#i did not realize i had this many klingon thoughts

[jaegermonstrous]

So I've got Thoughts on Worf. Disclaimer, these are all heavily informed by own experiences and background, ymmv. Also disclaimer, I haven't gotten around to watching PIC yet. It's on my list, but I'm not there yet. But anyway.

So, Worf in TNG is pretty much our biggest exposure to the Klingon culture so far, and he's pretty consistent with the other Klingons we see. He's a big and tough warrior guy with the Stoic Warrior Thing going on. He's constantly getting his ass handed to him to show the audience the bad guys of the week are Serious Business. He's a pretty awful father, but we have no reason to believe other Klingons are much better. He's apparently got enough of a soft/personable side that he dates Deanna Troi for a bit [no shade to the actors here, but the logic behind that pairing has never worked for me, or at least the writers never did enough legwork to make it believable to my ace and autistic self]. But mostly, he's a Big Stoic Warrior Man from a culture of Big Stoic Warrior Men.

But Worf in DS9 is much less isolated from other Klingons, and it's here where - to me - he becomes incredibly interesting as an example of someone trying to reconnect with their heritage as an adult, especially someone who's either felt pressured to perform their culture "correctly" to an outsider [Federation] standard, or who's never had significant contact with the huge diversity of their culture and kind of internalized the idea that "this is how you perform my culture correctly" from a very limited amount of sources, and therefore become kind of an asshole about it when people [other Klingons] don't do or be as you expect them to.

From the doylist perspective we can just say "well, the DS9 writers really diversified the Klingons," but I find the watsonian perspective far more interesting; here you have Worf, the first and [so far] only Klingon serving in Starfleet, who was removed from his culture as a young child and raised by Humans [no shade to the Rozhenkos here, I think they did their best to raise Worf with an awareness of his origins]. He's been aware most of his life of being the only Klingon in a room full of Humans and other Federation species, most of whom have Expectations of what Meeting A Real Klingon would be like. So Worf, with his mostly second-hand knowledge of Klingon culture and a huge wall of Expectations surrounding him at every turn, becomes what he thinks of as The Ideal Klingon. He's stoic, he's gruff, he barely ever cracks a smile, and when you put him in the room with a bunch of diverse DS9 Klingons, he comes across as a caricature.

Let's look at some of the DS9 Klingons, and I think you'll see what I mean.

First up - Kaga, the Klingon chef. I personally love Kaga, and I wish we had gotten to see more of him. He's our first real indicator that Klingons in DS9 are Built Different. He's cheerful, he doesn't dress in a warrior's armor, he plays that Klingon accordion thing and sings to his patrons. He's a glimpse of what Klingons outside the military are probably like. I love that the DS9 writers did this, showcasing that Klingons [like so many of the non-Humans we get in DS9] are just people.

Next, we have Kor, the Dahar Master. Again, I adore Kor. In some ways he's a throwback to TOS Klingons, who were conniving, and mocking, and just generally Untrustworthy and would 100% stab you in the back if they thought it would get them what they wanted. But he's also a fantastic example of a DS9 Klingon. Kor is old, and tired, and kind of a drunk, and beginning to lose touch with his abilities and reality. But he's also clever, and cunning, and you can really see the intelligence and the ferocity that made him so formidable to Kirk and the TOS crew back in the day. And he's also charming and kind of a sweetheart, and he genuinely loves Dax like family. He's well-rounded in a way we don't get to see Worf be for a while. And even when we contrast Kor with Kang and Koloth, two other Klingons from the same era who align more with the TNG Stoic Warrior Man stereotype, you can see where their characters are much fuller. They have a history and a familiarity with each other and with Dax that really shines through. I mean, they swore blood oaths with a Trill. Yeah, Dax had to work really hard to be accepted by the Klingons, but once Curzon crossed that line, Kang, Koloth, and Kor were ride or die for Dax.

Third - General Martok. Martok is IMO the best foil to Worf, and sort of an example of who Worf might be someday [again, I haven't seen Worf in PIC yet]. And I really love Martok as someone who's very like Worf in a lot of ways, but also highlights how Worf has really made himself into a caricature of what Being A Klingon is all about. Yeah, Martok is big and tough and stoic, but you also see in the prison camp and later how that's not all of what Martok is. He has faith in and respect for his fellow prisoners in the camp, even the Romulans [who you'd think would be the last people a Klingon would ever trust or respect]. He's a Wife Guy, which I just adore. He's got a sharp sense of humor, he's got trauma from being held as a prisoner of the Dominion for so long, he's friends with Local Twink Julian Bashir.

Martok is also the one who talks Worf down from being such a hardline asshole. When Alexander comes aboard the Rotarran, it's Martok who helps them start to build a better relationship. When it looks like the Worf-Dax wedding is off, it's Martok who encourages Worf to soften his stance [yes, it's also implied Dax is pressured into apologizing to Sirella, but that's another post for another day]. Martok is the example of being a Stoic Warrior Man while also being a rounded person.

This isn't to say Worf doesn't grow on his own, but a lot of his growth happens in DS9 in ways that [to me] read as someone who's really only engaged in their culture in a vacuum or in an abstract way, and now he's hanging out with other Klingons, he's Making Friends with other Klingons, and he has the space [and is actively encouraged by other Klingon characters] to soften his stance and be a little more rounded.

I could also talk about Dax here, and her interactions with Klingon culture and how those affect Worf, but I think I'm done for now.

[trillscienceofficer]

from Femme Fatales magazine Volume 6 #2, August 1997

TREK SEXIEST: ROXANN BIGGS-DAWSON, #18

BY MARK A. ALTMAN

Roxann Biggs-Dawson finds her multi-faceted STAR TREK VOYAGER character, B'Elanna Torres, an intriguing challenge. The half-Klingon half-human/former Maquis battles internal demons as she engineers Voyager, and its lost crew, on an odyssey to its home base. "It's very contemporary," explains Biggs-Dawson. "We're living in society now where there's just a lot of internal struggle, as everyone tries to figure out where they belong. The world has gotten so populated and so huge... so many moral and ethical issues are involved just trying to figure out where you belong."

The episode "Faces" doubled the challenge, dividing B'Elanna into two separate characters; one is completely human and one is completely Klingon. Biggs-Dawson translates that episode as the genesis of B'Elanna's character. "It was actually a wonderful learning experience. I was able to delineate these two sides that, up until then, were just sort of metaphors. I was able to personify two aspects of this character, and it was very revealing to me. It just taught me a lot.

"I really saw that as an episode where she has a kind of birth of conscience and of responsibility. She's such a loner that she's still learning how to work within group, and understand what responsibility really is and what it is to be faithful to your friends and to your co-workers. I believe that was an important episode in her development."

Until VOYAGER, Biggs-Dawson wouldn't have exactly volunteered herself as the pin-up woman of the sci-fi cinema: "I wasn't particularly interested in it, though I didn't show any animosity toward the genre. This is mostly because I didn't understand it. I thought of it as more of a cartoon before I got involved and then I realized, 'My God, it's almost like these are the myths of our times; there's all this depth here.' It was really shocking to me. I didn't realize that I missed so much of this lore."

Upon landing the role of feisty Chief Engineer, Biggs-Dawson set to work to find out what she'd been missing. "There's definitely a point," she says, "from the moment got the role that I would watch NEXT GENERATION every night at seven o'clock. If I missed it, I taped it. I got every tape I could find about Klingons from the Paramount library and watched those, and I just became completely taken up by these shows. I just had no idea there was this kind of stuff going on."

The cast became a close-knit family: "We did gel remarkably fast. I mean I've been in other ensemble series and that never happened. Within the first week of working together on VOYAGER, we were all aware that it was definitely a very special energy between us. And then a lot of that happened when Kate [Mulgrew] came aboard. I think that she sort of brought us all together and gave us a leader. But, honestiy, I don't know what it is; it's something in the casting, the way that the fabric of our personalities blend together. We all have similar senses of humor, which is unusual. We goof off a lot."

Speculating on the future of her own series character, Biggs-Dawson would prefer that "she'd be challenged more, almost along the lines of where she's going now but something should basically challenge her loner sense. Somebody could force her to admit that she's a little bit more vulnerable than she pretends to be, I think that it would be nice to also find a character to spar with, who can get her angry and force her to alarm. "I think we do have a little bit of that in the 'Twisted' episode, in which she is really at odds with Tuvok and his rational ways of thinking; it really sparks her irrational, emotional way of thinking. He's a good challenge for her."

[spocks-evil-godmother]

To again enjoy SNW for what it is, I have just finished 2x8 "Under the Cloak of War" and am really enjoying my mixed feelings. There's a part of me that is like, "why did they do this to my friend m'benga" and part of me that thinks, "It would not have had the same impact with anyone other than my friend m'benga."

More so than other episodes in this season, there is something classically Star Trek about the entire setup. A character representing a dichotomy comes on board, the crew struggles with it, and people take action that does not align with Starfleet values, and there is an aftermath. The main difference, I think, is that the action M'benga takes is murder, and that he is a primary character on the show. For many other series, the offense would be less/more removed, and would not necessarily be performed by a main character (a recurring character, perhaps).

I think an episode like "In the Pale Moonlight" from DS9 is a fair enough parallel when I am trying to go to sleep, but: consider. The episode contends with Sisko doing something very Unstarfleet (committing an act of terrorism resulting in the deaths of innocent Romulans) but ultimately decided as necessary in the landscape of the war he is in. Sisko doesn't plant the bomb, but when the war criminal he hires does--the savvy audience member has to realize, Sisko is not naive enough to think that Garak was ever going to play by the rules. But, though this episode focuses on war and terrorism, Sisko is removed from the action. By his account, it isn't even really something he chose.

M'benga chooses to give a peaceful Klingon ambassador a highly dishonorable death, unprovoked, and lie about it to his captain. It's close. It's personal. It's problematic. And it really encapsulates where we are inside the story.

A little over a century later, it will still be controversial to have a Klingon serving as the Enterprise's security officer. Klingons are still feared and dangerous. They are still discriminated against. In that future, conflicts with the Klingons will remain frequent and frustrating, even if they are less lethal. I can't look up the details rn but I feel like the Klingons' tenure as members of the UFP lasts like, less than fifteen years. Those of us who love Star Trek know that though we may come to understand Klingons better, things stay rocky.

Peace, in this moment on Pike's Enterprise, must feel nearly impossible.

And M'benga is the doctor. We know him to have a big heart and a general concern for preserving life after being a soldier. And, more than maybe anyone else in the main group of characters, he has a cool head. He isn't like Erika, who is MAD and is LETTING PEOPLE KNOW. La'an and Una can get upset about the same (administrative) things. Spock is in his Feeling Some Kind of Way era. Chapel is on heartbreak island. Uhura doesn't fight with people but she is Stressed and Wants to Be Good Enough!! And Pike occasionally loses his mind for our enjoyment. M'benga, meanwhile, is a patient, thoughtful dude. And the horrors of war still haunt him, still grip his insides to the extent that when he is challenged with peace, it is not remotely in the realm of things he can accept. It is something to be resisted, disputed, denied, and put down. Period.

I loved this episode because it isn't an easy thing to watch. It doesn't have that characteristic hopefulness that many episodes (of both old and new trek) fall into. It is one thing to tell a story about peace and unity, and entirely another to live it out.

I cannot help but think that Major Kira would understand this episode implicitly.

My only other thought is just that I like that they chose the doctor. I think especially with Alvarado in the transporter buffer, we see that being a doctor on a battlefield means making life or death choices. And, we see that they are choices he has made before and choices he makes again. It is not a happy duty, but however we may feel about it, I think we see why M'benga accepts it as his duty all the same.

[thegeminisage]

ok, tng update time. i'm quite behind! monday we did "deja q," tuesday we did "a matter of perspective," and then wednesday was "yesterday's enterprise."

deja q: NOT as bad as i feared but still not great. turning q into a human was a fantastic idea because in general it helps facilitate empathy when you see a character suffer, which worked a little on me, and then also i greatly enjoyed seeing him suffer because he was so annoying before, lol. guinan and worf kicking him when he was down were the best <3

another smart choice was to have data be the only one who had any sympathy for him - precisely because data's "feelings" ""can't"" be hurt and he's less likely to hold grudges. also, because data is wonderful and it's easy to get behind his cause of reforming q into some kind of functional being

AND it was good that the first time q felt shame it was because data almost died for his ungrateful fucking ass...correct response

unfortunately i still have many problems. during that section right before data's sacrifice move, all of the goodwill q generated by being fun to laugh at kind of evaporated because he was being annoying

SECONDLY, i have realized the reason i dislike q is because his main two personality traits have aged horribly. firstly is the "randumb~ XD" humor (the mariachi band at the end of this ep, the random napoleon soldiers from the other ep, his various costumes...). i think the only person who could ever do that kind of humor well was robin williams and they didn't cast him as q and also he's dead now, so knock it off. his second personality trait is that he's smarter and more powerful than anybody else in the room which he (and the people writing him) seems to think is a license to be an asshole to them, as long as it is charming assholery. think t*ony st*rk, house, bbc sh*rlock. this of course is a deeply flawed premise to begin with, but he doesn't even do it WELL. nothing about his assholery is charming. specifically i am thinking of all the "worf is dumb because he's a big brutish klingon" jokes, which are for sure fantasy racism and border on ACTUAL racism, because they're derivative of horrible antiblack stereotypes. not that q is the only source of this kind of stuff aimed at worf, but it's really damning that it's ALWAYS the first thing out of his mouth and played for laughs and made his "but worf i'm a klingon at heart too!" bit extra unfunny

anyway, bringing in a SECOND q to praise him for his "selfless" act is eeehh considering one q is already one too many and the act wasn't even that selfless. it would've been better if he said the only reason he was doing it was for data, specifically, so he could stop feeling shame - that's more genuine than trying to get me to believe he'd give himself up for that ship of people even if really what he was mostly doing was committing suicide.

nonetheless i DID really enjoy getting to see data laugh at the end. GOOD for him <3 also lmao, the moon is falling, so true. JUST like majoras mask

a matter of perspective: the one thing i don't understand here is the bit where picard is a horrible painter and then data insults his art. like yes it was funny but i thought it would have something to do with the main plot. riker sees events this way and that lady sees them this way. not unlike in the art room where everyone interpreted the nude model in a different manner!

ALSO, WHY IS THERE A NUDE MODEL. does that woman not live and work on this starship. does she not have to command respect from her coworkers the rest of the time. they didn't even do this in the holodeck where that sort of thing would have made sense!! the one time you WANT the holodeck around...

anyway, i thought this episode veered dangerously close to dud territory. trial drama is fine, even though it begs the question of why no lie detector in tng. holodeck recreation also fine in this instance, as was the murder mystery

but why ON EARTH did they feel the need to show a fake version of riker attempting to rape this lady and then have deanna go well that's the way she remembers it because i sense no dishonesty from her :) this is just the true way each of you remembers it :)

LIKE THERE IS A CANYON OF DIFFERENCE BETWEEN RIKER'S VERSION AND THAT LADY'S VERSION. it's not like they can both partially be true. in one instance she flung herself at him despite his clearly being uncomfortable and in the other he forced her despite her asking him to stop!!! like in this case what you do is believe the woman except because riker's our protagonist we know he didn't do it except they never CLARIFY that he didn't do it??? obviously i don't think for a minute that he did, but of all the fucking things to leave open...

anyway i hated it. i actually hated it more than catherine did which may be a first for tng

yesterday's enterprise: TASHA YAR?????????????????????????????

ok, the premise of this was kinda confusing at first, but i don't give a single fuck. TASHA YAR!!!!!!

i was so happy and confused to see her but the more scenes she had...man. like, ok, they did not HAVE to have her make out with this guy. even in death they will not stop doing this to her. but the whole thing where guinan was like your death was meaningless and empty in this timeline so she decides to go back and die in the past instead...GOOD for her

also, i'm a little confused on my canon - i think the battle that other enterprise went back to die in was the one that worf's parents were killed in? which is why he wasn't on the bridge because he fuckin DIED at age 6 or whatever? i guess they must have done enough good to save at least some people??

anyway, ABSOLUTELY adored this one. tasha yar redemption arc. that was the LAST thing i EVER expected to see on tng but here we are. they even made that other captain a woman although lmao in the end they refridged tasha nd this other captain. STILL. if shes gotta die let it be better than the death she got in canon. i'll miss you queen

my one gripe, aside from her boyfriend, is that she and data had a lil scene in the elevator and im mad we could not infer from it whether or not they had fucked in this timeline. rip :(

NEXT TIME: "the offspring" and "sins of the father," which is a normal title that does not at all match the title of a merlin episode i wrote a 130k coda about

[diesoonandsuffer]

I FINISHED TNG!

please clap.

i never actually did an update on my thoughts post since season 3, so i figured before i watched the movies i'll do a summary of my thoughts on the show.

first off it apparently took me over a year to finish it since i started in july of 2022, and it's now august of 2023. this isn't because i didn't like it or anything, i just kept doing other stuff and unlike with tos, i wasn't watching it WITH someone, so i wasn't on a schedule of any kind. however i did enjoy the show, i grew to like the characters quite a lot and i was invested in their stories. it was definitely a different vibe to tos, while tos is quite episodic, campy, and a bit dated, tng is less campy, a bit less episodic, and slightly less dated lol. it did kind of annoy me that we would start to get these longer arcing plots and then they would be abandoned or forgotten. for example at the beginning of the show it seemed like riker and troi were going to have a lot more "drama" in the show but nothing really happened with them, and then at the very end of the show they put her with worf and don't really explore that fully. i don't just mean romantic pairings but that's an example of what i mean. there was also just a general quality difference in episodes, maybe it was more noticeable here than in tos since tng was longer, but towards the end of the show in particular we got really good episodes followed by quite shit ones. by the time the show ended i didn't really feel like it was ready to end, if that makes sense. i feel like it was always toeing the line between being episodic and being a show with long plots. in general -- was fun. i had a good time. i've forgotten a lot from the beginning but oh well.

here i'll give my thoughts on the characters since that's what i used to do. in no particular order:

picard: i really don't have many strong opinions about him, some episodes he definitely was more entertaining than others. i think i would have liked to see him fail more often because generally he seems too capable at times. i do enjoy the rare moments where he loosens up. despite the longer screentime he had i weirdly feel like he has less depth than kirk? let me know if this is a crazy take but i don't feel like picard is a particularly complicated man, he doesn't seem like he has a lot of inner turmoil or conflict about things, meanwhile kirk is going through it at all times. not to constantly compare the two but. well, i just did

troi: the most beautiful woman in the world i'm such a whore when i look at her. when she got a real uniform i whooped and hollered and when she become a COMMANDER bitch?!?!?! i really do wish they did more with her character she had sooooooo much potential with being half-betazed and they never really give it the exploration it deserves, they use it when its convenient and forget when it isn't. i feel like if we had gotten one more season she could have really shined but they were like i know let's spend the last couple of episodes we have with her making her date worf i guess. also why did they give her mom so much trauma. that wasn't nice.

worf: i grew to like him more and more as the show went on, like whenever i would realize the episode i was watching was going to be a worf-focused episode i would get excited. he's one of those unintentionally funny characters which makes him entertaining, but i also find it interesting seeing the way he balances his klingon heritage with his role as a starfleet officer. i love how much he loves being a klingon, and how he always wants to teach other people about it and let them, in turn, learn more about him. he cares deeply and he tries hard even if he doesn't get it right. i know he's in ds9 so i'm happy to see more of him when i finally get to that

riker: we didn't get enough of him tbh. it felt like there would be multiple season gaps between his solo episodes. like for someone who is the first officer he didn't feel very relevant to the show, they stopped caring about his character after a while. he would have maybe a small arc in certain episodes but he was mostly there because he had to be? maybe the sporadic way i watched is effecting my memory on this. but i really like him, i think he's funny and i like his rogue tendencies.

geordi: we also didn't get enough of geordi. i love him but i feel like i barely know anything about him. but i love how genuinely kind and caring he is, and he's also in the scotty position of "the ship would fall apart without him" i feel like every episode picard would be like geordi fix this! help! also i wish he would have kissed the android.

data: hey it's the android. i love this dude. however i am getting a little overexposed to the dude and i know the movies are only going to continue that. idk why by s6-7 they were like "we're out of ideas for data. what if he liked killing and hurt his crewmates and was maybe evil" which is so lazy. like it would all somehow get resolved by the end and everyone would just move on like data wasn't a genocide machine two minutes ago. the finale reminded me of the way data used to be, where he would constantly ask people questions and say obvious things, and i realized i really missed that. he has dreams and shit now he's not really as compelling. he's been a human to me from day 1 so they didn't need to do all that. however brent spiner continues to be very funny.

beverly: um she certainly was there. don't get me wrong i like her but i feel like i never had any strong attachment to her. she didn't get many solo episodes and the last one i can remember (with the fucking. ghost?) was not good. yeah i can't really think of anything else to say. she's fine.

wesley: ok i know he like left the show after a certain point but i would be remiss to mention again that his arc did not end in a good way and he should get to take a NAP why does he have to keep being SO SPECIAL. also why does anyone ever hate this kid he was like 12 he literally was so non offensive to the show. but i did really like every time he came back after wil wheaton left i feel like wesley brings a new perspective to the show that is needed.

honorable mention ro laren: she's my icon right now so i feel like i have to mention her. i would have loved to see more of her in the show, i found her character really compelling and complex. i liked how she was always a bit of a bitch. i'm on the fence of how i feel about her arc ending, i feel like the episode with geordi and the one where she was turned into a kid both were made to help her feel more like the enterprise could be a home for her. they didn't give me much reason to believe otherwise? i don't care about her leaving, i liked that both her and wesley left starfleet even if the show didn't have the time or capacity to explore it, but i didn't fully believe her reasoning. but i loved every time she was there.

i have probably forgotten. many things. i was in the sun all day and maybe have heat exhaustion. but i'm starting generations in like 10 minutes and i realized i needed to make this post before i watched it. thank you for coming along on this year-long journey of me watching tng. we did it boys

[ladyfogg]

May I? - 37/?

