#beej writes

~~

When she was a kid and her mother first moved them back to the Klingon homeworld B’Elanna had buried herself in their house to avoid talking to the other children.

They thought she was too soft. Too human.

All she had was her mother and she couldn’t get her thoughts out to her without an argument.

But she still cared as she watched her mother cough out flowers one day.

“Did you eat flowers?” B’Elanna asked, confused. She replicated her mother some water and passed the cup to her.

Miral took it but set it down, too busy looking grimly at the petals around her.

“It’s called Hanahaki Disease.” Miral told her. “A Warrior’s disease.”

And that was all she would say.

The next day B’Elanna hacked into a library database to find out more about it.

Unrequited love.

Even in the cold medical books there was some wistfulness about it; talking about past Klingons who had braved out the disease and beaten it. Their redundant systems were made to take this the book had boasted. The only species who could survive such a thing that came from unrequited love.

There in the footnote of the book was a statistic about how many still died.

Another note mentioned a cure but in a disdainful way that only Klingons could. You could cut out, you could forget everything about that person, not just the feelings. You could be weak.

It took her weeks to bring it up as her mother suffered every night.

“Is it dad?” B’Elanna asked, bracing herself for another fight.

Her mother didn’t answer.

“Please.” B’Elanna’s voice broke. “Please get the surgery. Please forget him.”

There was nothing.

“I need you still.” B’Elanna tried, choking back her tears. Those weren’t the way to convince her mother.

The next day her mother returned and said nothing about her father, but never coughed again either.

The victory felt hollow.

~~

“…if you get to this log then I’m sorry. This must be confusing but let’s face it. There was nothing else to do but forget Seven.”

On the screen her past self talked in her personal log, the last one before the surgery.

She’d woken up in sickbay completely unaware why until the EMH had told her he’d cut the roots out of her and she’d recover fine.

He’d shown her it even, holding it up in a sealed container like a trophy of some sorts.

“I had to search in the darkest parts of my database for this, Klingons are surprisingly reluctant to talk about it.” He had said. “Are there any other ailments that belong to them I should know about?”

B’Elanna had been too shocked to answer, staring at the roots that still dripped with her own blood.

Her father was right.

She was her mother’s daughter after all.

~~

Despite that the disease was gone B’Elanna still though she could taste the blood in her mouth.

She woke up with the breath tight in her throat that morning, like her body was still used to coughing and seized up in preparation.

“You don’t look better.” Harry said, squinting at her from across the table. “I thought you got checked out by the Doc.”

Her log had stated she had told only the Doctor and Janeway. But it felt odd she hadn’t told Harry or Chakotay.

Of course in her position she probably wouldn’t have; both of them would have dragged her to talk to Seven, to do anything else but make a rash decision.

“Still recovering.” B’Elanna waved off his concern. “Just don’t expect me on away missions any time soon.”

She still had to catch up with notes after all least she forget something and slip up.

Harry frowned at her.

Whatever he was about to say next was cut off when a shadow fell over the table. They both looked up to see Seven standing there.

“Lieutenant Torres. Ensign Kim.” Seven greeted. “I see Lieutenant Paris is late once again.”

“You know how it is, pull up a chair Seven.” Harry nodded his head to the seat next to B’Elanna.

Seven’s lips pursed and B’Elanna tried not to snort in amusement.

“Come on Seven it’s not that complicated, he means join us.” The words fell easily from B’Elanna’s lips without thought.

“I am not unfamiliar with the meaning.” Seven replied, taking the seat next to B’Elanna. “I was merely speculating if I was as welcome here as I was in engineering.”

B’Elanna winced when Harry’s eyes widened and he looked at her.

“I was just having a bad day yesterday.” B’Elanna said quickly, taking a sip of her coffee to hide her embarrassment. “And also there’s nothing wrong with my proposal.”

“While sound in it’s logic it could be improved upon.” Seven looked uncomfortable, her hands gripping the side of the chair like she wasn’t sure what to do with them.

A flash of anger came and went. She took a breath that was too sharp against her still healing lungs and started coughing at the sensation.

“You do not appear to be well.” Seven said, her hands which a second ago were so glued to the chairs side were now pressed against B’Elanna’s back and shoulder, holding her up.

“She’s not as bad as she seems.” The personal log in her mind offered. “Could use some more tact but I suppose I’m the last one who can comment on that.”

That log was a year after Seven had come on board.

Had she started falling for her then?

B’Elanna looked at Seven from the corner of her eye, trying to see what it was that had driven her past self to be so in love with this woman.

Cool blue eyes met her own but B’Elanna couldn’t get any reading of emotion from them.

The coffee tasted like blood when she went for a sip again.

“Like I told Harry.” B’Elanna’s lips felt numb as she talked. “I’m still recovering.”

She was always making up for her own mistakes.

~~

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you woke up but the Vidians refused to meet with anyone but me.” Janeway passed her a cup of tea, herbal in nature.

The smell of the flowers made B’Elanna feel sick.

“I understand Captain and really, I’m fine.” She set the tea down and refused to look at it.

Janeway hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing but B’Elanna knew her well enough to know she was concerned.

“And how are things with Seven?”

B’Elanna froze.

“I didn’t think I told you who the feelings were for.” B’Elanna said carefully.

“No.” Janeway replied easily. “You didn’t.”

She reached over to rest a hand on B’Elanna’s arm and squeezed comfortingly. B’Elanna had the strangest desire to start crying.

“But I’m not blind, B’Elanna.” Janeway’s voice was soft, easing the blow. “And I’m here if you need to talk, like I told you before.”

“Thank you Captain.” B’Elanna swallowed hard, blinking fast to keep the tears out.

“Take all the time you need.”

Janeway was nothing like her mother when she got down to it.

B’Elanna thought of Miral anyway.

~~

When she had started at the Academy there were still only a few Klingons around.

B’Elanna had chose not to talk to them.

“You don’t want to see them at all?” Maxwell asked her, a padd propped in his lap for studying. “C’mon BLT, not even a little?”

The nickname gave her a rush of affection like it did every time.

“I’ll pass.” B’Elanna said. “I’ve had more than enough of my share of Klingons.”

Maxwell didn’t need to know that included every time she looked in the mirror.

He didn’t need to know they wouldn’t accept her anyway; there wasn’t a point to trying.

“Maybe you should get out of the Alpha Quadrant then.” Maxwell joked.

“If only to get rid of you.” B’Elanna said back, deadpan but with a smile.

He just didn’t get it.

No one could.

~~

Seven was annoyingly tall.

It was one of the things that struck B’Elanna when she came into engineering again with another padd for B’Elanna to go over.

“I’m not taking the warp drive offline for your experiment Seven.” B’Elanna groaned, looking over the padd.

Seven frowned at her.

