Visions of her mother's caramel brownies danced in Kathryn's head.

She felt comforted by thoughts of her mother's voice, speaking in dulcet tones of inconsequential things. Home was a place where the decision between science and command would come easily, she told herself. There the painful memories of a cold and dark forest on a Cardassian outpost would evaporate with the morning haze on the cornfields. In her daydream, Justin would take the job on Earth, Starfleet would obligingly coordinate their schedules and they would live happily ever after.

In reality, she was a mess.

They were only three days from home and Justin still refused to talk about which posting he might take, giving no hint whether he'd made a decision. Both science and command seemed equally appealing when it came to her own career choices. Whenever she brought it up with Justin, though, he not-so-subtly nudged her towards command.

Yet these anxieties paled in comparison to the violent memories of grey-skinned figures that crept into Kathryn's mind every day since her rescue from the Cardassian outpost. She may have escaped the prison, but she struggled to escape her own mind. The afternoon's distraction was badly needed.

Kathryn arrived at the holodeck to see almost half the ship had turned out for the end-of-mission Parrises Squares tournament. She stepped up into the highest row of the bleachers as players took their places for the game. A group of women from ops sat in the row in front of her, chatting enthusiastically.

"Is this seat taken, Ensign?"

Kathryn looked up to see Commander T'Por.

"Please," Kathryn said, gesturing for the Commander to take the empty seat. It surprised Kathryn to see her; Parrises Squares was a vicious game. That didn't seem to be something that would interest a woman from a society known for its stoicism. T'Por sat.

"Do you have a prediction for the outcome of the match, Ensign?"

How unusual that T'Por was making small talk, Kathryn thought.

"Didn't think about it, I suppose. I'm just hoping for as few injuries for everyone involved as possible." She thought of Justin in his role as one of the shooters in the game, a position that combined offense and defense. When shooters couldn't score points, they aimed to maim. Injuries were a given. "Being Vulcan, I'd imagine Parrises Squares must look like something of a blood sport to you."

T'Por's response came as a surprise. "On the contrary. I understand it largely as a game of tactics and great physical agility. It is fascinating to watch. I wrote a number of papers on the strategic theory of this game during my time at the Academy."

Now Kathryn was curious. "Are you saying you're a fan?"

T'Por nodded. "Indeed. When emotion is removed from conflict, strategy and tactics remain as purely logical expressions of power struggles. They are exceptionally interesting fields to study and of value to any Federation officer."

If she hadn't known better, Kathryn would've said she was listening to Justin discuss his work, not talking to Commander T'Por about Parrises Squares. Well, everyone had a hobby. If Kathryn could enjoy ballet, she supposed a Vulcan could have a passion for Parrises Squares.

Their conversation came to a halt as the first quarter began. It was one of the fastest-paced games Kathryn had ever seen. Talking tactics with T'Por was interesting, but watching Justin's every muscle move in the tight protective suit the players wore was entrancing. Kathryn's attention was undivided.

The referee announced the second quarter and the match continued. "Who's the swoon-worthy shooter for the black team?" The woman in front of Kathryn asked her companions.

Kathryn's ears perked up.

"Swoon-worthy?" objected another woman, "Are you kidding? Lieutenant Tighe will just as soon take your head off as talk to you."

Kathryn snickered. The woman wasn't entirely wrong.

Just then, they watched as Justin hit the opposing team's passer, Sally Rhoades, in the stomach with his ion mallet, bringing her to her knees. Kathryn winced. Justin seized the opportunity to claim the ball and ran with it while Sally was still down.

"Okay," the woman in the row ahead of her said, sounding entirely uncomfortable. "I…see what you mean."

"Besides," another woman said, "I hear he's taken."

The group's conversation suddenly wasn't funny anymore.

"Seriously?" said the one who'd called out the finer points of Justin's personality. The crowd winced as Sally kicked her leg out and tripped Justin, who proceeded to fall face-first on the pyramid. Blood poured from his nose. Kathryn let out an involuntary gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. She was glad the crowd was too loud for them to have heard her.

"Yeah. He's dating Janeway."

Kathryn wished she could crawl under the deck plating. She was glad group of women hadn't noticed her when she'd taken her seat.