May I? - 37/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

Data walked with Captain Picard, heading for the Observation room. They were to meet with Commander Riker and Lieutenant Worf to strategize prior to conducting their interviews. Instead of thinking of that, however, Data was more focused on taking in the world around him, including what he was feeling. 

It was strange to have a sensation but no context or name for what it was. He thought back to what Dr. Crusher had said and focused on what parts of his body were reacting. His abdomen for sure, so he concluded he was nervous. 

Data recalled Faith explaining her anxiety to him and he had to wonder how she managed to get anything done while feeling that way constantly. He was even more proud of her progress. 

“Mr. Data, your head is on a swivel,” Captain Picard commented.

“I am sorry, sir. I was not aware of the intense difference between human sight and my own.”

“I imagine there will be many differences that will require adjustment. It helps to focus on the task at hand.”

As they entered the turbo-lift, Data considered his advice and came to a realization. “I have often heard Faith say, ‘Easier said than done’ and I believe I have a firmer grasp on the concept now.” The lift moved and Data felt the sway again, although this time he anticipated it.

Picard looked at Data with amusement. “One could say the silver lining of Q’s meddling is that you will be able to have context and understanding for why we humans act the way we do.”

“A silver lining indeed. I only wish it had not been done at such a crucial time.”

“I have every bit of confidence that you will adjust.”

They reached the Observation room where Riker and Worf were already gathered. 

“Be seated,” Picard ordered, taking a seat at the head of the table. The other men followed his instructions. “Before we discuss anything further there is something that happened that I feel should be addressed.”

Data had intended on keeping his situation quiet to avoid distraction, however, he understood Riker and Worf deserved to know. As senior officers they often worked directly with him and, if Geordi was not on leave, he would be brought into the fold as well.

“Q has seen fit to test me,” Data explained when he had their attention. “He has given me the full range of human emotions but they have come at a price.”

“He did what?!” Riker exclaimed. “That son of a bitch needs to stop poking his nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“What price?” Worf asked.

“I no longer have the strength or mental capabilities of an android,” Data said. “I am sure there are other factors which have not surfaced yet. Q has refused to undo this until he believes I have learned my lesson.”

“What is the lesson?” Worf asked. 

“With Q is the lesson ever really clear?” Picard posed. 

Riker ran a hand down his face and leaned back in his seat. “When will ever be rid of that maniac? I swear, every time he shows up I sprout new gray hairs. If he wasn’t all-powerful I would have shot him out the airlock years ago.”

“You will be pleased to hear that Faith slapped him,” Data informed him.

Riker smirked and, to Data’s surprise, Worf looked amused as well. “I wish I had seen it for myself,” the Klingon said. 

“It was extremely satisfying to witness,” Picard conceded. “However, Mr. Data now finds himself in a unique predicament. Considering what we have learned about our adversary and his knowledge of the ship, this information must stay strictly between us. Aside from Dr. Crusher and Lieutenant Diaz, the only others who know are in this room and it should remain that way. Counselor Troi will be made aware as well.”

“I ask that you do not treat me differently,” Data said. “I still have my experiences and core memories to draw from and should be able to function properly. Although, I may have questions.”

Riker’s smirk widened. “We would expect nothing less.”

“Given the circumstances, Will, I want you to partner with Data for these interviews,” Picard said. “Since both he and Lieutenant Worf are well-versed in this investigation it would be smart to split them between the two groups.” He paused for a moment before looking at Data. “I also feel Commander Riker will be able to assist with navigating your new emotional state.”

A sense of…something washed over Data. He recognized it as relief though it was more potent than what he previously experienced, and it helped quell his nerves. Not that he doubted the captain or chief of security but if there was anyone among the group who could help him deal with intense emotions, Data would say it was Commander Riker.

“I had a detailed list of questions, organized and based on possible answers,” Data said. “But unfortunately I do not have access to the entire list.”

“That’s fine, Data,” Riker said. “Don’t worry about that. Right now I want to know, how are you dealing with all of this?”

“I am feeling many things though I do not have the words for all of them. What I believe I can identify is apprehension and concern. There is also confusion. It is clear Q knows who is behind this and is aware we are heading into danger, which makes his timing inconvenient. I also do not know what would possess someone to spy on me, and for what purpose.”

“Hopefully that is what we will discover,” Picard said as he stood. “Lieutenant, why don’t you and I take my Ready Room?”

“Aye, sir,” Worf replied. 

“We will take a few minutes to strategize amongst ourselves and then commence with the interviews from there. Dismissed.”

Picard and Worf departed, leaving Data and Riker alone. Once the door closed, the commander asked, “How did Faith react to the news?”

“She was troubled and concerned, which is understandable. I do not believe my reaction to her presence helped the matter.”

Eyebrows raised, Riker sat up with a look of amusement. “And what reaction was that?”

Data did not feel it was appropriate to go into detail about the specifics of his lustful actions, however, he concluded that Commander Riker would be able to provide some insight into the rush of emotions he had experienced. 

“I was overcome with intense desire,” he explained. “Enough to be a distraction. How does one deal with such all-encompassing emotions?”

Riker grinned and reclined in his seat as he considered Data’s question. “Sometimes attraction and affection can supersede all reason, especially when you’re with someone special. The important thing to remember is there is a time and a place for sexual desire. Your partner’s consent and comfort should always be taken into consideration.”

“I understand,” Data said. “Thankfully I do not feel I crossed any lines but I will take care in the future.”

“All things considered, congratulations, Data.”

“For what?”

“If you had such a visceral reaction to Faith, that would mean your initial feelings for her are sound and were correctly interpreted. You do love and care for her, a great deal it seems.”

“Those feelings were never called into question, at least not by myself.” Data felt a brief wave of anxiousness. “Do you think they might have been for Faith? Do you believe she has had doubts about my feelings?”

Riker shook his head. “Not at all. Faith knows how much you love her. It’s clear as day to all of us how deep your connection is. I’m sorry, Data, I didn’t mean to worry you. I was hoping to offer comfort.”

“What will comfort me will be finding who on the ship is responsible for spying on us,” Data said. “The longer it takes to seek them out, the greater the chance that we will lose the element of surprise against our adversary.”

“Agreed.” Commander Riker reached for a PADD that sat on the table. A second later, he brought up the list of interviewees to review. “It seems we have a wide range of suspects, anyone from Ten Forward to the Bridge.”

“That is correct. Whoever is responsible would have to have come in contact with us on a regular basis.”

“But low enough on the totem pole not to draw our attention.”

Data cocked his head. There was a change in him that gave him pause, one he could not properly describe. “Commander, inquiry,” he said. “There is a sensation happening that I do not understand.”

“Try your best to describe it.”

“I feel we should focus our attention on anyone from Engineering. However, I do not have sufficient enough data to support my suggestion.”

“But you think it’s likely Engineering is where the mole is stationed?”

Data pondered for another moment before he nodded. “Yes, I do. I am sorry that I cannot give you a reason.”

“I think you already did,” Riker told him. “Usually an intense feeling of being right but having no logical basis for this is called a ‘gut feeling’.”

“Is that what a gut feeling feels like? Interesting.”

“And it is usually correct. As far as not having evidence, when you have the years of experience you and I have, your gut instinct can be your subconscious putting the pieces together you haven’t been able to.” Riker glanced at the list of names once more. “You have one name on this list from Engineering. What do you say we start there? No reason to beat around the bush.”

“I concur.”

Commander Riker cleared his throat and tapped his communicator. “Ensign Paul Sawyer to the Observation room as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir. On my way but it will take a minute.”

Data did not know much about Ensign Sawyer, only that he had served the Enterprise well during his time aboard. He had seen him around Engineering yet had not spoken to him, and Geordi and Faith only briefly mentioned him in passing. 

While they waited, Commander Riker said, “All of this is so elaborate and complicated, it didn’t just happen. It was planned carefully and methodically. I just wish we knew to what end.”

“As do I. When viewing the situation as a whole, I believe what troubles me most is that my existence has put Faith in danger.”

There was a wash of emotion, a kind of heaviness that grew in Data’s chest once his concern was voiced. 

“Faith is a Starfleet officer. She knew the risks of being on board the Enterprise and accepted them,” Riker reminded him. 

“Yes, but this is not about Starfleet. It is personal. She was taken by Fajo because of how important she is to me and has been drawn into this investigation, again because of me. And while I know she does not blame me, I am starting to realize part of me blames myself.”

Commander Riker laid his hand on Data’s shoulder to offer comfort. “She is here with us and she is safe. Once we find out who is responsible, you will have your answers and hopefully some peace of mind.”

Will he have peace of mind? Data did not know when Q would return him to how he was or even if. And after this crisis was solved, what of the next one? Yes, he understood being a Starfleet officer came with risk, which he and Faith both accepted when joining. But Data’s protective protocol made him think beyond their current situation and about Faith’s mental health. 

“I do not know if peace of mind is possible,” he concluded. “My worry for Faith is growing with every day. Commander, does love typically come with such feelings of anxiety? I know I can protect her in a physical sense, or at least I used to be able to, but I am aware I cannot be with her at all times. Of course, I also cannot protect her state of mind.”

“And that’s what being in love is like,” Riker said. “It’s a wonderful sensation, Data, but it also comes with deep anxieties. The key is to work through those anxieties together, and to have faith that your partner will be able to take care of themselves when you are not around.”

“I already have Faith.”

It took both of them a second to realize that Data had made a joke. It had not done so on purpose, it had just slipped out. Still, it made Commander Riker chuckle in amusement. “Deanna and I always talk about how fitting it is that two people named Data and Faith came together,” he said. 

“That is true. And in response to your comment about her taking care of herself when I am not around, I wish I could be around her at all times.” Data paused for a moment and smiled softly. “I intend to marry her, Commander.”

Riker’s smile was bright as he squeezed his shoulder. “Smart man. Faith is a beautiful, smart, firecracker of a woman. You two make a formidable power couple and I for one can’t wait to dance at your wedding.”

A second later the doors to Observation opened and Ensign Sawyer walked through. The two men gave him their attention, expressions stoic and focused now that their interviewee was present. 

“Commander Riker, Commander Data, you wished to see me?” Sawyer asked.

Though he stood at attention, with his hands behind his back, there was sweat on his brow and he subtly shifted his weight from one foot to the other, both of which Data instantly noticed. 

“Yes, Ensign. Have a seat,” Riker ordered, motioning to a chair across the table. 

The commanders watched him cross the room and sit. While his body was tight with tension, the fact that he was clearly nervous was not surprising given the circumstances. 

Instead of immediately speaking, Riker let him stew in silence for several seconds. When he did speak, it was in a carefully constructed tone that did not betray what he was feeling. “How long have you been with us, Ensign?” he asked. 

“Nearly two years, sir.” Sawyer sat ramrod straight with his hands folded on the table. He kept his gaze on Riker and Data noted he would not look in his direction. 

“And do you enjoy your assignment?”

Sawyer nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. Nothing compares to the Enterprise.”

“What are your thoughts on the current hardships we’ve found ourselves in?”

“Which hardships?”

“Numerous ones,” Data interjected. “The boarding of our ship by intruders, being attacked by an unnamed ship, the capture of myself and Lieutenant Diaz, the Enterprise being shut down. Those hardships.”

Sawyer finally looked at Data and while his expression did not change, Data saw how his hands clenched tighter. “It’s part of being in Starfleet,” he said. “Expecting the unexpected is what we are trained for.”

Riker cleared his throat, pulling Data’s attention to him for a moment. He passed him the PADD, which showed a report they had just received from Lieutenant Barclay. While Data read it, Riker smoothly continued the questioning. 

“Ensign, are you aware or do you have knowledge of anyone on board who has been behaving suspiciously?”

“In what way?” Sawyer asked. His eyes darted to Data briefly before returning back to Riker. 

“There is only one way to behave suspiciously.” Riker’s voice was sharp, clearly unimpressed with Sawyer’s ignorance. “Suspiciously as in out of the norm.”

“No, sir. I haven’t witnessed anyone behaving that way.”

Data put the PADD down. “Ensign Sawyer, can you explain why someone would purposefully recalibrate the shield generator after it had already been repaired and calibrated to the correct specifications?”

At that, Sawyer swallowed thickly and his lips pursed for a moment. “I don’t know why someone would do that. There would be no reason to recalibrate a generator that is already running properly.” 

“Then why did you do so?” Data asked. He found himself growing impatient with the ensign as Riker seemed to be. Months of subterfuge and sabotage had been plaguing them and he was determined to get to the bottom of it right then and there. At that moment, the best lead they had sat across from them. 

“I didn’t do anything,” Sawyer denied. 

Riker opened his mouth but Data spoke over him. “We received a report that you not only tampered with the shield generator but several of our minor systems and I want to know why.”

“Why do you think it was me? There are many others in Engineering.”

A surge of anger overtook Data and he found his hand clenched into a fist. “Ensign Sawyer, do not insult our intelligence and the intelligence of your crewmates. You tampered with the shield and have had access to all areas and personnel that have been affected by our enemy. Now you are going to tell us why.”

“Think carefully before you speak, Ensign,” Riker added. “What you say next could determine your future with Starfleet. From where we are sitting, it doesn’t look good but we are giving you a chance to explain yourself.”

“Commanders, I can assure you, I didn’t—” 

Data slammed his fist on the table and something hot shot through his hand and up his arm. Pain. He registered that what he felt was pain. However, his emotions took hold and pushed the pain out of his mind. 

“Stop dodging and lying,” he snapped. “You tampered with our systems and have the required access to spy for Konro. Tell us why you did and the most you will have to deal with is a court marshal.” 

“Commander Data, at ease,” Riker ordered. To the ensign, he added, “Sawyer, this is serious and your denial can only hurt. We are trying to understand what is happening and why. It’s in your best interest to tell us the truth.”

“Commander Riker, Commander Data, I would never betray the Enterprise,” Sawyer insisted. “I’ve done only what is expected of me as an ensign.”

Data was on his feet in an instant. He reached across the table and seized the young man by the front of his uniform, yanking him out of his seat. “Your actions not only put me and Faith in danger but they have endangered the lives of everyone on this ship,” he yelled, his face inches from Sawyer’s. “I know you are lying and I will no longer listen to your false denials. Tell us what we want to know.”

“Lieutenant Commander Data, that is enough!” Riker snapped as he stood. “Let go of Sawyer, immediately.” 

Data ignored him, shaking Sawyer for good measure. “Speak!” he ordered. 

“Please, please don’t hurt me!” Sawyer begged, trying to pull away. “You don’t understand. I did what I did because I didn’t have a choice. Please.” 

There was a beat of dead silence as the truth they had been seeking came to light. Even still, Data did not let the young man go. “Keep talking.” 

“Please, let me go. Don’t hurt me. I’ll tell you, I swear I will. Please, Commander.”

Riker yanked on Data’s arm, forcing him to let go. He put a hand on the android’s chest and pushed him back from the table, putting space between him and the poor trembling ensign. “If you cannot control yourself, commander, I will order you to leave his room,” he snapped. “Are we clear?”

Data shut his eyes and took a deep breath, as he often instructed Faith to do. He found it helped marginally but the sense of anger was still brimming below the surface. When he looked at Sawyer again, he stared him down as the young man collapsed into his chair, shaking with fear. The expression on Commander Riker’s face had changed from friend to superior and Data tried to pull himself together. 

“I will control myself,” Data said to Riker, his voice still tight with anger. “My apologies, commander.” 

Riker pointed to Data’s chair and the android sat while Riker remained standing. Once he was sure Data was not going to move, he leaned on the table for support as he turned his attention back to Sawyer. “So you admit that you are Konro’s contact on the ship,” he said. “Tell us what happened.” 

“I was approached about a year ago,” Sawyer explained, his voice trembling as badly as he was. “At first, I wanted nothing to do with any of this. I love Starfleet, my whole family has been in Starfleet for generations. When I got my assignment on the Enterprise, it was one of the happiest days of my life.”

“So what changed?” 

“After I turned him down a second time, I received photos of my wife. It’s clear that Konro had been watching her for a while. He said that if I did not do as he ordered that he would…” 

His voice faded, unable to voice the threat. He did not need to. It was the fear in Sawyer that settled Data’s anger. The realization that Sawyer was an unwilling participant caused an onslaught of other emotions that Data could not sort out and did not want to. He was more concerned about getting answers. 

“What did you do for him?” he asked. “How involved were you?”

“I helped the Oz’ods with the shuttle tampering,” Sawyer explained. “And I transferred certain security footage through subspace to Konro. He gave me an encryption code early on so that there would be no trace of our communications.”

“Did you ever rendezvous with Konro in person?” Riker asked. 

“No, never. It was all through written communication, except for one or two video calls so he could show me…show me that he was near my wife.”

That was something that interested Data. “What does he look like?” he asked. 

“He’s a Cardassian but our interactions were too brief for me to give a detailed description.” 

“You will give us access to this encryption,” Data ordered. “And you will provide us with a full list of your interferences.”

Sawyer nodded, tears running down his cheeks. “Y-yes, of course. But what about my wife?”

Riker sighed heavily and hung his head for a moment, before fixing Sawyer with a look of pity. “Ensign, had you brought this to us immediately we could have helped and taken her to a secure location immediately. Why did you feel like you had to do this on your own?”

“He said he would know if I reached out to anyone,” Sawyer explained. “He said he had other contacts throughout Starfleet and this ship.”

“And you believed him without doing an ounce of research?” 

“He had my wife, sir.”

A heaviness fell in the room and Data felt sorry for Sawyer. He remembered what it was like to see Faith next to Fajo and how easily his captor had been able to use that to get him to do his bidding. Was that not what Ensign Sawyer had to endure for months? 

“You should have told us,” Data said. “I could have helped you and you know Faith would have.”

Sawyer hung his head and a few tears fell as he did. “I’m sorry, commander.”

Riker took his seat. “Did you work alone? Or was someone else on the crew involved?” 

“As far as I know, it was just me.”

“We should still conduct the rest of our interviews just to be thorough,” Data said to Riker. When he looked at Sawyer, it was not with anger but with the same pity Riker had. And empathy. “Aside from this discretion, your record is impeccable which should help your case. I do wish you had sought our assistance. Much fear and destruction could have been avoided if you had. I…also apologize for my lashing out. Faith is special to me and she has gotten caught in the middle.”

“I’m so sorry, commander. I didn’t know…he never said he was interested in her. Only that he was interested in you. If I had known…” The rest of his sentence faded into nothing. 

Sawyer did not have much to say after that. He was taken to the brig where he would remain until they were able to finish their mission and return him to Starfleet for proper punishment. The rest of the interviews did not yield additional information which meant that Sawyer had indeed acted alone. Data was able to keep his emotions at bay, though by the end of the interrogations, he had the urge to return to his quarters. 

“You’re probably tired,” Riker explained as they walked to the captain’s Ready Room to give their final report. “I know I am. I imagine Q didn’t just give you emotions but some human functions as well. You are most likely going to need to rest.”

“Interesting. That would mean I will also need to eat which may account for the empty feeling in my stomach,” Data mused. “Despite the seriousness of our current situation, I find myself excited to experience food properly.”

As they joined Worf and Picard, Data was surprised to find Wesley was there as well. All three men were gathered around Picard’s screen and, judging by their expressions, what they were reviewing seemed to trouble them. 

“What’s going on?” Riker asked the moment the doors closed behind them. 

“Mr. Crusher has found something disturbing in Fajo’s files that were sent from Konro,” Picard explained, looking at Data. “I also have received word from Dr. Crusher that you should go to Sickbay at soon as you are able.”

Data registered the sinking feeling in his stomach again and an anxiety spike based on the captain’s serious and careful tone. “What has happened?”

Picard stood and motioned for Data to take his now empty chair. Data did so with hesitation, unsure if he truly wanted to know what was wrong. However, the moment he saw an image of Faith on the view screen, he understood things were far more dire than they originally thought. He scrolled through seemingly endless photos of his partner, some of her alone in Engineering and others of them together. 

“Where did these originate?” he asked, looking at the captain and Wesley. 

“Taken from our own security footage the leak sent to his contact,” Picard told him. “Then it seems his contact sent them to Fajo. Or Fajo stole them. It’s hard to say.”

“We’ve rooted out Ensign Sawyer as the culprit,” Riker said. “I’ve already had security bring him to the brig. He has given us his contact’s encryption code and what channels they used to communicate. He’s expected to make contact in a few hours as part of a regular report. Not visually at least but verbally. Sawyer agreed to assist in writing a response that will not draw suspicion.” 

“Captain, you said I am required in Sickbay, for what purpose?” Data asked. 

“There was an incident in Engineering. Ms. Diaz was not seriously injured but—”

Data did not stick around to hear the rest of the sentence. He was out of his seat and through the doors the second Faith’s name was mentioned. No one tried to stop him or follow. There was a sense of urgency that drove Data as a different type of fear took over. He had not realized there were varying versions of the same emotions and if it had been any other situation he would have paused to examine the phenomenon. 

The turbo-lift was too slow for his liking but once the doors opened, he bolted for Sickbay. 

Dr. Crusher was tending to someone when he arrived, however, she turned to him when he spoke, “Where is Faith? What has happened to her?” he asked.

“Data, you can relax, Faith is alright.”

“Where is she?” He made a move towards the private rooms but Dr. Crusher blocked his path. 

“She is resting right now and I will let you in to see her but not like this,” she said in a stern voice. “I understand you are probably overwhelmed right now. However, bursting into her room riled up is ill-advised. Take a deep breath with me.”

Data automatically followed her instructions, counting in his head as he did. It took twenty seconds for the emotional rush to settle.

“Dr. Crusher, I apologize for my abruptness,” he said. “Please tell me what is wrong with Faith.”

“She had a major anxiety attack to the point where she required sedation. Counselor Troi is in there with her now so she is not alone.”

Date sighed with relief and the intense urges melted into an elevated level of concern. While he was glad Faith was not physically injured, he was troubled by her anxiety attack. It had been months since the last incident and even then it had not been extreme enough to warrant medical attention.