“You have before.”

That’s because past me was stupidly in love with you, B’Elanna thought but didn’t say.

“That was then, this is now.” B’Elanna said instead.

She can breathe easier each day, her lungs returning to how they were before all this began. Idly she wondered what type of flower it was that Seven had her choking on. The doctor had removed the petals and thrown them out, all she had seen was the roots and her logs don’t provide any reference.

“I fail to see what has changed.” Seven stated.

“You failed to see a lot.” B’Elanna muttered, her desire to shoot back faster than her ability to stop herself.

“To what are you referring?” Seven is looking at her with that unreadable face again. She’s as smooth as the rocks on Qo’nos.

Once as a child B’Elanna fell onto them off a cliffside.

The Klingon homeworld didn’t have many hospitable places and the landscape was no exception.

She’d broken her arm that way and walked home while stubbornly fighting tears least someone in the street notice and scoff at her lack of resilience.

Now B’Elanna had fallen a different way and this time broke her heart.

“Go away Seven, I have work to do.” B’Elanna turned away from her, ignoring the question.

For a second she though Seven would push the issue and then she heard the telltale footsteps of Seven’s boots as she walked out of engineering.

Out of B’Elanna’s life once again.

~~

“You’ve been different.” Chakotay mentioned later when B’Elanna sat down for their weekly dinner. While they were both on alpha shift Chakotay’s responsibility as second in command meant he often worked later.

Since the mission home had began they’d agreed to at least having a weekly dinner to catch up on everything.

Seska had once been invited to it to.

The less B’Elanna thought about her the better.

“How so?” B’Elanna asked, her voice controlled in a way she wished she could always do.

“Just…something different.” Chakotay rested his chin on his hand, elbow propped on the table and squinted at her like he could discern what it was.

“Fine you caught me.” B’Elanna said drily, “Tom lost a bet and had to give me all his replicator rations. It’s amazing what a week without eating spaghetti made out of hair will do to you.” She finished with a smirk.

That part was at least true. Tom had foolishly bet that he’d win the ping pong tournament.

Chakotay huffed and rolled his eyes. “Well can’t say I don’t blame you for feeling better then. That cough you had was worrying.”

“I’m fine Chakotay.” B’Elanna assured him. “Full bill of clean health from the Doc and everything.”

Chakotay hummed. “And the arguments in engineering with Seven?”

“We always argue.” B’Elanna offered but it felt faint.

“I heard you the other day.” Chakotay shot down any hope she had of getting out of the conversation. “It didn’t sound like your usual argument. You sounded out for blood.”

Why shouldn’t she. Hadn’t Seven been the one to make her bleed first?

“I don’t see why I have to accommodate everything for her.”

“B’Elanna.”

“Look, just-” She stopped, trying to think how to end this. “I’m just working through something and don’t need Seven looking down over my shoulder all the time.”

“I thought the two of you were getting closer.” Chakotay leaned back in his chair. “It certainly seemed that way.” There was a glint in his eyes that hinted to more and B’Elanna had a sinking feeling that as with Janeway she’d been found out.

“Maybe you just read the situation wrong.” B’Elanna retorted. “It happens.”

Like with her thinking someone could love her.

The gap in her memory and the pain that had existed in her lungs was proof enough. The disease mocked her. Just another Klingon legacy she didn’t want.

Chakotay sighed and B’Elanna relaxed. She knew that sigh, that meant he’d let it go for now at least.

“Maybe you should try opening up to her again.” Chakotay said, his final say on the matter for the time being.

“I’ll try.” B’Elanna promised falsely.

She’d never do that again.

~~

She’d also never been good at letting things go.

Why, she wondered, why Seven. What was it about her?

Was it how she kept up with B’Elanna in banter and intelligence? Was it the way B’Elanna kept wanting to see Seven unravel from her kept up appearance, just a little? Was it the moments when the ship was in danger and B’Elanna could relax just by having Seven near her, ready to go with any plan provided?

So far no else aside from Chakotay seemed to notice that B’Elanna’s words to Seven had more bite.

“Don’t you have a Unimatrix to do back to?” B’Elanna snapped one day.

Seven did that thing she hated, where she clasped her hands behind her back and stood just a little bit taller than usual over B’Elanna. “I do not seek to return to my old Unimatrix.”

Why, why, why?

“I don’t see why not, you’ve made it clear you don’t enjoy it here.”

“On the contrary, I am perfectly fine right where I am.” Seven said, like B’Elanna’s words were nothing.

“Because Voyager is the only one that will take you?” B’Elanna shot back.

“You misunderstand, I was referring to the current location at this time. But yes,” Seven paused and there it was. The crack in her armor. “Voyager is the only one that will accept me as an ex-Borg. You yourself once stated that.”

“I did?” B’Elanna asked without meaning to, too struck by Seven looking hurt.

It looked wrong, it felt wrong. It wasn’t as vindicating as she wanted it to be.

“I believe as you phrased it as we were ‘outsiders together’.” There was another pause. “But that was a joke.”

Then she turned and walked out of engineering and B’Elanna pretended she couldn’t see the tension in Seven’s shoulder as she held on to her perfect image.

Oh, she thought.

She’d been wrong.

Someone was like her after all.

~~

The air in the shuttle was humid and sweat dripped down B’Elanna forehead as she tightened the bolt of the panel.

“Any luck?” She called out to the front of the shuttle where Seven was attempted to restart the controls.

“While luck has nothing to do with this situation I have not been able to repair the controls. The code appears to be stuck in a loop.”

B’Elanna cursed in Klingon.

“I do not believe that sleeping with a targ will help either.” Seven said drily.

B’Elanna couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“Some days I think a targ running wild in engineering couldn’t do any worse than whatever the Delta Quadrant has for store for us that day.” B’Elanna sighed and leaned back to rest against the opposite side of the shuttle wall.

“Perhaps that is just our luck.”

Whether she meant to or not Seven was funny in a way that made B’Elanna laugh.

Was that why she fell in love?

Sometimes she wished she still had the disease. At least then she’d have her answers and not be left with this itch in the back of her mind when Seven was around.

It was a problem B’Elanna desperately wanted an answer to.

“Take a break Seven.” B’Elanna said, shutting her eyes and tilting her head back. “Just a little while and then we can switch and look at our problems with fresh eyes.”

“That sounds like an ingredient Neelix would procure.” There was noise as Seven took a seat across from her but B’Elanna didn’t open her eyes.

She made a face. “If Neelix ever adds eyes to dishes remind me to steal Tom and Harry’s replicator rations.”

“You may have mine.”

B’Elanna cracked an eye open. “You’d eat that?”

“No.” Seven said. “I’d merely request the use of the kitchen to make something else.”

“That’s just because Neelix is a pushover for your big blue eyes.” B’Elanna snorted.

