Disclaimer: Only one of the characters is mine (if that). Sue me if you
have a problem.
A/N: I have been having people ask me about Frances' apparent complete lack of remorse when it comes to her family being dead. Keep in mind: She has been in the twenty-fourth century for almost a year. It's not that she doesn't care; she finished mourning. Um... also, forgive me if I use the wrong terms for things. The episodes I saw, I saw a long time ago. This fanfic is actually overdue by about a year. But now: To the Bat Cave!!!
Frances tapped the edge of her pad angrily, while Benlet tried to explain the basis behind warp theory. "I don't get this." She said, tossing away the pad. Her thoughts kept wandering, which didn't help. She couldn't help wondering where her functional warp drive pad had gone. She thought back to every classroom and lecture hall she had visited that day, and couldn't imagine where she'd lost it.
"I know, but if you want to get into Starfleet, you're going to have to memorize it, even if you don't understand it." Benlet was reviewing his own notes on Deep Space Nine, on the other side of the screen. "Why are you in Starfleet, anyway? I know," he said quickly, forestalling the 'have you been listening' look before it started. "you want to be Ship's Historian, but why? If you're so bad at everything but history, why do you want to be in Starfleet?"
"I don't know anymore..." Francis really thought for the first time about why she applied in the first place. "I always wanted to be in Starfleet, but I guess I never thought that I wouldn't be good at it. It seems stupid, going into something that I wasn't good at in the twentieth century, now, when everything is so much more complicated. It's just always been my dream, even before I came here."
"Well, I know that feeling. I wanted to be the Emissary. Don't laugh." Francis had let out a giggle from the Academy, "I really did. I used to pretend to be Captain Sisko all the time. Now, I know that I couldn't have done a better job than he does."
"Yeah." Francis giggled, picturing Benlet as the Emissary. "No kidding." There was a pause in the conversation, then, and Frances heard the doorbell of her quarters sound. "One sec." She got up, abandoning the pads, and went to the door, opening it. She blinked; surely she was dreaming. Why was Professor Icheb at her door?
"You forgot this." He handed her a pad. Frances looked at it; it was the warp drive pad that she'd lost.
"Thanks, I need this." She flushed slightly, looking up. Icheb's gaze was going past her, to Benlet, waiting for her to come back.
"Perhaps, you should be studying, rather than socializing."
"I am studying. I just don't get it; he's helping me." Frances thought back to the twentieth century, when her dad had used to have two- hour study periods every night. They had been useful when she had a lot of homework, but a nuisance when she didn't. I'm going to have to make a two- hour study period for myself, if I have any hope of getting through this.
"Miss. Henry." Icheb's gaze was focused on her, but he seemed confused. "If you don't 'get it', why are you in Starfleet Academy?"
"I want to be Ship's Historian."
"Ah. Well." Icheb seemed at a loss for words, and Frances had the insane notion to giggle madly. She didn't, though her lip twitched slightly. "Well," he continued, "then, I hope you 'get it' soon."
"Thank you." Icheb backed out of the door. He was flustered, though he didn't know why. He walked back to his own quarters, and entered, leaning heavily against the bulkhead. He closed his eyes for a second. There was a slight humming, that Icheb heard, when his thoughts went blank.
The Brunali opened his eyes, to see Q2 playing with a medical tricorder, clad in a medical officer's uniform.
"Hmmm." The Q looked down at the readings. "Accelerated heat rate, and pulse, high heat levels near the skin." Q2 put his wrist to Icheb's forehead. "You have a fever, you'd better call off classes tomorrow." He said this in all seriousness. Icheb glared at the Q who had been his friend and constant companion since the Delta Quadrant (whether he liked it or not).
"I do not have a fever. I am fine." Icheb walked a perfectly straight line, past Q2, to the bedroom part of his quarters. He looked down at Q2, lounging on the bed, and shook his head. "I am not canceling classes tomorrow." He went over to the closet, to pull out some pajamas to wear, only to find he was pulling out a uniform and that he was wearing pajamas already. "Q, I wish you wouldn't do that."
"Do what?" Q2 asked innocently from the bed. Icheb turned around, not in the least impressed by Q2's lack of attire. In the nanosecond it had taken the Q to change what Icheb was wearing, he had also changed what he was wearing. The uniform was gone, replaced by red silk boxers.
"Q2,"
"Q-ball." Icheb sighed, then firmly repeated what he'd said.
"Q2, I am fully aware of the way humanoids fraternize. You have also attempt to make sexual overtures before." Q frowned, then snapped his fingers, and returned them both to what they had been wearing. "Q, I know you're going to watch when I change."
"So?"
"Is sex really the only think about?"
"Yeah, I'm a teenager. Don't you think about sex?"
"No, not really." Icheb once more reached for his pajamas. This time he pulled them out safely.
"No wonder you're so grouchy." Q2's words hung in the air, even after he snapped himself out of that dimension.