Considering what he had been shown by the captain, he was able to deduce the trigger. “Was she shown the photos?” he asked. 

Dr. Crusher nodded. “Yes, she saw them. Troi and I did as well.”

“May I see her now, doctor?”

With a soft smile, Dr. Crusher stepped aside and motioned for Data to go ahead. With a grateful nod, he walked deeper into Sickbay and towards the private rooms. There was only one with the door closed. When he poked his head in, he saw Faith asleep on the bed. 

Counselor Troi sat beside her, smiling at Data as he entered. However, the moment he did, her smile fell. “Data, why am I sensing such strong emotions from you? How am I sensing them?”

“Q’s meddling,” Data explained. “Dr. Crusher or Captain Picard can explain further. How is she?”

“She woke briefly but drifted off some time ago,” Deanna said as she got to her feet. “The sedative was a powerful one but should be wearing off shortly. I’ll give you two some privacy and go see when you can take her to your quarters.”

“Thank you, counselor, for being here when I could not.”

Deanna offered him a hug which he gladly accepted, along with the sense of comfort it provided. As she left, he took her place at Faith’s bedside. The first thing he noticed was the gloves on her hands. He did not know their purpose until he saw a red mark on her collarbone. Carefully, he peeled back the collar of her uniform to reveal the angry scratches. 

“Oh, Faith,” he said softly.

His voice stirred her and when he placed his hand on her cheek, she opened her eyes. “Data?”

“I am here, mi alma.”

Her gloved hand came to rest over his. “Did they tell you?”

Data nodded, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “They showed me the pictures. And told me of your attack.”

“We were wrong, Data. I was just as much a focus as you were.”

“So it would seem. Faith, I—” He paused, unsure of how he wanted to finish his sentence. “I am sorry that you were pulled into this by your association with me.”

“Hey,” Faith said, cupping his chin. “This isn’t your fault. You aren’t to blame. I’m not mad at you, I’m pissed at the person who’s been spying on us this whole time.”

“We found the person responsible,” he told her. “He has been taken to the brig and will face the consequences. Thankfully, he did not know of our plane to intercept so we still have the element of surprise.”

Faith took a steady breath and her hand fell onto the bed, too weak to remain upright. “Good. Who was it?”

Data hesitated to tell her, however, given her sedation, he concluded it was as good a time as any to let her know. “Ensign Sawyer.”

Tears filled her eyes. “God damn it. He was right under my nose this whole time.”

“While it does not excuse his behavior, he was coerced and his family threatened. He did not and does not harbor ill will towards you or me.”

Faith took another steady breath and nodded in agreement. “That’s something at least. Can you take me home? I just want to be in our bed.”

“Counselor Troi is speaking with Dr. Crusher now. I will have you out of here soon.”

Within seconds there was a knock on the door. Dr. Crusher peeked in and, when she saw that Faith was awake, entered the room with her signature warm smile. “How are you feeling, Faith?” she asked, standing on the other side of Faith’s bed. 

“My head is clearing a bit,” Faith told her. “But I’m still really groggy.”

“Unfortunately, you will be for a few hours. However, I think it’s safe for Data to escort you to your quarters. I’ve already sent word to keep you off the rotation for the next twenty-four hours as a precaution, due to the sedative.”

“Thank you, Beverly.”

“Yes, thank you, Dr. Crusher,” Data added. When she left, he smiled at Faith and smoothed her hair back from her face. “Are you ready to try to sit up?”

“Yeah, give me a hand.”

Together they worked to get Faith into a sitting position. Her movements were slow but she appeared more clearheaded than when Data arrived. She removed the gloves and laid them next to her, before reaching to touch the scratches. Dr. Crusher must have treated them earlier because they appeared less irritated, though it would take hours for them to fully disappear. Data was overcome by a plethora of emotions and the only way he felt to show them was to wrap his arms around Faith’s middle and hug her tight. Still sitting, he buried his face in her chest and she slid her arms around his shoulders, cradling his head close. 

They sat that way for a time, neither willing to break the silence but both knowing the magnitude of the events of the day would have repercussions. Data drew back just enough to look up at Faith, who cupped his face and pulled him into a soft kiss. He reciprocated, arms still tight around her waist. He was vaguely aware that he was able to hug Faith without the worry of hurting her, a small consolation given the circumstances. 

When their lips parted, Faith kept her forehead pressed to his. “Take me home, Data,” she said, voice small and heavy with emotion. 

Data did not verbally respond, only nodded as he leaned in for another kiss. 

[storymaker14]

Ready Room (House of Worf Part I)

[This was originally posted by me on another site on 24 July 2019; it has been copied here without change.]

To no one's surprise, Star Trek has been on my mind for a while... even before the new series was announced, there was a story I wanted to see told. With where the books sit, and with whatever the hell Star Trek: Picard will mean to all that, a scene popped into my head last night and would not leave me alone. So, in my own awkward style, here goes:

The ready room door chimed. "Come," said the voice within.

Commander Worf did as he was bidden, standing before Picard's desk as he cleared the last few items off it, leaving only a single padd. "Mister Worf," the bald human said with a smile, though it did not reach its usual extents. "I'm glad you're here."

Worf didn't move from his rigid stance, even as he asked, "Do you require any help--" He had almost reflexively said Captain, but that was no longer applicable; thus the clearing of the ready room he'd owned for fifteen years. Nothing else seemed to be both correct and proper except how Worf finished his question: "--sir?"

"No; thank you, Commander." Picard straightened and adjusted his uniform. "I'm finished already."

"Yes, sir," Worf said with a nod. "And... what of Doctor Crusher? And Rene?"

Picard paused. "That... is being determined. But there will be no force in the galaxy that will keep me separated from my wife and son for long."

"Of course not," Worf replied with confidence, then after a pause: "If I may speak freely... it will not truly be the Enterprise without you as its captain."

Picard's face softened, and Worf thought he saw the man's eyes grow a touch wetter. "Thank you, Worf," he said, softly. "Although, I must say, your timing could not be better; I was just about to seek you out."

The Klingon's mighty brow furrowed. "Sir?"

The former Enterprise commander stepped around his desk to stand before the man who'd been his XO for almost half the ship's existence. "The Enterprise will need a new captain, Mister Worf… and I'm sure you'd agree, only the finest will do for this vessel."

"I would," replied Worf, though a small unease he'd never admit began to grow.

"As does Admiral Akaar; he already had an officer in mind, and when I spoke with him earlier today, we found we were thinking of the same person."

The unease spread. "Cap--- sir..."

"I know," Picard said cautiously, "that you have had some doubts about your capabilities in command before. Your record, as you frequently point out, does have some blemishes: your reprisal against Councillor Duras after he murdered K'Ehleyr, your resignation from Starfleet to serve in the Klingon Civil War, your attempt to assist your brother in performing mauk'to'vor... your actions on Soukara…"

Each reference made Worf tense, especially the last. It was not that abandoning his mission during the Dominion War, instead saving his wife Jadzia, brought him any regret; it was, however, the incident that Benjamin Sisko had told him would scupper any chances of him achieving a command of his own. Despite repeated reassurances, including many from the man standing before him, he was not convinced Sisko's words were false.

Picard continued. "But you must realize, as Starfleet does, that these are a few black marks on a Starfleet record that has otherwise been exemplary. Your devotion to duty -- and honor -- made Admiral Akaar's decision easy. He informed me earlier today as a courtesy, and he allowed me one last request as captain of this vessel: to be the one to tell you."

As Worf watched, Picard picked up the padd, activated it, and read. "From Fleet Admiral L.J. Akaar, Commander-in-Chief, Starfleet; to Commander Worf, executive officer, USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E. As of this stardate, you are immediately increased in rank to captain; you are further requested and required to take command of USS Enterprise, also effectively immediately." Picard set the padd down with a smile and offered his hand to shake. "Congratulations, Captain Worf."

Worf looked at Picard's hand... and did not take it. "Sir... I came here so you would be the first to know. I am resigning my commission in Starfleet."

As his hand dropped, Picard seemed surprised... no, horrified. "Worf… why?"

Worf inhaled, deeply. "There is no one reason."

"I'd like to hear them all, then."

Worf glowered briefly, but knew that of all the officers, all the people, Jean-Luc Picard not only deserved an answer, but would understand it. "To begin with... it has been an honor to serve with you on the Enterprise -- both Enterprises," he amended. "But as I said, it will not truly be the Enterprise without you. Even if I were to accept command, this would not be the ship I served on. It would still be an honor... but it would not be the same."

Picard nodded slowly, but seemed unsatisfied. "Your other reasons?"

"You spoke of the blemishes on my record; I ought to feel shame and regret over them, but in each case I would do the same again. I would avenge my mate; I would serve the people of my birth; I would help my brother regain the honor he lost... I would save my wife, no matter the price." Again, Worf inhaled deeply. "Starfleet will always be a lesser priority than my duty to my family."

The smile that grew on Picard's face told him that he did indeed understand.

"Chancellor Martok has led the Empire for over ten years now," Worf continued. "He continues to lead with cunning and wisdom, but he has told me he feels himself growing old. He knows that the day will come when he is challenged, and falls." He felt his chest clench with rage at the thought, even though it may be years hence. "When he is gone, his House would pass to his cousin; the man is smart enough and honorable enough, but the chancellor feels his-- our House deserves a strong leader, or at least a leader who can be made strong."

Picard shifted, not entirely sure how this was connected.

"It would not be right," Worf said, "for the House to pass to someone adopted into it. However, such a person, Martok has decided, might make a proper gin'tak to the House."

That was when the connection became clear to the former captain. "The leader's most trusted advisor; his right-hand man. But certainly it could wait until..." Picard did not finish with until Martok dies.

Worf shook his head. "The chancellor disagrees, and so do I. Better to have people in place before they are needed. And also... Martok himself has not had a gin'tak since Davok died. He would welcome one."

"I can imagine." Picard smiled. "Well, I can't say I fault you--"

"There is," Worf interrupted, "one other matter."

Picard's face settled again. "Go on."

He almost seemed to regret speaking a moment, but pressed on. "Alexander... has found a mate."

That clearly came as a great surprise. "Impossible; he's only..." As his former XO watched, Picard did the math and realized Worf's son was no longer "only" anything. "Good Lord," he murmured.

"Yes," Worf agreed, not entirely pleased but accepting.

"Well then." Still trying to process, Picard asked, "And who has captured the heart of your son?"

"Her name is V'Lin; she is an attaché to Councillor T'Latrek of Vulcan."

"And... she is herself...?"

"Vulcan," Worf finished. "Yes. T'Latrek says she is exemplary in her work. From what Alexander says, she's also very desirable and compelling... and finds him completely fascinating."

Picard was impressed by Worf's ability to express both pride and a roll of the eyes with the same tone. "Well, congratulations to them," he said. "Give them my regards."

"I will." And there it was once more; the knowledge that there was one more thing to say, despite his discomfort. "Apparently they have been discreet from some time, but... circumstances have made them decide to be open."

There was no further expansion for a moment. "Circumstances?" Picard gently probed.

"Yes, sir."

A moment later, it was as if something had clicked audibly. "Oh... circumstances," Picard repeated with different intonation.

"Yes, sir."

"Are you telling me that you, Mister Worf… are about to be a--?"

"Yes," Worf said, cutting him off before he could say the word, then belatedly adding, "sir".

At last Picard's smile reached its full extent, if not a bit beyond. "Then congratulations to you as well," he said. "So... Alexander and V'Lin have decided on, shall we say, a permanent association?"

Worf's pose shifted, and for the first time since he'd entered the room, he was no longer the officer speaking to a superior, but a man speaking with someone who'd been a friend and confidante for decades. "Alexander has -- politely -- made it clear that he will not repeat the mistakes I made with him." Even under his normally-stoic expression, it was clear that Worf held deep regrets about pushing his son away for so very long, only truly accepting him after far too many years. "And I wish to redeem myself for those same mistakes. It would be difficult to do so from here on the Enterprise. It would be far easier from the grounds of the House of Martok."

"It would indeed," Picard said. He took a breath. "I won't pretend not to be disappointed that the Enterprise will not pass into your capable hands, but I certainly can't disagree with your reasons. I suppose, then, I must say... good luck. Or would 'Q'apla' be more fitting?"

"I will accept both," Worf said, with a nod and finally a smile of his own, with relief at Picard's understanding, agreement, and support. "I will, of course, inform Admiral Akaar."

"The sooner the better," Picard agreed. "You'll be a hard man to replace."

"As will you, sir," Worf replied. This time it was Worf who offered his hand to shake, and this time, it was accepted.

[realmofstupid]

Everything I didn't like in Strange New Worlds

I was gonna call this post "everything wrong with strange new worlds" but I realized I'm not actually the center of the universe and my opinion of something isn't automatically right. I don't want to sound like a hater. I already decided I didn't like this show and therefore I'm gonna stop watching it. It's not a big deal. I'm not gonna funnel my focus into things I hate just so I can talk shit about them.

But since I got this far into it before leaving, I thought I'd talk about why I did so, so that fans and non-fans alike can think about it and discuss it. Hopefully you'll remain a fan. You'll just be more deeply aware of your favorite media.

- The ableism.

This show fridged it's blind character for shock value after we had him for only 4 episodes, which is not good. It also didn't even attempt to explore Pike's thoughts about his future in the wheelchair. He just said he's as good as dead and left it at that. Spock's dyslexia wasn't mentioned even once.

- The savage race

That show edgefied the Gorn, who were seen as the silly meme mascots kinda-villains of TOS, to be something gruesome and evil, already disappointed me. But the fact they're being pushed into this narrative of being irredemable savages, flesh-eating monsters, also goes against their original episode in TOS. Like, they were supposed to be a sentient, warp-capable species, just as right or wrong as the humans. I don't think I need to elaborate too much into why "the bloodthirsty savages" is a concept we should have left in the 60s. This isn't any better than the orc-ish portrayal of the Klingons in Star Trek Discovery.

- The inconsistencies (this is a longer one, sorry)

I'm not a purist fan who nitpicks every tiny detail. The things I'm complaining about are just too obvious. Ask any fan of Devil May Cry why the reboot didn't work, and they will tell you it's because the main characters of the franchise were changed into something unrecognizeable, people that weren't the characters the fans of the franchise fell in love with. This is the situation with Spock and Chapel - and even Pike, in some points, as someone who's seen him in Discovery.

I won't argue too much about Chapel, because she didn't have as big of a presence in TOS. - I mean, I still think it was enough that she had a personality, and that personality is very different from SNW Chapel - but it's Picard's lore that he used to be a very different person in his youth. So alright, people change.

Spock, though? Do you really see snw spock and tos spock as the same person? Discovery's Spock had a lot of new lore added to his backstory, but personality-wise, he still was the same character. SNW's isn't consistent with either Disco or TOS Spock. The biggest change being just how much romance and sex his plotlines are involving now, in a way that not only tries to make the character appear overtly heterosexual, but also makes him out to be a jerk. His treatment of T'Pring, and later on of Chapel is terrible.

There's also episode inconsistencies. Spock and T'Pring didn't meet before Amok Time in TOS. The Gorn weren't as evil. This writing did ruin beloved characters and episodes for the older fans. I think the only way to not be even a bit bothered by it would be is SNW is your first star trek.

- the hijinks and dialogue quips

This is the last one, I promise. I was so happy to get a new trek show with independent episodes and tomfoolery back! This is what was missing in new-trek and they finally heard us! I was thrilled to have some silly campy star trek again. But then... they delivered it in the most forced way possible.

Am I just that hard to please? I was expecting to just... like it. It's harder to dislike something when you go into it already liking it. If I disliked the hijinks, maybe it means something went wrong.

It was forced, almost like the show was telling to my face "here's your funnies that you kept bothering us for. Aren't we funny? Look how funny we are". There were so many quips and one-liners that sometimes it interrupted the immersion, both in serious scenes and in the silly ones. There were line deliveries that were downright cringe. Remember when people were complaining Discovery (s1) should Star Trek, not game of thrones? Well... snw should be star trek, not marvel.

Aaand, we're done.

Yeah, I promise, I went into this show hyped beyond my ass. I did not get here with the intention of criticizing and hating everything - actually anything. It happened as I watched it. It was bad enough to change my opinion from something positive to something negative.

Some of the items in this list are personal opinions, some are opinions based on the mood of the fandom, and some were criticism of bigotry. I think it was important for me to share them with other fans. If you read this far, thank you! I'm honored you valued my opinion enough to hear it!

[keyladetmer]

safe & sound

Fandom: Star Trek: Discovery

Relationship: Keyla Detmer / Joann Owosekun

Summary:

Keyla Detmer shows up at Joann Owosekun's door late at night after the away mission.

Missing scene from 4x11 "Rosetta." Canon compliant-ish. 5184 words.

Read it on AO3

Lieutenant Commander Keyla Detmer should have probably gone to sleep. Should have probably gone back to her quarters, taken a sonic shower, changed into her pyjamas, then flopped face down onto her bed and slept for the entire eight hours before her next shift. Soon, she’d be flying the ship straight into the most dangerous enemy they’d ever faced and it would probably be smart to be well-rested for that.

Her body was warm from the couple of glasses of synthehol that she had drank at the ship's bar, chatting with Ensign Adira Tal after the eventful away mission. She thought she was going to spend the night drinking alone, sitting at the bar with her thoughts of the past and a yearning for something she was sure she’d never have, but Adira had sat down with her. They had shown up clutching at their drink and smiling nervously, and then asked to join her.

She was not drunk per-se, it was tough to get truly sloshed off of the stuff from the replicators, but she was definitely not sober. Good, she thought, maybe I needed it . Time away from the storm that was brewing in her brain. She had pushed herself further than she could handle, staying up late to talk to the younger officer, and in result, her entire body was protesting. She was exhausted, but after the day she had, she didn't want to go back to her empty quarters.

In her quarters, she would be alone. She realized that she didn’t want to be alone. Not after whatever that was on the alien planet.

She missed her old room. Deck four, room two-oh-one. After she got promoted, she got assigned to a larger, spacious room with a large window and an ensuite bathroom, but no roommate. That was the problem: she missed having someone to come home to.

She used to like living alone. After everything with her dad… Keyla was better on her own. Being alone was safer. Given this, the communal bunks on her first assignment had been the worst sleep she’d ever had. There were so many people. Snoring. Talking. Laughing. It set her on edge. As an only child, she’d never had to share a room before let alone sharing a hallway with four other ensigns. She hated it, and barely slept during her first commission. Later, after she had been promoted to lieutenant and was reassigned to Shenzhou, Keyla relished the silence of sleeping alone. Which, she acknowledged, sounds a bit sad. It wasn’t like she didn’t sleep with people, but actually spending the night wasn’t something Keyla did. She was more of a slipping out once the other person fell asleep kind of person. She did have a roommate — Lieutenant Miller, a science officer — but she was on the Beta shift and they only overlapped early in the morning, brushing their teeth in their ‘fresher, a comfortable silence between them. She appreciated how they were able to coexist, but wouldn’t have called her a friend. She died early in the Battle of the Binaries. Keyla hadn’t had time to mourn her loss.

When she had first been assigned to the USS Discovery, complete with a fresh cybernetic implant and shell-shocked from the start of the Klingon War, she had assumed that the massive Crossfield-class ship would offer single rooms for their bridge crew. Keyla had set her duffel-bag down in a huff when she had arrived to find two beds in her room assignment.

She never expected that her roommate would become her entire world in such a short span of time.

Now that she finally had a room to herself, Keyla barely slept.

She missed their late night conversations after shift. She missed her soft breath, a comforting rhythm that would lull Keyla back to sleep in the middle of the night. She missed their holomovie nights, how they fought over where to stow their laundry and whether Keyla was allowed to leave her socks strewn on the floor and whether or not they should close the blinds or keep their small window open so that they could see the stars. Joann Owosekun was in favour of the stars.

It wasn’t like Keyla didn’t see Joann every day. They had duty together on the bridge, both sitting together at the front, placed perfectly for the occasional glance in each other's direction or a joke said under their breath.

It wasn’t the same.

Swaying slightly, Keyla walked past her new room, forgoing sleep for a few moments longer.

She kept moving. If she didn’t stop, she wouldn’t have to face it all. At least, that’s been her mantra for most of her life. If she kept occupied, distracted, she could avoid the pain.

She had almost said something when Saru told her about her new room assignment, but what would she even say? “Sorry Captain, I don’t want to get a better room, I actually like living with Lieutenant Commander Owosekun.” That didn’t sound like something Keyla would say. Not out loud . So instead, she nodded and pretended to be smug about her promotion at dinner with the other bridge crew.

As she walked through the dim empty corridor, it felt like she was on autopilot. The helmsman lost control over her body's flightpath, as her mind was elsewhere, down on the planet. In a truly alien nursery.

She could still feel the recycled air in her EV suit brushing against her hair, the strange quality of the light that filtered through the atmosphere, and the way Saru’s body language shifted with each minute they were down on the planet. She could still hear the screams of the landing party, feel the way her hands shook as she reprogrammed their air filters and see the immense pain in her crewmate's eyes. Most of all, her mind drifted to the nursery and the way the hydrocarbons affected her.

Lost in thought, Keyla walked, her long legs carrying her through the empty halls. Earth was on her mind, her homeworld, which was no longer hers. Now, it was in danger. For all they knew, the DMA had accelerated and all of this first contact was for nothing, but that was a type of pessimism that didn’t fly on Discovery. Earth was home, but it also wasn’t. The blue green marble looked the same, the sun on her skin felt the same, and as she sat under the large tree near Starfleet Academy, she could pretend she was in her own time. But this wasn’t her time, this wasn’t her Earth. No home. Did Keyla ever have a home?

The nursery felt like a home, but one that Keyla had never known. Growing up, Keyla knew her house was different. She only had one parent, unlike her friends who all had at least two. When she went over to her friends house, there was always a parent fussing over their child, replicating orange slices and making sure they didn’t watch too many holos. Keyla never invited anyone over, in return.