“My eyes are not significantly larger than anyone else’s onboard.”

“Can we just stop talking about eyes.” B’Elanna pleaded, finally looking at Seven properly.

Her hair was pulled out of her usual style, the crash disheveled her in a way B’Elanna hadn’t seen before.

Or maybe she had and just couldn’t remember.

It’d been weeks since her mouth had tasted like blood. Now all that was left was the lingering taste of decay.

Now there was dust she could taste from the crash but it felt distant in the face of Seven looking open and vulnerable in a way that was new to her. It wasn’t a bad look, just a bad circumstance. For a split second B’Elanna was tempted to brush her thumb over Seven’s cheek to wipe away the blood.

“You are staring.” Seven stated, looking back at her.

B’Elanna shut her eyes again.

The silence fell around them.

~~

Maybe, B’Elanna thinks as she looks at Seven, the flowers were yellow carnations.

Rejection.

Or cyclamen for resignation.

Daises for never telling or belledonnas for silence.

Perhaps they were delphiniums to match Seven’s eyes or borages to match her bluntness.

In the end though B’Elanna thinks they were aloes.

Tough to bloom, tough to grow.

Full of grief.

Seven doesn’t look at her at all while she works.

~~

“So are we going to talk about it.” Harry asked as he deposited her back in her room.

She’d been cleared by the EMH to leave but he’d asked Harry to keep an eye on his ‘unruly’ patient for a few hours.

“The crash? It was a malfunction in the engine that-” B’Elanna stopped at the look Harry gave her. “I don’t know what else you mean.”

“I mean you and Seven.” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “B’Elanna we’ve had this talk before.”

Of course they had.

“I know you hate her but the tension between you two is driving me insane.”

“I don’t hate her.” B’Elanna said.

Wouldn’t life be easier if she did.

“I just…”

Harry raised an eyebrow and B’Elanna felt her hands shake.

“B’Elanna?” He asked and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“I think I made a mistake.” B’Elanna admitted softly.

“What?” Harry sounded confused but she didn’t look up at him. “You just said it was a malfunction with the engines.”

“Not that.” She laughed but it was a hollow noise. “I should have just let it go.”

“B’Elanna you’re not making sense, should we go back to the Doctor?” His hand tightened on her shoulder, worry lining his tone.

“You ever fall in love with someone you shouldn’t have Harry?” B’Elanna asked, hoping her nonchalant tone could throw him off in any way.

When he was too quiet she finally glanced up.

“Tell me what’s going on.” Harry requested, his voice soft and eyes full of pity.

“Why should I?” B’Elanna tried to dig her heels in, desperately avoiding the conversation. Her lack of filter had gotten the better of her again.

“Because I think if you don’t it’s going to eat you alive.”

He didn’t know how true that was.

But maybe he could.

~~

"It's not the flowers." B’Elanna said in her personal log, her breathing labored and harsh. "It's the stems." B’Elanna had never seen herself look so disappointed. Look so defeated. Some Klingon she made. "The Doctor isn't bad at treating me per say but it's times like these I miss Kes. I spent too long looking up flower meanings, I bet she would have helped." B'Elanna's shoulders fell on the screen. "I'll miss Seven, even if I can't remember her." Her lips twitch in a pale imitation of a smile. "Maybe I'll even still love her." You did this to me, B’Elanna thinks looking at her reflection on the screen. She's suffering in the consequences and can't tell if that hurts worse. Idly she wonders what it would have been like to try to outlive it, to have kept the love she had for Seven deep in her veins, to let the roots destroy her and come back even stronger. Except she wasn't sure she could. At least it made her feel.

~~

“First off you’re an idiot for not telling me.” Harry scolded when she finally spilled the whole story. “Second of all…were you sure?”

“First of all,” B’Elanna shot back, “Respect your elders.” She ignored Harry’s squawk of disbelief at that. “Second of all, “She continued in the same vein as him, “You really think Seven could have been in love with me. Seven.”

“Well maybe you could have asked first!”

B’Elanna shot to her feet and began pacing. “Oh this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you, Starfleet. You think talking it out could have fixed this? There is no fixing this. Cutting it out hasn’t even worked.”

Harry paled.

“Do…do you have the disease again.”

“No.” B’Elanna said, stopping where she was.

Harry narrowed his eyes. “But you think you might.” He realized it slowly. “You think you might fall in love with Seven again.”

Her cheeks felt hot.

“It’s just…she’s just…I feel this need Harry. To figure her out. To have her see me.”

“See you?” Harry tilted his head, frowning.

Her heart panged in response. While she did love her friend once again he didn’t get it. He didn’t know what it was like to beg the galaxy to see you for what and who you were and get nothing back time and time again.

Or, her eyes flickered to the pips on his collar, perhaps he did just in a different way than herself.

“You know how you want and deserve that promotion?” B’Elanna asked, sitting back down next to Harry and pressing her shoulder against his. “I feel that way with Seven. And I’ve been going through my logs and I can’t see the moment it changed for me where I wanted that but I understand what my self wanted.”

They were silent, taking comfort in each other for the moment.

“You probably don’t remember this and maybe your logs didn’t say,” Harry began finally, “But when you and Tom didn’t work out you started spending more time with Seven.”

Her logs hadn’t mentioned it and B’Elanna turned to look at him. “Oh?”

“I asked you about it once and you told me something about how Seven wasn’t that bad.”

B’Elanna’s lips twitched. “High praise.”

“From you? Maybe.” Harry teased. “But I thought it was nice, you and Seven work so well together.”

“In our jobs, sure. In anything else…” B’Elanna trailed off with a huff. “I wasn’t cut out for this Harry. I can barely manage a friendship.”

She could barely manage her family, even when now it was just her.

“You’re better than you think.” Harry said and opened his mouth to continue but her door suddenly chimed.

B’Elanna groaned, “Doctor if that’s you then I swear I’m resting and-”

The door opened to show Seven.

“And that’s my cue to leave.” Harry stood up. “Think about what I said.” He told B’Elanna as he rushed past Seven with an awkward grin plastered on his face.

“You hardly said anything!” B’Elanna called out to him.

Coward, she thought sourly.

“Ensign Kim appears to be in a hurry.” Seven commented idly, still standing in the doorway.

B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “Come in Seven. Did you need something?”

Seven walked forward, the door whooshing shut behind her, and cleared her throat. “I came to see how you were feeling.”

“Good as new.” B’Elanna quipped, her smile as fake as Harry’s was a moment ago.

Seven stood there, unmoving.

“Seven?” B’Elanna asked, standing up with a flash of worry. “Are you okay?”

“I am undamaged.” Seven replied. “Our shuttle trip has left me no more worse for wear. I…apologize for not coming to see you sooner, I had to assure Icheb and Naomi I was intact.”

