A/N: Still working up to the fun stuff. As you can see, Amelia's life is going to be seen in stages. Isolated events that build her character and highlight some of our other favorites. I'm glad you guys are enjoying my OC. I pondered for quite some time before starting this story about what kind of woman I wanted the main character to be and I find Amelia very fitting. :) Enjoy!


STARDATE 2259.355

Shipyard Grant

Denver, Colorado

Dirt flew from her gloves as she shook her hand in sporadic rapid motions. Most of it landed in the plant bed, but several specks ended up dusting her jeans. She'd stopped wearing the white uniform while working in the garden, despite the attention that denim drew. White just wasn't very practical when it came to this kind of work. At least the jeans would be good again for tomorrow.

She looked down at the freshly planted tulips, a smile coming to her face. They would have never thrived outside, the cold weather of December killing almost every flower that sprouted out of the ground. But the garden was inside, technology allowing a perfect environment all year round. Her tulips would grow to take over the mostly empty bed. She couldn't wait to see their progress in a few months.

"You think the name Lily would be just a little too ironic?" She arched a brow as she asked the flower. "I thought so. We'll go with... Amanda. You all look like Amandas."

Still in a kneeling position, she reached back by her feet, her hands seeking out a small square device. They'd called it a Tricorder and apparently it did analysis on almost anything. The one she held was given to her by the lead gardener on the shipyard, Garren Lou. Garren had tried to show her how to use it, but the entire time she'd been distracted by the antennas sticking out of his head.

And his blue skin. The Andorian hadn't seemed too offended by her curiosity. He'd just sighed, annoyed more that she hadn't learned anything about the tricorder.

Now she used it like a pro. It was already powered on, her thumb holding down a button on the side as it read the pH level of the soil, feeding her information on nitrogen and various other chemicals that had been part of the fertilizer compound. The tulips would do quite well if the readings were correct.

"Amelia!" A familiar, and particularly upset, voice rang out from the double doors of the garden, the footsteps that followed heavy and paced. She didn't look back, instead shoving her tools and gloves into a plastic bag before piling them into her backpack.

"Hey, Richard."

"You missed your appointment at sickbay." And here Richard was to round her up and escort her. She shot him a glare, not missing the fact that he wasn't wearing his uniform. A relaxed set of black clothes had taken it's place, long sleeved and warm. "Don't look at me like that. Next time they'll just use the transporter." The threat of the transporter was enough to send her to her feet, her brief inspection of him brought to a halt.

"They wouldn't." Amelia had made it perfectly clear that she would never voluntarily use the death machine, only to be put back together a new person. "It takes you apart, Richard! Why am I the only one who is freaked out by that?" She had been assured that no one would force her to use the transporter unless it was a life or death situation.

"They will. You got to keep updated on your hyposprays." Because she was from 1992, there had been a large medical concern as to what bacteria she carried. Bacteria that Starfleet medical had eliminated years ago. "I'll go with you."

"I bet you will. You'll watch on as they stab me in the neck five times. And you'll smile and laugh, just like the past four times that I've been to sickbay." He didn't deny it. The bag in her hands went to her back and together they started for the door.

Casting a look back at the garden as they passed through the doors, Richard asked, "Are you liking it here?"

A loaded question, but Amelia didn't feel intimidated by it. It had been a common one, mainly asked by the select few who knew how she had arrived. "It's... I'm adjusting. Garren has been giving me a crash course on 2259 horticulture. A lot has changed." She hadn't expected it to be easy, but the technology learning curve had been steeper than she'd thought it would be.

"You seem to be doing well. I liked the tulips." They entered into a long hallway that Amelia referred to as 'sickbay row'. Instead of looking dull and uninviting as usual, it had been adorned with random batches of green leaves, red berries in the center of each cluster.

A reminder of the season, that had her dreading sickbay a little less. "They decorated!" The only other indication of the upcoming holiday had been a small evergreen sitting in the reception are of the shipyard's headquarters.