Her home felt nothing like the nursery. There was no safety. No warmth. Her dad wasn’t really there, a ghost of himself even before he died. After jumping to the future, Keyla learned that there was little difference between being dead a handful of years and being dead for centuries. Ghosts were ghosts, no matter how much time passed, and the alien planet made that clear for her. They still had power over the living.

She found herself standing nervously outside of her former roommate’s new quarters. It reminded her of a few months ago when, after a long day on the bridge, Keyla found herself outside of her old room, confused as to why the doors weren’t automatically opening for her, before realizing she was on deck three, not two.

Keyla closed her eyes, the lingering effects of the dust still seeming to buzz in her brain. Doctor Pollard had cleared her after she had returned to the ship, scanning her twice at Keyla’s insistence. No abnormalities. No lasting effects, not on her biological brain nor her cybernetic implant that formed a significant chunk of her temporal lobe. She wasn’t quite sure if that was true, if something like that wouldn’t affect her. How would they even be able to tell? They were flying blind out here, beyond the galactic barrier.

Keyla’s mind fixated on her memory of the wails of the damned, how her team succumbed to their torment, writhing and holding onto their helmets as Keyla reprogramed their EV suits. She felt it too, but those feelings had already become routine, something she pushed through every day in the pilot's chair and every evening alone in her room, staring blankly into the eternal night.

What happened in the nursery stuck with her; the feelings were swirling in her brain. Some part of her felt nostalgic for a past that she hadn’t ever experienced. She longed for some spark of recognition for those feelings, like Captain had. Longed for some memory to connect to.

“Oh, Detmer.” Captain Burnham's voice rang in her ears. The concern on her face; the pain in her own eyes. The look of something close to pity that had made Keyla turn away in shame when she realized all their eyes were on her.

She pressed the console to the right of the door, then waited. A moment passed and Keyla almost fled, as what she was doing finally caught up with her. The door beeped and she realized it was too late because the doors were already opening to reveal a slightly sleepy looking Joann Owosekun.

“Hi,” Keyla breathed, taking in the sight of Joann in a faded Starfleet Academy hoodie that Keyla was pretty Joann stole from her months ago. Her hair was let down from her customary tied-back style, the long twists framing her face. She looked surprised at Keyla’s arrival.

After one look at Keyla, Joann wrapped her in a warm hug. Keyla’s knees almost buckled in relief, leaning into the shorter woman for support. She didn’t realize how much she wanted to see her. She had even stayed at the bar in hopes that Joann would show up after her shift on the bridge.

“You better come in then,” Joann whispered, then pulled her into her room and sat her onto her bed.

At that point, Keyla realized tears were prickling at her eyes. She threw herself back onto the bed and rubbed at her face. You are not allowed to cry, she told herself, you already cried once in front of both of the captains, you’ve reached your quota. Despite this, a tear trickled out of her cybernetic eye onto the woven blanket that covered the bed. Her tear ducts still worked, despite everything. Figures.

She breathed in the familiar smell that she could never quite identify but she knew as to be Owo , and felt a bit better. She opened her eyes again as she felt the bed dip, and found her friend's arm around her shoulder, sitting her up and pushing a warm mug into her shaky hands.

“Drink up,” Joann’s soft voice commanded her, and Keyla obeyed the order, taking a sip of the fragrant tea that was almost hot enough to burn her tongue, but not quite. “It’s sleepytime tea, an old Earth recipe.”

Keyla sniffled, then leaned into Joann’s body, taking in her warmth. Joann supported her, allowing Keyla to relax.

“Long day?” Joann asked, as if she hadn’t already been briefed on the mission. By now, Keyla was sure the entire ship had heard. Some even stared at her across the bar, wondering what she had experienced on the away mission. She couldn’t blame them, if she hadn’t been there, she would’ve been desperate for any information that would provide any hope for their mission.

Keyla laughed. “You could say that.” She took another sip, enjoying the warm chamomile taste and the freshness of what she thought might be mint. “What’d we do to have the weight of the galaxy constantly be on our shoulders?”

“Fly good?”

“Oh so that’s already made its rounds?” Keyla laughed, “Poor Adira.”

“I heard it from Nilsson at dinner,” Joann explained with a smile. “Apparently Adira thinks you’re very cool. It was nice to have something to laugh about, today. Everyone was on edge while you were gone.”

“The crew isn’t good at sitting around twiddling their thumbs,” Keyla pointed out. “Not a particularly patient group.”

She managed a half smile, enjoying their comfortable conversation as they danced around why Keyla had shown up at Joann’s door with shaking hands and a distant look in her eyes.

“Hey, I can be patient!” Joann said. “It was Rhys who was bouncing off the walls. That boy had enough pent up stress he could have powered the warp core. Though, admittedly, it was hard to relax with the delegates taking up residence in the lounge.”

“You didn’t replace me with Ambassador T'Rina as your best friend?” Keyla quipped, “She seems fun.”

She bumped her shoulder with Keyla’s, teasingly, careful not to spill her tea. Best friends, Keyla said, mentally scoffing. What a way to put whatever they had together.

“No I think Saru has that covered,” Joann replied, “Wouldn’t want to step on his toes… er- hooves.”

Keyla managed a snort.

Joann then tilted her head as she said: “I heard you did more than fly today?”

Ah, there it was. Joann stopped dancing around the issue.

“Yeah,” Keyla breathed. “We found something… this dust. It was getting into our EV suits, so I had to reprogram them on the fly.”

“That’s my girl,” Joann smiled and even Keyla’s lips twitched into a slight grin at the pride in her voice.

“The Captain thinks it’s the context we need to communicate with the 10C.”

“That’s good. Is it not?”

Keyla nodded, but it was hard to feel good. Ni’Var was in danger. So was Earth. The only somewhat familiar place in this unfamiliar century might be already destroyed and they wouldn’t even know. Billions could be lost. The weight of that seemed to be pressing on her chest, making it hard to breathe. She had fought it to save the others down on the planet. She locked her fear away, relying on the months of PTSD therapy, but it was finally starting to overwhelm her now.

Put it in a box, Detmer, she scolded herself.

Her hand rose involuntarily to her head, touching her implant as the phantom pain of her injury filled her consciousness, as it was wont to do whenever she was stressed. She closed her eyes at the pain. She could feel Joann’s eyes on her but knew if she opened her own eyes, she’d crumble.

And to make matters worse, the screaming returned, but worse this time. Without the focus and adrenaline of the mission keeping her in line, the dam broke and the memories flooded in. The alien voices rose in pitch and volume. Her own screams joined the fray as the memory of crashing Discovery into the planet blended together into one cacophony overwhelming her senses.

“Detmer, come back to me.” Joann’s voice broke through, reminding Keyla that she was no longer on the planet.

“I’m okay,” Keyla managed, but she was sure that it wasn’t convincing. She had to get it together.

Five things you can see, Keyla recited in her mind, attempting to quell the rising panic before it became a full-blown episode.  One, the mug of tea in her hand. Two, the steam rising from it. Her eyes darted around, the visual information from eye and implant coming in and out of focus as she struggled to process the input. Three.. Owosekun’s quarters. The room is neat, clean, without the mess Keyla used to bring to their shared room. Some memories from home sit on the shelf, objects Joann explained to her back in the early days of the assignment, before they were navigating an unfamiliar time and the space beyond the Galactic Barrier. Four… four. What else? Space, outside. The eternal darkness that hadn’t been seen by human eyes before. Keyla forced herself to focus her eyes on the woman next to her instead. Five: Joann.

Keyla took a deep breath. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

Joann didn’t seem to believe her. Keyla doesn’t blame her. She probably looked like a mess.

Okay Detmer, you can do this, Keyla thought. Focus. Four things you can feel. The deck under her feet, the weight of a blanket being placed on her shoulders, the warmth of her tea, Joann’s hand resting lightly on Keyla’s thigh, Joann.

Three things you can hear: the thrum of the warp core deep inside the ship (a feeling that she, like many pilots, could always sense, noting changes before many an engineer), her own heartbeat thudding loudly in her chest, and Joann’s slow breath beside her.

Two things you can smell: the tea, Joann’s perfume.

One thing you can taste. Keyla took another sip of the tea. Camomile.

“Emotions. The hydrocarbons,” Keyla forced out in explanation. “They used them to communicate somehow. Dr. Culber, Captains Saru and Burnham… they all reacted strongly to the first emotion we encountered. Fear. Torment. Pain. Remnants of the mass extinction that the 10C faced.”

She finally looked over at Joann, whose wide brown eyes looked over at her with concern. Keyla leaned into her, resting her head onto Joann’s shoulders as she braced for what came next.

“I could deal with that,” Keyla whispered. “I know how to deal with that.”

For a long time, she didn’t. As the queen of putting things in boxes, Keyla knew only how to push everything down, power through it. Flying, working out, studying, drinking, anything to simply forget for a moment. She knows better now… or at least was trying to.

Fear used to be a weakness, to Keyla. You couldn’t be afraid as a pilot, not when you’re being spun in the g-force simulator, nor when racing through the Sol system as a cadet, and especially not when you’re going where no one had gone before. But she was finding the strength to admit to her fear, first to Joann, then in therapy to Dr. Culber. Eventually, she hoped to find strength in it.

“I know you do,” Joann finally spoke. “I wish you didn’t know such pain.”

For a moment, she just relaxed into Joann’s arms, before collecting herself.

“I could deal with that,” Keyla repeated. “But the nursery-”

Her voice broke.

“The feeling of safety. Full unadulterated love. I just had never felt that before, not in the way Captain Burnham spoke about. With her parents.”

Joann took the still-full mug and set it onto her side table, and pulled Keyla into her again, enveloping her in a hug that sent a rush through Keyla’s nerves.

The last time she had felt this sort of bone-crushing hug had been after the relief of discovering that Joann had survived sabotaging the nacelles to retake the ship from Osyraa. Oxygen-deprived and terrified, they had held onto each other. Keyla wanted to kiss her then, too, to celebrate the fact that Joann had saved them all but there was no time. There is never time.

She hadn’t felt it then, not really. She hadn’t had room for any emotion besides relief that combated the terror that filled her consciousness.

This feeling was new to her. Safety. Security. Love.

“It felt good. Warm. It was nothing familiar to me. Maybe I had felt it before… but I don’t remember. With my mom…”

She shook her head.

“I didn’t want to leave,” Keyla whispered.

Joann nodded. She understood.

It had taken years before she told Joann about her childhood and even then, she hadn’t gone past the basics. Dead mom. Her dad. Flying away from her home way too young. Starfleet. Joann, in turn, had spoken of the collective, of the heartbreaking moment of her friend dying, of leaving the only world she had ever known. Most of this information had been exchanged in whispers, late at night, between wars and phaser fire and mutiny and devastating loss.

When they had made the decision to leave their lives behind and follow the Red Angel into the 32nd century, they knew that they were leaving everything behind, and everyone. Both women had very little to leave behind. Not much to go back to, if they had made the decision to stay in their own time. They had their friendships and loyalty to the crew and a love for their Captain who they would follow into the future.

They followed each other into the future, too. Keyla often wondered what she would have done if Joann had stayed on the Enterprise with the rest of the crew, if it would have changed her destiny. She also wondered if it would have changed Joann’s mind, if Keyla had stayed.

Her past wasn’t something Keyla often spoke of in the light of day, especially now that it was literally over nine hundred years ago and everyone she ever knew, or cared about, thought she died in the war.

Bragging, that she could do. Jokes, even better. She was only starting to be able to talk about her recent traumas in therapy, and while she could sense that Dr. Culber wanted her to go deeper, talk more about the roots of these thoughts and feelings, Keyla had held back. Until today, when she blurted it out in front of them all. She knew she was building up to this, the sharing your feelings thing. After breaking down, publicly, at the dinner party that Saru had arranged, Keyla’s feelings had suddenly left her inner world and became a conversation topic amongst the senior staff. People were suddenly aware that she wasn’t okay, and weirdly enough, it was fine. She expected whispers and stares, but got hugs and movie nights instead. She wasn’t in it alone. Not anymore.

Keyla Detmer wasn’t alone then, or down on the planet. She wasn’t even alone when she had planned to be at the bar, when Adira had joined her. And Keyla wasn’t alone in this moment, wrapped in her best friend’s embrace.

Keyla’s face was buried in Joann’s shoulder, her friend's strong arms holding her tight as Keyla clung to her. There it was. The feeling again. The buzzing in her brain that told her she was safe, that she was loved.

“I didn’t want to leave,” Keyla whispered. The orange glow of the dead planet filled her vision as she pressed her eyes closed. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Then stay.”

The meaning had shifted slightly. Keyla realized she was asking to stay here, in Joann’s bed, and that Joann had given her permission.

Keyla opened her eyes and found herself nose to nose with her crewmate, former roommate and best friend. Blue eyes sought brown. The intensity of Joann’s gaze scared her, but she couldn’t look away.

“I feel it still,” Keyla admitted. “The warmth.”

“I’d hope so,” Joann replies. “ This is your home. Here on Discovery. Not an abandoned alien nursery.”

“Home,” Keyla repeated. It sounded strange on her tongue. The only place she had reliably called home was their shared quarters - a habit she had picked up from Joann.

That feeling returned in full force. The peace. The overwhelming warmth and affection that bloomed in her chest, spreading warmth and causing a large grin to spread across her face. She felt safe.. Secure… No!

The planet. It hadn’t left her system after all.

No… She couldn’t do this. Not now. She was compromised. It was messing with her. The emotions that swirled around in her brain, they weren’t hers, not really. She couldn’t do this to Joann, couldn’t draw her in when these feelings — this hope — wasn’t hers.

She pulled away from Joann’s embrace, shrugging the blanket off of her shoulders, rubbing her face roughly with her hands and curling into herself.

“I can’t-” she breathed. “There’s something wrong. I- I-”

“Keyla…” Joann reached out to touch her but Keyla flinched back.

“I need to go to Sickbay,” Keyla said, her voice rising in volume with her panic, “There’s something wrong.”

“Stop, Keyla!” Joann said, sitting on the edge of her bed, her voice as calm and steady as always, “You were cleared. You’re fine.”

Keyla stood up. “These feelings, they’re not mine. They can’t be mine, I don’t know how to feel this way .”

As Keyla tried to flee out the door, Joann stood up, then stepped in front of her, halting her in her path. Keyla turned and began to pace, wringing her hands as she worked herself up into a panic.

Joann brought up her Tricorder and stood her ground. She began to scan her. Keyla froze in place, stunned as the Ops officer looked at her with the same expression as she’d have as their ship encountered an unknown spatial anomaly. Joann scrutinized her with eyes that understood the very workings of the known universe and the tactical skills of one of the most talented ops officers of their time. Keyla submitted to the scan.

“Your heart rate is elevated,” Joann explained, looking at the display of Keyla’s vitals on the holographic projection, “But that’s expected.”

Keyla nodded, her gesture jerky.

“You are also slightly under the influence of synthehol,” Joann continued, calmly, gesturing to a graph that depicted possible contaminants in Keyla’s blood.

Keyla flushed and stuttered.

“There’s no trace of the hydrocarbons,” Joann concluded. “It’s not detecting alien influence on your brain, nor any abnormal readings. Now, I’m not a doctor but if I was, I’d diagnose you with stress and exhaustion.”

Joann gestured to the information in front of her, letting Keyla see for herself.

“Keyla, you are okay. You just need some sleep. And maybe some water.”

Her shaking hands tapped at the screen, bringing up the details, staring it down as if she expected it to tell her something different.

“Anyway, Zora is always tracking our lifesigns,” Joann said with a soft smile. “She’d tell us if there was something to worry about.”

Keyla almost expected Zora to say something, but the ship was silent except for the hum of the warp core and the comforting vibrations under her feet.

“Then why do I feel this way?”

“How do you feel?”

“Safe,” she said. “I felt safe with you. But it’s the same as I felt when the hydrocarbons got through the EV suit. It has to be the 10C I need to tell the Captain.”

Joann took the Tricorder back then set the device down and said: “I feel safe with you too. And I wasn’t exposed to any hydrocarbons. All of you went through a full decontamination after you returned to the ship.”

Keyla thought for a moment, finally considering the situation.

“You weren’t,” Keyla admitted.

“Now, we can go to Sickbay if you want. They can scan you again and confirm that you are, in fact, okay. Or, you could stay and get a good night’s sleep.”

Keyla took stock of herself. It wasn’t the 10C after all. It was the feeling, for real this time. As she stood, gasping as the emotions rushed through her, her brain struggled for a frame of reference, for context, but found none. She hadn’t felt that way before. Safe. Loved. Peaceful.

But she was wrong. The dust was not to blame. This was the context, this was the frame of reference: Joann Owosekun.

“Stay,” Joann said. “Please.”

Keyla nodded then surged forward, hugging her friend with all of her might. Joann’s right hand tangled in her hair as her left held the small of Keyla’s back, pressing their bodies together. A fluttering in Keyla’s stomach reminded her of her feelings for Joann. Stay, stay, stay , Joann’s words echoed in her mind.

“Can I?” Keyla whispered, fearful that the offer could be revoked at any moment.

“Always,” came Joann’s response.

Then, they pulled apart slightly, Joann was holding onto Keyla’s head and looking into her eyes, their foreheads touching. They stood there for a moment, relishing the embrace. Their lips were close, but not touching. Neither woman made the move to.

They were at a stalemate, frozen in place. Keyla knew Joann wouldn’t take this any further, wary of spooking Keyla as she was already in such a state.

Instead of closing the distance between them, Keyla pulled at the blue hoodie and asked: “is this mine?”

Joann laughed, then tilted her head.

“You left it when you moved out. Fair game.”

“I didn’t move out,” Keyla defended herself. “I was reassigned. Against my will.”

“Against your will?” Joann asked. “We were promoted!”

“Yeah and now I’m on the port side of the ship. A decidedly worse side of the ship.” Keyla whined. “I lost my roommate and my sweater, not a fair trade for a slightly bigger window and a larger bed. So much for heroically recapturing the ship - never doing that again.”

Joann laughed then pulled back. “You’re welcome here — on the better side of the ship — any time, you know that? Even when you’re not so exhausted that I wouldn’t trust you to walk back to your own room without a personal transporter’s assistance.”

Keyla nodded, too stunned for words, which was rare for the cocky pilot.

“Now, let’s get you to bed,” Joann said, guiding Keyla gently to the edge of her bed. Keyla complied, kicking her boots off and tugging at her collar absentmindedly, eyes locked on Joann. She didn’t notice that she was struggling to undo her collar until Joann sat down next to her, moved Keyla’s hands away, and unzipped her uniform for her, helping Keyla to take off her jacket and revealing her undershirt. She pulled out a pair of sleep pants out of her drawer and tossed them to Keyla before tugging off the hoodie that Keyla was starting to think looked better on Joann, anyway.

Before she knew it, she was under Joann’s heavy blankets, curled up on her side with Joann next to her. The proximity was shocking and instead of exhaustion that she should have been feeling, an electricity flowed through her nerves.

Safe. Welcome. Joann.

Joann rolled over, facing her like she had a moment before. She gently brushed some of Keyla's red hair out of her face, the touch sending shivers through Keyla's entire body.

“You okay?” Joann asked her, again.

This time, Keyla wasn’t lying when she said: “yeah I am.”

———

Keyla woke before dawn — or at least the equivalent experience on a starship which would slowly increase the lighting to simulate a sunrise — feeling at peace. She found Joann’s arm tossed casually over her own body, with her face pressed into Keyla’s back. The soft sound of her breathing lulled Keyla back to sleep.

Those feelings returned: safety, affection, warmth. She smiled and fell back asleep. She was still afraid. Terrified really, but Keyla could face whatever came next with Joann at her side.

[philosopherking1887]

Started watching the premiere of "Strange New Worlds," thought maybe I should rewatch the episode of Discovery where Pike sees his future, started looking at episode summaries to figure out which one it was, and realized that I do NOT remember most of the plot of season 2. I remember some individual episodes, and some of the major developments, but there were so many twists and turns that I really don't remember how they fit together. Like, why did he have to see the future? Looked up the episode on Memory Alpha and it had something to do with touching a time crystal. Why did he need to do that? Why did it involve some weird Klingon ordeal/ritual? No idea.

[femalehumanoid]

Fluff Alphabet - Keevan

A ctivities – What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Keevan likes to spend an occasional evening simply talking to you. Let’s face it – the list of his psychological issues and traumas is a lengthy one, but he adamantly refuses to see a counselor, so that leaves the only person he can trust – you. He tells you stories from his past, ranging from funny and entertaining to tragic and horrible; for the most part you just listen, offering an appropriate comment here and there or squeezing his hand in encouragement. You have long since learned that tearing up and trying to hug him outright is a bad idea in such moments – he sees it as pity and closes up immediately, refusing to reveal anything remotely close to personal for weeks afterwards.

But your talks are not always about his past – in fact, your discussion topics are vastly varied. He’s lived many lifetimes and knows a lot, so he has an opinion on just about everything. He relishes finally being able to discuss his true thoughts without having to constantly look over his shoulder and filter which opinions are safe to share and which ones could be used against him.

As for other activities, Keevan’s a bit of a hedonist, so he wouldn’t say no to a day at a holosuite spa or a short trip to the pleasure planet together. Freedom from the Dominion didn’t make him any less of an asshole, so when you’re in public – say, lounging at the beach on Risa – he’ll occasionally make scathing (and, unfortunately, quite funny) observations about the passersby under his breath. You feel bad for snickering at the especially insulting comments, but ultimately don’t have the heart to tell him off because he looks so pleased with himself when he manages to make you laugh.

B eauty – What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Being a Vorta, Keevan is of course devoid of an aesthetic sense as such. That doesn’t mean that he can’t deduce by the reactions of others that you are beautiful – and boy, does it stroke his ego to see people eyeing you with appreciation (and him with jealousy) when you dress up and go out in public together.

While he can’t fully perceive your beauty visually, he admires your lips for their softness, your hands for their warmth, your eyes for the way you look at him.

On a more general note, what Keevan appreciates most about you is your behavior towards him. Sure, you have many other admirable qualities – you’re fun, and charming, and intelligent – but he’s met a plethora of fun, charming and intelligent people, and you’re the only one who truly loves and accepts him.

