Kathryn struggled to sleep that night. She tossed and turned, but she was unable to escape the memory of what almost happened.

Her thoughts were a confused jumble of guilt and remorse and desire. Everything had felt so right, so natural. She'd do anything to find out what his lips tasted like, to feel his strong hands on her body. That's ridiculous. You're just lonely, she told herself. Since when had she been attracted to Captain Paris anyway? I'm just missing Ethan. But right now she didn't want Ethan. She wanted Owen.

She'd always admired Owen. He was the ideal Starfleet officer. Intelligent, curious, hardworking. He had a successful career and a wonderful family. It was everything she wanted to be and to have. She had always been aware that Owen was attractive, but she thought it had been more of an objective assessment, not a sign of personal desire. She couldn't deny that he was tall and fit, with broad shoulders, and the most piercing blue eyes she'd ever seen. And if he had gone a little gray and had fine lines around his eyes, it only served to make him look more distinguished. So maybe she had a bit of a crush on him. So what? Didn't everyone have a crush on their boss?

But they don't act on it.

Kathryn groaned and buried her head in her pillow. She could still hardly believe she'd been so close to kissing him. He was her captain , for god's sake! The worst part was thinking about Julia. Owen wasn't just married; Kathryn had actually met his wife. His wonderful, beautiful, accomplished wife.

Shame burned deep in Kathryn's stomach, but she took comfort in the fact that nothing had actually happened. This wasn't the sort of person she was. Or that Owen was. They were good people. They didn't do things like this. This… it was just one tiny misstep. They were lonely and drunk - not that drunk, it was only one bottle of wine - and it wouldn't happen again. She wouldn't allow it.

Then they could move on with their lives. It would be quickly forgotten.

Owen Paris hadn't slept much recently. Usually, it was because his sleep was plagued with nightmares. Nightmares of scaly hands and questions he couldn't answer. Nightmares of pain and terror and screams. But last night had been different.

The bridge crew continued to work around him, oblivious to his discomfort. He sat rigidly, hands clasping the arms of his chair, as he watched them work. They were a good crew. My crew. And he took that responsibility seriously. So he would be professional. He wouldn't show any weakness, any distraction. And he wouldn't make that mistake again.

Because that what it was. A mistake.

A young, pretty mistake with a husky voice that sent chills through his body.

But Owen Paris wasn't a man that made mistakes. She'd just been there in a vulnerable moment. It was merely an unfortunate confluence of events. He was still struggling to recover from what had happened with the Cardassians, and it left him uncharacteristically needy and vulnerable. They were a little drunk. Really, the mistake was not sending Kathryn back to her quarters earlier.

Even though nothing had happened, things had gone too far, come too close. Next time, he wouldn't let things go so far.

Of course it had to be today that she was assigned to the bridge. She was at the science station to his right. Every so often, he caught her looking in his direction out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it.

Because it didn't matter. Nothing was going to happen.

He should call Julia after his shift. He'd feel better after getting a chance to speak with his wife. There was nothing to worry about.

He clasped the arms of the chair a little tighter.

Kathryn didn't know where she was. Everything was dark. Moving by feel, she pulled herself to her knees and began to crawl, fingers searching for clues as she moved. The floor was smooth and gave her no hints, but when she looked up again, something was there where nothing had been a moment before. The darkness hadn't lifted, but in front of her on the ground she saw a body.

The captain!

She began to move faster, trying to get to him, but no matter what she did she never seemed to get any closer. "Captain! Owen!" Standing unsteadily on weak knees, she began to run, but still she didn't get any closer. "Owen!"

He didn't respond to her cries, his body motionless and unresponsive. Then she heard a voice.

"Tell me what you know!"

The captain didn't respond to the voice any more than he had to her, but the voice wouldn't accept his silence. There was a sizzle of electricity, then Owen was screaming, clawing at his chest and writhing in pain.

"No!" Kathryn tried to run again but never seemed to move anywhere.

"Tell me what you know!"

There was another sizzle, a new scream ripped from Owen's throat, then he abruptly cut off, body collapsing, too still, too quiet.

"Owen! No! NO!" She began to run again and she finally moved towards him, only to see his body disappear as soon as she got close.

Kathryn bolted upright, a scream stuck in her throat. Her chest heaved, and she struggled to catch her breath. She drew up her knees and curled around them, hugging herself. It's fine, she told herself. It's not real.

It was real, another voice told her.

But it's over, she reminded herself. It's over. Captain Paris is probably in his quarters. Asleep. Alive. Fine.

She tried to focus on her breathing.

Breathe in.

