A/N: This story is inspired by a headcanon belonging to Tumblr user iseefearinyoureyeshuman (aka Shin). The date I chose to publish this story is no coincidence—Kellie Waymire, the actress playing Crewman Cutler, died ten years ago today (Nov. 13th) and this short fic is written in her memory. I think those in charge of the show made the right choice by not replacing her with another actress, but I still hate the fact that Liz Cutler's story was never finished. So for those of you who always thought three episodes and a brief mention at the beginning of the third season were never enough, I hope you like this story, which is set during/after the events of "Home". It's a lot more dialogue-focused than what I've written in the past, but I think you guys will still enjoy it.

"Dr. Phlox?"

The sound of the Sickbay doors opening followed by a voice calling his name interrupted the chief medical officer's thoughts. Even though most of the crew had taken the opportunity to enjoy some well-earned shore leave, there was still no shortage of tasks on board. Starfleet Medical had just sent up some supplies to replenish the Enterprise's dwindling stores, and now Phlox found himself rummaging through boxes full of things like bandages, gloves, and IV bags and putting them away in the appropriate drawers and cabinets. If anyone else had decided to come in and see him, he might have been somewhat irritated at first, but this voice did not belong to just anyone.

He turned around to see his friend and student Liz Cutler standing in the doorway with a slight smile on her face. She was dressed in a plain lilac-colored t-shirt and cargo pants—an ensemble that was drastically different from the uniform she wore on a daily basis—and she had a black duffel bag slung over her right shoulder. In her left hand, she carried a large overstuffed suitcase. "I knew I'd find you here."

"Ah, good morning, Elizabeth," he greeted her. It felt strange not referring to her by the more formal title of Crewman, but what was even more odd was the idea of managing his sickbay without her. "It's nice of you to stop by."

"What are you up to?" she asked, tilting her head to one side.

"Oh, I just received a new shipment of medical supplies a few hours ago. I'd have put them away earlier, but I had some other things to tend to this morning. Annual physicals, documentation, that sort of thing." He gestured towards a number of boxes sitting on the floor. "Have you said your goodbyes yet?" As proud as he was, he'd been dreading this day ever since she'd told him about her acceptance letter.

She nodded. "All but one. Unless you count these little guys," she said, wandering over to one of the many cages where the doctor kept his menagerie of animals.

Phlox set a package of bandages down on the counter and cleared his throat. "It's…hard to believe the day is finally here, isn't it?"

"I know!" Peering into the cage, Elizabeth set her things down gently on the floor. "Seems like yesterday you were quizzing me for the MCAT and I was asking for a recommendation letter." She leaned forward over the cage—where a grayish-colored furball sat making quiet purring noises—and smiled fondly, looking back on the days of which she spoke. Those were the days before the Xindi attack, when exploration was the Enterprise's primary mission. That, however, had all changed nearly a year ago when she'd heard one of the medical schools that had accepted her had been destroyed. It had taken her a long time to adjust to the new mission, but continuing to work with Phlox had helped her to find her place on board the ship again.

"When exactly are you leaving, hm?" he asked, leaning up against the counter.

"Oh, I don't have much time. The shuttle's dropping me off in San Francisco in about ten minutes." She slowly stuck a single finger in between the sturdy bars of the cage and stroked the furry little thing a few times, which she would not have done with any of Phlox's other creatures, but she had handled these organisms many times before and knew they were harmless.

"It's been nearly a year since you had the chance to spend some time at home; I can only assume you have eager some friends waiting to meet you," Phlox hypothesized.

Elizabeth withdrew her finger from the cage, but her eyes remained on the creature inside. "I'll probably meet up with them sometime later this week. Not today, though; my brother's helping me move into my apartment," she explained. Grinning widely, she joked, "Don't let this place fall to pieces without me."

The doctor smiled as well, but his smile was far subtler and seemed half-hearted. "Crewman Miller has a good deal of medical training; he and I should be able to manage my sickbay well enough. Oh, ah—there is…something I should mention before you go," Phlox added, his voice growing serious all of a sudden.

Noticing this change in his tone of voice, Elizabeth spun around to face him again. "What's that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. How could he advise her to be wary without causing her to become paranoid? "Just…be careful," he warned her, glancing down at the floor. "San Francisco isn't exactly the safest place for Starfleet officers these days. I hate to say so, but it's quite true, I'm afraid."