It was almost funny how matter of fact Seven said it, like it wasn’t proof of how far she had come. Like it wasn’t a show of how soft she could be. All too easily B’Elanna could remember walking into the mess hall to see Seven diligently playing kadis-kot with Naomi with the same intensity that she applied to everything else important to her.

There was an ache in her chest at the knowledge that that had never applied to B’Elanna.

Would never apply to B’Elanna.

“You didn’t have to stop by Seven.” B’Elanna said, turning away from Seven, trying to distance herself yet again.

“On the contrary.” Seven tucker her hands behind her back. “I have determined why you have been so awkward with me the last few months.”

B’Elanna raised an eyebrow. “I’m the awkward one?” She couldn’t help but reply sarcastically.

“You had the Klingon disease known as Hanahaki and your feelings were towards me.” Seven said, cutting off all thought to B’Elanna and leaving only panic.

How would her past self feel knowing Seven had robbed her of her breath yet again in a completely different way.

B’Elanna swallowed, waiting for Seven to say more but she just looked at B’Elanna without a word.

“And?” B’Elanna finally said, curling her hands into fists at her side so she didn’t feel the desire to claw at herself. The air prickled against her skin, too hot and cold all at once and B’Elanna for the first time missed the sharp air of Qo’nos because at least breathing that in would mean she wasn’t here in this conversation.

“I am-” Seven began and B’Elanna felt the calm recede all at once.

“Don’t.” She cut Seven off. “We’re fine now. It happened. I dealt with it.” She tilted her head up at Seven, stubbornly daring her to say anything.

The problem was Seven wasn’t one to back off and Seven was always one to challenge her.

It was something she liked about her.

“I see.” Seven said, meeting her gaze cooly. “Should it begin again I request to know.”

“What?” B’Elanna asked taken aback. “Why?”

“There are several Borg technologies designed to have helped Klingons when we discovered the disease upon assimilation. I can assist.”

The worst part was B’Elanna knew she meant that genuinely.

It was meant as sincere help.

Seven cared in her own way. Just not the way B’Elanna wanted her to.

She felt cold in both her embarrassment and anger, a child all over again with no words she could say to fix this situation.

“Great.” B’Elanna said, carefully devoid of emotion. “Thanks Seven, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Seven nodded at her and turned to walk out, leaving B’Elanna alone in a room that felt too dark for the brightly fluorescent lights that shone down on her.

Her throat itched painfully and her eyes watered as she suddenly coughed. The relentlessness of it forced her to bend down, gasping for air without mercy.

Lamprocapnos.

The pink heart shaped petals mocked her, covered in blood and spit and in her in hand.

Rejected love.

B’Elanna shut her eyes, leaning against the closest wall and slowly sliding down it. The petal fell from her hand and she raised her palms to press against her eyes, sending stars skittering across her vision.

“Computer,” She started with a shaky voice. “Start personal log.”

“Recording.” The computer helpfully responded.

“If you’re seeing this you made the mistake again,” B’Elanna huffed a laugh, broken and tired as it was. “You have to stop.” To what she didn’t say.

She’d figure it out.

Survive again.

And again.

~~

Though the station was comprised of four different duty shifts mornings at Quark’s were always full.

“Hey Ezri,” Leeta greeted her with a grin, nodding her head over to the corner where Worf was sitting, “He’s been nursing that prune juice for a while.” Leeta lowered her voice in a conspiratory whisper.

Which meant that Worf had been awake a lot longer than necessary. She shot Leeta an appreciative smile and made her way over to Worf, taking the seat across from him.

“Busy night?” She asked, looking for an opening. Experience as Jadzia had taught her the best way to get Worf to talk was to cut right to the chase though she had enjoyed teasing it out of Worf at times.

Worf huffed, “A crew of Bolians arrived last night. They were unscheduled.”

“Is it anything bad?” Ezri glanced around, trying to discern if anything was amiss.

“They were...loud.”

She tried not to snicker at Worf’s grumpiness but it wasn’t easy. Luckily Leeta arrived to pull her attention away.

“So what’ll you have, Ezri?”

Gagh, Meshta gagh which was Curzon’s favourite –

Andevian eggs, a taste Lela claimed was acquired –

Something new, something unknown, Torias never ate the same thing twice –

“Just the usual breakfast of the day shift.” Ezri hedged her bets on her stomach; figuring pancakes would go down the easiest.

“Oh that’s Rom’s favourite now, you know he tried it after he got promoted, he actually gets Quark to still add some beetles in it.” Leeta laughed to herself at the memory. “Raktajino with it?”

Pancakes suddenly didn’t sound quite as appetizing but Ezri forced a smile and nodded.

If Jadzia had heard that would she have tried to add Gagh pancakes?

She was tempted to ask Worf but their relationship was still rocky and asking about her past life and his ex-wife like that felt like asking for another fight.

“You do not look well.” Worf noted as Leeta walked away. “You should visit Doctor Bashir.”

“I might.” Ezri said, mostly so Worf didn’t go all mother hen on her. He’d deny it but he really did look out for his friends. At least he counted her as one now.

Leeta came by with her drink and set it in front of Ezri who took a sip and bit down her sigh.

It wasn’t a raktajino day after all.

~~

Worf may not have known it but Ezri had avoided the infirmary for as much as she could.

The Shrine may have been where Jadzia got mortally wounded.

The infirmary was where she actually died.

Maybe this was why the symbiont commission frowned on hosts interacting with places they’d lived before in past lives. They hadn’t really given Ezri much help or ideas, just told her she’d have to sort through the memories herself. Try to find common ground with her past hosts.

Unfortunately she was feeling space sick again and needed some help.

“This is the second time this week.” Julian said, hovering over her with a hypospray.

“I thought I was getting better.” Ezri’s smile was weak and her stomach roiled. The pancakes were an awful idea.

“Well, I can give you a higher dose to help you over the next few days. You might want to look into meditation techniques to help deal with this.”

“Like standing on my head?” Ezri deadpanned, thinking of Emony’s hobby.

“Maybe not quite that,” Julian replied, bemused. “I’ll look up some holodeck programs to help with that. I recommend you check them out.” He had switched back to his doctor mode. “If you need someone to go with you to them let me know.” He offered.

“I’ll be fine.” Ezri assured him though it felt like a lie. “Has the Chief fixed the holosuite glitches yet?” She asked to change the subject. “You know Torias would have loved holodecks.” She mused, letting her thoughts run around again, “It sure would have helped him to be able to run simulations on shuttles instead of just reprogramming it and hoping it would work I mean, sure would have made him less likely to crash a shuttle.” She laughed a little at the idea, “Of course then he would have lived longer and I might not be Dax.”