...Breathe out.

Breathe in.

...Breathe out.

After a few minutes, she felt her heart rate slowly return to normal, but the underlying anxiety didn't pass. First she tried just getting out of bed. Turning the light on. Walking around. When that didn't help, she got some coffee - decaf of course, it was the middle of the night after all. But that didn't help either; the cup trembled in her hands. She thought maybe she could try to work out. But the thought of running into anyone in the gym terrified her. She wasn't prepared to deal with other people.

She sat down on the small sofa and stared at her abandoned coffee. Everything is fine. You know that. It's over.

But no matter what she told herself, she couldn't get over the feeling of certainty that Owen was dead.

He's fine. He's in his quarters. He's probably asleep, like a normal person.

But what if he's not? What if something is wrong? What if he needs help? I have to help him!

That's ridiculous. You had a nightmare. Move on.

Kathryn squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her hands over her face. You're fine. Calm down.

But she couldn't. The trembling grew stronger. Seemingly left with no other options, she stood up and left.

Only three minutes later, she was buzzing the door to Owen's quarters.

As she waited for him to answer, a thousand terrible possibilities flew through her mind.

He's dead.

...He's not dead.

He's hurt. He can't make it to the door.

...He's fine. He's probably asleep.

He's restrained and can't respond.

...Someone would have noticed the ship being boarded.

He's been captured.

...Someone would have noticed!

Then why isn't he opening the door?! Something's wrong-

Then the door opened. Owen stood in the doorway, in an undershirt and robe, blinking blearily. Kathryn was so relieved to see him that she barely even noticed his state of undress. When he saw Kathryn, his eyes snapped open and he took a surprised step back before he pulled himself together. "Lieutenant." His voice was all business. "You really shouldn't be here. If you need something, you can make an appointment through Commander Vega."

Kathryn withered a little, wringing her hands. "I- I'm sorry. You're right. I just needed to make sure you were okay. You- you obviously are. I'm sorry. I'll go."

She turned to leave only to feel his hand on her arm. "Kathryn… " he began, voice softening, "are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm fine," she insisted quietly. "I just… I'm sorry. I'm being ridiculous. Sorry to bother you sir." She started pull away again but he didn't let go of her arm.

"Come in, Kathryn. I can't send you back to your quarters alone right now. Sit with me until you feel better."

She nodded her thanks and followed him in, heading straight to the couch. He sat down next to her. "What happened?"

"I'm - I had a nightmare." She licked her lips and tried to continue, but her words were halting. Images of Owen kept flashing before her eyes. But not the Owen currently sitting next to her. She saw him in pain, heard his screams. She saw his broken lifeless body on the ground. "I saw you. They were torturing you. And - and I thought you were dead." She reached out next to her for his leg, but then pulled back abruptly. You can't do that! she reminded herself. "I know it doesn't make any sense." She swallowed and turned to face him. "But… I just... needed to see that you were okay."

Owen took her hands in his and squeezed. "I'm fine, I promise."

Kathryn nodded. "Okay. Good. I mean, that's all I - I should really go." She began to stand up, but Owen didn't let go of her hands.

"It's okay," he murmured. Then he pulled her into his arms and held her. She relaxed against him, resting her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around his back. He stroked her hair gently and murmured to her soothingly.

Eventually, she pulled back. "Thanks," she whispered. She knew she should stand up and go back to her quarters, but she suddenly didn't want to. She felt more relaxed in Owen's arms than she had in a long time. "I… I should go."

Owen nodded.

"But… I don't want to."

She looked up in surprise at Owen's warm touch on her cheek. He cupped a hand against her jaw, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Then he pulled her gently towards him and kissed her.

She felt like she could have stayed in that moment forever. She was warm and comfortable and safe, and his kisses tasted just as sweet as she had imagined and as long as she was with him, she'd know he was okay.

Then he pulled back, breathing heavily. He looked afraid. His mouth began to open, but she didn't give him a chance to get anything out. She pulled him firmly by the shoulders and kissed him passionately and he gave in immediately under her touch, returning the kiss and threading his fingers through her hair. She slid her arms around his neck, holding him so close it was like her life depended on it. And maybe in that moment, it felt like it did.

They kissed until she couldn't breathe, and she finally pulled back, still holding him close, gulping oxygen as she stared into his eyes, only inches away from hers.

She licked her lips. "Owen… "

When his name left her lips, his eyes widened and he looked at her as though shocked. He pulled back and Kathryn's stomach dropped through her feet.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "You should go." He got up without waiting for a response, and Kathryn fled to her quarters.