Author's Note: From the very bottom of my heart, thank you for all your support of this series.
Sorry it's been about 10 days since our last instalment. My head has been wrapped up with events to come in this story and I've found myself focused on writing some of these later chapters. Eek! My heart. These two…*sigh*
We are a very long way off from this - but I've been working on le baby (c'mon, you know it's coming) and my heart just wants to burst.
I am so thrilled to finally incorporate Lwaxana! She's a joy to write and lights up any scene in which she makes an appearance. I think she brings a much needed 'spice' to the crew. Don't worry – "Haven" is still going to happen and we'll see plenty more of her in later instalments of this story.
As always, feel free to join me on Trek Twitter TheTartanTart.
"What are you doing here, mother?" Deanna demanded.
Oh relax, Little One. Deanna heard her say inside her mind.
"I've been on Earth for a Federation negotiated conference representing Betazed," Lwaxana explained aloud. "Since the Enterprise is heading off to the Jarada sector, I figured I'd travel this way until we reach Starbase 121. Give us a chance to spend a little time together."
Don't groan. Lwaxana warned Deanna telepathically. I can read just how excited you are. Come now, it won't be that bad.
A few metres away, Worf was enveloped in a warm embrace from his parents.
Sergey was a burly man with a striking silver beard. Helena was surprisingly petite, completely dwarfed by her Klingon son.
"When do we get to see the Engine room? Eh?" Sergey asked excitedly.
Worf cleared his throat.
"That section is off limits to guests, father," Worf replied.
He tried to break his mother's embrace, but Helena wasn't letting go.
"Indulge me, Worf," she said as she smiled up at him. "It has been too long."
After a few moments, she broke away and turned to grab a box the two had brought onboard.
"I made Rokeg Blood Pie, Bregit lung with Grapok sauce, and blinis with heart of Targ," Helena informed him. "And your Babushka has made you a special batch of Rugelach."
Worf grinned.
"I don't know what they are serving you, but when your father was posted to the Intrepid I always had to make sure he ate enough," Helena said. "Rozhenko men have always had big appetites."
Worf blushed as she patted his stomach.
"Are you eating enough?" Helena asked, concerned.
"Of course he is!" Sergey said. "Look at how much he has grown."
Sergey gripped Worf's bicep proudly and beamed.
"A tribute to Starfleet," Sergey proclaimed.
It was clear that the Rozhenko's were incredibly proud of their son and warm, affectionate people.
"Allow me to introduce my parents, Sergey and Helena Rozhenko," Worf said as he turned to Tasha. "Lieutenant Yar has kindly agreed to escort you on a tour of the ship."
"You are Natasha?" Helena asked.
She didn't wait for an answer before pulling Tasha into a tight hug.
"Worf has told us so much about you," Helena explained. "It is nice to finally meet you."
For her petite size, Helena Rozhenko was surprisingly strong.
"Likewise," Tasha said with a genuine smile.
Although Worf largely kept his personal life to himself, he had shared considerably more details with Tasha than the rest of the crew. She knew the Rozhenko's had taken him in at an early age following the death of his parents on Khitomer.
She also understood that Worf cared deeply for his adoptive family.
Before she knew what was happening, Tasha found herself pulled into another hug – this time from Sergey Rozhenko.
"Natasha!" he said as he released her. "Good strong Russian name."
He beamed as he gripped her shoulders.
"A bit twiggy. More so than I expected," Sergey said.
Tasha stiffened as he gripped her bicep.
"Ah! There is muscle," Sergey added with a grin. "But still quite skinny for our winters. Not to worry, Helena's cooking will soon fix that."
"Father, please," Worf cautioned.
To Worf's horror, Sergey spun Tasha around as he looked her up and down.
"And after the first two or three babies you will fill out," he said. "Rozhenko babies have always been plump and happy."
Babies? Tasha mouthed to Worf.
Worf was mortified.
Worf was so utterly embarrassed that he found himself at a loss for words.
"Erm," Tasha stuttered, unsure of how to clear up the misunderstanding.
Tasha caught Deanna's eye as the Counsellor escorted her mother out of the Transporter Room. Normally, Deanna would know just what to say to clear up the misunderstanding. However, she was presently occupied with her own problem – namely one Lwaxana Troi.
"Sergey, Natasha and Worf are friends," Helena said in her smooth voice, intervening before Sergey could go any further. "And only friends."
Sergey took a step back.
"Then you and my Worf and not-" Sergey began.
He trailed off as he glanced between the two of them.
"Uh, no," Tasha laughed uncomfortably.
Sergey nodded in understanding. A second later, his face dropped.
"Why? What is wrong with him?" Sergey asked as his brow furrowed.
"Eh, nothing," Tasha responded, confused.
"Then why are you not interested in him? Huh?" Sergey pressed. "Worf is a Starfleet officer and a very handsome man."
Sergey stepped over and threw his arm around Worf. He'd always been fiercely proud of his son and knew just what kind of discrimination Worf had faced among the human children he'd grown up with.
Helena sighed and shook her head.
"No, no, Sergey," Helena assured him before repeating. "Worf and Natasha are friends."
"And he would make a good husband, no?" Sergey replied.
"Today would be a good day to die," Worf said under his breath, desperate for the awkward moment to be over.
Tasha couldn't help but grin.
"I agree, I'm sure Worf will make someone very happy. Someday," Tasha said.
Sergey opened his mouth, but Worf beat him to it.
"Lieutenant Yar is in a relationship, father," Worf said through gritted teeth.
"Oh!" Sergey said. "Then I must ask for your forgiveness."
"It's quite alright," Tasha assured them.
Tasha motioned toward the door.
"Would you like to see the ship?" she asked brightly.
Sergey and Helena stepped out into the corridor. As soon as they were behind them, Tasha turned back to Worf and mouthed 'babies' again before covering her mouth to disguise her giggle.