She was getting the impression that even though Christmas was celebrated, it was secular and not near as commercial as it was in her time. In fact, it had only been mentioned in passing, a few Starfleet personnel talking about vacation every now and then.

Did they still buy gifts for each other?

Richard interrupted her assumptions, his tone jovial and slightly accusing. "I think it's more to calm the patients than to be festive." He gave her a pointed stare, arching a brow.

"Way to ruin it for me."

As soon as they passed through the sickbay doors, she was ambushed. Dr. Jenkins, the bane of her existence, struck fast and true, the hypospray in his hands hitting her neck with less than gentle force. "One down." He shouted, green eyes looking far happier than anyone should while standing in sickbay.

The stinging in her neck faded, but she still clamped a hand against the injury, her eyelids dropping into narrowed slits. "-the hell!?"

"If you'd make it on time, then I wouldn't have to go to such measures." He was far from sympathetic as he shrugged, picking up a second hypospray. "You're almost done with the series, Miss Wright. Best to just get it over with."

Placing a hand on her hip, wave reluctantly waved him on. "Fine."

It was almost ritual at this point. She missed her first appointment, only to show up later in the day and get an unwarranted assault from the doctor. Jenkins was well aware of her history and even though he was curious, he hadn't pried as much as some of the others.

Jefferson was one of those others, but she understood that his curiosity was driven more by professional reason than personal ones. All Jenkins really cared about was making sure she didn't infect anyone with her 'ancient' bacteria.

Richard always joined her for the appointments, even though she was sure that he had other things to do. Being a Commander of Personnel came with a large set of responsibilities. She wondered how long he could shuck them just to make her more comfortable. In all honesty, she was grateful for his presence.

Doctor Jenkins gave her the final hypospray, patting her on the shoulder as he finished. "You only have one appointment left, then you won't have to see me until your physical." That made her think about the long term, which she hadn't done too much of so far. Was she really going to be there this time next year? Another Christmas in Denver?

Richard tapped her side with his elbow. "Let's go get some dinner."

Amelia adjusted the backpack, giving Richard a thumbs up. "Sounds like a plan."

One of the great things about staying on the installation, was that most of the buildings were connected. Temperature controls kept them cozy all year round, even the connecting hallways barely impacted by the cold weather outside. Just wearing a pair of jeans and a tee shirt she was still comfortable.

"Speaking of plans," Richard said, "Do you have any for the holiday?" With Christmas just five days away, she had given it some thought. She knew the dining facility was going to have an extended buffet, traditional foods of turkey and ham being the stars. And the rec room was going to be converted into a dance hall.

"Garren said he was going to have a small party on Christmas Eve. Many of the gardeners are going to be there." She wasn't too certain about attending, having only met them a few times. But the number of friends she had was limited, the only close one walking with her to the dining facility.

The thought made her sad and her expression must have given her away because Richard placed a hand against her elbow. "Hey, I know." He'd been beyond understanding, guiding her through everything in the past month. Doctor's appointments, introducing her to technology. Introducing her to aliens. There was very little she'd been through alone. "I was thinking that you could come with me. Meet some of my family. We have enough room and my father has been dying to meet you."

Surprised by the offer, she stopped walking, quickly turning to face Richard. He had talked of his family often, including the sister that he'd lost during the Khan incident. There had been times that she wondered if it was therapeutic for him. She wracked her brain trying to remember his father's rank. "Captain O'Shea?

"The one and only. The USS Huron is scheduled to arrive in orbit tomorrow and the crew will get a brief shore leave for Christmas. Dad's going to meet us at the lake house in Salinas."

"Us? You mean your brothers?" Ryan and Walt O'Shea had been featured in many of her and Richard's conversations. Her earlier statement about their talks being therapeutic seemed to work both ways, because just as often would she talk to him about her father, Henry, and her mother, Julia. Maybe it was another reason why they had grown so close in the past few weeks. Tied together by tragedy, adversity, and new life.