The group sat enraptured in the gossip as the first woman prattled on. "You know, that fresh-on-the-boat ensign in sensor diagnostics? She used to report to Tighe. Rumor has it she seduced him, Paris found out, and she got reassigned."

Kathryn's anger blistered. She rose to her feet, ready to defend herself from these blatant lies—

And sat right back down.

What was she going to say to them? Oh, so there's this covert assignment you don't know our ship was on and Justin and I nearly died to save each others' lives while we were carrying out that mission and besides—isn't he gorgeous?

Yeah, that wasn't going to work. But it was the next comment that made her mouth fall open.

"Who cares if he's got a lousy personality?" a fourth woman suggested wistfully. "It's not like you talk much during sex and with a body like that he's probably amazing in—"

"Officers."

Commander T'Por had spoken, addressing the row in front of them. Kathryn turned to her, thinking she was being scolded too, then quickly saw the Vulcan woman's gaze locked firmly on the four women in gold.

"Although this event is informal, you are in uniform," T'Por began, her tone perfectly measured and emotionless. "Speculating on personnel decisions is neither appropriate nor respectful and I suggest you reconsider your topic of conversation."

The quartet looked horrified. Kathryn could tell the instant the woman who started the gossip laid eyes on her, as the woman went pale and turned away. Kathryn noted with some satisfaction that the gold of the womens' uniforms clashed mightily with the red that their faces had turned.

"You may return to viewing the game," T'Por concluded. The group mumbled a series of apologies to Kathryn and T'Por.

"Thank you, Commander," Kathryn said quietly. T'Por nodded in return.

A cheer from the spectators around them drew Kathryn's attention back to the game. She saw Darren toss the ball to Justin and then tackle both opposing passers, barreling down ten steps of the pyramid into a heap of limbs. It was only after a buzzer went off that Kathryn saw Justin proudly holding his ion mallet in the air. Justin had scored the match point and the game was over. The room erupted in cheers and cries of dismay.

Darren stood up and dramatically dusted off his legs. The ops team's passers lay on the ground like humanoid bowling pins. Never would she have guessed that balding, skinny Darren was capable of such violence.

Kathryn watched the teams as they separated and shook hands. Both Justin and Darren went back to check on Sally. Sally clapped Justin on the shoulder. Kathryn noticed idly that the Parrises Squares uniforms looked eerily similar to the black body armor Justin had worn when he'd rescued her on Urtea II.

Sideswept by her memories, Kathryn felt herself braced against a tree on Urtea II. Heart pounding and chest heaving, she watched Justin retreat into the dark distance to rejoin the other Rangers to recover Admiral Paris. Panic threatened to overwhelm as her rescuers ran farther and farther away. The outlines of those bodies had been familiar, so familiar, but in the moment she hadn't thought to place names to body shapes.

Now she knew. The silhouettes were in front of her again, only this time their faces were clear. Darren and Sally were Rangers.

But a fourth figure darted across her memory. Tall and lithe, this person's movements were precise, measured and efficient like a dancer. Who was this person?

Commander T'Por's voice broke through Kathryn's memory. "I will be taking my leave." Kathryn looked up to see the Vulcan woman blinking at her. "I would hope you have a most pleasant evening, Ensign."

"You too, Commander." As her superior officer walked away, she couldn't help but notice the way the woman walked. Precise. Measured. Efficient. No, the Ranger didn't move like a dancer, Kathryn realized.

The Ranger moved like a Vulcan.

Kathryn's unexpected conversation with T'Por suddenly made sense. The Commander's interest in tactics and strategy wasn't purely academic. T'Por was a Ranger, too.

As she considered this, her first meeting on board came to mind. Kathryn now realized that the people Admiral Paris had briefed at that conference room table were T'Por, Sally, Darren, Justin and herself. Well aware that she was the most inexperienced officer on the ship, Kathryn had felt trusted, respected and even honored to have been included in a group privy to information of such importance to Starfleet.

That memory worried her. If Admiral Paris had singled Kathryn out and surrounded her with special ops soldiers from her first day on board, he'd done it for a good reason.

The question was, why?

"So what do you think, Kathryn?" a woman asked. "Could I make the major league when we get home?"