She fell silent at the idea, her skin itching like it had when she’d first gotten the symbiont and felt an uncomfortable sensation of not belonging.

“We’re all glad you’re here.” Julian said after the silence went on too long, making it awkward and unbearable.

Ezri muttered something about needing to get to her first appointment and dashed out of the room, trying to leave the thoughts there along with it.

~~

Garak was as verbose and complicated as ever, winding his words with obfuscation to purposely mislay her.

It gave her a headache on top of feeling space sick but she listened as best as she could to what wasn’t being said.

They really needed another session on the holosuite so after he left her office with one cutting remark on the drabness of a Starfleet uniform Ezri went to hunt down Miles to see the progress on the holosuite repairs.

“It’s not ready.” Miles said gruffly without preamble when he saw her.

“Anything I can do to help?” Ezri asked, locking her hands behind her back.

I picked it up from Jadzia, she reminded herself unnecessarily, who picked it up from Lela.

Miles glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, no doubt trying to find a way to let her down without being needlessly mean spirited about it. He’d been surprisingly caring since the situation where he’d been stuck at her childhood home with her.

“It’s okay.” Ezri waved off whatever remark was coming, “I’m sure Nog can help you out after our session today.”

Miles grunted his agreement and turned back to the panel he had open.

Ezri floundered a bit, her natural inclination to ramble these days when things got too quiet weighed on her.

“You all right?” Miles broke the quiet and squinted up at her from where he was crouched.

“Just space sick.” Ezri said, latching onto that excuse though she was feeling better since visiting Julian.

“Problem with your quarters dampners?” Miles frowned at the thought and Ezri could see him already adding it to his mental list of things wrong with the station.

“Nope.” She replied quickly, seeing the relief on his face. “I don’t know what’s causing it. Could be all in my head.” Even as she said it she rested a hand on her stomach, right at the pouch where the symbiont was.

“Sounds like you need an appointment with our resident counselor.” Miles quirked his lips in amusement, glancing back at her.

“Oh I think I talk to myself enough.” Ezri tried to return the smile but she could tell it didn’t reach her eyes. “I should go, I need to meet Nog now. I’ll send him to you when I’m done.” She promised and fled before Miles could comment on any of her strange statements.

Or maybe they weren’t strange anymore. Maybe they were just who she was now.

That headache was coming back.

~~

Kira stopped at her office just as Nog was leaving, giving him a quick nod in greeting before stopping before Ezri’s desk. “Lunch?”

It wasn’t unusual for them to meet for lunch but typically Kira didn’t come to find her and Ezri eyed her suspiciously. “Have you been talking to Julian and Miles?”

“They might have said something.” Kira admitted sheepishly but kept meeting her eyes. “Still offering.”

Ezri smiled weakly in return. “Sounds great!” She said with an enthusiasm she didn’t really feel.

Forced socialization, Tobin’s least favourite thing, somewhere in the back of her head she could hear his sulk.

“Think the replicator can make nolaberries?” Ezri asked as she and Kira began the walk down to the promenade.

Kira shot her a confused look, “Nolaberries? I’m not even sure I’ve heard of them.”

“Tobin was allergic, I just had a craving.” Ezri shrugged, internally feeling a little vindictive. And then immediately guilty.

Other Joined Trill didn’t fight with their past lives so much, other Joined Trill handled this better, Ezri had just been there at the wrong place wrong time wrong person.

Kira raised an eyebrow at her in silence, questioning but allowing Ezri to decide what to say and Ezri felt more gracious to her than ever.

“You know me and my cravings.” It came out without her thinking, immediately trying to undo what she had just said. Always trying to undo what she’d done; stepping back in her past but never able to fully shake it off.

Now it lived under her skin, permanently etched in her brain, behind her eyes when she closed them and-

Kira’s hand dropped to her shoulder, squeezing it lightly and grounding Ezri back in the moment.

“How about I pick the meal today?” Kira asked and while there was nothing in her tone that brokered concern Ezri could see it in her eyes.

“Yes.” Ezri agreed quickly. “Please. Just-”

“Not gagh,” Kira cut her off with a laugh, her hand falling from Ezri’s shoulder and the concern that had haunted her a moment ago gone. “Believe me if I ever picked that you can just assume possession.”

Ezri snorted in her own amusement. “I think it’s safe to assume the same of me.”

Possessed by Jadzia or Curzon maybe.

She rubbed at her head, the pounding back with a vengeance she didn’t care for. When she caught Kira frowning from the corner of her eye she quickly dropped her hand and flashed a smile.

“You know it’s occurred to me I can’t ever remember you cooking.” Ezri said, struggling to move their conversation along.

“That’s because you don’t want me to.” Kira grumbled.

“Don’t let Benjamin hear that, he’ll give you lessons.”

“Oh he’s tried.” Kira replied and then was off on the disastrous time she’d had.

She let the words wash over her, lost in a story that wasn’t hers.

~~

Odo was frowning when Ezri walked past his office on the way to hers; though that was his default face so it was hard to tell which frown that meant.

“All good?” Ezri asked, slipping into Odo’s office.

Odo jumped slightly, a sign he must have been deeply in thought. “Ezri.” He greeted, his voice as gravely as ever. “Something I can do for you?”

“For me? No, no, I’m good. Well. Minus the space sickness, I just can’t shake it.” Ezri joked. “But I was asking about you.”

“Is this a doctor’s visit then?” Odo asked drily.

“A friend visit.” Ezri corrected and took the seat across from him. “Unless you want to book a counselling session instead…”

Odo let a hrrmph, “I’ll pass.” He paused. “But thank you.”

“Any time.” Ezri promised. “You know you sometimes remind me of Torias which is silly because you embodied Curzon that one time but like, he was proud, wouldn’t admit he needed help ever which uh.”

“Got him killed?” Odo looked unimpressed.

Ezri winced. “I don’t think you’re that bad.”

“I should hope not.” He must have decided to take pity on her because he continued. “It’s just about one of the ships docked here. I’m worried one of the passengers might be a changeling.” His frown deepened as he admitted it.

“Oh.” Ezri said, surprised he’d even tell her. She looked him over with a more critical eye, taking in the hunched shoulders and tightness around his mouth. For all Odo said he couldn’t get the shape of a human right he sure had mastered the emotions of it.

“Worried you’ll have to lock up someone of your own kind?” Ezri asked as kindly as she could.

“No.” Odo shot down. “If they’re here to cause trouble they deserve it.”

“And if they’re not?”

Odo was quiet. There was always a chance the station was just a waypoint for the changeling before they left for somewhere worse like Klingon or Federation space.

“What’s it like?” Odo asked, jolting her from her thoughts.

“What?”

“Never being alone?” Odo’s attempt at a smile fell weak.

“Honestly?” Ezri leaned back, her own smile faltering. “Crowded.”