He broke her train of thought with the gentle request, "And you if you'll come with me." An expectant look crossed his features, which soon shifted into an almost pleading one. "You don't fill the place of my sister, but you create a similar place nearby."

Amelia could understand that after having had John, who was strangely a stand in for her father. Glancing down, she saw his hand hanging by his side. With a universal gesture, she grasped it in acceptance. "I'd be happy to go with you."

"Good." He beamed, looking down at their joined hands. His gaze shifted, just slightly, until it landed on her jeans and she already knew he was about to make his usual comments on her attire. "We should also consider getting you something else to wear."

Ritual was a great healing tool. She'd embraced it after learning the truth of her arrival in Denver. Mornings with a couple of the shipyard's gardeners. Noons spent in the green-room. Evenings either spent in her room or with Richard. Mixed within the ritual was slow introduction of technology.

Replicators had been on the first new inventions she'd seen, able to create almost anything out of a jumble of matter. Food, tools, and most importantly, 20th century clothing. She'd worn the uniforms when requested, but nothing made her feel more comfortable than when she was in her room wearing jeans and flannel and reading a real paperback book. All of it given upon a simple voice command.

During her second week, Richard had taken her to see an in-construction starship, the USS Exeter. It had been magnificent, even in it's frame stage and he had promised that she'd get to set foot on one in space soon enough.

Then the transporter, a topic recently brought up by the commander. They had explained it well, stating that thousands used one every day without issue. If only she'd had access to some kind of database to see how many times the damn thing had malfunctioned. In just a few minutes of learning about the technology, she'd swore that she'd never use one.

And there was still so much to see.

Richard let go of her hand, snapping her from the memories. With a raised brow, he waved a hand at her pants. "We'll find you something." Which meant that they would replicate something. Amelia felt pleased with herself for picking up the terminology, though life would get a little hard if she didn't try...

They continued their walk towards the dining facility, the details of their trip eventually hashed out over bowls of beef stew and buttered rolls. Ritual, with just the slightest sprinkle of change, was indeed a wondrous method of healing.


STARDATE 2259.356

Transport Hub

Denver, Colorado

Amelia's fingers plucked at the material of the blue wraparound tunic. It fit weird, scratched at her skin, and overall looked like something she'd see at one of those ridiculous fashion shows. Her mouth turned down in distaste as she tried to ignore how silly she felt.

"It looks fine." Richard said with a huff as he loaded a small duffel bag into their shuttle. He'd wanted to take a site to site transport, but with her voiced aversion, he'd scheduled a less "lethal" form of transportation. "Stop worrying about it. Several people here are wearing the exact same thing. It looks fine." Not only were several people wearing the wraparound, but Richard had on something similar, the casual beige complimenting his skin and eyes.

"It doesn't feel fine." She hissed, tossing her backpack in the transport to land besides Richard's. He seemed to know just how to calm her, his hand landing on her shoulder.

"Amelia. It's fine. You look great. Now get in the shuttle." Already she was feeling better, her eyes finding all the strangers with similar clothes. It was pretty common, though it was like everyone wore either pajamas or uniforms. On some she couldn't tell the difference.

They piled into the shuttle, two sets of four seats set across from one another. She shot a sideways glance at Richard that asked, where is everyone else?

"I'm Commander of Personnel. I think I can get my own car. Also, we're going to have an exam." She watched him maneuver around the shuttle, closing the hatch and setting their destination. The 'exam' he mentioned made her groan and she knew that she was about to regurgitate the same information over and over.

Richard was grinning when he took a seat across from her, pulling the straps across his shoulders. Unfamiliar with the shuttle, she watched him first before trying her own belts. Victory was short lived because as soon as a solid click resounded from her harness, Richard started. "So, Amelia... where were you born?"

"Phoenix." Question one... easy.

"Oh yeah? Me too! Did you go to school there?" They had tried to keep all of her history as close to the truth as possible. She was glad for that, having a firm moral code of honesty. But in the end she would have to lie, and she would have to do it well.