Worf's shoulders slumped.
It was going to be a long day.
While Tasha guided Worf's parents around the ship, Deanna was trying to find ways to keep her mother occupied.
"These are the guest quarters, mother. I am sure you and Mr Homm will find them quite comfortable," Deanna said with a tight smile.
"They'll suffice," Lwaxana said. "Small. But then again, I don't intend to spend much time in here."
Deanna fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"Oh come now," Lwaxana said, chastising her as she read her daughter's thoughts.
"Mother!" Deanna protested.
Lwaxana took a seat in front of the vanity and began to primp her hair.
"I don't meddle," Lwaxana insisted as she adjusted the elaborate hair clip.
"You don't know how not to meddle," Deanna replied.
Lwaxana clicked her tongue as she waved off her daughter. In the mirror, she could see Deanna cross her arms, sulking.
Lwaxana turned around and took hold of her daughter's hands.
"As a senior Ambassador, highly skilled telepath, and mother," Lwaxana said. "I have a certain interest in ensuring my little one is happy."
The relationship between the two was complicated – Lwaxana could be overbearing and certainly had high expectations for her daughter. In some ways, she had pushed Betazed tradition onto Deanna with an obsessive tenacity that had left her daughter feeling, at times, suffocated.
However, Lwaxana also fiercely loved her daughter and had been her biggest supporter when Deanna decided to join Starfleet.
"When do I get to meet all your friends? Hmm?" Lwaxana pressed. "I've been so looking forward to it. What about your girl's night? Isn't that tonight?"
Deanna did her best to hide her shock at her mother's forwardness.
"Well, it's not really the kind of thing that-" Deanna began.
Lwaxana got up and strolled over to her luggage.
"Say no more, I understand," she pouted. "I'm just your mother and I've ruined your little evening."
Deanna rolled her eyes.
"You know that's not what I meant," Deanna replied sharply.
She hated whenever Lwaxana tried to guilt her into things – mostly because it usually worked.
So Deanna tried a little manipulation of her own.
"There is so much to do on this ship, mother," Deanna said. "Why don't I show you some of our amenities?"
Between the spa, holodeck, and Ten Forward, Deanna was certain she could find something – or someone – to occupy her mother's attention for a few hours.
"So we drop out of Warp and find that there are three Antaran ships waiting behind the moon," Sergey described. "They open fire and Commander Brown was injured. So Captain Deighen says 'Rozhenko, we need to you to stay on the Bridge and man Tactical.' I say OK. But in my mind, I am thinking, 'I am just here for routine maintenance and Helena will have my head if I am late for dinner!"
"Worf was so excited when Sergey came home that night," Helena told them. "So many questions about being on the Bridge."
"And he never stopped talking about wanting to join Starfleet after that," Sergey said proudly.
"Mother, father, please. Enough stories," Worf said quietly.
For the last thirty minutes, the Rozhenko's had been on the Bridge sharing stories about Worf's childhood and Sergey's service in Starfleet. To Worf's chagrin, the crew seemed enthralled – even Captain Picard.
"How long did he speak?" Data inquired.
Helena looked at Data, failing to understand the question.
"For what length of time did he continue to speak on the subject?" Data asked, eager for an answer.
He knew that humans were capable of talking at length.
"I must confess that I find both humanoid behaviour and parenthood fascinating," Data confessed. "So I am curious how long Worf as a child was capable of speaking about a particular subject before rest required him to stop."
Helena bit back a grin.
"When a child is excited, there is nothing that can compel them to stop," Helena replied with a smile.
Data opened his mouth to follow up but stopped when he saw Tasha mouth 'later.'
The doors to the turbolift opened and the two Troi women stepped off onto the Bridge.
"Most intriguing," Data said in response to Helena.
He caught Tasha's eye and the two shared a small smile.
"And this is the Bridge, mother," Deanna said as she motioned to the space.
"You aren't the only one," Helena said as she spied the Trois.
She took hold of Worf's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She could sense he was still feeling uncomfortable by their visit.
"See, little one," Lwaxana said as she pulled Deanna close. "Other officers have their family visit."
She extended her hand to the Rozhenko's.
"Lwaxana Troi, Daughter of the Fifth House, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, and Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed," Lwaxana introduced herself.
"Sergey and Helena Rozhenko," Helena replied.
"I visited Betazed once," Sergey said. "During my time in Starfleet."
"And I can tell you had a good time," Lwaxana replied knowingly.
The three shared a laugh while Worf and Deanna looked at one another, both understandably frustrated by their parents' presence on the Bridge.
"I take it your son feels much like my little one," Lwaxana said as she eyed Worf. "They never want you to come, but then they beg you not to leave."
There was a nugget of truth in her statement. Worf certainly was grateful to spend time with his family – he just wished they could do so without the grand tour or stories.
"Sometimes makes me think I want another one," Lwaxana confessed.
"I know what you mean," Sergey replied.
Helena rolled her eyes.
"Don't start," she said. "The last time he got broody, I told him 'no more babies.' So what does he do? He came home with one and says look what I have brought you."
She turned and gave Worf a squeeze.
"And he was the cutest little Klingon you have ever seen," Helena said. "Six years old and so serious."
"We must be going," Worf said quickly. "We have taken up too much of the Captain's time."
He took hold of his mother's arm and tried to steer her toward the nearest turbolift.
"Hopefully we'll be seeing more of you," Riker said as they left the Bridge.
"Commander Riker!" Lwaxana called out as she rushed over to him. "It is so good to see you again."
She turned toward the Captain.
"And you must be the Captain," Lwaxana said.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Troi," Captain Picard said with a courteous nod.
"I imagine it would be," Lwaxana replied flirtatiously.
Captain Picard wasn't quite sure what to say in response.