She folded her arms across her chest and exhaled deeply. "I heard about the fight," she told him.

"I suppose everyone's heard about the fight by now," he muttered, a note of frustration in his voice. "Oh, well. It's a small ship." He sighed. "Anyway, what worries me is the fact that this isn't just any medical school; it's the Starfleet medical school. You'll be in contact with aliens on a daily basis…and not everyone is as open-minded as this crew when it comes to accepting diversity."

"Are you okay? Are—are Mayweather and Reed all right?" she asked, walking over to his side.

"Yes, yes. Everyone's fine. It's just that…" There was a slight catch in his voice as he spoke. "It's difficult not to worry about one's friends in these situations."

"Hey, Enterprise has been through worse. And my apartment's less than a kilometer away from a hospital," she reminded him. "I think I'll be all right."

At least she was already aware of the possible danger waiting in San Francisco. Liz Cutler had always been a levelheaded woman, and she knew how to find her way out of some of the most challenging circumstances. "That's good to hear. I trust your judgment."

There was an awkward pause in the conversation, but it was not long before one of them decided to speak up again.

"Well, this is it…" Elizabeth's eyes made one last long sweep over the part of the ship that she had come to love the most before they settled on Phlox once again. "I did come to say goodbye, after all."

And to his surprise, she stepped forward—and hugged him.

Normally, he preferred not to be touched, especially not by his students, but in this case, he could make an exception. He hugged her back, hesitantly at first and then wholeheartedly upon realizing how long it might be before he could see her again.

"Thanks, Phlox," she said. "For teaching me, and for the recommendation, and for patching up my arm, and…well, everything, really."

"Thank you," he reciprocated, remembering how much she had given him as well. Not only had it been a joy to have her as a student, but her friendship was one of the many things that had given him comfort during the dark days of the mission to the Expanse. And now it all had to come to such a bittersweet end—no more trading anecdotes about the day, no more feeding the animals together, no more watching old Earth medical dramas on uneventful days. "It's been wonderful to be able to teach again."

"I'll write. No matter how busy I am, I'll write," she promised, letting go of him and stepping back a bit. She stood there a moment longer; then she made her way back over to her bag, which she picked up by the strap and slung over her shoulder. "I'm looking forward to telling you about everything I see on the wards. Oh, and don't worry," she added, noticing that Phlox looked like he was about to interject. "I won't use any patient identifiers. Privacy and all."

He nodded once. "I can see I've taught you well. Before either of us knows it, Dr. Lucas won't be the only physician writing to me."

"Before we know it? I'm not so sure about that. The next four years are going to feel like an eternity for me," she sighed. Somewhat reluctantly, she picked up her suitcase.

"Ah, but look how quickly the past three years have flown by!" he pointed out.

"I guess that's true, but…still."

Sensing his friend's concern, the doctor tried to comfort her. "I too was quite…anxious when I began my medical training. It's perfectly understandable. But it might help you to know that I think you'll do just fine," Phlox reassured her. "You're an incredible student, and Starfleet is fortunate to have you."

"I learned from the best." Elizabeth smiled warmly.

"Thank you. I'm…quite flattered."

"Well, I'll see you whenever I see you," she said, reaching for the panel on the wall and pressing the button that opened the door. "Oh, and good luck with the mission!" she added as she stepped into the corridor.

"Good luck to you too!" he called after her. She looked back over her shoulder and waved goodbye to him, and then she turned around and continued down the hall. He stood there, watching, until she eventually disappeared around a corner.

He tore his gaze away from the empty hall a few seconds later, closing the door that Elizabeth had forgotten to shut in all her nervous excitement. For years, he had trained residents at Starfleet Medical Center and watched many of them leave to pursue their careers elsewhere after their board examinations. And after all this time, seeing his students leave never got any easier. A lump was beginning to form in his throat, and he blinked a few times to prevent tears from welling up in his eyes. These tears, however, were not simply tears of sorrow—the sadness he felt was second only to pride.

The doctor took a deep breath and reminded himself that he had supplies to finish sorting. He'd see her again; that he knew for sure. Waiting would hardly be easy for him, but he'd pull through.

Denobulans were, after all, extremely patient.