C omfort – how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Before he met you, Keevan had very little experience in comforting another person or providing genuine emotional support, so he’ll be somewhat stiff the first few times you show this type of vulnerability in front of him. But as soon as he’ll realize you’re looking to him for comfort, he’ll soften and open his arms for an embrace. Next thing you know, you’ll be sitting on his lap, telling him your woes and being sweet-talked to death.

By the way, if the reason for your distress is another person, you can rest assured that they would regret what they did – Keevan would make sure of it.

D reams -  How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Keevan is happy to leave the decision of where you’re going to live fully in your hands, but if you were to ask him, he’d recommend a smaller planet with comfortable climate and of little strategic value (so that it’d be left alone if another war were to erupt). But even though he’s mostly indifferent towards the finer details of your life together, it doesn’t mean that he’s not thinking about the future. The longer you are together, the clearer it becomes to him that one lifetime with you wouldn’t be enough. So, he starts to make discreet inquiries with his old contacts at various cloning facilities – is the Dominion technology suitable for cloning a human? How would one go about it? You won’t hear a word of it until Keevan knows for sure it’s possible, and one day he nonchalantly drops the offer on you like it’s not one of the most life-changing decisions with plenty of questionable ethical implications. In his mind, the decision has already been made, and he’s not above manipulating you into accepting if that means he gets to be with you forever.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or are they rather passive?

On the surface Keevan might appear passive, simply because he doesn’t expend energy caring about most things. You want to take an assignment on a different planet? Fine, he’ll come along - as long as you’ll have enough free time to devote to him, that is. You’re feeling frisky and want to explore your dominant side? Oh, he’s way into that.

In the past, when he was a servant of the Dominion, he had to constantly assert his dominance to keep his position, but nowadays he mostly reserves those impulses for the bedroom. However, there are some things he’s not willing to compromise on at all. You’re not going on that dangerous mission even if he has to tie you to the bed. That ex of yours that recently came into your life again and is behaving suspiciously flirty? Oh look, a week later they’ve decided to take a trip to another part of the galaxy and not return, totally of their own accord.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How is their fighting?

For both your sakes, let’s hope you’re more diplomatic than he is. Fighting with Keevan goes one of two ways – it’s either a nightmare because he knows exactly what to say to make it hurt, OR your heated exchange turns into an even more heated reconciliation and you both forget what you were fighting about in the first place.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Even if Keevan doesn’t often show it, he is grateful. He knows he’s not the easiest person to get along with, and he is aware of the effort you’re putting into the relationship and into helping him through his issues even when he’s being a total prick.

He does try to smooth his edges when he’s around you (around others, not so much) and takes note of the little things that make you happy – how you light up when he takes your hand, or when he remembers how you take your morning beverage – and consciously does it more often.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything? 

Keevan wouldn’t necessarily call them ‘secrets’, simply certain information that you don’t need to know. Some details of his past, for example – stories that could traumatize you – and why would he do that to a person he loves? You will rarely catch him lying to you outright, but some things he simply omits, like how he’s convinced your colleague to back off from that assignment you really wanted.

Also, he often has trouble sharing his emotions, partly because he’s been repressing them for so long that even he can’t get to the bottom of what he’s feeling at times.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Your relationship has transformed both of you in some respects. It might not have been smooth sailing, especially in the beginning, but it’s the healthiest relationship Keevan’s ever been in, and you’ve been gradually helping him heal and move on from a lot of trauma of his past. As for you, Keevan has taught you to be more assertive and you learned to accept the darker parts of your own psyche like you accepted the worst sides of his.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Keevan is extremely prone to jealousy, and he doesn’t bother to hide it. He likes to cultivate a reputation of a person who’s not to be crossed, and with his sadistic streak scaring people comes easily to him. That way, he can be reasonably sure no-one is going to dare take what’s his – namely, you. 

But if he catches you being too friendly (in his opinion) to, say, some bar patron, he won’t hesitate to come up and insert himself into the conversation, only to artfully insult the unfortunate person, smirking and possessively holding your hip all the while. If you think getting punched in the face by a huge Klingon for such behavior would deter him, you’d be dead wrong.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He’s a wonderful kisser – and very intense. Your first kiss happened in the middle of a heated argument, one moment you were getting in each other’s face, angrily flushing pink and aubergine respectfully, and the next you’re furiously kissing and knocking down the nearby furniture in an attempt to pin the other to the wall.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Not in a healthy way, I’m afraid. For the longest time, he would be in denial as to the nature of his feelings towards you. Lust, he could understand – but you seem to behave in a way that implies deeper feelings. Out of curiosity, he would let himself get closer to you, and after a while he’d discover with great surprise that he has developed feelings towards you as well. Weaknesses like that tended to get one killed in the Dominion (and that’s the best-case scenario), and despite the big changes after the war, that fear would still be fresh in his mind. But even regardless of that, getting seriously involved with someone would bring out a myriad of other fears and insecurities. What if it doesn’t work out? What if he opens up to you and that scares you off? What if he becomes attached and something happens to you? It’s safer not to get involved. Without explanation, he’d start avoiding you, thereby hurting your feelings, and one night when you’re crying, drinking wine and nursing your broken heart, you decide that enough is enough and you deserve an explanation. You march to his quarters and barge in as soon as the doors slide open, to Keevan’s astonishment and slight indignation (since when are you so bold?). After that, there’s a lot of shouting, finger pointing and angry confessions, followed by passionate kissing. The next morning, you’d hear a whisper that sounds a lot like ‘I love you’ while you’re still half-asleep in his bed, but you’re not sure if that really happened or if you dreamt it.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

If you want to get married, you’re going to have to explain to him the significance of that ritual because Keevan doesn’t really understand why you need to involve the government, or even worse – god – in your personal affairs. Although your explanation won’t likely change his mind on the matter, if he sees that you really, really want to get married, he’ll concede. But under no circumstances will Keevan agree to a religious ceremony of any sort – his experiences with gods (i.e. the Founders) have embittered him to any form of religion, so he’ll never sully the matter of such intimacy and importance as your union with mentions of any god, be they real or imaginary.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Pet, darling, sweet thing. Princess, in certain situations (😉). He starts out using the nicknames sarcastically, but at some point it becomes one of his ways to show genuine affection towards you.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious to others? How do they express their feelings?

At first, Keevan in love seems even more aloof than usual. His thoughts keep returning to you, thinking and overthinking everything, imagining all the ways your relationship could go wrong and even more ways it could go right.

The others truly start to notice the changes in his behavior only when he’s with you. His movements gain a bit more grace and sensuality, he doesn’t pass up an opportunity to make a clever snarky comment where he otherwise wouldn’t have bothered. He subtly puts himself in your personal space and holds your gaze for meaningful lengths of time. In other words, he is infatuated with you, which is obvious to everyone present.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

PDA? Yes, please! Keevan’s displays of affection border on exhibitionistic. If you’re too embarrassed, he’ll tone it down, of course - but not by much, so you might as well forget about having any shame at all when he’s around. While he doesn’t tend to be too clingy in public, he thinks nothing of groping your ass if the mood strikes him, undressing you with his eyes or whispering suggestively into your ear and making you blush. Bragging about you and showing you off is par for the course.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship

Keevan has an uncanny ability to stay level-headed in dangerous situations, and years of serving as a field supervisor have taught him to always have a plan B, C and ideally ten more, just in case. So if anything happens, you can rely on him to get you both out of trouble.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative? 

While not romantic in a classical sense, Keevan does try to keep you happy in his own way. He prefers to hide the true amount of effort he puts into the seemingly little things he’s doing for you – what it’s like to hear the whispers about his race when you’re on a date on a Federation planet, or how draining it is to socialize with your friends (you have to threaten not to talk to him for a week if he doesn’t behave civilly).

Aside from that, Keevan likes to make an occasional grand gesture to impress you – there’s nothing he loves more than seeing the awe and admiration in your eyes and hearing you praise him. Basically, flattery will get you anywhere with this Vorta.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He knows that you’re talented enough to excel at anything you put your mind to. If you want to advance your career, he can offer you plenty of useful (if sometimes unethical) advice on how to do that quickly. But if you want him to actually do something to help, you’re going to have to ask veeery nicely. In rare cases he does help without being asked - but don’t get used to it.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Over the iterations, Keevan was known to be, shall we say, adventurous, so there isn’t much that is truly new to him. The only thing that’s actually novel is the significance of the relationship. Did he ever wake up in bed with an attractive stranger? Sure, many times. Had he ever woken up next to the person he loves? You are the first. He wants to relish every new thing he gets to experience with you, so he isn’t in a hurry to try out everything all at once.

U nderstanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Keevan isn’t terribly empathetic, but he can read the cues pretty well if he wants to – a skill that is essential for any Vorta to acquire if they want to survive past their first iteration. For all his supposed indifference, Keevan has learned a lot about you pretty early on after you’ve first met, and if you weren’t so love-struck, you’d have probably found it suspicious. At times, it can be irritating how well he knows you, especially when he’s acting smug about it.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Once upon a time, Keevan had a career, and a rather successful one at that. Unfortunately, it was a career in a fascistic interstellar empire serving merciless gods – this kind of thing gets you disillusioned sooner rather than later. Still, his work had its moments, and having left the Dominion he had been missing the opportunity to apply himself.

But the freedom has granted him a choice – for the first time, he could decide what he wants to do. That freedom is just as important to him as your relationship, and the fact that you’re supporting him and helping him discover the new possibilities means more to Keevan than you can possibly imagine.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Keevan is a very tactile person by nature, which may come as a surprise because due to his past he’s had to learn to survive without closeness. At the earlier stages of your relationship he’d be pretty wary of platonic affectionate gestures, but as he becomes more comfortable around you, you’ll notice the casual touches becoming more frequent – he’d put his chin on your shoulder from behind to see what you’re reading on your PADD, thoughtfully trace your brow with his finger or play with your hair. Also, good luck trying to get out of bed without waking him – if you try to wriggle out of his embrace, he’ll only tighten his arms around you and mumble something unintelligible in Vortawa.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

By making everyone around him miserable. By moping around in your quarters and passive-aggressively destroying the knickknacks on your shelves (and later claiming that it was an accident).

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Oh yes. Great, borderline creepy length. Out of the two of you, you are the only one who actually has morals (and the longer you are with Keevan, the more the lines will start to blur), so he won’t have any qualms doing whatever needs to be done for your relationship. The only thing that could give him pause is if he knows you might not forgive him for doing something particularly amoral - but on the other hand, what you don’t know won’t hurt you.

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

dedicated to the wonderful @stay-neurotic , the originator of Keevan thirst on tumblr dot com

[geekthefreakout]

Shifting Perspective: A Coda to "Things Past"

AN: Garak's growth is one of the most fascinating things to me. I always thought this episode must have had a profound effect on him, but of course the show did not explore it, so I'm going to. That said, be aware of colonialist thinking, an oppressors perspective of oppression, and of Garak SLOWLY coming to realize that the occupation of Bajor was bad, actually. If these things bother you, proceed with caution.

Garak should have been working on Ensign Barrows' new suit. He had the material in front of him, the cuts already made. A simple matter, really, to sew them together now.

But he couldn't stop thinking. Tain would despair of him, he knew. A disciplined mind should not be so easily distracted. Yet he couldn't seem to wretch his mind away from the Bajoran whose place he had taken when he was brought into Odo's guilt ridden mind. The man unjustly killed, who had been doing nothing more than trying to survive.

He'd known, of course, about the conditions on Terok Nor. He'd come through now and again prior to his exile, completing some duty or another. And then, of course, he'd set up his shop in the last few years, never realizing that it was meant to be permanent until Dukat's smug, sneering face had passed along the order as the rest of the Cardassians were pulling out. He'd been aware, in a distant sort of way, of the injustices wrought by his people. Of the deaths, not just from executions which might have been just, but from starvation and exhaustion. He hadn't allowed himself to give it much thought then.

The Bajorans were ungrateful. So he'd told himself, so many others in his line of work said. Cardassia had given them new technology, taught them how to keep records, improved their ability to travel through space. Cardassia wished to free them from their superstitions, to elevate them, and all that was asked in return was that they serve the Union. And what higher honor was there than service to the State?

Never mind that they'd not asked for any of it. Never mind that Bajorans were not granted unrestricted use of that technology. Never mind that they did not want to be free from their faith, nor serve a state which was not their own.

If they'd stopped fighting, things would have been better. This was the line fed to everyone, Cardassian and Bajoran alike, by Central Command. By the Order. By Prefects like Dukat, who claimed to long for a gentler time, where Bajor and Cardassia would be true allies. How wonderful things could have been, if the Bajorans had simply surrendered to a superior people and accepted the gifts Cardassia had to offer.

But now, having lived in the shoes of a Bajoran on Terok Nor... how could they not fight? How could they not want their freedom? How could they even have begun to appreciate the gifts given to them by his people when his people were also responsible for such suffering? Was the superior technology and advanced culture of Cardassia worth the price they paid in blood and tears?

Garak winced as he stabbed himself with his needle, and quickly pulled his hand back before blood stained his product. Vexed, he dropped the needle on the work table and applied pressure to his finger, his scales quickly closing over the wound.

Was service to Cardassia worth the price to Bajor? Was it... even within Cardassia's rights to have demanded it? He'd never allowed himself to think it, at least not so clearly. It was almost a treasonous line of thought.

But then, he was already an exile. What more could they do to him for thinking?

He thought back to the conference he had attended before the incident with Odo. Thought about how he'd talked effusively about the good that had come from the occupation. Oh, he'd known he was inciting anger, not least in the Major. He did delight in stirring the pot. But so much of what he'd said rang hollow.

He thought about the war with the Klingons, how it had left Cardassia laid low. How he'd been willing to fight alongside even Skrain Dukat in defense of his people. How he grudgingly (very very grudgingly) approved of the former gul's decision to take a Klingon bird of prey and and harass the Klingons occupying Cardassian space.

It was less than what the Bajorans did. He wished it was more.

"Garak." A sharp voice brought him out of his reverie. Looking up, he was startled to find Major Kira at his counter. He'd been so deep in thought, he hadn't even heard his shop door open.

Sloppy, Elim. Dangerous. He pulled his customer service face on.

"Ah, Major Kira! What can I do for you?"

Kira scowled at him, as she often did, arms folded across her chest.

"There's going to be a memorial for the three men who were murdered. Ziyal wants to attend, but doesn't have anything appropriate to wear."

"I see." Garak shoved his discomfort firmly aside as he moved from behind his workbench to join the Major in the main part of the shop. "Well, certainly I'd be pleased to help the young lady. Though I will admit, it is easier to clothe someone who is actually here to approve!"

"I'll approve, or I won't. I don't trust you around her, Garak." Kira said.

For a moment, Garak thought that was unfair. Then he remembered how, in Odo's memories, Dukat had stolen Dax away for undoubtedly nefarious purposes. He thought of Ziyal's very existence, and knew that whatever claim of love Dukat had made (and true, it was quite a statement to acknowledge his bastard half-breed as his daughter, and did cost him his rank), Tora Naprem was as much a victim of Dukat's ego and lewd intentions as Dax, or the Bajoran Dax had taken the place of, would have been. Dukat had not been the only one to behave that way.

"I understand." He said at last, moving to a rack where he kept dresses cut in Bajoran style. "For whatever my word is worth though, Major--"

"Not much." Kira said flatly. He tipped his head towards her in acknowledgement, but continued.

"Nevertheless. I want you to know I have no intentions towards Ziyal. When she approached me, I was wary, but the girl seems to simply want the company of another Cardassian on occasion- a desire I can empathize with. But be assured." Here he turned to meet Kira's steely gaze with his own. "While she is a lovely and sweet young lady, I would never touch her or treat her in the way you fear. She is young enough to be my daughter. Younger, even. It would be entirely inappropriate, regardless of what she thinks she wants. I would engage her in conversation, teach her the history of her people. Nothing more. Ziyal has nothing to fear from me."

Kira did not reply to this, but tilted her own head in acknowledgement. That was likely the best he would get. Garak pulled a dress from the rack and held it up for Kira's inspection.

"The material may be unconventional for a Bajoran memorial, but I believe the cut will suffice."

"This cloth is from Cardassia." Kira observed as she rubbed the sleeves between her fingers.

"From the colonies. But yes. It feels more substantial against the scales than the lighter material favored by your people, something which Ziyal may appreciate. And I believe the color will suit her skin nicely."

"When you say you would teach Ziyal her people's history, I suppose you mean feeding her lies about how just the occupation was."

The sudden change in topic threw Garak, and he took a moment to hang the dress over a mirror to regain his composure. He took another moment to formulate his answer.

"When it comes to matters of the Occupation, I feel you would be a better teacher than I." He said at last.

Kira raised her eyebrows. Surprised, but not disagreeing. Garak thought again of the man he had been, the man who had been executed. Murdered. He thought of Terok Nor, and of Deep Space Nine, and of the fight for freedom that had enveloped Kira's entire young life, and felt a sudden and alarming urge to be honest. He began tamping the urge down (and really, honesty was a dangerous thing-- look at all the honest thinking he'd been doing and how poorly it had served him), but one traitorous thought-- she deserves to hear it-- made itself known. Garak surrendered.

"Major, I feel I must apologize." Kira said nothing, but her face betrayed her curiosity. He continued. "When I first became aware of you, you must know that I recognized your strength immediately. You are a leader, a fighter. Resourceful and determined. Truly, you are to be admired."

"Where are you going with this, Garak?" Kira asked, unimpressed by the flattery.

"At the conference this past week I spoke of the good that had come from the Occupation. Bajor's advancing technology, clever use of resources--"

"You really don't need to say it again." The scowl was back.

"I had thought of you the same way." Garak plowed forward, now filled with a need to get this out. "A deadly weapon, forged in the fires of the Occupation. You wouldn't be as sharp as you are if you hadn't had us to fight." Kira's scowl was shifting to something far angrier. "But I realize now, after my... experience with Odo... that it doesn't matter."

Kira drew up short, her anger cooling as confusion took its place.

"It does not matter that the Occupation made you a better fighter, a more decisive leader. It does not matter because you should not have had to be these things. You did not ask for the fire that forged you, Major. None of your people did. And as I find it very unlikely that an apology will be forthcoming from my people at any point in our lifetimes, it falls to me." He met Kira's gaze again, an oddly calm, empty feeling filling his chest. "I am sorry, Major. We were wrong."

Kira stared at Garak for a long moment, then turned back to the dress.

"It's too long." She said at last. "Ziyal will step on it every time she walks."

"Easy enough to fix." Garak said, grateful for the moment to have passed. He returned himself to his business, though the empty feeling remained. "I think 5 centimeters off the hem ought to do the trick."

"Well, don't just guess." Kira said, looking at Garak oddly. Half a moment's pause, and then-- "I'll send Ziyal down and you can measure properly. Will you be free in a couple of hours?"

It wasn't forgiveness.

"I have an appointment at 1430, but will otherwise be quite free to tend to the young lady's needs."

"You and Bashir take lunch at 1520 today, don't you? For your book club."

Garak blinked, surprised.

"We do. We will be discussing the poetry of Una Damat. I was unaware that you took interest in my discussions with the Doctor."

"Oh, it's not by choice." Kira's voice was wry, displaying a humor Garak seldom saw. "Bashir won't shut up about it." She considered him a moment longer. "Una Damat is a Cardassian poet."

"Yes. She did most of her writing 60 years ago, though there are a small number of later works."

"Maybe Ziyal can join you for lunch. Sounds like a part of her heritage she should learn about. Then you can take care of the dress. The memorial is in two days."

It wasn't trust. It wasn't absolution.

"Doctor Bashir and I would be more than happy to have her."

Kira nodded, and still looking strangely at Garak, left the store.

It was a start.

[trillscienceofficer]

I feel like apart from what you said about B'elanna being interested in men only under some dubious consent scenario, whatever she had going in previously to Voyager and being in DQ was trying to be as normal as possible for her father's validation, whether she realized she was doing it or not. And besides, she only ever had a good relationship with people who didn't seem to ever be a possible partner for whatever reason. She's very lesbian coded to me for that.

(In reference to this post)

Man, you're so right. B'Elanna doing things with the perspective of pleasing (the imaginary perfect version that can do no wrong of) her father is a really good observation here. Her stint at Starfleet Academy comes to mind (John Torres was supposed to be a Starfleet officer, according to a deleted line from “Barge of the Dead”), but it's definitely not the only example of this tendency. So much of B'Elanna's life is conditioned by what she thinks he would do, even if I don't think she realizes it (she only starts having dreams of her childhood after discovering that she's pregnant etc); in a way B'Elanna has always been trying to recreate a version of her family where through her hard work and determination things won't end the way they did for her and her mother. I totally agree that her sticking with Tom for so long, despite his behavior and despite so many examples of their early attraction being due to alien crap and/or that declaration of love extracted in a near-death situation, is a symptom of that abandonment trauma as well. I think this is true even outside of a lesbian B'Elanna reading, but it certainly adds some weight to the argument as well. I mean, I know that "lesbian with daddy issues" (hate the term) is kind of a cliché but then again it's not like this was in any way intentional, and as I mentioned reading B'Elanna as a lesbian makes everything that happens to her on Voyager even more brutally heartwrenching.

And you're again right about her choice of potential partners, even the fact that she and Tom started flirting a little when they already disagreed on a lot... can be very easily read as 'I find this guy irritating so I must be secretly attracted to him' which, well. I know from personal experience it's one hell of a mind-trick for closeted lesbians. Her supposedly 'Klingon' attitude towards romance is very significant here imho. Why would B'Elanna lean into her Klingon cultural roots in just this one case, when more often than not she's ashamed of them (and I'm not saying this shame is 'good' by any means), if not because it gives her the perfect excuse to realign her feelings with heterosexual expectations?

Truly the more I look at it the more I can read reluctance and coercion and trauma in B'Elanna when it comes to her sexual relationship with men in general and Tom in particular. There's nothing intentional here of course (just the usual trouble Trek has with answering the question 'are women people?', compounded with and made worse by racism in B'Elanna's case) but the show lends itself well for a lesbian B'Elanna interpretation. And again, the thought that she might be a lesbian... makes all that happened to her on Voyager even more transparently horrifying.