Commander Riker watched with anticipation – he'd been looking forward to this moment ever since he had heard word that Lwaxana Troi was beaming aboard for transport. He knew just what kind of a woman she was and how that would set the Captain on edge. Will was looking forward to their trip to the Jarada sector with Lwaxana on board.
When an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. Will mused to himself.
"We're heading to the Arboretum and then lunch at Ten Forward," Tasha offered as she passed Data. "If you want to join?"
"I will see you there," Data said with a quick nod.
"You do not have to stay," Worf said.
Their tour of the Arboretum complete, they were now in Ten Forward. Tasha and Worf were standing at the bar.
"Worf?" Tasha asked as she looked at him. "I can go if you want. But I think your parents are really sweet."
She glanced back at the table where Sergey and Helena were sitting near the window.
"They care about you. A lot," Tasha said.
She was beginning to get annoyed at his grumpy attitude. It was evident the Rozhenko's loved him dearly. And while she could understand that he liked to keep his personal life private, they hadn't done or said anything that could be considered embarrassing.
"It was very kind of you to tolerate my father's stories for as long as you did," Worf said.
Tasha smacked his arm.
"I happen to think he's a fun guy," Tasha said defensively. "C'mon, Worf. He's seen a lot during his time in Starfleet. It's interesting stuff."
Worf grumbled in response.
"And frankly, I don't understand why you can't see that when everyone else can," Tasha said gruffly.
Guinan arrived at the bar with a tray of meals.
"Thanks," Tasha said as she took the tray from her.
"You wouldn't understand," Worf mumbled.
"You're right," Tasha replied in a frosty tone. "I wouldn't."
She shot Worf a disapproving glare and then set off to their table.
Worf slumped into the nearest chair and swirled his glass of prune juice in silence.
"You're right, you know," Guinan said as she set to work clearing the glasses left from a patron that had just left.
Worf looked up from his drink.
"She wouldn't understand. You're right," Guinan went on.
"Natasha, we wanted to ask you a question about Worf," Sergey said quietly.
He glanced over at the bar and then back to Tasha.
"You are his friend, no?" Sergey asked.
Tasha nodded.
Sergey and Helena looked at one another. His brow furrowed and she sighed.
"Worf has always enjoyed solitude," Helena began.
"And we have no desire to rush him," Sergey went on.
"But we wanted to know if he is happy," Helena went on. "If he has found someone."
"Oh," Tasha said.
Her eyebrows shot up as she got the meaning of their question.
"Um, well he doesn't really like to speak about that part of himself," Tasha said.
It was an answer they had expected.
"But it's funny you should ask because I was wondering what you knew about someone named K'Ehleyr?" Tasha asked with a grin.
"I don't like having the memories of my childhood being a subject of amusement for the crew," Worf admitted.
Guinan nodded. She stopped wiping down the bar.
"You know I used to get so angry whenever my father would tell the story of the time when I was very young and refused to wear clothes," Guinan explained. "No matter what they did or tried, I always found a way to get out of them."
She grabbed a pitcher and refilled his prune juice.
"In fact, I got so angry when he told that story at my 100th birthday that I ran away from home and stayed away for about sixty years," Guinan said.
Guinan set down the cloth she'd been using and stepped over to Worf.
"When I came back, my father told me that the reason he recounted that story so often wasn't to embarrass me," Guinan told him. "It wasn't just funny. He was proud of me. That even at such a young age I had demonstrated determination and resourcefulness. He said he knew then and there that I was going to be trouble. Just like him."
She smiled.
"And years later, when I had my first child – a feisty little ball of energy that refused to listen, I understood," Guinan shared.
"I know they are proud of me," Worf insisted.
He glanced over his shoulder at the table back to the table where Tasha was laughing with his parents. Data had joined them. While not laughing, he was smiling politely at whatever had been said.
"I just wish they wouldn't encourage him so much," Worf growled as he turned back to the bar. "She doesn't understand that my father doesn't need any more encouragement."
With a huff, he took a long drink from his glass.
"Like I said, you are right," Guinan repeated. "She doesn't understand."
On the other end of the lounge, both Data and Tasha were listening intently to Sergey's stories.
"What the Romulans did to your Klingon parents was awful. And I'm not saying it's been easy for you," Guinan said.
Worf suddenly felt uncomfortable under her stare. Guinan had a way of getting under his skin like that and making him confront things he'd rather not.
"But those two lovely people offered you something a lot of children never got the opportunity to experience," Guinan said. "A loving home. Support. Hell, even the stories you don't like."
Worf looked down at his glass as the weight of her words washed over him.
"You don't like those memories. And that's fine," Guinan said softly. "But you have those memories."
A sinking feeling fell into the pit of Worf's stomach.
"And with all due respect, you don't understand how much someone like Wesley, or Tasha, or even Data wishes they had that experience," Guinan went on.
Worf set down his glass and took a deep breath.
"I must admit I am ashamed of my behaviour," Worf said.
"Don't apologise to me," Guinan said she indicated to his parents.
Worf nodded.
"Thank you," he said as he stepped away.
As he approached the table, he could hear his parents recounting one of his more infamous stories.
"So we walked into the school and we don't know what to expect," Sergey described. "Is Worf hurt? Is he in some kind of trouble? The door opens and there is our little seven-year-old sitting on a chair and glaring across the room at five teenage boys – all of them with bloody noses."
"And then the principal looked up and said, please tell me he's an only child," Helena laughed.
Tasha giggled.
"I know, you are wondering how it is possible that I still lose our sparring matches," Worf said as he slipped into the chair next to his mother.
From across the table, Worf and Tasha shared a glance with one another as he conveyed his apologies.
Wordlessly, she knew that he was feeling guilty, and he knew that all was forgiven.
"Once we are finished here, would you like to see the Engineering section?" Worf asked.
"We do not want you to get into trouble," Sergey replied.
"The Chief Engineer is a friend," Worf replied.
"Three days," Worf assured his mother.