"No. I went to school in Flagstaff."

The mock conversation continued, Richard posing the next question. "I see. So, what is your profession?"

"I'm a horticulturist subcontracted by Starfleet." That part was true, an ID in her bag proof of her 'employment'.

He gave an approving nod. "You must have went to a very prestigious school. Where did you get your degree?"

Arizona State? She tried to picture her file, but the altered dates and places were like blurs in the mental image. Across from her, Richard's foot tapped against the floor in impatience. It had science in the name, remember... since horticulture is a science and all. The delay in her answer came to an end when she guessed, "Phoenix Academy of Science?"

"Close enough. Arizona Academy of Science in Phoenix." They continued the quiz for the rest of the thirty minute ride, Richard correcting her when needed and congratulating her on the harder facts. She'd spent a decent amount of time studying over her file, trying to memorize what had changed and what had remained the same. A false Starfleet background check was even attached, another set of pages to learn. And if she scrolled to the very bottom there was a section that simply said 'REDACTED Level A9D Required'. Richard had told her that only ten people had access to that, which gave a full report on her arrival.

The exam ended with an easy question, just as it had started, and then Richard unbuckled himself. It was her cue to do the same and just as the straps came off, she felt the shuttle come to a stop. Nervousness settled in her gut, not because she'd answered questions wrong, but because she was about to meet Richard's family.

She'd heard so much about them already, including their successes which made her feel a little intimidated. Through their conversations, she'd learned that Richard was very proud of his father, a captain in Starfleet and decorated hero. Captain O'Shea of the USS Huron.

Once the shuttle doors opened, she was grateful for the wraparound tunic, that scratchy material proving warm against the cold air, made colder by the sea nearby. Following Richard out of the transport, backpack hanging off one shoulder, she could hear the joyful family reunion begin to ensue.

A man with brown hair and brown eyes, identical to Richard's, was hugging him. He was just a little taller and a hair older and she knew it was Walt, his older brother. A younger man with blue eyes and blond hair stood off to the side, watching the two with an envious expression. "Come on! Why do you always get a hug first?"

"Because I'm old! Age before beauty remember?" Walt looked over his brother's shoulder, spotting her outside the transport. "Though there should always be an exception made." He said as he stared at her. It hadn't even been two minutes and already someone was flirting with her.

Heat filled her cheeks.

The two parted, Richard and Ryan giving each other a quick hug next. It was brief, but she was pretty sure that was for her benefit, their attention shifting her way. Walt made it to her first, his brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "You must be Amelia." He reminded her of Richard, not only because of his looks, but because he had that diplomatic air around him.

Instantly she knew that she'd like him. The O'Shea's just had an inviting appeal about them, friendly and open, always using the right words. Her smile grew when Walk took her free hand in his own, giving it an old fashioned kiss on the back. "Aren't you a charmer?" She said with a wink.

That nervous feeling was forgotten as they brought her towards the house. When he had said it was a beach house, he had meant it. The waves almost touched the house's piers and if it had been a little windier the waves would have made it. It looked like something out of a picture, the white home standing still against the constantly moving ocean.

She couldn't recall seeing anything quite like it. "You gonna come inside?" Ryan's voice sounded behind her, his eyes seemingly focused on her hair. She'd caught Richard doing that same thing once or twice before, his gaze becoming misty, his words sometimes broken.

And looking at Ryan, she realized there was a good reason for it. If Walt and Richard took after their father in looks. Then that meant Ryan and Natalie took after their mother. Amelia wondered if when Ryan looked at her... he was seeing his sister.


STARDATE 2259.358

O'Shea Beach House

Salinas, California

The wind had picked up, the waves finally making their mark against the concrete pillars that supported the house. She couldn't see them from where she stood on the balcony, but she could hear the impact, the slapping of water as it struck something solid.