[tanakavox]

here guys. This reaction was done @bssaz97 again. And that's it for the author's note.

"I miss baby Zwei!" Weiss sulked.

"We know Weiss, you've been saying that for the past ten minutes," Blake's vein appeared on her head.

"Why can't we see more of him! He was so cute and innocent!" Weiss crosses her arms and huffs..

"He spent the entire time antagonizing me!" Jaune replied.

"He can never do wrong." Weiss cemented in her mind.

"Forget it VB, she's a lost cause." Yang told her fellow blonde.

"Well let's see what this next viewing has in store for us all." Ren calmly stated.

The screen shows Jaune on Planet Namek facepalming.

"Urgh, what was that idiot DOING bringing me here!" He mutters before turning to look around his eyes widening. "It's... Wait a minute, I can feel it... This is my home! I can finally see its beauty! The lush blue fields, the crystal clear waters, the wind brushing past my... GOD, THIS IS BORING!" He yelled out before groaning. "No wonder I feel at home."

"We're back to Namek!" Ruby shouted in excitement.

"And there's alien Jaune-Jaune!" Nora jumped in.

"Wait isn't this the world where Cinder is supposed to be really powerful?" Jaune asked.

"...oh crud/shit." Many of the original audience replied. Those who were new to the theater didn't exactly understand what they meant but supposed they would eventually see why.

The scene cuts to Cinder confronting Mercury, Oscar, Neptune, and Trifa

"Oh hell yeah! Emerald wake up, we're back in the world where I'm a badass prince!" Mercury says as he shakes her shoulder.

Emerald loudly snores.

"Hey! You said to wake you when 'the snooze fest' was over."

"Not… interested." Emerald conveniently snored.

"Emerald, you will watch this viewing." Cinder orders.

"Yes Cinder!" Emerald miraculously much more awake.

"Wooow." Mercury drawls, shaking his head in genuine disappointment.

"Shut it!" Emerald hissed.

Cinder smiles coldly at them. "Well, Mercury. You've finally pulled it off. You've managed to dash my hopes entirely. With some help, I see." she turns to look at the rest of the group.

"Quack!"

"Neptune, seriously, not helping!" Oscar said ebowing him.

"I can try."

"I'm very curious. Where exactly are you from?" Cinder asks calmly.

"Don't you snitch!" Nora shouted at the screen.

"We're from rem-" Neptune started before Oscar stopped him.

"Neptune, no!"

"Oh right... Thanks for stopping me, Oscar. 'Cause I can't shut-."

"They're from Remnant." Trifa deadpanned.

"Traitor!" Ruby glared at the girl on the screen. Her anger was shared by many in the audience. Whether good or bad.

Blake was feeling the same amount of betrayal twice after remembering how Trifa was one of Ada-his agents sent to kidnap her in the past.

" Little bow girl, why?!" Neptune shouted out in disbelief.

"Because my name is Trifa."

Nora huffed, "Well maybe your name should little bi-!"

"Nora please." Ren asked his oldest friend and companion to let it go.

"'Sigh.' Fine, but I'm still mad." Nora said.

"Oh good. I'll stop by there on the way home. Pick up some space eggs, some space milk, and BLOW IT THE F**K UP!" Cinder screamed at them before calming here. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm usually far more composed. I'm just a little bit ABSOLUTELY LIVID." She said with barely contained rage.

"Oh, Cinder. Quit being such a bitch. I lost my chance at immortality too and you don't see me crying about it." Mercury said mocking with a smirk.

"Yep. Sucks to suck!" Yang stayed for both Cinder's in the audience and on screen.

"Care to say that to my face." Cinder stood up.

"Whoa now One Eye Cinder. We can't fight here, remember, so I can say whatever I like and there's nothing you can do to stop me." Yang explains with a toothy grin.

Cinder growls, but reluctantly sat back down as she began to curse this theater's damned rules.

"Yes, Mercury. But you see, the difference between us is I'll live long enough to regret it." Cinder charges at Mercury and engages him in battle with a battle cry.

Scene cuts to Jaune flying through the sky

"Hey we were getting to the good part!" Mercury shouted.

"And what part would that exactly be Mercury?" Cinder asked directly.

"The fight scene, what else." He said nonchalantly.

Cinder stared at him for a moment before looking back at the screen. Mercury was one of the few people that she could tolerate back talking to her so she paid it no mind.

"Everything looks the goddamn same on this goddamn planet!" He thinks and sighs before he sees something on the ground. "Wait a minute, a body! SOCIAL ACTIVITY!" Jaune yells as he yells flying down and landing next to a body, which was Hazel. "Please tell me you're not dead!"

Hazel begins to speaks in Namekian/Klingon

"What the hell is he saying?" Coco asked.

"It appears he is attempting to communicate with Mr. Arc's alternate in their native tongue." Ozpin rationalized.

"Do you know what he's saying Jaune?" Velvet asked.

"Velvet, I think Ozpin means-."

Velvet giggles before she starts laughing. Her team along with his shortly after.

Jaune was staring at them confusedly before his eyes widened in realization. He chuckled while rolling his eyes, "Oh haha, very funny Velvet."

Ruby just stared at the exchange expressionless, the joke was funny but for some reason she didn't want to laugh. Weird.

"Ah, crap. I find the only living thing for miles- and he's so broken he can't even talk right."

" I was speaking Namekian, you idiot. Don't you know anything about your own people?" Hazel gasps out, barely holding on to life.

"Well, we're demons, right?" Jaune asks hopefully.

"Eh, more like slug people."

"Ah, dammit! I liked it better when I was a demon."

"And I liked it better when I had proper bladder control. Nobody's perfect."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask about that. What happened?"

"Let's just say our world elder's kind of a giant green asshole."

Jaune and many of the other male audience members bowed their heads in silence for loss bestowed on the Namekian people.

"Yeesh! Port's a bit of a dick in this one… or lack thereof," Yang quipped.

"YANG!"

"Too soon?" Yang winced.

"Preachin' to the choir on that one." Jaune agreed, an image of Ozpin showing in his head. "Well, it's been fun, but I have to go DIE again…" He turns to leave.

Jaune mentally groaned as he remembered that in this world his life was the one entwined with Ozpin. Also he no more thrilled about the prospect of seeing his alternate die (again?) in a way that could've been easily avoided.

"Dang Arc, you're a bit sassy in this world, huh?" Coco asked.

"And green with antennas." Velvet whispered to Fox.

"Ahhh," Fox nodded, getting a clue of what the counterpart looked like.

"Wait. I might be able to help you." gasped out Hazel.

"Look, buddy. If you want to add me on MySpace, I switched to Spacebook a while ago." Jaune turns to left again.

"What's MySpace?" Oscar asked.

"Beats me, but it sounds mega old." Yang commented.

Ozpin, Glynda, Qrow and even Winter winced at Yang's unintentional jab at them. All of them who used to own MySpace accounts.

Salem just looked confused at the mention of these names. 'What's a MySpace and Spacebook? Is it a form of communication?' She thought to herself.

"No, no, no, no. Listen. I think I know something that might work out for both of us. I don't wanna die and you seem pretty lonely."

"DESPERA-, I mean, go on."Jaune said, getting yells before switching back to a normal tone.

"There's a special ability our people share. Forbidden, even amongst our most sacred clans."

"And we're just going to abuse it?" Jaune asked

"Oh, maliciously!" Hazel said with a grin.

"Bitchin'! How we do?"

"Well that didn't take much convincing at all." Emerald said, impressed by how quickly it took the dying Hazel to convince Arc to comment on what was probably the Namekians form of the Black Arts.

"Hey Jaune-Jaune needs all the power he can get if he wants to kick Cinder's butt!" Nora shot back. "Yeah!" Ruby echoed Nora's sentiment.

"Well, first you put your hand upon me."

" 'Kay" He places his hand on Hazel's elbow)

"Yes. Like that. Now lower."

"Uh-huh."

"Lower."

"Hmm…"

"Little lower."

"Hmm..".

"Ah! If we had junk, you'd be gay right now." Jaune groans as Hazel smirks at him. "Fusing!"

"Gods Dammit!" Jaune facepalmed. He couldn't believe how his alternate would fall for such an obvious trick…. though to be honest he probably would have fallen for it all the same.

Jaune fuses with Hazel, a bright light blinding the viewers. After it's disappears, Jaune only is there and he looks at his hands in wonder.

"Wow. Unreal. My gosh. This is amazing! I feel INCREDIBLE!" He then begins to chant Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! I can win! I feel great! I-can-do-this! HAAA…"

Hazel's voice from inside is heard inside Jaune's head. "What are you doing?" He asked.

"Nothing." Jaune replies after stammering a bit.

"Really? 'Cause it looked like you were chanting to yourself."

"Are you in my head?" Jaune ask changing the subject.

"Yup. Don't worry; supposedly I should fade away into your subconscious. Sooner or later."

"Is this what it was like for you?" Jaune asked Oscar.

"Pretty much." Oscar deadpanned

"...Wow, that's really weird." Jaune slumped in his chair.

"Yep. Well, you kinda get used to it after a while." Oscar replied.

"Does it?" Jaune asked him seriously.

"...No." Oscar slumped into his chair as well.

'If I could have carried this burden in my original body for all these millennia and spared you, I would have… no one deserves this burden.' Ozpin told himself in his mind. He determined it would fix nothing if he told them that, there was no changing the past.

"Okay. So, what now?"

"By my estimate, this fusion should have given you just enough power to wipe out the bitch who killed our people."

"And?"

"Well, let me put this in terms you'll understand: You can win! You feel great! You-can-do-this!" Hazel said, repeating Jaune's chant.

"Oh, ha-ha!"

"Yeah go Jaune/Fearless Leader!" Ruby and Nora both cheered.

Jaune's face turned beet red, but he did appreciate their show of support.

The scene cuts to Mercury and Cinder in a brawler lock

"Impudent... little…" Cinder hissed. Her scouter shows "F**K THIS I'M OUT" before exploding on her face, Cinder grunting in pain.

"Damn, Mercury must actually be pretty strong to make that device off itself," Yang stated.

"Why do you sound so surprised blondie? Still sore about our match up?" Mercury quipped.

"You are so lucky I can't mop the floor with your face." Yang shot back, her eyes flashing crimson.

Mercury and Cinder both back off, producing a small crater due to their power.

"I'm impressed, Mercury. When did you graduate from pull-ups?" Cinder said mocking.

"About the same time you got off the rag." Mercury fired back.

Cinder smirks a bit. "Cute. But bear no false hopes, Mercury. You're a mere paper tiger in front of a storm. You have no idea what true power I possess."

"It's that you can transform, right?"

"I can transform…" Cinder's face's falls. "Okay, when and how?"

"Guldo told me."

A flashback of a conversation between Mercury and Guldo appears

"So... Did you know that Cinder can transform?" Guldo said.

"Huh. That right?" Mercury said disinterested.

"Yeah. And Burter's gay."

"Really!?" Mercury asked, genuinely surprised

(back to present)

"And then I threw a dog treat at him. True story."

"That's so rude!" said the collective voices of Ruby, Weiss, Velvet, and Fiona.

"Oh cry me a river, I lost my conscience long ago." Mercury replied back.

"Right. But if you are so aware, why do you persist in goading me?" Cinder question raising an eyebrow.

Mercury grinned viciously."Because Cinder. You're not dealing with the average Saiyan warrior anymore. I am a Super Saiyan!"

….

"A what?" Oscar asked.

Cinder rolls her eyes at this apparently hearing this before. "Oh, here we go!"

"That's right, Cinder. I've arisen beyond the limits of a normal Saiyan, and into the realm of legend- the legend that you fear. The legend known throughout the entire universe as the most powerful warrior to ever exist!" Cinder starts speaking faintly at this point alongside him. "I, Prince Mercury, have become a..". Cinder cuts him off

"...Super Saiyan. Blah, blah, blah, blah, I get it. Then you slayed the Jabberwocky and went on to save Narnia." She clearly wasn't taking him seriously.

"Wow! This Super Saiyan sounds awesome!" Yang concluded. Her sister as well as Jaune, Nora, Oscar and Ren. What? He could like things.

"Thanks for the praise Blondie." Mercury said.

"Yeah something tells me your alternate is way too overestimating himself." Emerald stated.

"You're just jealous you're not a Super Saiyan." Mercury shot back, unfazed by her earlier remark. Causing Emerald to roll her eyes.

While the name seemed silly to the more mature members of the audience, they too were intrigued by the tale of this being.

"Go ahead and mock me, Cinder, but I'm not afraid of you. So why don't you doll yourself up and get ready for a night on the town, because I'm about to take you to a ballroom blitz."

"Fine. I'll indulge you, Mr. Super Saiyan. But before I do I have a funny little story I'd like to tell you."

"Funny how?"

"I like to call it, "I killed your dad"."

"...Was that supposed to shock me?" Mercury questioned.

Mercury stares at Cinder blankly. "So "ha-ha" funny."

"You see, thanks to a rogue lower-class warrior, your father caught wind of my plans…"

(flashback to planet Mercury)

A saiyan runs up to What seemed to be Marcus Black

"King Mercury, I have urgent news!"

"Speak, Butarega." King Marcus/Mercury said in a booming tone.

'Wait why does the old bastard have my name? Eh, guess it doesn't matter. Wait, does that make me a junior?!' Mercury thought.

"Well well, looks like I should call you Junior now. Huh?" Emerald comments, her smirk showing she greatly appreciated this new knowledge.

"I'm not a junior!" Mercury yelled.

"What's that? Couldn't hear you Junior!" Yang joins in on the teasing.

"I'm gonna get back at you both. Just you wait." Mercury growled. Hating how the tables have turned on him.

"Bardock has gone absolutely mad, sire!"

Off-screen someone screamed out: "Cinderrrr!"

"What's all the commotion about?" King Marcus/Mercury asked.

"He's been telling everyone that Cinder plans to destroy Mercury!"

"Wait, my son, the planet, or me?"

BUTAREGA looks at the king for a few moments before answering " ...Yes."

King Marcus/Mercury blasts Butarega away.

"Oh my gods!" Ruby cried out.

She and many others in the audience were shocked that the Saiyan King just killed his subordinate so callously. However, both Salem and Cinder were impressed at the King's show of force.

"Freakin' smartass." King Marcus/Mercury mutters and goes look a the Counselor. "Counselor Obleck, what do you think?"

"Let me tell you what you need to do. You need to sit him down…" Oobleck began.

"Uh-huh." King Marcus/Mercury said nodding his head.

"...you look her dead in the eye…"

"Yes."

" ...and you say, "Don't blow up my planet.""

"What? He can't be serious." Winter remarked.

"It appears that this version of Bart is not as wise or tactful as he is in our world." Ozpin rationalized.

Teams RWBY and JNR pressed 'X' to doubt.

"And you think that will work?" King Marcus/Mercury asked.

"she'd have to be aaaaaaawfully evil if it didn't. And I'm not gonna lie, I like the cut of her jib." Oobleck said with a grin.

"All right, but I want you to take my son, the Prince, off-planet just in case things go south."

"Don't worry, sir. You'll do juuuuuust fine."

"Wait. Hold on a damn minute, the old bastard actually cares about someone other than himself? Yeah like that's legit." Mercury crosses his arms.

Some in the audience looked at the silver haired assassin and just for a moment, they felt sympathy for him.

shifts to King Mercury approaching Cinder,.

"Cinder, can I sit down and have a word with-" King Marcus/Mercury said before Cinder interpreted him.

"SHORYUKEN!" Cinder yelled out, uppercutting King Marcus/Mercury in the jaw, causing the latter to fall back while producing with an echoing scream.

"K.O.! YOU WIN!" A voice yelled out.

"Yatta." Cinder whisper out looking at the king's dead body with grin

"Seems negotiations didn't go as he was expecting." Cinder floated to herself. What she didn't notice was that Mercury had stared at her after that statement was said.

He wasn't sure why but hearing her gloat about killing his dad made him feel… odd. It's probably the popcorn he was eating. Nothing more.

(back to present)

"And then I blew the planet up. The end."

Mercury stares at Cinder confused. "How did you know about the parts you weren't there for?"

Cinder gives a blank stare at Mercury and then proceeds to transform.

"Wow, nice comeback Cinder. Really showed him." Jaune said.

Cinder chose to ignore the blonde fool, she didn't dare waste the energy to acknowledge him.

"Nep, do you feel that?" Oscar asked with a fearful look as Cinder's power grew as her body.

"I taste that!" Neptune screamed a look as fear on his face as well.

Cinder finishes transforming into his second form, a Bigger bulkier form.

"Whoa! She's huge! Like that Hazel guy from Haven!" Nora shouted.

"She sure is..." Emerald didn't know how to feel about this new form of Cinder's. It looked too bulky and tall.

"She kinda looks like a bull with those horns." Ruby noted.

"All done." Cinder smiles a bit looking at all of them satisfied. "And judging by the expression on your face, so are you."

"What...? How?" The usual cockiness in his voice was gone.

"Let's be practical and put a number to that feeling, shall we? Last time I clocked this form it was at... one million." Cinder's smile only grows widener.

The audience didn't know what she meant by that but they determined that it must've meant that she was terrifyingly strong.

Cinder loved it, if only she could feel what that power was like. She might even get drunk from it.

"You're lying!"

"Am I? Am I really?" Cinder sarcastically said, raises her hand and explodes the island that everyone is currently standing on, making an explosion so big that it can be seen from the planet. Cinder is shown standing on what's left of the island.

"Whoa!" Fiona and CVY cried out. This being their first time seeing a destructive force of this magnitude. Whitley also sweat dropped, while he had been pleased with how powerful he was in one of the previous worlds. This was an entirely different kind of power than he thought was ever possible.

"Not impressed!" Mercury yelled off screen. "I can do that, too!"

"Neptune, are you okay?" Oscar asks flying above the destroyed island.

"Yeah, and I've got a Little bow girl right here!" Neptune replied with a grin holding Trifa closely.

Cinder begans sings to. " Peaceful young races with fires on their houses

Millions of voices all silenced like mouses

Watching the cowards bow toward their new king

These are a few of my favorite things "

"Oh great she's singing now, as if this Cinder wasn't terrifying enough." Oscar said while clinging to his seat in fear.

"Is it just me, or is she singing to herself?" Neptune asks but is cut off by Cinder charging at him and impaling him with one of her horns, causing Neptune to drop Trifa.

(Neptune Owned Count: 15)

Neptune screams in pain.

"Oh no!" Ruby cried out. But immediately was off put by the showed counter on the screen.

Some in the audience giggled at the sight of the counter, even if they knew it was wrong.

"Neptune!" Oscar screamed out.

"Well, he's dead." Mercury deadpanned in his head.

"This is... the worst... pai-i-i-in!" Neptune said through gritted his teeth.

"Really? Sure it isn't this?" She looks up and starts shifting her head up and down." Or this? Or this? Or this? Or this? (Neptune Owned Count: 16-21, with two 1Ups coming up in the last two ones)

"Neptune, stop! You're making him stronger!" Oscar pleaded.

"I-can't-help-it!" Neptune screamed.

(Neptune Owned Count: 22-25)

At this point most of the audience were laughing. It was a horribly dark joke, but the presentation was spot on and too hilarious. The huntsmen and huntresses that knew the blue haired boy felt very guilty, but they couldn't stop laughing.

"One down!" Cinder throws Neptune off her horn and towards the lake. "Ah, I think impalement is my favorite way to kill a person."

Oscar begans to shake with rage. "You condescending... sadistic... callous... MOTHERF**KER!"

"Pardon?" Cinder ask with a raised eyebrow but then Oscar attacks Cinder by kicking and punching her in the face before knocking her upward with an uppercut and finally kicks her towards the ground. Oscar then starts charging up an energy blast.

"WHOO! Go Cute Boy Oscar! Woo-woo-woo!" Nora cheered on her newest teammate. His other friends joined in cheering for Oscar's alternate.

Oscar was deeply embarrassed but also very ecstatic that he was able to keep up with the frightening tyrant.

"Oscar SMASH EFFEMINATE ALIEN! Oscar STRONGEST THERE IS!" Oscar thought to himself.

Oscar launches a ki blast directly at Cinder, causing a massive explosion. Oscar is then seen in midair catching his breath. Cinder is seen lying face down on the ground, covered in sand from Oscar's assault.

"Ten points for team ALPN!" Nora cheered.

"Yeah, how's that feel, Cinder?" Mercury yelled out. "Now if you can, why don't you pick your sorry ass up and take on a REAL Saiyan…" Mercury's voice trails off as Cinder is seen getting up with a annoyed look.

"Huh. That happened." She muttered before turning to Mercury. "Mercury, mind sitting right there for just a moment, I need to go play babysitter."

"Oh crap, abort Oscar! Abort!" Jaune called out.

"Think! What would Dad do in this situation?" Oscar began to think to himself in a panic.

A flashback of Sun wearing a backpack showed up.

"Bye, son!" Sun said in the flashback in a big dopey smile.

"Damn it Sun." Blake facepalmed.

"Wow, my other self has some issues." Oscar realizes.

(back to present)

"I'm beginning to think I have issues…" Oscar thought to himself when he got punched by Cinder and hit the ground. He tries to get up, but gets crushed by Cinder's foot.

Cinder turns to grin at the Silver haired man. "So, Mercury. Does this get you angry?"

"It's getting ME angry!" Nora shouts at the screen. Her team, RWBY, Qrow, Ozpin and Winter show the same hostility towards the Cinder in the screen.

Mercury shrugs. "Not really. Kind of a smartass."

Cinder frowns "Well then, why am I even bothering?"

"Because you get off on it?" Mercury said hetaintly.

Cinder grins viciously. "Oh, unbelievably... Huh?" Cinder moves to dodges a disc but her tail gets cut off. She turns to glare at culprit.

"Alright, who has the balls?!" She screams out.