She had been holding him in a tight embrace for the last minute and a half.
"Three days," Helena repeated.
"As soon as the reunion is done, I will beam down to the station in Babryusk," Worf promised.
"We will be ready," Sergey said as he clapped Worf on the back. "I'll pick you up outside of the café on the North side."
One with one final squeeze, Helena let go of her son.
"We will see you then," she said.
Sergey moved to shake Data's hand and thanked him for the in-depth tour of the Engineering section. The two had spent nearly three hours combing through specs of the ship and Sergey had been ecstatic to find someone willing to discuss the finer points of propulsion systems.
Tasha made to shake Helena's hand, but the shorter woman pulled her into a tight hug.
"You know you are more than welcome to join Worf and come stay with us," Helena offered.
She knew from Worf's letters that Tasha, like Worf, had been orphaned as a child and would not be visiting family.
"Mr Data too," Helena went on. "Sergey would welcome the company."
"That is very kind of you Mrs Rozhenko but-" Tasha started to say.
"Helena, please," Worf's mother insisted.
"It's an incredibly kind offer, Helena," Tasha said.
Truly, she was touched by the gesture.
And a part of her was certainly tempted by the offer. Not only were the Rozhenko's wonderfully warm people, the idea of spending time in a 'family' atmosphere had an appeal. In addition, Worf had shared many of his holodeck programmes of the area in and around Minsk with Tasha and she knew there would be plenty of sporting activities to sate her adventurous urges.
But there was nothing that could tear her away from the five days she had planned for Data.
"But you have plans," Helena finished for Tasha.
The look shared between the Security Chief and the Second Officer did not escape Helena's keen eyes.
"Good for you," Helena said with a wink.
Helena smiled and gave Tasha's hands a reassuring squeeze.
"Take care of my boy," Helena said.
"But don't let up on him in fighting those holodeck monsters," Sergey added. "Keep him on his toes."
"Long day?" Beverly teased as she watched Deanna pour a large glass of wine.
Deanna returned the bottle to the ice bucket and sat back in her chair.
The Counsellor sighed and put her hand over her eyes.
"You have no idea," Deanna said.
Deanna began to massage her temples. The psychic strain of the day had taken its toll.
"It's one thing to have your family visit," Deanna explained. "It's another thing when they can read your thoughts. I feel like I have no privacy."
It was oppressive.
"She knows. Before I can even say it," Deanna said, bemoaning her mother's telepathic abilities. "There's no hiding anything."
It had been this way since her youth. Deanna was an open person. It was part of her Betazed culture. But there was something freeing about surrounding herself with predominantly human companions.
Beverly reached across the table and took hold of Deanna's hand.
"Oh honey, I'm sorry it must be difficult," Beverly said as she sympathised with Deanna.
"It's just nice to finally have some time away from-" Deanna started.
"Yoo hoo!" A voice called out as the door to Deanna's quarters slid open.
"My mother," Deanna grumbled.
Lwaxana Troi swept into Deanna's quarters and sat down in an open chair at the table.
"Well, what kind of hell are we going to raise tonight, ladies?" Lwaxana asked.
She folded her hands and looked around the table expectantly.
Oh don't give me that look, little one. I'll behave. Deanna heard her mother's voice say in her head.
Mother. I asked you not to come. Deanna responded.
And miss this? Lwaxana pressed.
Deanna was flabbergasted.
While Deanna and Lwaxana went back and forth with one another, Beverly and Tasha sat patiently in silence.
Beverly sat back and casually took a sip of her wine.
Meanwhile, Tasha tried to covertly study both women's reactions.
"I don't want to crash this family moment, but if you two need a minute alone-" Tasha began to say.
Deanna squeezed Beverly's hand tightly signalling that the last thing she wanted was for them to leave.
"Noooo," Lwaxana said as she gripped Tasha's wrist. "I've been waiting ages to meet Deanna's friends."
Lwaxana beamed as Deanna frowned.
"Boring," Lwaxana announced.
For the last thirty minutes, Lwaxana had been casually picking at her fingernails as the other three women played a familiar dice game and chatted casually.
"It's so stuffy in here," Lwaxana said as she fanned herself.
"If you aren't enjoying this, I am certain you can find something else to amuse you, mother," Deanna said.
Lwaxana shook her head. She furrowed her brow and turned away from the table.
All of a sudden, Lwaxana sat up and looked as if she had experienced some kind of revelation.
"That's it," she said.
Lwaxana clutched her forehead.
"Mrs Troi?" Beverly prompted. "Is there something wrong?"
"Yes!" Lwaxana exclaimed.
Beverly reached down and fished her tricorder out of the jacket she had slung over the back of the chair.
"No, no," Lwaxana said as she waved off the doctor.
The three friends exchanged a confused glance.
"What is it?" Beverly asked.
"It's you," Lwaxana replied.
Beverly's eyebrows shot up.
Lwaxana opened her eyes and looked around at the three women.
"It's the three of you," Lwaxana clarified.
"Mother, please," Deanna cautioned.
She wasn't sure where her mother was going with this, but she suspected it wasn't something that Beverly or Tasha would appreciate.
"The three of you are all putting up these unnecessary barriers," Lwaxana explained.
Deanna bit her tongue as she tried to formulate the best way to respond.
"Mother, you're not a Counsellor and this is not the time for-" Deanna began.
"Which is why I'm the perfect person to say all the little things a Counsellor can't," Lwaxana said as she wiggled her eyebrows.
Don't mother. Deanna warned telepathically.
But I can help you, little one. Lwaxana replied.
"It is rude to use telepathy around non-telepaths, mother," Deanna said aloud.
"You started it," Lwaxana retorted.
Deanna let out an exasperated sigh. She glanced to Beverly and Tasha apologetically.
"You three need to loosen up," Lwaxana said knowingly.
"We would just like to play our game and enjoy our evening," Deanna said firmly.