And somehow damningly alone all at once.

“I think I’d like to know that experience again. The Great Link…it felt like that, knowing everyone at all times…” Odo’s voice trailed off in a longing.

“So long as you remember you’re still you in there. It’s easy to get lost, trust me.”

“I know.” Odo agreed, a haunted look in his own eyes. Then he straightened up. “I should get back to my investigation.”

She knew a dismissal when she heard it and stood up. “Let me know if you need help.”

“Of course.” Odo inclined his head.

She turned to leave.

“And Ezri?”

She looked back.

“I’m here as well. If you need to…talk.” The last word made him wince a little and Ezri tried not to laugh at how similar he looked like to Garak at that.

“Thanks Odo,” She said, infinitely grateful.

She walked away, her head quiet for the first time that day.

~~

The silence didn’t last long.

It wasn’t Jake’s fault of course, he’d burst into her office just as she was finishing her shift for the day and thrown himself dramatically onto the chair across from her.

“I’m having a writers block.” He declared, groaning and rubbing at his face.

“Sounds serious.” Ezri said, as deadpan as she could and trying not to laugh at Jake.

He scowled. “It is!”

“All right.” She held her hands up in surrender and set down the padd she was holding. “Let’s talk about it then. What are you stuck on?”

Jake leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. Ezri couldn’t help but be struck by the similarities to Benjamin at his age in that moment.

Brash, sure of himself, still needing guidance-

No he was a friend, an equal on the same ground, the greatest person ever met in eight lifetimes-

Nine. She thought. I’m the ninth lifetime.

Swallowing back the memories that threatened to pull her under she focused on Jake as he began to talk.

“It’s the plot. It needs more…” Jake grasped at the air with his hands. “Something.”

“Descriptive.” Ezri couldn’t help but tease. “I’ve always thought things need more something.”

Jake shot her an annoyed look. “I knew I should have gone to Nog.”

“He’d just get you drunk.”

“Exactly.” Jake’s head lolled back and he sighed like the world weighed on him and no one truly understood it; a young man but he hadn’t completely shaken off the teenage years.

In a way she was glad to see it given he’d been around for the occupation and certainly had his share of trauma over the past year.

It struck her then that despite having watched Jake grow up as Curzon and Jadzia that as Ezri she was only a year older than him.

“Hey,” Ezri said to get his attention, swallowing down her own wallowing. “Tell me about the world and characters. Maybe I was never a writer in a past life but I had my fair share of adventures.”

Jake launched into his latest idea, a novel involving a mystery on old earth; long before current investigative techniques.

Ezri tapped a finger on her desk, considering the plot. “I know when Joran was on the run he was caught because of his own ego. He believed he couldn’t be and believed he was so in the right it was his own destiny to outsmart everyone.”

She made a face, remembering her own taunting’s from Joran when she’d called him forth. “The thing about murders is no matter how smart they are or seem they’re still prone to the same mistakes everyone makes.”

Jake was tapping on his padd excitedly. “I knew you were the person to come to, thanks Ezri.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled.

Ezri repressed the shudder that threatened to run through her at living more in Joran’s memories.

“Any time. Now, let’s talk about motivations…”

~~

The station rocked around her, she couldn’t feel it because of the dampeners but she knew it in her head. All the ships attached to dock swayed with it, back and forth in space, going nowhere but constantly moving.

Leonard McCoy had once told Emony a story about a ship. The name escaped Ezri’s memory but she recalled that it was all philosophical. If the ship was changed out with all new wood was it even the old ship at all? Or if that old wood was used to build a ship was it then the original ship?

McCoy had called it all hogswash.

Ezri was beginning to feel like gaining a symbiont was a little bit like that. If the symbiont was removed somehow and she was Ezri Tigan again would some part of her always be in the Dax symbiont, living on for as long as it did, beyond just the memories?

Would she ever forget what had been given to her and be herself again?

“You’re looking a little green.” Quark commented as he wiped a glass across the bar from her. “Didn’t think Trills got that colour, thought that was more Vulcans.”

There was some undertone of concern Ezri could hear in his voice that made her smile.

“Just ship sick.”

“Don’t you mean space sick?”

Ezri shrugged and stared back down at her drink. Romulan ale.

Torias liked it. Ezri didn’t.

“Not to your taste?” Quark clicked his tongue and leaned over the bar. “I’m sure I’ve got something that you’ll like. It might cost a few latinum but I’ll give you a discount, just don’t tell the others.”

Ezri bit her lip so she didn’t laugh. “Somehow I think I’d still end up losing in that deal.”

Quark drew back, a hand to his chest, “Ezri I would never-”

“You still owe Jadzia ten slips of latinum from Tongo.”

“Forget that I owe my dear dear friends. Let me get you something else. On the house. Any requests?” Quark asked, merciful enough to ignore her slip in saying Jadzia’s name instead of herself.

Ezri sighed down at the glass in front of her and pushed it towards Quark.

“Surprise me.”

It wouldn’t matter anyway.

Everything had been tried before by someone else; a lingering taste of sweetness for something she never even knew.

~~

“I hear you’ve been moping around.” Benjamin’s voice rang clear above her and Ezri yelped at the sudden intrusion.

She nearly kicked him the face as she fell from where she’d been balanced against the wall, once again trying Emory’s way of fixing feeling how out of whack she was.

“Didn’t I teach you to knock?” Ezri grumbled at him, scowling at him from the floor.

“Actually you taught me how to break in.” Benjamin grinned at her. “Both Curzon and Jadzia did at least.”

She remembered that, a younger Benjamin following Curzon around and Curzon doing his best to corrupt him. Teaching to gamble and break in and-

“I did didn’t I?” Ezri agreed ruefully. “Or, well, not me me but-”

“Dax.” Benjamin cut off the ramble. “I know what you meant.” He crouched down and then with a groan sat on the floor next to her.

Ezri grinned at him, “Careful there, old man.”

Benjamin shot her a look, grumbling something under his breath.

“I’m just saying,” Ezri couldn’t help but continue. “Keep up like that and you’ll lose future chances to play baseball.”

“I’ll live vicariously through Jake then.” Benjamin said, like the thought didn’t bother him but Ezri could see the frown hidden in his brow.

“And everyone else on this station you’ve gotten in to it.”

Benjamin hummed, happier than a moment before.

“Curzon never played with me.” He said suddenly and Ezri eyed him, wondering where he was going with it. “He appreciated my love of it but never showed any interest. Jadzia did, she’d come to holosuite games with me and Jake and Kasidy.”

She remembered those, quizzing Kasidy on rules and then purposefully getting them wrong to bother Benjamin and Jake.

“And you I taught.” Benjamin nodded at her.

“It was fun.” Ezri laughed at the memory. It was easy then, lost in the moment. Easier to let the hosts run free in her head.