Camera zooms on to Neptune, who is the one responsible for cutting off Cinder's tail. Neptune then turns around and starts repeatedly spanking his butt.

"Kiss my ass, bitch! I'm immortal!"

Cinder growls angrily and flies after Neptune.

"Whoa! Neptune's back up already? I thought he was out for the count!" Yang confused. Happy that he lived but still confused as to how he was back in good shape.

Neptune imitates Curly's whooping sounds while flying away and screams: "Suuuck myy diiii…"

The shifts to Mercury thinking to himself. "How the hell did he get up? Oh, my God, I swear if he used that wish of immortality on himself, I am going to murd... " He stops himself and opens his mouth in shock. And speaks out loud after a short pause. "That... bastard."

"Hahaha-ha-ha! You can't kill an immortal!" Emerald laughed.

"Why are you laughing? Weren't you cheering for Cinder?" Mercury implies.

"I am but I'm also cheering against you." Emerald explains.

"You're despicable, you know that right?" Mercury deadpanned.

The scene shifts to Trifa healing Oscar "Come on... You can't leave me alone here; you're the only one I can talk to!" She mutters to herself.

Oscar eyes open, regaining consciousness."I... you... healed me."

"You are the only one I respect."

"Then why did you heal Neptune?"

"The better question is: why did I tell him he was immortal?"

"Ok where is this girl in real life, I'm starting to like her style." Emerald comments.

"I'm starting to not like this Bow Girl." Weiss concludes.

"Yeah that was kinda mean." Ruby adds.

"But it did give him a helluva confidence boost." Yang points out.

The audience reluctantly agrees with Yang.

Neptune flies back to the battlefield with a huge grin. "Holy crap! Thank God I'm immortal!"

"Actually, I healed you, you idiot!" Trifa said off-screen.

"Wait, so I could have died back there?" Neptune realized with his eyes widing.

"After all that you're just going to tear him down like that!" Weiss shouted.

"Yeah, and unlike the runt and I, you don't get a power boost from it." Mercury replied.

"Hax! I call hax!" Neptune whined.

The audience agreed with Screen Neptune.

"How did you escape?" Oscar asked.

"Oh, it was awesome!" See, She was gaining on me there for a minute, but then I managed to lose her in some crevices, but she kept cutting me off at every pass."

"She didn't just blow it up?" Mercury pointed out?"

"Thought the same thing, but no! So I thought fast and I used the Solar Flare on her!"

"And then you used your Kienzan to cut her in half?" Oscar asked gleefully

"Um…"

Cinder flies back to the battlefield, angrily and screams at them. "I WILL MOUNT YOUR HEAD WHERE MY TAIL USED TO BE!"

"To answer your question, Oscar. No, I did not do that." Neptune muttered.

"Damn seriously? He could have finished her off so easily, it was literally in his grasp." Coco shakes her head.

"Douse this bitch!" Mercury yelled.

Mercury, Oscar, and Neptune fire a barrage of energy blasts at Cinder, covering her in smoke.

"Did we get her?" Neptune asked

"Neptune, we can feel her energy. Why do you bother asking?" Oscar asked back annoyed.

"I'm an optimist."

"You're an idiot." Mercury said, glaring at him.

"You're both wrong. You're dead." Cinder said as the smoke cleared and is shown to be unfazed by the blasts.

"You know what? I'm sick of this." Oscar said, his face hardening. "If I'm gonna die, then I'm gonna go out the same way Jaune would!" He moves in to attack Cinder head-on.

"Oscar, no!" Neptune goes to fly after Oscar.

"No! What are you doing?! Don't go out like my other self!" Jaune shouted clutching his head.

RWBY, ALPN, and Ozpin were clouded in worry.

" No, goddamn it!" Mercury also flies after Oscar when a new figure surrounded by light appears in front of the trio. The light clears, and the figure is revealed to be Jaune.

"M... Mr. Jaune!" Oscar cried out.

"Yes! Fearless Leader is here for the rescue!" Nora cheered.

The Jaune in the audience let out a sigh of relief.

"Well, well, well! I'm legitimately surprised I missed one of you." Cinder smiles a bit. "But that's just fine because I've been working on some jokes. Now tell me if you've heard this one: How many Namekians does it take to-" She gets sent flying by a punch from Jaune.

"Just one." Jaune said stoically.

"GO JAUNE GO!" Ruby screamed.

Most of the audience looked towards her from her outburst, including Jaune who was staring wide eyed at her.

"Er, you know. Smash Tyrant Cinder's no good face." She attempts to save face, throwing out air punches to diffuse the situation.

"...Yeah!" Nora shouted.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m Always Curious Part Twenty Nine

Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Also if y’all didn’t see, I made an I’m Always Curious Playlist, check it out if you’re interested 😊 Also toying with the next chapter being in Pike’s POV, we’ll see tho

Warnings: Cursing and mentions of canon-typical violence Summary: When I had determined the most appropriate position for the tag and that couldn’t quiet my mind any longer, I headed down to the shuttle bay.

Having had opposing pictures of her character drawn for me by Spock and Tilly, meeting Commander Michael Burnham was a bit of a trip.

The things that Spock had told me about her led me to expect someone austere, distant. But while she was composed, she was cordial, going so far as to make small talk on the way to the Ready Room. It wasn’t in the forced way that it had originally been with Jett, either. Apparently Burnham had heard a fair amount from me from Tilly. Jett joined us in the turbolift, and from there it was a short trek to the Ready Room.

I felt my stomach twist in apprehension as we neared the doors. While I had had some time to process the fact that Pike and I were in close range again, I had spent far too much of the last hour reflecting on the look he’d given me. I was distinctly out of place in the Ready Room. Not only was I the most unfamiliar with the crew, but I was still in my civvies. The Captain was already there, a PADD in hand. His eyes darted to the three of us we entered, but they quickly lowered to the device again as he said, “Commander Burnham, a word, please.” Burnham excused herself from Jett and myself, and I took the moment to look around. I ached with the familiarity - the sight of Chris’ table from Mojave in the room, along with a few other things that had made the trip over from the Enterprise. I drifted toward a window, unable to help my fingers trail over the wood of the table on my way. Jett followed at a pace, glancing at Burnham and Pike before stopping beside me. “Any idea how long Durling’ll take?” She asked. I shook my head a little. “Cornwell just said that he’d be here in a few hours.” At the sound of the Ready Room door opening, I straightened, hands tucking behind my back at attention-- And then I immediately dropped them as I scoffed, “Oh, it’s you.” “Is that any way to greet me?” Eli asked, walking deeper into the room, “You used to stand at attention, be all ‘yessir’ about it.” “I am your superior now, Durling.” “In rank only,” He retorted, coming to stop just in front of me. Despite his words, though, he was pointing that warm smile down at me, like not a day had passed or a thing had changed. And I couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto my face at his familiar gaze and teasing. After the war, Durling had been assigned to the USS Cetus, a temporary post as he awaited an official reassignment. While we spoke from time to time, I hadn't seen him in weeks. “God, I forgot what a dick you were,” Jett grumbled beside us. Eli turned to her, brows raising in surprise. “And it’s good to see you, too, Reno. Especially considering we thought--” “Oh, I know. This one got all misty on me about it,” Jett nodded to me. “Unnecessary detail,” I muttered.  “You can cry? I thought you’d gotten your tear ducts removed back on Starbase 115,” Eli frowned at me. “I would punch you if we weren’t in mixed company.” “Restraint? Wow, that’s new for you.”  We turned at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind us. Pike was there, brows raised a little. Eli smiled, turning fully from myself at Jett. “Eli Durling,” He introduced himself to both Pike and Burnham. “Commander Michael Burnham. Welcome aboard.” “Christopher Pike,” Pike tacked on as he shook Eli’s hand. Eli glanced back at me, brow raised, and I felt the urge to punch him intensify. Instead I just gave him a slight glare before averting my eyes. He knew about me and Pike. I had spent the last year with the man, we’d spent that time having one another’s backs. He knew all of my secrets— but then, I knew all of his. “We should start the briefing, the target’s nearly in range,” Pike added as dropped Eli's hand. “We’ve never run any 22-9-14s on the Discovery,” Burnham explained. “Well, you’re in luck, because the three of us ran a lot of them," Eli nodded back toward me and Jett. “Define a lot, I mean how many times did you ruin your phaser cannons after you transferred?” Jett asked. “Well,” Eli glanced back at me, “I’m not sure I have a count on the phaser cannons, but I personally ran around a hundred, and the Commander ran a number somewhere in the 300s.” “Somewhere? Where in the 300s?” Jett frowned at me. “I’m not sure that’s pertinent to this briefing, as I don’t have the same penchant for bragging that Lieutenant Commander Durling does,” I folded my arms across my chest. Eli smiled.

“Regardless, you’re in good hands,” He added, turning back to Pike and Burnham, “I’ll coordinate from the Bridge while the Commander takes care of the tagging process. Any questions?” “I’ve got one,” I piped up. “Of course you do--” “What am I tagging?” I asked over him. Eli nodded to Pike’s desk, and Pike stepped out of the way, waving his hand with silent permission. I watched as Eli walked over to it, opening a file and pulling up a holographic display of a ship. I pushed off of the wall and walked over to join him with the others, my eyes wandering the surface of the ship. “Is that a DY-100 Sleeper?” I frowned, bracing my hands on the desk to get a better look. “It is,” He confirmed, “The S.S. Botany Bay.” “You’re familiar with this craft?” Burnham asked. I glanced at her. “Few months into the war, Command was looking for craft that might be able to slip past Klingon sensors. These vessels are antiques— 20th century, decommissioned. Older metals, outdated tech, but high crew capacity.” “And the Botany Bay was used during the war?” Pike asked. I turned back to the hologram. “Only two ships were in good enough condition to shore up and get off of the ground. This was neither of them.” “Maybe it’s just being tracked for longevity, see how long it holds up,” Jett suggested. “No,” I shook my head a little, “No, Cornwell said colony when I came aboard…” I straightened up, folding my arms back across my chest, “We’re either gonna get radio silence or hear some really cryptic shit.” “That’s the spirit,” Durling clapped my shoulder, and I shot him a sidelong glance. “You realize this is gonna be a manual?” I asked him. “Ah-- No,” He laughed nervously, “No, you don’t have time for manual.” “Time or not— Look at the surface area on that thing,” I nodded to the hologram, “If this is an original sleeper class and launched back in the 1990s when they were originally being built, it’s possible that the integrity of the hull is going to be compromised. That means that the arms on the bot are going to be too rough for this task.” “What would you have to do to attach it manually?” Burnham asked.  “She’s gotta eject herself from her ship,” Jett told them. “How much does that differ from a ship-based tag?” Burnham asked. “... It’s different,” Eli tread carefully as he said so. I could feel him eyeing me critically, and I couldn’t help the way my jaw clenched as my stomach swooped with nerves. I hated manual tags the most. There were fewer safety nets: no tether, no easy way back to the ship if something went very seriously wrong--just me and a jet pack and a whole lotta hope. “Considering the fact that Command even authorized this mission in the first place, a manual attachment should be our last resort,” he added, “And who am I to argue with Command?” “Usually the second in line,” Jett answered. “Who’s first?” He frowned. There was a pause as I felt the two of them direct their gazes to me. “I resent that,” I muttered. “Which puts you in direct opposition with Commander Reno, which, given the longevity of her rank, technically puts you at odds with your superior--” Durling muttered. “O-kay.” “What are the steps that we need to get this off of the ground?” Pike asked, cutting over our bickering. I suddenly felt like a schoolkid called out for chatting in class. “Reno needs to look over craft, make sure it’s safe to fly,” Eli told him, “Your ship’s doctor needs to give our pilot a once-over as well, same reason.” I rolled my eyes a little. I was a little tired, more than a little jittery at the prospect of being behind the controls of an attack fighter again, but I had flown and been cleared for flight in worse condition. “Anything else?” Pike asked. “No,” Eli shook his head, “Barring any complications, we should be set to launch… round 1800 hours.” “If that’s the timeline, I’m gonna go get some sleep,” I straightened, “Thanks guys.” I turned away, heading for the door as I heard Durling pipe up: “Oh, and Commander?” “Yes,” I turned back, “Lieutenant Commander?” Durling took a moment, eyes sweeping down my body, then up again. “Where are we with that uniform?” I forced out a little laugh before nodding once, “I’m gonna leave now.”

-- I knew that I needed to get rest, but the prospect of a manual tag kept had set my mind racing. Instead I studied the schematics that I had available for a DY-100. And when I had determined the most appropriate position for the tag and that couldn’t quiet my mind any longer, I headed down to the shuttle bay. -- “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Jett almost scowled at the sight of me stepping onto craft. “Not tired,” I fibbed. Jett gave me a short look before lowering herself beside the control panel. “Make yourself useful, then, pass me the magna-spanner.” I crouched down beside Jett’s toolkit and found the requested implement before passing it to her. Once I had, I sat on the floor of the craft, leaning back against the wall and looking around the small cabin. It seemed so much more confining than I remembered— crammed with measuring instruments, controls, an emergency med pack. I directed my gaze toward the hatch in the ceiling, the one I’d be pushing myself out into open space from in just a short while. “So,” Jett spoke up, “What’s the plan after this?” I smiled at the question— just like old times. “Maybe get some more pie?” I offered. “And sugar crash later?” “Mhm. It’s the risk you take when you eat the hard stuff.” “And after that?” “...Dunno. Maybe something that actually utilizes what I went to the Academy to do. You know, speak and translate something other than Klingon, work with texts and languages we’re less familiar with…” “But we put our dreams away?” “But we put our dreams away.” Jett leaned back, tossing the magna-spanner at me. I caught hold of it, depositing it in the toolbox. She humphed, “Well, you’re morose as shit, but your reflexes seem to be in good order. Should be helpful, huh, Captain?” I frowned before I heard, “Yes, it should.” My head was turned from him, and I had been focused on other parts of the ship, but I hadn’t even heard him come aboard. I glanced up at Pike to find him standing with his hands tucked behind his back. He cleared his throat. “Doctor Pollard needs to examine you,” He nodded over his shoulder. “Right,” I pushed myself to stand before glancing down at Jett, “You’re set here?” “Please leave,” Was her smiling answer. I smiled a little myself, shaking my head before following Pike off of the craft. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the way he had to duck to ensure he didn’t hit his head on the way out. A brief wave of embarrassment crested over me when he glanced back at the sound. Pollard and Eli were in the shuttle bay, not too far off from the craft. The introductions were short as I shrugged out of my jacket and tossed it to Eli. He caught it without a question or hesitation, hardly missing a word as he regaled Dr. Pollard with the story of his part in the Battle of Xisad. She seemed to only be listening out of politeness, humming in response now and again. Knowing Eli, though, this chatter was meant to distract all of us from what I was about to do. Dr. Pollard’s hand skimmed over my left shoulder blade and I jolted a little, tensing as I sucked in a sharp breath.  “Alright?” She asked. I nodded as I heard her switch to the scanner on her tricorder. “Quite a lot of scar tissue,” She added. “Caught the wrong end of a bat’leth,” I explained flatly. “Is there pain?” “No.” “Does it hinder any of your movements?” “No.” When Pollard returned her hand to that same area, fingers carefully massaging the area to ensure the truth of my statement, I held carefully still. “...Is there a right end of bat’leth?” Eli asked, breaking the tense silence from our superiors. “The side without the pointed blade would’ve been preferable,” I told him, glancing in his direction. “You’re so particular,” He scoffed, but he was smiling. I shook my head a little, feeling the tension drain from me a little. “Well, apart from a slightly elevated heart rate, everything seems to be in order," Pollard reported from behind me. “That’s not a concern?” Pike asked. “According to the Commander’s prior medical records, there is typically some uptick in heart rate prior to these particular missions. She’s fit to fly," Pollard tucked her tricorder into its holder. I gave her a small nod of thanks. “And yet not outfitted to fly. Starfleet regulation 67: an officer acting in the interests of the Federation must be in uniform to command or commandeer any vessel,” Durling rattled off. I hummed, nodding, “An excellent point, Lieutenant Commander, but you seem to be forgetting Starfleet regulation 67-A: In the event of an emergency procedure, Starfleet personnel are permitted to eschew Federation vestments as the mission demands. Or have you forgotten who that rule had to be instituted for?” Durling shuffled closer, holding my jacket back out to me as he muttered, “Can’t recall.” “Well— that’s hilarious, because I can. And I’ll be in a Starfleet flight suit, I do believe that that counts as uniform.” “It does,” Pike piped up. “Exactly— thank you, Captain.” “Anytime, Commander.” “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get changed and run through the pre-flight checklist with Jett,” I added. I thanked Pollard again before I turned, heading back to the attack fighter. Anytime, Commander. Two words. Easy. Two words that set my heart racing faster than the prospect of a manual tag-and-run did. Tag list: @angels-pie​​ ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta​​  ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​​ ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know​​ ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles​​ ; @inmyowncorner​​  ; @tardis-23​​ ; @2manyfandoms-solittletime​ ; @paintballkid711​​ ; @katrynec​​​ ; @hypnobananaangelfish​​ ; @elen-aranel​​ ; @blueeyesatnight​​

[440mxs-wife]

The Great Debate

Pairing: Sam x Reader. Other Characters: Dean, Sheriff, Deputy Frank Walters (OMC’s)

Word Count: 6080+

Warnings: mild show-level violence

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Are you kidding me, Sam?" you exclaimed. "There's no question in my mind who would win that fight," you grumbled.

Sam rolled his eyes from the front seat of the Impala. He turned around to face you sitting in the back seat. "Okay, Miss Smarty Pants, who do YOU think would win that fight?" he demanded.

You let out an exasperated sigh before answering. "First of all, I don't think, Sam, I already know. Lieutenant Worf from Starfleet would definitely win in a fight against Chewbacca!" you retorted.

Sam snorted. "No way! Chewie has the brute strength, not to mention he's oh, I don't know, EIGHT FEET TALL," Sam shot back.

"Maybe so, but Lieutenant Worf is a KLINGON, plus he has the training and the skills to fight with multiple weapons. He doesn't just rely on 'brute strength'," you mocked.

"Yeah, but--" Sam started.

"Oh, for crying out loud, will you two nerds just shut up!" Dean thundered.

You and Sam glared at each other for about ten seconds, then busted out laughing at Dean's outburst.

"Relax, Dean. We're not really fighting," you explained between giggles.

"Yeah Dean, relax. Just two best friends having a healthy debate of Star Wars vs. Star Trek, and why Star Wars is the best," Sam grinned.

"As if, Sam!" you shot back in mock annoyance, playfully swatting Sam's arm. You looked at Dean just in time to see him roll his eyes at the antics going on between you and his brother.

You and the Winchesters were on your way to tracking down the cause of some unusual activity in Colorado. All indications pointed to demons, especially with the traces of sulfur left behind at the crime scenes.

Dean pulled into a space in the parking lot of the Moonstone Motel. He gave the two of you one last glare before he exited the Impala and headed for the motel manager's office.

That left just you and Sam in the car, which served to kick your heart rate up a bit. His chin rested in the crook of his elbow, his arm perched on the edge of the front seat. He looked at you with a playful grin on his face.

"What?" you asked with a chuckle.

"Nothing," he replied, still with that grin on his face. "You look pretty today," he remarked softly.

You felt your cheeks grow warm at the unexpected compliment from an unexpected source. Before you could open your mouth to respond, Dean opened the car door and settled back into the driver's seat.

Dean parked the Impala in front of the rooms, then handed you a key for your own room, #12. Sam followed his brother to their room, #11. As you put the key into the lock, Dean was doing the same for their room. You flashed Sam a warm smile, then ducked into your room.

You dropped your bag on one of the chairs and perched on the edge of the bed. You took a deep breath then flopped back onto the mattress. After staring at the ceiling for a while, you decided to take a shower. While washing your hair, you replayed the events that had occurred in the car just before you arrived at the motel.

It was an age-old debate between you and Sam, Star Wars vs. Star Trek. It was something the two of you liked to engage in to annoy the hell out of Dean on long car rides. He endured it for as long as he could, then usually ended up telling the both of you to shut up. Sometimes, either you or Sam tried to get in one last parting shot against the other. Dean would again yell at the offender to shut up, and that would be the end of it.

You thought back on some of your previous discussions. Marvel vs. DC, Lord of the Rings vs. Harry Potter, even Looney Tunes vs. Tom and Jerry. Sam had fought you tooth and nail on most of those until you finally had to call a truce, basically agreeing to disagree.

However, today's debate ended without the usual fanfare of one of you trying to get in the last word. It was almost like he let you win, but Sam wasn't known to do that. He was nothing if not persistent, practically to the point of being irritating. There was no way you could ever be angry with Sam for long, though, not with how you felt about him. Then there was his last comment, just before Dean got back in the car. What was up with that? you wondered.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You had first met the Winchesters about seven years ago, when they rescued you on a shapeshifter hunt in Evansville, Indiana. Your hunting partner, Andrew, had been captured by the shifter. You tracked it through the sewer tunnels beneath the city, but by the time you found Andrew, it was too late. As you tried to recover from your initial shock of Andrew's death, the shifter ambushed you. You got knocked around, hit your head a couple of times and broke your arm in the process.

The shifter managed to get the upper hand and knocked you to the ground again. Your silver knife was just out of your reach, and you were fighting hard just to remain conscious. As the shifter was about to strike the final blow, Dean came out of the shadows and killed it.

Sam came rushing to your side, checking you for injuries, while Dean looked around for other shifters and/or victims. Once Sam was satisfied you could be moved without causing further injury, he picked you up and put you in the backseat of your '68 Nova. He drove you to the hospital and stayed while you were treated for your broken arm and probable concussion.

The hospital wouldn't release you on your own due to the concussion, so Sam volunteered to be responsible for you. He drove your car back to the motel, which happened to be the same one that they were staying in, only a couple of doors down. You spent the evening getting to know Sam, while Dean went off to the local bar to celebrate a successful hunt.