The sound kept rhythm, two seconds-four seconds-two, and she let it lull her into a daydreaming state. She didn't like it in the future, but she didn't hate it either. She missed her home and the simplicity of it, something that she would never get back.

It made her heart hurt thinking about it... and then her brain would remind her that she'd put herself in an early grave if she kept this up forever. Richard had told her she'd learn to love it. All the opportunities she would have would keep her from thinking about the past too long.

But in these moments, just like when she was gardening, she could almost pretend that it was still 1992 and eventually she'd be getting in her little red ford and riding home to her greenhouse.

The dream came to an end as footsteps signaled someone's approach. They were heavy and paced as always and when she turned around she knew who would be there. "I thought we'd talked about the jeans?" Richard's accusation was laced with a small laugh. "I guess we can't change that, can we?"

She gave him a once over, noting that he was wearing another beige tunic. "Well.. you look silly." Another laugh as he walked towards the balcony to stand beside her, his hands coming to rest on the railing.

"I've been wanting to talk to you." His words were hesitant, just shy of reluctant. "I know you're settling in at the shipyard, but... I have news."

"Is it bad news, because it's Christmas Eve and it's just not a good day for bad news."

"It isn't bad, not exactly." She kept silent, looking out on the waves. Just a few minutes ago they had kept her tranquil. Now they just made her antsy. Richard might have sensed her building anxiety, but he pushed forward anyway. "Salo has requested that you be taken off the installation." How was that not bad news?

Shock filled her. "Why?" You know why. He hates you, remember? He thinks you are working for Khan. At the reminder, shock was slowly replaced with anger. It was infuriating that someone would go to such lengths to make her life worse, when she barely had a life to begin with.

"He brings a solid case against you. Citing that even though you were reluctantly brought here, you have no clearance to be on a shipyard. There's more but I was only able to get part of his recommendation." Richard's lack of optimism had her turning to face him, her hip resting against the railing. He didn't look her way, his eyes on the waves. Maybe he was looking for them to keep him calm.

"Lots of civilians work on the shipyard. All the gardeners are civilians." He nodded at her argument.

"Yeah, well... his case is going through. If you get removed from the installation, then it'll be unlikely that Starfleet will give you further assistance." Finally, he faced her, regret lacing his features as he placed a hand on his shoulder. "I made a promise to you Amelia. And I'm going to keep it."

"I can make it on my own." Even as she said it, she wasn't sure if she believed it. Life in the future was hard in a much different way than in the past. She couldn't even operate a transport shuttle when nine year olds of 2259 do it daily. She gave a frustrated sigh.

"If you're located somewhere else or on a different Shipyard, then the process will have to start all over. I think I can buy us some time." Now she was hearing some of his usual optimism.

She processed what he was saying, her head tilting in confusion. "You want me to leave Denver?"

He sighed, the sound heavy and pending. Then his eyes met hers and she knew that it was another life altering change. Just like when he'd told her that it was 2259. "I want you to leave the planet. It'll give me time to build a case against Salo's."

"You want me to leave the planet?" The words came slowly, her head starting to shake. Of all the things he could have suggested. Another shipyard would have been one thing, but, "The planet, Ricard?! That's your solution?"

"Amelia-"

"I'm a gardener! Where the hell am I going to garden off the planet? The only other planet I even know of is Vulcan and that doesn't seem like the best place for tulips." For a split second she pictured herself on the desert planet that she'd read about. She probably wouldn't be able to get a cactus to grow on such an environment.

"Wait, listen to me." That hand on her shoulder gave a slight squeeze and she glared at him over her shoulder. "Every Heavy Cruiser is equipped with a hydroponics bay. My father's freighter, the USS Huron even has one."

"You want to put me on a starship?" That was almost worse than another planet. At least then there would be ground under her feet. She hadn't even been into space and he wanted her to stay there on her first trip?

"Yes. You'll be safe there, Amelia." He'd used that word often with her, and after just meeting his brother she wondered if he was projecting the loss of his sister onto her. He was trying to save her where he had lost his sister. It shouldn't have been a secret, not with a few stray comments here and there that would have had anyone thinking that.