A little bit of Emory to catch a ball. A little bit of Torias to be competitive. A little bit of Lela to manage where everyone was on bases.

“I’ll have to arrange another game.”

“Just don’t make us stage a mutiny this time.” Ezri groaned. “You were worse than Neema. Those fights we got into were brutal, it felt like I was raising a teenager for decades.”

“Audrid’s daughter?”

Ezri startled, it had slipped out. She shut her eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Trouble with the old hosts?” Benjamin asked.

White light prickled behind her eyelids.

“Always.” Ezri sighed.

“You’ll get there, old man.” Benjamin told her with such surety she almost believed it.

“Right.” She nodded, trying to relieve Benjamin of any stress that he may have had over it. Any lingering guilt that lay with him in Jadzia’s death. “I’ve got this.”

She really didn’t.

~~

It wasn’t that the symbiont was ever supposed to be like that but there were days Ezri felt she was building her own tomb.

Writing everything that was her into something else and letting herself be erased by what was already there and when it was all over all that would be left of her would haunt someone else.

All the others hosts asked for this.

It was a privilege.

One so sought at that Verad-

He didn’t count, she reminded herself, he didn’t count.

Except he wasn’t that different from her.

He got the symbiont through unfair means even if they were by his own hands.

That was the difference, she shut her eyes in the already darkness of her room closing everything out. I never asked for this.

When she first arrived on Trill with the symbiont inside her it didn’t take Audrid’s memories to know how disappointed the Symbiont Committee was; how angry they were.

She wasn’t picked, she wasn’t chosen, it wasn’t her legacy to have.

She’d stumbled around those first few days, completely lost in the past and unseeing anything in front of her. She’d cried out for children that weren’t hers, begged for a sister she never had, sought solace in a mother not her own.

And then what emerged was supposed to be Ezri.

They’d declared her ready and shipped her out like they couldn’t bear to look at her, glad to have Starfleet to assign her somewhere far away.

Instead she’d returned to exactly where she was before.

Just three centimeters to the right.

She tossed to the other side of her bed, kicking the blankets down and sighed heavily. She tried to center her mind; sorting out what it was she was feeling.

Responsibility, Lela knew it all too well, it weighed on her; everything needed to be perfect-

No, anxiety, Tobin had it in spares, it drove him to his own madness, always needing a distraction like-

Adrenaline, Emony was always waiting for the next big thing, shifting on her toes, prepared and-

Pride, Audrid carried it around her like a second skin never seeing how it hurt others but-

It was curiosity, like Torias and a desire to know and go further, try the unthinkable, he just had to be-

Angry; angry at what the committee had done to Joran; to herself, they all deserved what they got and it was the unfairness of it all it that-

Flickered, never the same thing drawing Curzon’s attention twice; nothing worth keeping everything worth knowing anyway and-

It burned. Like a sorrow for a life cut too short or the joy found in laughing with a friend; different but somehow lighting up Jadzia all the same-

“Stop.” Ezri begged quietly even though she knew no one could hear her anyway.

Not out in the halls of the station. Not in the vastness of her mind.

Can’t you just ignore it, a voice that sounded like her mother scoffed; trying to bury all the things Ezri felt.

She shouldn’t have to. That was Norvo. Always having her back.

She has to do something. Janel. Her only sibling left now. Practical and unmoved.

Do I? Ezri asked the voice. Didn’t I do something on the Destiny and end up here?

Not that they hadn’t pushed it on her.

The Symbiont couldn’t die. It was too important.

Ezri was not.

Her hand pressed against the pouch where it lay and though it was probably her imagination she thought the symbiont pressed back.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. “There was only me there.”

For once nothing answered her back and for the first time she wished it would; the thought curling around her as sleep finally claimed her.

~~

“As opposed to now leading an aboveground criminal organization?” Saeko asked drily, she dug into her purse for her own cigarette and frowned when she couldn’t find her lighter.

“Here.” Seonhee leaned over, flicking her own lighter on and offering it to Saeko.

She quickly lit her cigarette and leaned back, resting against the wall of the alley across from Seonhee.

“And I wouldn’t call it aboveground that much. Though the Yokohama Liumang are a little louder for my taste.”

Now that she was facing her Saeko couldn’t help but notice Seonhee looked just a little disheveled. She was willing to bet the guys hadn’t picked up on, except for Joongi of course. He probably noticed the second Seonhee stepped through the door.

“Needed a night off then?” Saeko tilted her head towards the bar. “I didn’t think karaoke was your style.” Idly she wondered what Seonhee sounded like while singing, what song she’d pick and which parts she’d really get in to.

The idea was…almost cute. Saeko bit the bottom of her lip so she didn’t smile, she had feeling Seonhee would catch that and get the wrong idea.

“Joongi invited me,” Seonhee admitted and dropped her cigarette to stamp it out with her high heels. She dragged a hand through her hair, pushing it back and showing off the paleness of her neck in the process.

Saeko darted her eyes away when Seonhee looked at her again.

“It sounded like fun.” Seonhee added, the hint of a smile on her face. “Your boys do things make lively.”

Saeko sighed. “They do. Don’t get me wrong they’re great and I love them but they can be…”

A cheer came from the bar as Ichiban finished his song.

“Well.” Saeko said with a smile, “That. Did you know I bunked with them briefly? Adachi is awful at cleaning up after himself.”

“I did know that. Surveillance remember?” Seonhee wasn’t quite smirking at her but only just.

“I try not to remember that. Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for that much.”

“But you’ve forgiven me a little?” Seonhee asked, she shifted on her feet making the hair she’d just pushed back fall against her face again in waves.

“Only a little.” Saeko emphasized. She took a drag of her forgotten cigarette and held up her other hand to push her thumb and forefinger together so they were almost touching. “About that much.” It was a lie of course. She’d stopped being mad at Seonhee ages ago.

It was hard to be mad at someone who would give up their pride to save their people. Even harder when they looked as good as Seonhee did.

Saeko had always prided herself in how well she put herself together but Seonhee just had a different type of composure to her. It was one that made you look and admire and felt untouchable. Saeko was half tempted to lean over and touch her now just to prove that wasn’t true.

“Guess I still have to make it up to you then.” Seonhee said, her voice teasing. “Any ideas?” She leaned back against the wall of Survive, her head tilted up and gaze meeting Saeko’s easily.

“Hm,” Saeko hummed and tapped at her cigarette, letting the ash fall. Really it was a waste she wasn’t even smoking it but it had given her an excuse to stay out here with Seonhee. “Let me think…” Not that she needed to but she was playing for time. She looked over at Survive and then back at Seonhee playfully. “A song might be a good start.”