She shot her mother a stern look.
Lwaxana put her hands up in surrender.
"I promise no telepathy," Lwaxana assured her.
"Will the three of you just relax already?" Lwaxana asked.
Lwaxana was resting her head back against the edge of the rocks. Her eyes were closed, and she was nursing a tall drink.
They four of them were on the holodeck sitting in the mineral hot spring spa found in Betazed's capital city.
Deanna was on edge, bothered by her mother's presence.
For her part, Beverly was feeling nervous about the days ahead – Wesley's tour of Starfleet Academy, her award ceremony, and her lecture on the polywater intoxication.
Tasha was sitting on the edge of the pool, wrapped tightly in a coverup, and dangling her feet in the water.
Sure, a part of her wanted to soak more than just her feet.
But Deanna's mother had been full of questions.
And while Tasha had no embarrassment about the scars she bore from Turkana, she didn't want to field questions about them.
"Your Captain is quite fetching," Lwaxana commented. "I'm thinking of having Mr Homm prepare a dinner for two after your Starfleet reunion is done."
Beverly grinned and took a long sip from the straw in her drink.
"I don't think that would be appropriate, mother," Deanna said.
"He sure is a handsome man," Lwaxana went on. "Too handsome to be single."
Deanna threw her head back and growled in agitation.
"It's a crime," Lwaxana continued.
Tasha choked out a laugh. She coughed in an attempt to disguise it.
"Exactly the kind of thing I'm perfectly equipped to deal with," Lwaxana concluded.
Beverly felt that it was necessary to step in.
"The Captain isn't really the type of man that is into relationships," Beverly said, attempting to dissuade Lwaxana.
Her motivations for such a statement weren't entirely personal. Beverly knew that Jean-Luc would rather spend his evening in solitude than a dinner with Mrs Troi.
He so rarely got time to himself. And Jean-Luc was never one to enjoy the trappings of office. Diplomatic functions were a chore.
In fact, she knew that he was looking forward to spending a few days on his own just so he could get away from it all.
"Perhaps a quiet walk in your arboretum after dinner?" Lwaxana pondered aloud.
She didn't need her telepathic abilities to sense Beverly's reaction – the shift in the water, the sharp inhale of trepidation.
"Mrs Troi, the Captain generally prefers, eh, privacy," Beverly explained.
"He likes to keep to himself," Tasha added, hoping to help.
Lwaxana knew this. She'd sensed it within the first few seconds of meeting Captain Picard.
She knew he was the type of man that appreciated philosophy and discovery. He was driven by a need to explore the world, an endless pursuit of knowledge. And she knew that he needed time alone to recharge his batteries.
His alone time was precious.
But Lwaxana had also sensed that underneath all of that was a man that had spent years alone. Though she hadn't had time to ascertain all of the details, Lwaxana had managed to pick up on some key takeaways.
The Captain had a strained relationship with his family and struggled to open up to others. However, he harboured a deep care for his Bridge crew – particularly the good doctor and her son. He viewed the boy like a son and her as his closest friend.
But there was more.
Feelings.
Long-repressed feelings.
A mutual attraction that had sat buried just under the surface for a long time.
Lwaxana was able to pick up on all of this in just a few minutes. The way they looked at one another and their sense of familiarity was all too telling.
And Lwaxana knew that Jean-Luc Picard needed a little push, a reminder that he was worthy of love, it was perfectly acceptable to act on those feelings, and to appreciate a certain someone that had been there for years.
"Espra cheese fondue can be a particularly erotic dinner experience," Lwaxana remarked.
"Mrs Troi," Beverly said in a tone that indicated just a hint of exasperation. "The Captain has so little free time that he-"
"That he would rather spend in the company of someone that is content to share a glass of wine and good book in silence," Lwaxana finished for her.
For a moment, no one said anything. Beverly took a nervous sip of her drink. Deanna held her breath. Tasha circled her foot in the water, unsure of what to say.
"You're afraid to take the next step because you're carrying the weight of a past relationship as a burden rather than a beautiful memory," Lwaxana said as she indicated to Beverly with her hand.
Get out of her head, mother. Deanna growled telepathically.
"You promised," Deanna said aloud.
Lwaxana chuckled.
"I didn't need telepathy to figure that out, little one," Lwaxana said. "I pieced that together from my time on the Bridge and your earlier conversation."
Beverly wasn't sure how to respond.
"Oh, it's obvious!" Lwaxana went on.
Beverly looked at Tasha and Deanna, completely aghast.
Had she really been that obvious?
Did everyone know?
"Just as obvious as Deanna's feelings for Will," Lwaxana concluded. "Despite what you say, little one, you're still hung up on him."
"Mother!" Deanna snapped.
"That's not telepathy," Lwaxana said nonchalantly. "That's common sense and a mother's observational skills. I've always been perceptive."
She was a diplomat. It was in her nature.
Lwaxana was still resting her head on the back of the rocks, casual, and seemingly unaffected by the highly personal nature of what she was saying.
"You're worried about Will Riker losing a part of himself to a relationship," Lwaxana went on. "But he's far more emotionally mature now than he was back on Betazed."
Humans matured later than Betazeds – particularly men. Having had her own relationship with a human, Lwaxana understood Deanna's concerns intimately.
"There's a reason you can't say goodbye to him," Lwaxana chided. "And you shouldn't ignore it."
"We are not having this conversation," Deanna asserted.
Lwaxana sat up and grabbed her drink from the rock ledge. She swirled the contents around before taking a sip and returning it back to its resting place.
"The one thing I'm still unsure of without my telepathic powers is which one bit you?" Lwaxana asked as she turned to Tasha.
Tasha was confused.
"I-I don't-" she started to say.
"Was it big and surly or tall, dark, and tin can-some?" Lwaxana asked eagerly.
"Mother, please," Deanna said through gritted teeth.