Sally stood in front of Kathryn, a towel around her neck. Darren was walking up the stairs behind her, Justin on his heels. The seats were half emptied.

"Huh?"

Sally looked at her with excitement. "How was the game, Kathryn?!"

Kathryn pulled herself together. "Amazing. But are you okay? You got hit pretty hard," she asked Sally, stalling while she tried to process what her mind had revealed.

Sally laughed, a broad smile on her dark face. "Oh, you mean getting whacked in the ribs by Tighe's ion mallet?" She waved dismissively. "I was on the Academy women's championship team two years running. I faked that fall."

Justin frowned. "Just glad you're okay," he responded. There was a compassion in his voice that spoke to a more familiar relationship than Kathryn had previously recognized. The ease with which they conversed—and indeed, always had, she realized now—spoke volumes. These three people were close, as close as a band of brothers.

She needed to talk to Justin. Alone.

#

Kathryn stood in the shower with Justin, inspecting his bruises and washing the final traces of blood off his face.

"Remind me never to play Parrises Squares with you," she muttered.

He ran his hand along the curve of her hip, his navy eyes smoldering as he smiled down at her. "I'd be gentle with you."

Kathryn ignored his innuendo and snatched the opportunity to get an answer to her questions. "You mean you'd be gentle with someone who's not a Ranger."

He blinked, momentarily stunned by her comment.

"Darren. Sally. T'Por. They're Rangers, aren't they?" she prodded.

Justin frowned. This was obviously not a conversation he wanted to have. "Kathryn, please don't waste your time guessing."

"I'm not guessing," she spat back. "I know what I saw."

Water splashed off the shower walls and he reached up, tenderly sweeping a thick lock of sopping wet hair off her forehead. His voice was devoid of emotion, his face expressionless. "Then why are you asking?"

Kathryn scowled, taking measure of the depths of her paranoia before diving in. "In our first meeting on board, Admiral Paris briefed you, me, T'Por, Sally and Darren. That means I was the only person being briefed who wasn't a Ranger. Why?"

Justin's lips formed a flat line. He seemed oblivious to the water that poured down on his head and dripped into his eyes. His hesitation told her that she was right.

Finally he asked, "What are you talking about?"

Was he stonewalling or outright manipulating her? Why wouldn't he answer her questions? It made her feel ill but she demanded to know. "I was the only one being briefed who wasn't a Ranger, wasn't I? I was the only one who was hearing for the first time that we were on a classified mission. Tell me why, Justin."

"Kathryn, stop guessing," he commanded, his voice still even-keeled. "If you want someone to confirm or deny whatever theory you've got, you're going to have to ask the one person on board with pips on both sides of his collar."

Oh, you bet I plan to, she swore to herself.

The water continued to cascade onto Justin's head, streaming off his hair and splashing on his well-defined shoulders. For a long moment he didn't speak, didn't move, just blinked at her with those deep blue eyes.

What was he hiding?

At long last, he sighed deeply. "My group's work is need-to-know, Kathryn," he offered, addressing her unspoken worry about his honesty. "I love how curious you are, but the mission's over. It's not that I won't talk, it's that I can't talk. Please understand."

Growing up in a Starfleet family didn't make her the blue blood he seemed to think she was, but it did mean she respected orders. His platitudes infuriated her but she knew pressing her case would get her no further.

She nodded, defeated.

He kissed her forehead and pulled her in tightly, then shut off the water and handed her a towel.

"Can I give you something good to think about instead?" he asked, grabbing another towel and wrapping it around his waist.

"Such as?"

"I got a message before the game from Starfleet Command. Details came in for my debriefing. Specifically, schedules…and housing arrangements." She searched his face, trying to glean what he was getting at. "They gave me a full apartment on campus at the Academy for my time there. I know it's just two weeks, but stay with me. Please," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Part of his comment caught her by surprise. Why was he only staying for such a short time? And where was he going after that? "Wait. You're only staying for two weeks?" This wasn't good. She thought they'd have months to spend together before either one of them would have to ship out.

"My debriefing is only two weeks. Starfleet is in a hurry to get me on to my next assignment, whichever of the two I choose. Speaking of which, we need to talk. Not tonight, but tomorrow. I have a decision to make and I'm not going to sign my life away again without asking you first."

