"So, Geordi told me that your aunt raised you but kept you prisoner in your own home, you found solace in music but your manager robbed you of everything you owned, you were married to a verbally abusive husband who was unfaithful, you were poisoned in a chemical accident and you spent the last few months on Earth running from the Mob," Barclay ticked off each occurrence with his fingers. "Trelane made you go through all of that again?"

'Armanya' nodded. "He did. He was curious to see just how horrible my life had been. He thought I had made all of it up. Unfortunately, he saw things he wished he hadn't seen. In his twisted way, Trelane does care for me. He tried to help me when we went back. He found my Fuzzy Man doll for me; the same one I lost when Aunt Ginny took him away. So I guess I owe him for that. But thankfully, I found my real home here; with all of you."

Suddenly, Barclay looked to his left, where a small orchestra sat patiently. "Maestro, if you please."

Soft classical music began to play and Barclay led her in a graceful waltz among the stars in the night sky. He looked at 'Armanya', wearing a beautiful pale yellow dress that frilled at the skirt elegantly. Her hair was tied in a bun with a matching yellow ribbon, a few strands of loose curls cascading down both sides of her face. The two of them danced silently for a few moments, the only sounds coming from the orchestra, his heart beating in time with hers and-

"A-hem. Mind if I cut in?"

'Armanya' turned to see who had tapped her on the shoulder and smiled. "Oh! Yes! Be my guest," she offered.

Barclay's palms began to sweat as he stared into the face of who had interrupted his holofantasy. "Ar-Armanya; what are you-?"

"End program," Armanya replied curtly before grabbing his hand and pulling him through the doorway.

"Armanya, I'm so sorry; it's just that I-well, I-" he stuttered, allowing himself to be pulled along towards his quarters. Wait a second; my quarters?

When they reached his room, she motioned for him to enter first. He solemnly walked inside, Armanya following right behind.

"Please don't yell at me or tell me to forget that-" he began, but she put her hand up to silence him.

"Program: play music," she ordered before a beautiful and slow melody filled the air. "Now. No holograms or computer programmed look-alikes. I know Geordi told you everything about my time on Earth. And I'm okay with it. Yes, it was horrible and tragic, but it doesn't matter now."

Barclay nodded, trying not to have a nervous breakdown. He couldn't tell if she was angry or near tears. But he had to know. "H-how did you get past it? How did you overcome everything that happened?"

"It wasn't easy. I pushed people away here at first. I stayed inside my shell. But Data and Geordi were relentless. They let me know that not everyone is a horrible person. They made me feel worth something for the first time in my life. If it weren't for them and several others on this ship, my story would have had an even more tragic ending. And that's why I wanted to meet you. You were also living inside your shell, using the holodeck as an escape when all you needed were the right people to help you feel worth something. And because of me, you were nearly killed. So I needed to apologize. I didn't get a wink of sleep last night."

"Neither did I. But I forgive you and I understand. If I were you, I probably would have done the same thing. And sadly, I'm not certain I would have had the courage to go after them."

Armanya smiled. "I believe you would have. And you showed great courage when you showed that dragon who was boss," she finished with a giggle as she pointed to a small cage with a very small dragon inside.

"Huh? How did-wait, he wasn't-?" Barclay gasped.

"He was real, Reg. He was real, the weapons were real, Trelane's house was real and the waiting alligators were real. I was looking for you and found this little guy on the way. I heard what he sounded like before, so I knew you must've been responsible for shrinking him to the size of a gerbil. While I was running towards the cliff, he latched onto my shoe and I stuffed him in my pocket. I didn't think he was real, either, until about three this morning, when I see my uniform start moving. So I put him in here to remind you of what a hero you are. You risked your life for me and you ticked Trelane off royally by proving you had what it took. You always did."

Barclay felt himself blush and before he knew it, he had placed his hands on her waist and they began slow dancing to the music. Instead of pulling away, she placed her hands on his shoulders. "Armanya?" he breathed.

"Yeah?"

"How long will he be-Trelane, I mean-"

"I don't know. But something tells me he won't be back for a long time. Q will want to throttle him and I am sure his parents will be livid. Not to mention, he will need to lick his wounds before even thinking of setting foot here again. And if he does, we'll be ready."

"We? We will?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Yes, Silly Reg. We," she smiled before moving her hands to the back of his neck and pulling him in for a sweet and tender kiss.

Barclay closed his eyes, even after the kiss ended. "Computer, end program."

"What are you doing?" Armanya giggled as he slowly opened one eye.

"I sometimes do that when good things happen. Just to make sure they are real," he confessed, looking down.

Armanya threw back her head and laughed before kissing him again. "Oh, Reg. you truly are something else. And I'm so glad you are."

And for the first time in a very long time, Barclay was glad that he was, too.