She'd had enough of this and could sense just how uncomfortable Tasha was.
"No need to be embarrassed," Lwaxana assured her.
Don't press it, mother. Deanna warned telepathically.
"It's rude to communicate telepathically in front of non-telepaths, little one," Lwaxana said, echoing Deanna's earlier statement.
Deanna glared across the pool at her mother.
"So, which one was it? Hmm?" Lwaxana pressed.
Tasha's face contorted.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Tasha said in earnest.
Lwaxana gave her a knowing look.
"Mr Wolf? What a specimen of a man. All those biceps? That stoic, lone warrior energy," Lwaxana said in a hungry voice. "The testosterone."
Tasha blinked in bewilderment.
"Tasha it's perfectly normal for friends to experience attraction on a subconscious level," Deanna offered.
She had sensed that Tasha was feeling awkward about her mother's question.
Tasha turned from one Troi to the other and shook her head at Deanna.
"No!" Tasha insisted.
"You see I saw you with his parents," Lwaxana explained. "First time meeting mom and dad, I take it?"
Tasha wanted to laugh. It was all so obscure.
"But then on the Bridge I met Mr Data. He's fascinating," Lwaxana remarked.
It was the truth.
She had never met anyone like Data. He was positively intriguing. Perhaps a little dull for Lwaxana's taste. She had never found trivial facts amusing and Data was certainly an endless well of knowledge on the subject.
But during their brief encounter on the Bridge, she had sensed there was more between the android Second Officer and Security Chief. There was a familiarity between the two, the kind of deep attraction that came from kindred souls.
"I must say the feelings I sensed between the two of you were intense. I can't blame you. Yummy. With a spoon," Lwaxana went on. "And I think you should sort those out before you and Mr Wolf move forward with the babies."
'Babies?' Beverly mouthed from across the pool.
'Later.' Tasha replied mouthed in response, subtly urging caution with the hand that was hidden from Lwaxana's view.
"Mrs Troi, I think you've gotten the proverbial wrong end of the stick," Tasha said with a shy grin. "Worf's father misunderstood. You see-"
"Ah! Then it was the android that bit you," Lwaxana said with interest.
Her black eyes lit up, curious for information.
"Nobody bit me," Tasha said awkwardly.
"Enough! You promised no telepathy," Deanna hissed at her mother.
She'd had quite enough of Lwaxana's antics, and she didn't want to drag Beverly or Tasha into it any further.
The two Trois were locked in the heat of a bitter argument.
"This is why I didn't want you here tonight," Deanna said in a harsh voice. "You gave me your word."
"I didn't use telepathy!" Lwaxana contended.
"You think rules don't apply to you!" Deanna argued.
Lwaxana rolled her eyes.
"I didn't use telepathy," she repeated slowly. "She's hiding a bite mark under that coverup."
"Nobody bit me," Tasha said in disbelief.
Deanna told Tasha to stay out of it while Lwaxana simultaneously shushed her.
Beverly and Tasha shrugged at one another from across the pool.
This conversation had gone horribly off the rails. Tasha had very few memories of her mother – she'd been far too young to have had this kind of relationship. And Beverly's mother had died long before the two could have experienced these kinds of arguments.
"I use my eyes and ears," Lwaxana explained. "I pieced together the clues."
"You can't shut it off," Deanna accused.
She knew this would happen. It was why she had spent all afternoon trying to find something else to entertain her mother, anything to keep her far away from her friends.
Tasha couldn't stand to see people arguing. She felt she had an obligation to intervene.
Suddenly, she was struck by an idea about how to diffuse the fight.
"Deanna, your mother is not using telepathy," Tasha said, raising her voice just enough to reach over the two other voices on the holodeck.
"See?" Lwaxana said, jumping in.
Deanna looked at Tasha in disappointment.
"I appreciate that you are trying to end this. And I'm sorry you both had to witness this disagreement," Deanna apologised. "But you don't need to feed her ego to do so."
Tasha pursed her lips.
"I'm not taking anyone's side," Tasha insisted. "You're both wrong. Your mother isn't using telepathy."
Deanna opened her mouth to protest, but Tasha anticipated the question.
"And I can prove it. She's wrong," Tasha explained.
Lwaxana's face fell.
"I'm not hiding any kind of 'love bite'," Tasha clarified. "And you know that's the truth, Deanna. You can sense it."
Deanna eyed Tasha sceptically.
She could sense that Tasha wasn't lying.
"But you are hiding something," Lwaxana said suddenly. "Why else would you sit up there instead of slipping into this water?"
Tasha undid the tie on her coverup and slipped it down over her shoulders.
In a flash, she stepped into the pool and sank down until the water was up to her chin.
"I don't like answering questions about my scars," Tasha confessed.
"Then we won't ask about them," Lwaxana replied simply.
She turned and looked back at Beverly and Deanna.
"Right ladies?" Lwaxana asked.
Tasha relaxed back against the rocks that lined the pool.
True to her word, Lwaxana hadn't asked any questions about Tasha's scars. And, in time, Tasha had grown more comfortable in the water.
"You see it took weeks to get there on this Betazoid transport ship. And you had been such an angel the whole time," Lwaxana explained. "But when we got there, you cried. And cried. And cried."
Lwaxana was sharing the story of Deanna's first meeting with her human grandparents.
"Your father still hadn't arrived. He was on the Carthage at that time," she went on. "And so, I had to meet your Grandma and Grandpa Andrew on my own."
Lwaxana stopped and took a sharp breath.
"And all they could do was comment about how because you were crying nonstop that you were just like your mother," Lwaxana went on.
Deanna looked at her confused.
"Because you wouldn't shut up," Lwaxana said with a smirk.
Deanna laughed.
They'd been drinking for a few hours, the tension of earlier having evaporated and everyone felt good.
"You know as a medical professional, I can't advise mixing alcohol and hot springs," Beverly said abruptly.