As the months went by, the two of you became best friends. After awhile, you found that your feelings toward Sam had begun to change. At first, you dismissed it as some sort of "hero worship", from the aftermath of the shifter case. Then, you thought maybe it was infatuation, from the way he took care of you, almost like a "Florence Nightingale" effect.

Eventually, you realized that your feelings for the younger Winchester went beyond best friends and were not related to the shifter incident. However, after having had your heart broken before, you were reluctant to take that leap of faith to reveal your true feelings to Sam.

Over time, you've done your best to hide them, push them down and pretend they didn't exist. Even so, the current course of action was becoming more difficult with every smile, every lingering look and every touch that electrified your skin. After what happened on the car ride today, you knew something was going to break sooner or later. You just weren't sure what you'd do when it did.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In Room #11

"So, what do you say, Sammy? What say we find a bar, have a few drinks and go check out the 'local wildlife', hmm?" Dean grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

Sam was researching something on his laptop. "Nah, you go on ahead, Dean. I'll just stay here, see what else I can find out about this case," he mumbled, eyes never leaving the computer screen.

"Come on, Sammy, you know what they say. All research and no whiskey makes Sam a dull boy," Dean teased.

Sam threw Dean one of his famous bitch faces. "Really Dean? That's the best you've got?" he grumbled.

"What's with you, man? You don't want to come out tonight for a drink and to dance with a pretty girl, you'd rather stay in. Oh, and by the way? Why did you let her win that argument today?" Dean remarked.

"What are you talking about? I didn't let her win anything. You told us to stop arguing, so we did," Sam replied.

"Yeah, but one of you usually throws in one last parting shot, and neither one of you even tried. So, I ask again, little brother, what's with you?" Dean asked. "Are you really that tired? Did you think she was right? Do you like her or something?" he persisted.

When Sam looked up in response to his last question, awareness suddenly dawned on Dean. "You do like her! I'll bet you wanted her to know what it feels like to win, so you caved! Oh, this is too sweet," Dean gloated.

"Shut up, Dean, you don't know what you're talking about," Sam growled. "Besides, even if I did have feelings for her, there's no way she'd return them. She's an amazing woman. Smart, beautiful, and she deserves someone who can give her the world. Besides, she's my best friend, for cryin' out loud. Probably all we'll ever be, though," he muttered.

Dean pursed his lips. Oh, Sammy, if only you knew what I know, he thought to himself. Dean found out about your feelings for Sam after a drunken night in the library. After one too many shots of whiskey, you'd let the confession slip out, and instantly panicked. You made Dean swear not to tell Sam, but he also made you promise to tell Sam before too much time passed.

Dean shrugged, grabbed his keys to the Impala and headed out the door. "All right, but don't wait up. You know, you don't have to stay in here all alone after I leave," he grinned mischievously.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Dean," he replied. Dean finally left the room, got into the Impala and headed for the bar. "Finally," Sam grumbled.

He thought about Dean's last comment, the one about not staying in their room all alone while he went out. Sam wondered if you were already asleep, or if you might be interested in watching a movie with him. He quickly changed into his pajamas, made sure he had the motel room key in his pocket and knocked on your door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As you towel-dried your hair, you heard the roar of the Impala's engine as she pulled away from the motel. Guess the two of them are headed out to blow off some steam, you said to yourself. As you were about to pull the blankets over your head, you heard a knock at the door. You glanced through the peephole and saw that it was Sam.

"Hi," you greeted him as you stepped aside to let him in.

"Hey," he replied. He looked at you then at the blankets turned down. "Oh, you were just going to bed, I'm sorry. I should go," he stammered.

You put your hands on his solid, muscular chest to stop him. "No, no, you don't have to go. As long as you're here, would you like to watch something on TV?" you asked hopefully.

"Sure, a-as long as I'm here," Sam smiled shyly. Your hands on his chest seemed to solidify his decision to stay.

You went over to your previous spot on the bed and got your legs under the blankets then maneuvered into a sitting position. You were having some difficulty in propping up some pillows between your back and the headboard. After he got underneath the blankets, Sam reached over and helped put the pillows in the right place for you. "Thank you, Sam," you remarked softly.

Sam looked around for the remote then found it on the nightstand by his side of the bed. He offered it to you, but you declined. He flicked the power button and started to run through the channels, finally settling on the first of four parts of The Stand by Stephen King. "Is this okay?" he asked.

You shuddered, remembering the parts that you had read from the novel that were a little disturbing this late at night. You had enough nightmares from what you saw with your own eyes on a daily basis, let alone what your imagination could conjure up. "Yeah, I'll be all right, I guess. It's just a TV show, after all," you replied nervously.

Sam chuckled softly and put his arm around you to bring you closer to his side. "Don't worry, I'm here, I've got you. I won't let anything happen to you," he promised. In response, you put your head on Sam's shoulder and your hand on his chest. You let out an audible sigh of contentment and tried to concentrate on the program. There were a couple of jump-scare moments in the show, but Sam was there to hold you and calm you back down.

Soon enough, your eyelids started to droop and you were having a hard time keeping awake to watch the program. Finally, you gave in to your exhaustion and your eyes slid closed for the night. Sam pulled you closer to his side and dipped his head towards you. He pressed his lips to your temple in a lingering kiss and whispered, "Goodnight, sweetheart."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, you woke to a heavy weight across your midsection and a toasty, warm feeling throughout your body. When you looked down, you noticed that it was Sam's arm draped across you, keeping you held close to his body. You tried to carefully ease out of bed without waking him, but Sam was having none of that. "Mmm, g'morning, baby," he mumbled then kissed your bare shoulder where your T-shirt had slipped off.

The feel of his soft lips on your bare skin sent an electric shock wave racing straight to your core. "G-good morning, Sam," you stammered. You turned over to face him and saw that his eyes were still closed. You reached over and brushed a lock of his thick chestnut hair behind his ear, then traced his jawline with your index finger. Sam caught your hand in his and kissed each fingertip, one by one.

As much as you were enjoying this, you told yourself that it wasn't real. Sam was stuck in some dream-like state, one where he was kissing some other woman just like he was kissing you. That was the only explanation you would let yourself accept. Eventually, you were able to get out from under Sam's arm and make your way to the bathroom with your bag.

Today was the day for meeting with the local authorities and questioning the witnesses. That meant wearing your Fed suit with the black pencil skirt, white button-down blouse and black blazer. You ran a quick brush through your hair then focused on your make-up. You had left your shoes by the door, only wanting to put them on at the last minute.

When you walked out of the bathroom, Sam was sitting up in bed and Dean was already in his Fed suit. He had brought coffee and breakfast with him. You could feel an awkward silence in the room, as if you'd interrupted a discussion the boys were having. Sam rubbed his eyes then got out of bed. "I'm gonna go get dressed, then meet you both back here," he stated. He flashed you a quick smile then walked out of your door and over to his and Dean's room.

Dean looked at you with an all-knowing smirk on his face. "So, how was it last night?" he asked.

"What exactly do you think happened, Dean? Sam came over after you left, and we watched TV," you mentioned.

"All I know is that Sam didn't sleep in his bed last night, so he had to have slept here," Dean pointed out.

"Dean, what more do you want me to say? I fell asleep watching TV, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up with Sam still here in my room," you explained. Which was a pleasant surprise, you thought.

"Oh-ho, a little 'Netflix and Chill', hmm?" he grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes in disgust. "Oh, will you grow up, Winchester? Not everything is about sex," you retorted.

"Fine," he huffed. "One question though," he mentioned.

"What?" you replied wearily.

"Who was the big spoon?" Dean asked with a know-it-all smirk still on his face.

You answered him by slapping his face with a pillow from the bed. Sam walked back into the room just in time to witness the pillow being slammed into his brother's face, causing him to laugh. You gave each other a high-five.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After breakfast, the three of you climbed into the Impala and went over to the local sheriff's department. You wanted to see what they had turned up and also to get a look at the victims. Sam and Dean introduced themselves to the sheriff and began chatting with them about the crime scene and the victims. At the same time, you were trying to see what additional information the deputy may have.

Deputy Walters was kind of young, a little shy and soft-spoken, not exactly the tough-as-nails lawman you might expect. So, during your questions, you turned on your feminine charms, hoping that it might elicit more information. You hated to be reduced to using such tactics, but you reminded yourself that lives were at stake.

As you spoke to Deputy Walters, you noticed that Sam kept glancing over. His frown seemed to deepen the longer you and the deputy were talking. You made a mental note to ask him about it later.

"Well, I think that about does it, Deputy Walters. You've given me a lot of good information for me to review with my fellow agents. Thank you," you remarked, putting a hand on his arm.

"Please, call me Frank. And, you're welcome. Anything to help out an agent from the bureau. 'Specially one as pretty as yourself," Frank gushed. "How much longer are you in town?" he asked.

You felt your cheeks grow warm at his compliment. "Not sure, I still have to compare notes with those two, then go from there. Why?" you inquired.

"I was kind of hoping that maybe you might want to go out for dinner with me tonight? It's kind of a small town, and most of the ladies my age are already married. Besides, it's not every day that I get to meet a gorgeous woman who's also an FBI agent," Deputy Walters remarked shyly.

"How nice of you to say, Deputy Walt--Frank," you replied softly. You looked over at Sam and Dean, who were both still discussing the case with the sheriff. "I think dinner tonight could be arranged," you agreed.

"Really? I-I mean, that's great! How about we meet back at the station at 7, and we can go to dinner from here?" he suggested.

"Sounds great, I'll have one of my partners drop me back here at 7," you said.

"Until then, sweet lady," Deputy Walters took your hand and brushed his lips across the back.

Sam's eyes grew wide as he witnessed this exchange from across the room. He abruptly excused himself from Dean's side and made his way to yours. Sam placed a hand on your back and quickly ushered you out to stand next to the Impala to wait for Dean.

Once you were outside, you whirled around and turned to face Sam. "What the hell was that, Winchester?" you demanded.

"Me? What the hell were you doing, flirting with the deputy?" he retorted.

You pinched the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger. "It's the same as we've always done. We've got a small-town deputy who seems to be a little lonely and we need info. So, like always, you and Dean leave me to turn on the flirt. Don't worry, I have every intention of sharing with you all the information that Frank gave me. Before I head out for my date with him tonight, that is," you finished.

Sam's eyes grew wide at your revelation of going out on a date with someone. "Frank? Who's Frank? And a date?!? You're not going out on any date tonight, not with him!" he exclaimed.

You took a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself before answering. "Deputy Frank Walters and I will be going out to dinner tonight in town. He will be waiting for me at the station at 7, and I have every intention of keeping that promise!" you shot back.

"This is not one of our 'friendly debates', this is about you and your safety. We still don't know who's behind all this demon activity. For all we know, it could be Barney Fife over there," Sam huffed.

A thought struck you about Sam's true reason for not wanting you to go out on a date with someone. "Are you jealous?" you inquired.

"What?" he asked.

"That's why you don't want me to go out with Barn--Frank tonight. You're jealous!" you smirked.

"Don't be ridiculous. He knows we're only in town for a short period of time. And it's you who can't see that he's only seizing this opportunity to use you. Just to 'scratch an itch', without any long-term commitment," Sam muttered.

The look of horror on your face instantly told Sam he had taken his debate one step too far. He reached out to you to apologize, but you backed away from him. "I can't believe you said that to me," you whispered.

"Wait, I'm--" Sam pleaded, his hands outstretched towards you.

"DON'T," you shouted. "Don't touch me, don't talk to me, just stay away from me right now," you growled.

Neither of you noticed that Dean had finished talking to the sheriff. As he walked over, he had been watching the entire heated exchange between the two of you. "What's going on here?" he asked.

"Nothing," you both answered in unison, your response a bit louder then Sam's was. You yanked open the rear passenger door and settled into your seat, arms folded across your chest.

Sam did the same, taking a bit more time to settle in as he reflected on the last bit of your conversation. Am I jealous, like she said? he thought to himself. Why should I care who she goes out with? It's not like we're a couple or anything, he silently reasoned. But I wish we were, Sam shook his head at that last thought.

Dean looked at the two of you before he left the station to head back to the motel. "Oh. Yeah. Obviously it's 'nothing'," he observed dryly.

The Impala was barely put in park at the motel before you were the first one out the door. Your keys at the ready, you were in your room with the door closed before Sam and Dean had even taken off their seat belts.

"Dude, I don't think I've ever seen her so pissed. At anybody, let alone you. What did you say to her?" Dean asked.

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath before explaining the previous conversation to his brother. "Whoa," Dean said when Sam finished. "You know she's not like that, Sam. She's not into one-night stands and she's not completely naïve about guys," Dean replied.

"Yeah, I know, and I didn't even mean it, either. But she's right, I am jealous of her going out with that deputy. I still may be right, too, though. We don't know who's behind all the demon activity around here. Deputy Dumbass being the cause of it isn't the most far-fetched idea, you know," Sam grumbled.

"Maybe. It could be the deputy. But all that aside, Sammy, you're gonna have to man up and tell her how you feel at some point," Dean replied as his phone buzzed in his pocket. When he unlocked his phone, he saw it was a text message from you.

You: Dean, will you please take me back to the station for my date? Need to be there by 7

DW: Yeah, I can do that. You ready yet?

You: Almost. Will text you when I am.

DW: Don't worry. Gonna be just you and me in the car, kid. Sending Sam to his room without supper lol.

You: Thanks, Dean.

"Is that her?" Sam asked. "Ready for her date?"

"She said she was 'almost ready'. I told her I was sending you to your room, so you gotta clear out, man. Don't worry, Sam. She's tough, she'll be all right," Dean tried to reassure his brother.

About ten minutes later, a buzz in Dean's pocket showed a text message that said you were ready to go. Dean relayed the message to Sam, who then got out of the car. He unlocked the motel room door and went inside, but stood waiting with it cracked open just a little. He wanted to see how you looked, all dressed up for your date. Also, to torture himself a bit more that it wasn't him you'd be out with tonight.

For your outfit, you were wearing your newest pair of faded blue jeans with a sparkly, navy blue top that had a boat-neck opening. You had on your black ankle boots with the wedge heel, and you had kept your jewelry and make-up simple. Sam drew in a deep breath at how beautiful you looked tonight and sent a silent prayer to anyone listening that you be kept safe.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dinner with Frank passed pleasantly enough, each of you asking questions to get to know each other better. You tried to keep your answers as vague as possible regarding your background and current occupation. You told him about your family and about losing Andrew in a car accident, instead of on a shifter hunt.

As you walked out to his car after dinner, Frank suggested that you go out for a couple of drinks and maybe some dancing. "I'm having a great time, and I don't exactly want it to end," he murmured as the two of you stood by his car.

He had his arms around you, and he was looking directly into your eyes as his hand caressed your cheek. It had been awhile since you'd had that kind of attention from any man. But with as shyly as he was acting earlier compared to now, alarm bells started going off in your head.

"Frank, it's getting late, I really should get going. Here, let me text my co-worker so that he can meet us back at the station," you said as you reached for your pocket.

"That sounds perfect, since we know those Winchesters will drop everything to come rescue you," Frank sneered.

"What are you talking about? My partners' names are--" you were cut off by his hand at your throat, lightly squeezing it.

"Save it!" he hissed. "Everyone knows you're working with those two flannel-jockeys," he retorted as his eyes flashed to all black.

"It's you," you whispered. "You're the one behind the demon attacks around here," you growled.

"That's right. Now call them and tell them to meet us here. If you don't, it's going to be a very unpleasant ending to our 'date'," he sneered.

You pulled out your phone to dial Dean's number. He picked up on the second ring. "Hey, sweetheart, is your date over with already?" he asked.

"H-hey, Dean. Yeah, I'm ready to come back. Dinner was nice, but it's getting late so we decided to call it a night," you replied shakily.

"Everything okay, honey?" Dean asked, his tone shifting to one of concern.

"Frank" gave your neck a little squeeze and a warning glare to remind you of the consequences should Dean not take the bait. "Y-yeah, I'm okay, just tired. Deputy kinda reminds me of that guy I went out with from Poughkeepsie," you chuckled nervously.

"Okay, we're on the way. Pick you back up at the station, right?" he asked.

"That's right," you choked out. "See you soon, Dean," you whispered. Hope so, you silently added as you disconnected the call.

"Now, we wait," the demon said smugly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean grimly looked at his phone after the call was disconnected. Sam could tell something had gone wrong, and he knew you were in trouble. "The demon--" Sam started.

"Yeah. Just like you said, Sam," Dean confirmed.

Sam closed his eyes and looked at the ceiling. Now was not the time for the I-told-you-so's. The main focus at hand was that they had to get you back safely. Dean grabbed his car keys and ran out the door, with Sam close behind.

Before getting behind the wheel, the boys checked the trunk to make sure they had a good supply of holy water and their angel or demon blades. When they were satisfied in their preparations, they got back in the car and headed over to the sheriff's station. On the way, Dean sent up a prayer to Castiel, just in case.

When they got near the station, they noted that there were five demon sentries keeping watch. Inside, the demon wearing Deputy Walters as a meatsuit had tied you to an office chair. He kept looking out the window for any signs of the Winchesters.

"You don't really think they're going to waltz in the front door, do you?" you scoffed.

The demon backhanded you across the face in response. "Keep quiet. They'll be here, it's just a matter of time. I hope they get here quick, because this meatsuit isn't cooperating too well. Keeps squirming, telling me not to hurt you," he mocked.

"Leave him alone!" you growled.

"You're not really in any kind of position to make demands, now are you?" he sneered.

"Listen to me Frank, I know you're in there, and you've got to fight! You can do this, just kick him out!" you pleaded. Another slap to the face, this one hard enough to bring tears to your eyes.

"Shut up! Or I will hurt him from the inside and it will be all your fault if he dies," the demon snapped. A noise outside caught his attention, and you prayed that it was your rescue party. You also hoped they would be able to make it into the building undetected.

"Looks like the party's about to get started," the demon cackled with glee. His grin faltered when he began to hear demon screams and see several orange flashes. You both knew that meant his demon army was being taken out, one by one.

"Noooooo!" he cried. With his master plan unraveled, the demon chose to smoke out rather than be sent back to Hell by Sam or Dean. Deputy Walters' body slumped to the floor, unconscious.

From your chair, you visibly relaxed when you saw that the demon was gone. Your head was down, and silent tears began streaming down your face. Sam and Dean walked in, guns drawn, but quickly put them away when they saw there was no longer a threat.

Dean tended to Deputy Walters, and for the most part, the deputy was okay. At some point, he was probably going to have to get 'the talk'. You knew he would need it to help him make sense about what happened.

Sam rushed over to your side and began to untie the ropes holding you to the chair. He helped you stand up once you were all untied. He gingerly massaged your wrists where the ropes had started to bite into them.

As you stood before him, you continued to cast your eyes downward, unable to look Sam in the eye. You felt a bit ashamed of how the two of you had fought before your date with the deputy. What you considered to be jealousy, was really only Sam's concern for your safety. Turns out he was correct in that the demon possessing Deputy Walters was the one you were supposed to be hunting.

"Hey," Sam said softly. "Come on, sweetheart, look at me. Please," he pleaded. You shook your head, but Sam hooked his finger under your chin and tilted it up so he could look into your eyes. His face fell at seeing the marks on your face from being slapped around by the demon. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry this happened," he whispered.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Sam, I do. I apologize for not listening to you that the deputy may be possessed and the cause of all of this. If I had, none of this would've happened. I'm so sorry for how I acted earlier," you remarked softly.

"What matters is that you and the deputy are safe, and the demon left the meatsuit behind," he reminded you. His fingertips gently brushed your cheek, then he slid his hand to cup the back of your head. Ever so slowly, Sam inched forward to close the gap between you until you felt his soft lips meshing with yours in a slow, tender kiss.

"Whoa," you whispered after you and Sam broke apart from the kiss. "So that's how best friends kiss after a near-death experience with a demon?" you asked.

Sam chuckled lightly. "I don't know about that, but it's my way of showing you that I consider you as more than my best friend. I-I'm in love with you. Your smile, your laugh, everything. I could lose myself for hours in your expressive eyes. I want to run my fingers through your soft, silky hair. And my lips are itching to not only kiss your lips, but any other part of your bare skin that presents itself," he finished softly.

"Oh. Well, you certainly have made a compelling case. Only this time, I'm in complete agreement with you. I'm in love with you, too, Sam. Your intelligence, your compassion, how I know I can tell you anything and you won't judge me. Your strong arms that I know will keep me safe and comfort me when I need it. And those lips of yours sure do talk a good game. I, for one, cannot wait to feel their magic wherever they may travel over me," you responded.

It took all of about three seconds before you dove towards each other and your lips crashed together in passion-filled kiss. Sam's tongue darted out, intending to break the seal on your mouth, and you gladly granted him access with a smile. As quickly as the kiss started, you slowed down and took your time to taste and explore each other's mouth. A tiny moan escaped your lips, which seemed to re-ignite the fire within Sam, causing him to pick up the pace again.

When the need to breathe became too great, you broke apart, both of you panting heavily. "Wow, Sam, you're amazing," you remarked.

"Baby, you're the amazing one. I wasn't sure how much longer I would've been able to keep my feelings for you hidden away," Sam replied. "I love you so much," he declared.

"You know, I think I fell in love with you right after we met, after that shifter case?" you asked, to which he nodded. "At first I thought it was some sort of 'hero worship', because you rescued me and took such good care of me afterwards. But I can't deny it anymore. I love you too, Sam," you replied.

From the doorway, you heard the sound of someone clearing his throat. You both looked over to see Dean standing there, that know-it-all smirk back on his face. "It's about time you two confessed your feelings. I didn't know how much longer I was going to be able to stand watching you dance around each other," he grinned.

On the way home, Sam sat in the backseat of the Impala with you. His body was wedged into a corner, his back to the passenger-side door. Then his left leg was stretched out across the length of the bench seat. You sat in front of Sam, your back against his chest and his arms around you.

With the purr of the engine rumbling down the highway, you relaxed against each other. Dean turned around at one point to see that you had fallen asleep in each others' arms. He was happy for you and his brother. "Nerd love," he remarked affectionately, shaking his head.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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