But seeing a picture of Natalie was almost like looking in the mirror.

Safe. "You mean a starship like the one that's being rebuilt in space? Safe? No... I'll be secluded." The mere thought of being trapped in space almost made her hyperventilate. But she forced herself to stay calm, counting as she took deep breaths.

"They aren't mutually exclusive. Seclusion would be safety for you." He seemed convinced that this was her best option and almost every other time she'd have trusted him. Just like when he took her to see the doctor and when he'd introduced her to one alien after another.

But this time, she didn't want to. "I like open air. I like dirt. I won't make it a week on a starship."

"Yes you will. Because your strong and you do what needs to be done. I've seen it over and over again. You've forced yourself to adapt to this life and you'll force yourself to live on a starship. It's our best option."

"Best option for what? To keep me within the Starfleet circle?"

"Yes. I've done everything I can to keep you on the installation because you're safe there. I said it before, if anyone finds out that you're from 1992 then you're put at risk. That's why we've worked so hard to limit your contact with civilians. If Salo's case succeeds then that risk increases. The wrong person learning can cost you your life. I won't let that happen."

She felt like she did a month ago, accepting something so outrageous simply because he was asking her to. "When do you want me to go?"

"In four days." That soon? It meant that she wouldn't be going back to Denver at all. She'd be going straight to whatever ship he planned on sticking her on.

"Richard..."

"I'm sorry." He touched her arm, then moved faster than she had time to react. His arms circled around her, pulling her tight into his embrace. It wasn't too hard, but it was a firm hug, one that asked for compliance. "I'm so sorry. I know you've worked hard this past month, but everything... everything has led up to this. You know how to work in a temp controlled garden. You know how to use a tricorder and a replicator. You've met every alien race that could be on the ship."

Amelia pulled away, feeling a little betrayed. With just that tiny movement back, Richard let her go, his face showing guilt. "You've prepared for this? You knew I would be leaving?"

"I had an idea." He didn't expand on it, stopping abruptly as a second set of footsteps could be heard. They both looked to the double doors that led onto the balcony. Within a few moments, Richard's father stepped into view.

There was a knowing expression on his face as he watched them, glancing back and forth between his son and Amelia. "I see that Richard has told you about the move."

An indignant snort escaped her as she cast them both annoyed glares. "Am I always the last one to know what's going on?"

"He hasn't told me everything, keeps saying it's classified. But I think my son forgets that I've built up far more contacts that the average Captain." Mr. O'Shea approached the railing, his gait slow like he was sneaking up on a rabbit. "He's right, you know. You will be safe on a starship. With all that's going on, this talk about augments is spreading like wild fire. They get wind of you and you'll be a target."

"So I've been told. Am I going to be on the Huron with you?"

"Unfortunately, no. I've already got three techs in my hydroponics bay. I'll be taking you up to the orbiting shipyard though. On a shuttle, since Richard says you won't use the transporter." The last part was said in mild annoyance. It seemed everyone but her trusted the damn thing.

"So what's going to be my new home?"

"The USS Enterprise. She'll launch in just over a week for their five year voyage." Five years...

"Five years? Oh, hell no. Richard, that's like a prison sentence!" He expected her to be gone for five years?

Mr. O'Shea jumped in before Richard, "It'll go by quick. And by the time you get back, everything should be taken care of. Your identity will be secured. The experience you gain will help you stay contracted Starfleet. If you want you'll even get a chance to test in as enlisted." As Mr. O'Shea spoke, Richard nodded in agreement.

"Five years?" She said again with a whisper, but they didn't seem to bothered by the length of time.

Then Mr. O'Shea went on to describe how the hydroponics bay worked on the Huron, making it sound just like where she'd planted her tulips just a few days prior. Except she'd be focusing on food, both to supplement the replicator and work as an emergency stockpile of food should the replicators fail. Overall, what she had learned so far would be put to use.