She looked around at the group seriously.
"We do have a big day tomorrow," Beverly said, looking surprisingly sombre.
Tasha glanced down at the whisky in her hand and bit her lip.
She was feeling quite minced.
And knew that she would pay for it in the morning.
The sound of a cough across the water pulled Tasha back from her thoughts.
Beverly clapped her hand over her mouth, attempting to choke back her laughter.
"So, who's up for another one then?" Lwaxana asked.
She reached for a small tray of drinks behind her. They were something sweet and fruity. Tasha wasn't exactly sure what they were.
But they were blue.
And they were tasty.
Beverly, Deanna, and Tasha broke into a fit of giggles.
"It's pretty late," Deanna commented.
"And we're intoxicated," Beverly added.
"I've made worse decisions," Tasha said with a shrug as she grabbed one of the shot glasses.
When Tasha reached her room shortly after midnight, she was grateful the lights were off.
She paused as there was an unfamiliar sound.
For a moment, she held her breath as she listened and tried to identify the source.
Tasha glanced down and realised it was the sound of her bathing costume dripping onto the carpet.
With a groan, she stumbled to the lavvy.
With considerable effort, Tasha stripped off the wet garment and hung it on the hook next to the shower.
She hissed when she jumped in, realising that although she had turned on the tap, she had failed to turn up the temperature.
Once the salt was free from her hair and the soap rinsed away, Tasha reached out to grab a towel from the hook.
She grasped at nothing.
Damn.
She forgot to grab a towel.
Tasha stepped out of the shower and tried to shake as much water from hair into the shower as she could. She would have to pad over the carpet again to the shelves in her main room to get one.
She wiped her eyes and turned to shut off the tap.
Tasha felt a towel draped over her head.
A second later, a pair of hands gently towelled her hair.
She turned back and peaked out from under the towel to find Data standing in front of her.
"Hey," she said with a sheepish grin.
"Hello," he replied.
Tasha secured the towel and went into the bedroom to change. After slipping into an oversized shirt and sleep shorts, Tasha noticed Data had set out a glass of cold water, a vitamin, and something she hadn't expected.
She picked up the glass and looked down at the contents.
There was a strong, pungent odour and it looked revolting.
"It is allegedly a cure for hangover," Data explained. "Raw egg, hot sauce, black pepper, vinegar, and Worcestershire sauce."
"Wahshus-" Tasha attempted to say. "Wosssur-"
She closed her eyes and tilted her head to the left. Tasha put up one finger and a pained look fell on her face.
"Wahss-" she trailed off on the 's.'
Tasha opened her eyes and looked at Data for help.
"Worcestershire," Data corrected.
"I can't pronounce that," Tasha replied.
Tasha took another sniff and gagged.
There was no way she was sleeping with that dreadful scent lingering near her pillow.
"I think you're supposed to drink it in the morning," Tasha said as she handed him the glass.
"Hmm," Data said with a short nod.
He took the glass out to the replicator and put it under a preservation field until it could be consumed later.
In study of human behaviour, Data had found that many purported hangover 'cures' were in fact nothing more than glorified placebos or remedies that treated the dehydration. However, Commander Riker had shared that such a cure had worked for him in the past.
They had a big day tomorrow and Data knew Tasha would be suffering from the aftereffects of her evening with her friends.
When he came back, Data climbed into bed. Tasha spooned up against his back.
"You aren't going to ask for hints? Try to use this to get information?" Tasha teased.
Data looked confused.
"No," Data replied. "That would be unethical."
Tasha giggled.
"A good detective would not use such an unfair advantage," Data explained.
"You're a good man," Tasha remarked as she snuggled against him.
True to her word, Tasha had kept their plans a complete secret. She had offered no clues as to where they were headed for their five days of leave.
"I must admit I am excited about the prospect of your surprise," Data confessed. "It is intriguing."
Data took the hand she had thrown around him and kissed the back of it.
Tasha grew uncharacteristically quiet.
"What is the matter?" Data asked, sensing her sudden change in attitude.
Tasha took a shaky breath.
"I'm just sorry I couldn't get you the leave you deserve," Tasha said. "I really want to take you to-"
"Tasha, stop," Data said.
He could tell this was a drunken confession.
"I mean, it's still going to be nice. I just wish I could have made London happen," Tasha lamented.
Data rolled over to face her.
"I am certain that whatever you have arranged is better than anything I could imagine," Data assured her. "Because you will be there."
It was late. And Captain Picard had no intention of disturbing the Crusher family.
He was standing outside of Beverly's door debating whether or not to leave his gift or simply walk away.
He didn't feel right about leaving it outside her door. There was no risk of it being swiped. But Jean-Luc had been hoping to deliver the gift in person as it created an opportunity to talk with Beverly.
However, now that he was standing here it seemed foolish to have come down and leave with no reason.
Since when do you need an excuse to talk with Beverly? A voice inside him said.
It was ridiculous.
He was the Captain of the Enterprise.
She was the Chief Medical Officer.
And they were old friends.
He was about to leave the package at the foot of her door when a voice stopped him.
"Jean-Luc?" Beverly asked.
He froze.
"Doctor," he said before clearing his throat and adding, "Beverly."
"This is unexpected," she said as she approached him.
He shifted uncomfortably, feeling embarrassed that he had been caught in the corridor outside of her quarters.
"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Jean-Luc inquired.
"Oh! Yes," Beverly replied.
"Great. That's," he paused. "Great."
A beat of silence passed.
"I'm really looking forward to it," Picard added.
He thrust the gift into her hands.
"Is this for me?" Beverly asked eagerly as she looked down at it.
Jean-Luc's eyes went wide. He'd been so desperate for something to distract from the awkwardness of the situation.
He realised he should have said something before presenting it. His failure to preface it had only amplified the clumsiness of his presentation.
"It's for Wesley," he said.