To her surprise Seonhee huffed in that quiet laughter she did, usually whenever Ichiban was being silly. Saeko wondered what it would take to get her to freely laugh, if Seonhee ever even felt that comfortable around someone.

“Looks like I’m not getting out of this then.” Seonhee said and crossed her arms, it drew attention to her low cut shirt and just how form fitting it actually was. “But if a song is all it takes…”

“Oh I didn’t say that was all.” Saeko grinned with a little more teeth than necessary. “Just that it was a start.”

“My mistake then. Are the rest of my apologies going to be so public or will you accept something a little more private?”

It was tempting to say that they would be, to push Seonhee the way she pushed Saeko when they first met. But there was only so far a persons pride could go and Saeko was intimately familiar with it.

She was also familiar with the way Seonhee was angling herself and the tone she’d taken. Saeko herself had taught some of her girls that trick.

Rather than look away Saeko gave her a slow once over. When she finally locked eyes with Seonhee again she’d raised an eyebrow at Saeko, a quiet invitation.

“Well.” Saeko took one last drag of her cigarette and dropped it like Seonhee had to snuff out. “Show me what you’ve got then.”

Without another glance she turned to walk into Survive and didn’t need to look back to know Seonhee was watching.

She opened the door and called out to everyone in a greeting and slid up to Adachi who had the karaoke book.

“Let me see that.” She demanded. “I need a show.” She said and smirked over at the door as Seonhee entered.

Adachi looked between them and held up his hands, stepping back and away from the book.

“Have fun.” He shot as a parting, whistling as he walked away to no doubt gossip with the others.

“Oh I will.” Saeko muttered to herself. She pushed the book towards Seonhee and rested her elbow on the bar, dropping her chin in her hand. “Maybe I won’t even be alone.” She added loud enough for Seonhee to hear.

She didn’t get a verbal response but judging by the way Seonhee’s lips twitched she knew she’d gotten her answer.

~~

“So we gonna talk about this.” Nanba asked the next day when Saeko came into the bar and redid her makeup.

Seonhee was a biter, who would have guessed.

“Talk about what?” Saeko asked as innocently as she could.

Nanba narrowed his eyes. “Can you not sleep with the woman who nearly had my brother killed and tried to kill us?”

“Grow up Nanba. Besides.” Saeko shrugged. “I’ve forgiven her.”

At least after last night she had.

“Do not.” Saeko said with a point of a finger. “Tell her that.” She turned in her seat. “Especially you.” She told Joongi who had just come in.

“I don’t need to. She knows.” Joongi shrugged and Saeko huffed at him.

“Of course she does.” Saeko sighed.

Ichiban flopped in the seat next to Nanba and across from her and grinned.

“You good Sa-chan?” He asked, stretching out his foot and nudging her.

From the corner of her eye Saeko saw Seonhee enter; looking perfectly put up as always. Only now she knew what Seonhee looked like when she wasn’t.

Seonhee nodded at the others and took the seat next to Saeko, somehow smoothly sliding her arm across the back of Saeko’s seat. Her gloved fingers brushed the edges of Saeko’s hair, making Saeko wish she’d forgone the gloves. But the night was young.

There was another pregnant pause before T’Lyn put down her padd and turned to face to Tendi. “I believe it would be best to get what you ‘have always wanted’ regarding Vulcans out of the way so we can pursue our work without distraction. What else have you ‘always wanted’?” T’Lyn tilted her head. “And do you use instinct for this?”

“Oh yeah, totally, mostly I just go with how I’m feeling even if how I’m feeling is like, a total mess. Well I mean not always because sometimes how I’m feeling is like…the stereotypical Orion stuff and I don’t want to be only seen as that you know?” Tendi rambled, “Oh no, have I messed up? What if you don’t want to do stereotypical Vulcan stuff and I’m making you! T’Lyn I’m so so sorry-”

T’Lyn held up a hand, having learned early it was the best way to cut Tendi off. “I feel no attachment to…Vulcan stuff. It is one such problem that led my superiors to assigning me to Starfleet.”

“Oh.” Tendi reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here. And not just for a study buddy. I think you’ve got some really great ideas we can implement to boost the tricorders.”

“You read my notes?”

Tendi winced, pulling her hand back. “They were just lying around and I thought it was my padd at first and…sorry?” She offered again.

“You do not need to continue to apologise. You believe my process has merit then?”

“Definitely, we should totally pitch this to the Captain, I bet she’d agree.”

T’Lyn looked down at the padd in question and then back up to Tendi. “Thank you.” She opened her mouth to say something else but thought better of it.

Tendi beamed at her. “And if you have any other ideas you can bounce them off me! We’re partners now.” She stuck out her hand to grab T’Lyn’s and shook it.

“Is this symbolic of something?” T’Lyn asked, looking at their hands.

“It’s the beginning of the best science era in Starfleet history!” Tendi exclaimed. “I think we’ll be amazing.”

“I see.” T’Lyn hesitantly curled her fingers around Tendi’s and shook then pulled her hand free. “You were stating before that you had things you always wanted to do with a Vulcan, is forming a partnership one of them?”

“It wasn’t on the list but it’s at the top now!” Tendi said, laughing, “But there’s loads, like, playing baseball with a Vulcan, I read about it on a plaque on Deep Space Nine, and also oooo, cuisine of course but like not replicated not that replicated is bad but I want to experience it from the source!”

“It really isn’t that different-“

“And Pon Farr.”

T’Lyn froze. “You wish…to experience Pon Farr.”

“Well yeah,” Tendi laughed again. “But only with a Vulcan girlfriend or boyfriend and if they’re cool with that. I totally get if they’re not.”

T’Lyn opened her mouth and shut it again. Tendi continued to ramble but the words ran right over her. “You are most illogical.” She finally said. “But if you prove be a worthy partner perhaps that is something we can look in to. Years down the line.”

“Really?” Tendi’s voice got high, her hands flying everywhere as she tackled T’Lyn. “Does this mean we’re dating.”

“Perhaps.” T’Lyn said with as much dignity she could manage from being tackled to the floor. “It means I will consider if such feelings are worth evaluating.”

“So, so, scientifical.” Tendi flopped to the side, finally letting T’Lyn go. “Best day ever. Science and a girlfriend. Don’t worry, I’ll be the best girlfriend possible.” Tendi promised and then sat up. “Oh I should research that! Research session!”

“I thought that’s what a study session was for.” T’Lyn began but Tendi was already up and rushing out of the room, calling Rutherford’s name in excitement with her news.

T’Lyn watched her go, idly wondering what she’d gotten herself in to.

It wouldn’t be so bad however, instinct – whether logical to her other Vulcans or not – told her that this could turn out to be an interesting endeavor.

T’Lyn was certainly up to the challenge.

She glanced at the doorway again and then pulled out another padd, quietly researching herself what made a good girlfriend.