Disclaimer: Wow... officialness! Ok, I'll be nice and official: I do not own Star Trek. How was that? Good? Yay! I do, however, own Tatiana and Monty. Yeppers! And I own my puzzle. And my rock-and-roll-hall-of-fame wristband. Yes, to my fellow classmate-Trekkies, I'm still wearing it. Though you can't see the writing anymore, it's all faded... and stuff.

(A/N- Yay! My very first author's note! That is SO exciting! Ok, special little message to Ariennye, Happi Froggi, and i_am_bug... remember that story I wrote? The one with Monty, the Trekkie, and the Data action figure? Well, I deleted the old copy (waah!) but this is the new version. Yup.)

"Tatiana, I'm running away."
"Don't be stupid, Monty. You can't run away."
"Why not?"
"You just can't."
"Why not?"
"Becuase... because it's stupid. People don't run away. It just doesn't happen, ok? The world doesn't work that way. Kids run away, Monty, not sixteen-year-olds. (A/N- ok, I'm sorry- hang my head- I'm making my characters sixteen. Bad! Bad! I shouldn't make my characters sixteen, since I don't know what it's like to be sixteen, because I've never been sixteen, and so I won't understand my charcters, which is never a good thing. But I'm doing it anyhow.) Don't talk about this again."
"Tatiana, you can't stop me."
Silence.
"I am running away. Now, you can come, or you can stay behind, living the same old life, day after day, everyday. You complained to me, once, remember? You complained, it's always the same, Monty. Nothing ever changes. Do you remember?"
"I remember."
"Well, it's gonna change. At least for me. And maybe for you, too, if you're smart and you come with me. You have a choice, Tat, come, or be left behind. Come on, Tat, what'll it be?"
Silence.
"Tat! This is your chance! It's all arranged, we'll fly to California, and then-"
"And then what, Monty?"
"And then who knows? Who cares? I don't. Tell me Tat, are you coming?"
First, silence. Then, very quietly- "yes."