A/N: I have been having people ask me about Frances' apparent complete lack of remorse when it comes to her family being dead. Keep in mind: She has been in the twenty-fourth century for almost a year. It's not that she doesn't care; she finished mourning. Um... also, forgive me if I use the wrong terms for things. The episodes I saw, I saw a long time ago. This fanfic is actually overdue by about a year. But now: To the Bat Cave!!!
Frances tapped the edge of her pad angrily, while Benlet tried to explain the basis behind warp theory. "I don't get this." She said, tossing away the pad. Her thoughts kept wandering, which didn't help. She couldn't help wondering where her functional warp drive pad had gone. She thought back to every classroom and lecture hall she had visited that day, and couldn't imagine where she'd lost it.
"I know, but if you want to get into Starfleet, you're going to have to memorize it, even if you don't understand it." Benlet was reviewing his own notes on Deep Space Nine, on the other side of the screen. "Why are you in Starfleet, anyway? I know," he said quickly, forestalling the 'have you been listening' look before it started. "you want to be Ship's Historian, but why? If you're so bad at everything but history, why do you want to be in Starfleet?"
"I don't know anymore..." Francis really thought for the first time about why she applied in the first place. "I always wanted to be in Starfleet, but I guess I never thought that I wouldn't be good at it. It seems stupid, going into something that I wasn't good at in the twentieth century, now, when everything is so much more complicated. It's just always been my dream, even before I came here."
"Well, I know that feeling. I wanted to be the Emissary. Don't laugh." Francis had let out a giggle from the Academy, "I really did. I used to pretend to be Captain Sisko all the time. Now, I know that I couldn't have done a better job than he does."
"Yeah." Francis giggled, picturing Benlet as the Emissary. "No kidding." There was a pause in the conversation, then, and Frances heard the doorbell of her quarters sound. "One sec." She got up, abandoning the pads, and went to the door, opening it. She blinked; surely she was dreaming. Why was Professor Icheb at her door?
"You forgot this." He handed her a pad. Frances looked at it; it was the warp drive pad that she'd lost.
"Thanks, I need this." She flushed slightly, looking up. Icheb's gaze was going past her, to Benlet, waiting for her to come back.
"Perhaps, you should be studying, rather than socializing."
"I am studying. I just don't get it; he's helping me." Frances thought back to the twentieth century, when her dad had used to have two- hour study periods every night. They had been useful when she had a lot of homework, but a nuisance when she didn't. I'm going to have to make a two- hour study period for myself, if I have any hope of getting through this.
"Miss. Henry." Icheb's gaze was focused on her, but he seemed confused. "If you don't 'get it', why are you in Starfleet Academy?"
"I want to be Ship's Historian."
"Ah. Well." Icheb seemed at a loss for words, and Frances had the insane notion to giggle madly. She didn't, though her lip twitched slightly. "Well," he continued, "then, I hope you 'get it' soon."
"Thank you." Icheb backed out of the door. He was flustered, though he didn't know why. He walked back to his own quarters, and entered, leaning heavily against the bulkhead. He closed his eyes for a second. There was a slight humming, that Icheb heard, when his thoughts went blank.
The Brunali opened his eyes, to see Q2 playing with a medical tricorder, clad in a medical officer's uniform.
"Hmmm." The Q looked down at the readings. "Accelerated heat rate, and pulse, high heat levels near the skin." Q2 put his wrist to Icheb's forehead. "You have a fever, you'd better call off classes tomorrow." He said this in all seriousness. Icheb glared at the Q who had been his friend and constant companion since the Delta Quadrant (whether he liked it or not).
"I do not have a fever. I am fine." Icheb walked a perfectly straight line, past Q2, to the bedroom part of his quarters. He looked down at Q2, lounging on the bed, and shook his head. "I am not canceling classes tomorrow." He went over to the closet, to pull out some pajamas to wear, only to find he was pulling out a uniform and that he was wearing pajamas already. "Q, I wish you wouldn't do that."
"Do what?" Q2 asked innocently from the bed. Icheb turned around, not in the least impressed by Q2's lack of attire. In the nanosecond it had taken the Q to change what Icheb was wearing, he had also changed what he was wearing. The uniform was gone, replaced by red silk boxers.
"Q2,"
"Q-ball." Icheb sighed, then firmly repeated what he'd said.
"Q2, I am fully aware of the way humanoids fraternize. You have also attempt to make sexual overtures before." Q frowned, then snapped his fingers, and returned them both to what they had been wearing. "Q, I know you're going to watch when I change."
"So?"
"Is sex really the only think about?"
"Yeah, I'm a teenager. Don't you think about sex?"
"No, not really." Icheb once more reached for his pajamas. This time he pulled them out safely.
"No wonder you're so grouchy." Q2's words hung in the air, even after he snapped himself out of that dimension.