Sign his life away? "Does that mean you're going to—"

"Later," he interrupted, turning his back on her and walking out into the bedroom. She gritted her teeth at having been shut out again but followed him anyways. Justin opened a dresser drawer, handing Kathryn her clothes before he continued. "They gave me until we get home to decide and that's exactly what I plan to do."

"Bit of a power play, dragging them along like that, isn't it?"

He began to dress while he answered her. "Isn't that what Starfleet's doing, offering me a promotion with one job and not with the other?"

She considered it. It was rare for anyone to get choices about postings, let alone to be offered a promotion on condition. Justin clearly thought something seemed strange, too. What was going on here? "Yes, I suppose what they're doing is a bit of a power play."

She shrugged off her clothes and began slipping into her clothes. He eyed her appreciatively for a moment then looked her right in the eyes.

"So you'll stay with me?" Hope abounded in his voice.

Her earlier thoughts of caramel brownies hadn't been just idle fantasy. Kathryn needed to go home. But she could hold out for two more weeks, right? If she and Justin only had two more weeks together before he shipped out again, she wanted to spend the time together.

Kathryn rested her hands on Justin's bare chest, taking a moment to revel in the power she felt in his muscles before she tilted her head up to look at him. She kissed him lightly on the lips.

"I'd love to."

He swooped her into an embrace so tight that her feet came off the ground. His arms squeezed the air out of her lungs for an instant before he set her back on her feet.

She looked up at him, confused. "What was that for?"

Taking her delicate hands, he held them tightly in his. "It feels like we're moving in."

"Justin, half my clothes live in your drawers. My books and my PADDs sit on your shelves. I'm pretty much already moved in. And it'll only be for two weeks," she reminded him, even as her smile mirrored his own.

"Maybe more than two weeks. Who knows?"

Knowing how many decisions stood between them and a full life together, Kathryn looked at him skeptically. "Since when do you get ahead of yourself, Lieutenant Tighe?"

He leaned in, stopping with his lips just a breath away from hers. His eyes-the one he'd been born with and the one he'd lost to their captors-lit with a fire she thought burned hot enough to keep her warm for the rest of her days.

"I've been getting ahead of myself ever since Ensign Janeway told me I could take my self-righteous bullshit and go to hell."

Before she could respond, he silenced her with a kiss, pulling her petite form against him. Her body responded immediately, rising into his embrace as her mouth explored his. As if he were a fine wine, she tasted him slowly and reverently. Before long they'd found their way back to his bed, her worries temporarily forgotten.

Later that evening Justin slept soundly but Kathryn lay awake. Questions flew across her mind like the warp stars in the window overhead.

Over and over again she played the memories of her rescue, making sure that the figures she'd seen belonged to the officers who had attended her first meeting on board. Each time she came to the conclusion that her memory was right. Knowing the Admiral, Owen wouldn't have introduced her to the Rangers unless he had expected that she would need to know them at some point on this mission. It dawned on her that he may have planned to take her on that mission all along.

But why take her of all people on an intelligence-gathering mission? The Rangers were better prepared to engage with the Cardassians. Any other member of the science staff would've been better prepared to retrieve the equipment. All of them had more field experience.

Not to mention, Kathryn herself had been something of a prize for their enemy, she realized with a start. How lucky it was they'd been rescued before the Cardassians discovered that like Admiral Paris, her father was also a high-ranking officer who was heavily involved in the cold war with the Cardassians.

A shiver shook her body.

It seemed entirely unlikely that Owen Paris would've believed any intelligence-gathering mission was without risk. And under those circumstances, taking her on one of those missions was stupid. And the idea that he led the mission? That idea was even more stupid.

None of it added up. Kathryn glanced over at Justin's sleeping form before lifting the covers off herself and quietly walking out to the living room. Taking a seat at his comconsole, she keyed in her activation code and began to tap out a message.

From: Kathryn M. Janeway (ENS)

To: Owen T. Paris (ADM)

Admiral,

I have some questions about our mission on Urtea II that I believe only you can answer. They're not going to be easy questions, Sir. I apologize in advance for that.

And no, this can't wait until after debriefing.

Ensign Janeway