at him and it’s like watching the sun rise in slow motion.  “I’m well.  And you?”

“Never better,” he tells her with a matching smile.

“I, um, had a good time last night,” she tells him, sounding more like seventeen than seventy.

He grins back at her, and he wonders if she knows how long it’s been since he was this happy.  “Me too.”

Shyly, she asks him, “So… does this mean we’re official now?”

“Yes, it does.”  He hesitates for a moment and then asks, “When should we tell the kids?”

Without missing a beat, she replies, “How about when they get back?”

“You sure that’s enough time?”

Gretchen airily shrugs, and he has a sudden urge to kiss every one of the freckles that dot her shoulder.  “They’ll only be gone three weeks.  At our age, why wait around?”

“Good point,” Owen replies, and leans in to give her a kiss.

Chapter Text

“Morning, beautiful,” Christopher says, and leans down to kiss her on the forehead.

“Morning,” she drowsily mumbles.  “What time is it?”

“Breakfast time,” he says with a boyish grin.  “Come on, I made French Toast.”

“Thanks,” she says softly, and fetches a robe from the bathroom.  She pads into the kitchen and takes a seat at the island, where he passes her a steaming mug of black coffee.  She sips it gratefully, and before she can set her mug down, he hands her a plate full of French Toast with just enough maple syrup and powdered sugar.

She takes a bite and lets out a moan of pleasure.  “My God, Christopher, this is amazing!”

“And here I thought you just wanted my body,” he chuckles.

“It can be both,” she huffs before diving back into her meal.

He comes around to her side of the island and starts rubbing her shoulders.  “How are you, Kathryn?”

“Well,” she says around a bite of food, “we’re on our way to the Watovaka system; sensor readings show the sixth planet has ample deposits of dilithium, and the fourth is an M-class planet where we might be able to add to our food supplies.”

Pike nods as he continues kneading at her tense muscles.  “But how are you, Kathryn?”

“I’m fine,” she grunts, continuing to shovel food into her mouth.

“Do you want some friendly advice?”

She pauses to swallow her mouthful and wipe the syrup off her lips. “Yes, of course.”

“You’re a Starfleet captain.  You believe in service, as do I.  But you need to remember that you can’t pour from an empty cup.  Don’t forget to take care of yourself on this journey.”

“Aye, sir,” she whispers, and gives him a quick peck on the lips.  She squeezes his hand and then murmurs, “Computer, end program.”

Pike and the Enterprise fade away, and she’s left standing in her uniform in the stark holodeck.  Without another word, she walks out the door and back to Voyager’s bridge.