Richard had done well guiding her, preparing her for what was to come.

When the conversation was over, she realized that she had accepted this fact. Just like when they had told her she'd traveled through time. Mr. O'Shea gave a proud smile, crossing his arms and looking at her with admiration. In a surprised tone he said, "You were right about her, son. She's a strong one."

They gathered around the fireplace and it reminded her of a scene out of a movie. Richard laughed as Ryan told a joke. Mr. O'Shea smiled as he poured a small glass of whiskey. And Walt grinned as he placed another log on the fire. The warmth of the room seeped through her skin, making her feel better than she had in a long time.

It felt like home. Richard made it feel like home.

They didn't talk about the fact that she'd be leaving so soon, instead sticking to topics like the weather and prior holidays. But even though they hadn't brought it back up, her mind still focused on it. She wouldn't have a view outside. She wouldn't have home-made cocoa.

She'd have the hydroponics bay and sometimes she'd have a video log sent from Richard. What little family she had gained, she was soon to lose only to be trapped aboard the starship Enterprise. Five years was a long time. Long enough, maybe, to make new friends and form a new family.

She cupped both her hands around her mug, staring down at the steaming liquid that sat inside. This new world came in waves, just like the ones outside that lapped at the pillars.

"Hey." Richard's soft voice drew her gaze upwards. He was holding something in his hand, it's colors red and green and resembling of the occasion. A similar package was tucked under his arms. "I have something for you."

"I thought exchanges happened on Christmas?" The corner of her mouth tilted up. Placing the mug on the table she took the box as he handed it over. It wasn't adorned with ribbons, just simple paper, but she stared at it, tears forming in her eyes. Life in 2259 had it's moments, accompanied with cocoa and dirt and things that hadn't changed much since 1992. "I have something too, but it's in my bag."

"You can give it to me tomorrow." He said as he took a seat beside her on the couch. "I just knew that you'd be over-thinking everything and... I wanted to make it a little better." Her fingers toyed with the corner as he spoke, sinking in to the break in the paper. "Go ahead."

That was all she needed, her hand tearing down the side and shoving the paper to the floor. It was a thoughtful gift, her chest tightening as she gazed at the item in her lap.

It was a framed picture of them, taken during her third week by Garren. She was wearing one of the white uniforms, dirty fingerprints and smears across the pants. She was holding a potted orchid, the blooming flower an unusual dark purple. She'd been using a color enhancing fertilizer and on that day it'd finally had its desired effect. Richard was pointing at the plant, making an exaggerated face that said congratulations.

"I love it." The whisper barely reached her owns ears, the words scratchy with emotion. "I'll keep it in my quarters. On the Enterprise."

"That's the idea." He pulled the other box from under his arm, but she held her hand up, stopping him short.

"Wait. Let me get mine." With a sigh and a grin, he waved her off. She made the trip quickly, running to the guest room and searching through her backpack. It wasn't in fancy paper, just wrapped in some of the black plastic that was kept for plant beds. When she made it back to the living room, he was still on the couch, staring down at the picture he'd just given her. "Can't take it back now."

"I have one just like it in my office." He admitted, glancing back up to see the package in her hand. "You didn't have to." He said, taking it as she held it out.

"I know. But it's tradition. Even after all this time." Just like her, once he found the side, he ripped open the plastic. And just like her, his eyes filled with mist. He held it carefully, working to keep his prints from the glass.

Pressed between two panes, straightened and pristine, was a five dollar bill. She'd learned it's worth was more than it's monetary counterpart in her time. Turning in one of her twenties had scored her a few hundred credits.

A collector's item, they had called it. Just five weeks ago, she'd known it as cash. "Something to remember me by."

"I don't think I need currency for that." Together they looked into the fire. "I'll send you video calls as often as I can.; Over a secured line in case you need to talk."

"I'm sure I'll need it." They both traced their individual gifts, seemingly lost in the present...