His voice was firm, attempting to mask his anxiety.
Beverly smiled and looked up at him, waiting for an explanation.
"It's a multitool. With a torch," he said.
"Oh," Beverly replied politely.
It was evident from her response that she didn't fully understand.
"Every Starfleet Academy cadet needs one," Picard explained. "Or should have one."
Beverly beamed.
"That was very thoughtful," she commented. "Thank you."
It was an essential tool for an Academy cadet that would come in handy for his training, classwork, and his first time living alone.
"I'm sure he'll be thrilled," Beverly assured him. "Especially since it came from you."
Jean-Luc couldn't hide his smile.
"Was there another reason you stopped by?" Beverly inquired.
She suspected there was.
And reflecting back on Lwaxana's words from earlier, a part of was hoping this would be an opportunity to start a conversation that had been on pause for nearly twenty years.
In her mind, the question was the initiation of such a conversation.
One didn't drop by a friend's room after midnight just to hover outside the door without a good reason.
"Just to say congratulations. For tomorrow," Picard said. "Well deserved, Beverly."
For a moment they held one another's gaze.
The words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue.
"Beverly," he began.
"Yes, Jean-Luc?" she asked softly.
He paused – his courage failing, his feet ready to retreat.
"Goodnight, Doctor," he said with a hint of sadness.
He waited a few seconds longer than necessary before turning and heading for the lift, leaving Beverly standing alone and confused in the corridor.
She closed her eyes and sighed.
Still dancing around each other. She lamented to herself.
Tasha tugged at the collar of her dress uniform. Despite the environmental controls, it was stifling in the auditorium. Her mouth was dry and the lights from the stage were far too bright.
Data's hangover 'cure' had been just awful in the morning as it had seemed the night before.
And Tasha was certain it had done more to unsettle her stomach than the alcohol had.
Data reached over and squeezed just above her knee reassuringly.
Deanna was sitting next to Tasha, doing her best to keep her mind focused. The atmosphere in the room was stuffy and it only compounded her splitting headache.
"There's a reason synthehol was invented," Will Riker whispered.
It was nothing compared to Beverly's experience. The lights weren't just blinding – they were hot.
She'd taken an anti-nausea hypospray before disembarking, but it did little to help with her nerves.
Nerves and hangovers were never a good combination.
Doctor Rutherford, the head of Starfleet Medical, had been prattling on about the Medical division's commitment to ingenuity.
"And that is why I am proud to name Doctor Beverly Crusher this year's recipient of the Leonard McCoy Medical Merit Award," Doctor Rutherford announced.
Several rows back, the crew of the Enterprise applauded along with the rest of the crowd – mostly medical professionals from various ships and brass from Starfleet Medical.
Beverly smiled and readily accepted her award, taking a polite bow as Doctor Rutherford passed her the plaque denoting her award.
When she finished her speech – short and to the point – everyone applauded once again. From the third row, Jean-Luc caught her eye and gave her a small nod.
"What about Henley's?" Riker suggested.
"It's too nice to be inside," Geordi commented. "And it's probably packed."
The senior officers were strolling around the campus of Starfleet Headquarters as they debated where to find lunch.
"I've got it," Geordi proclaimed as he snapped his fingers. "That Hasidic deli. It's not far. We could come back here. Watch the bay."
Tasha covered her face with her hand and glanced up at the sun.
Even with her sunglasses on, it was far too bright out. The breeze felt nice, but she knew it would be best to find somewhere with a cool shade.
"Angelo's?" Miles proposed.
A general murmur of approval went around the group.
"And it's a Tuesday, you know what that means!" Riker said with a gleam in his eye.
Miles, Geordi, and Worf laughed.
"Don't get carried away," Deanna cautioned.
"Do you recall Myrtle? The barkeep's wife?" Miles asked.
"Oh Myrtle! She was grand," Beverly replied.
"I remember back during my own Academy days that one could start Pint Night at any establishment on the block and always wind up at Angelo's sooner or later," Picard said fondly.
"Really, sir?" Geordi asked.
"Oh, Mr La Forge. Pint Night goes back decades," Picard explained. "Long before my time."
Tasha and Data looked at one another and shrugged.
She was clueless as he was.
"Inquiry? Pint Night?" Data questioned.
Riker nodded and dropped back next to Data.
"Right. Let me guess. You, my friend spent most of your Academy nights studying or working in the lab?" Riker asked.
Data cocked his head to the side as he calculated the breakdown of his Academy days.
"Of what could be considered my free time aside from classes, 31.7 percent was split between the exobiology and propulsion labs, 19.2 percent was spent as a member of the Starfleet Academy orchestra, 14.93 percent was in what I would classify general socialisation with fellow cadets, travel accounted for 12.7 percent, 9.5 percent as a member of the dormitory council, 7.52 percent as a member of the Starfleet Academy Intramural crew team, and 4.45 percent on an internship," Data concluded scientifically.
Tasha bit back a grin.
"I'm sure Lieutenant Yar can fill you in," Riker winked.
Tasha glanced over at Commander Riker over her sunglasses.
"That wasn't really my kind of thing," Tasha explained.
"Let me guess? You spent most of your time at the fitness centre," Riker speculated. "No, no. I've got it. Boxing club."
Tasha shot him a look.
"I spent most of my time out at the hanger," Tasha answered.
"The hanger? Are you referring to the antiquated airbase?" Data inquired.
His neural net was firing on all cylinders as he tried to theorise what the purpose could be behind regularly visiting that location.
"Rumour was that place was run by the Viper gang," Geordi countered. "Real underground."
"And the only thing that allegedly happened out at that old hanger was motorbike races," Riker said, confused.
"And stunt shows," Geordi added. "And fights."
"Yeah," Tasha said cryptically.
Data and Commander Riker exchanged a glance.
"Tasha?" Data asked.
"You know, I'm famished," she said with a smile, changing the subject.