London

Thursday 10th February 1994

Grapok winced as he fastened his uniform jacket. It had been just over a year since he'd last worn it and he didn't remember it being this tight. This was unacceptable, he told himself sternly; whatever decision was made today, he needed to lose the excess weight and regain his physical fitness. He'd allowed his combat readiness to slip as well, he admitted uncomfortably, and that too had to change.

"You're in uniform. Are you going out?" Grapok jumped. Lost in contemplation, he had not heard Maggie emerging from the bathroom. It was not that he had forgotten her presence – how could he after the night they had just shared? It was just that he was not used to having company. He could not even say that her presence here in his flat, in his bed, and in his heart, was a dream come true, because he had never allowed himself to even dream of it. And yet, here she was.

Her sudden declaration of love the previous day still made no sense to him. He was a member of the occupying forces, not even an officer but a common bekk, barely even that if he was honest. An overweight chef, significantly older than her, although this last he discarded as irrelevant thanks to the longer Klingon lifespan. He had nothing to offer her except his love. Still, she seemed to be happy with that and he did not have the strength to refuse her.

The evening shift had, he thought, been one of the longest of his life, the hours passing with interminable slowness until they'd been able to throw out the last customers, shut the restaurant and clean up ready for the following morning… and then… only then, had he been able to take her upstairs to his flat. In between cooking, preparing food, and serving at the bar, he'd kept his eyes on Maggie, so much so that it was perhaps inevitable that her brother had noticed. When Tom had pulled him aside, he'd tensed, expecting trouble, but the human had just laughed, asking Grapok what had taken him so long and offering to take the morning shift so the couple could have some time together. He'd been unsure about that, since the breakfast shift was predominantly Klingon, but Tom had insisted, saying he knew what he was doing and could cope and, in the end, he'd accepted with gratitude.

Bringing himself back to the present, Grapok turned, finding Maggie lounging against the bedroom door in a pose that he had no doubt was deliberately seductive. She was wearing… not a lot. One of his tunics covered her upper body, but far too large for her, it had slid to one side, revealing the smooth, creamy skin of her shoulder. Nor did it cover her legs… long slender legs… his breath caught and a low rumble escaped his throat as he remembered vividly how they had felt wrapped around his waist.

With some effort he pulled his gaze upwards, focusing on her hair. That was safe enough, wasn't it? Released from its usual messy bun, the water-darkened mass cascaded down her back, all but one errant strand that had fallen forward, trailing down that bare shoulder and ending in a little curl just above her breast.

"Yes… I…" YIntagh! How was he supposed to even think when she looked like that? The tone and pitch of his growl altered as he wordlessly expressed his frustration with himself. He tried again, this time with a little more success. "Yes, I must go to headquarters. I need to speak with my superiors. I do not think it will take long. Will you wait for me, Maggie-oy?

"I do need to go home," she told him, and seeing his disappointed look, she quickly added, "Just for some clean clothes. Why don't you meet me there? Besides…" A wicked smile lit up her face. "My bed is bigger and more comfortable than yours."

The chef growled. "You may consider it a date." Pressing his lips against hers in a clumsy kiss, he made his way to the door, down the stairs and out into the cold.

Walking at a fast pace, it was not a long way to the old Victorian building that served as Klingon headquarters. Other than some odd looks from passers-by, most of whom knew him but were not used to seeing him in uniform, nobody bothered him and just over five minutes later, he'd reached his destination.

Standing in the reception area outside Koreth's office, Grapok took a deep, shuddering breath before raising his hand to knock on the door. He was nervous… no, scratch that… this, he thought, was the closest he'd ever come to terror. The decision he'd come to was huge and lifechanging… and what happened in the next few minutes could change everything.

Almost, he stepped back without knocking. Another deep breath. A stern reminder to himself that he might be a chef, but he was also a warrior and cowardice played no part in that. He should just get on with it. Before he knew it, he'd banged on the door three times.

A sharp voice bade him enter and he did so, opening the door stepping inside and closing it again behind him. The brigadier was not alone, he realised immediately, the boss was here as well. Hoping that he hadn't interrupted anything important, he brought himself to attention, saluted and waited to be acknowledged.

"NuqneH, bekk Ch'pok?" Not surprisingly, since it was his office, it was Koreth who spoke. "What do you want?"

"Sir, I…" The chef took one final breath and blurted it out. "I wish to stay on Earth."

"You wish to stay on Earth?" Koreth repeated incredulously. He glanced at Krang but the security captain remained quiet, giving nothing away, waiting to see how his deputy handled this unexpected request. "Is this a joke of some sort?"

"No, sir, it's not a joke." Grapok told his superior. "I have never been more serious about anything in my life."

"You are a soldier of the Klingon Defence Force," Koreth said impassively. "We have been patient with you in allowing you to work in the restaurant. The fact remains, however, that you are under contract and must carry out your duty to the Klingon Empire."

"Actually, sir…" Grapok pointed out, with the understandable wariness of any bekk at contradicting not one but two very senior officers, "my ten-year contract with the Defence Force expired three months ago and I've been waiting since then for it to be renewed. I am a free agent."

Koreth pondered that. He would have to check, of course, but he had no doubt that the chef was correct. The approaching end of the Bekk's military contract should have been flagged up on the computer system and dealt with in plenty of time to renew the contract. Someone on his staff – Karg's staff as it had been at that point – had slipped up badly. Which meant that legally, Bekk Ch'pok was no longer a bekk and hence, not answerable to the Defence Force in any way. "Interesting," he said eventually. "May I ask the reason for your request?"

"I wish to marry, sir."

Listening to the conversation with great interest, Krang raised a heavy eyebrow but remained silent. Chrissie had told him that she thought Maggie, as he had learned the Terran waitress was named, liked the chef. Obviously, not only was that feeling mutual, but the couple had decided to do something about it.

"The waitress, I assume?" Koreth queried. "Have you considered taking her back to Qo'noS?"

Grapok shook his head. He had indeed considered that possibility but dismissed it. "No, sir. I have nothing to offer her on Qo'noS and I would not wish to take Maggie away from her family and everything she knows. Here on Earth, I have a thriving business and can support a family."

"You understand," Krang said thoughtfully, speaking for the first time, "that you are known to the resistance and once our forces have gone, we cannot guarantee a lack of reprisals? You would be completely alone here with no backup or support and with no way of ever going home again."

"Not alone," Grapok said resolutely. "Sir, this has become my home. I will beg if I must."

Unexpectedly, the security captain smiled. "I think there is no need for that."

Koreth nodded his agreement. He'd carefully considered everything Grapok had said and had come to the conclusion that the chef was both serious and fully understood the consequences of his request. There was absolutely no reason to refuse him. "It will be as you wish, Ch'pok. Congratulations on your betrothal."

Maggie's flat, London

Thursday 10th February 1994

"Ch'pok?"

"mmm?"

"Can a human and a Klingon have children?"

Ch'pok rolled onto his side to face her, propping himself up on one elbow. "No. At least, yes… but not without close medical supervision."

She sat up, self-consciously clutching the blanket to her chest. It was a somewhat pointless gesture considering what they'd just been doing, but the air was slightly chilly and showing off her nakedness was not likely to encourage a serious discussion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he told her, "…that our two species are genetically close enough that pregnancy can happen. But Klingon genes are dominant and in the case of a human mother, that would prove fatal without medical intervention."

She shook her head, not quite understanding that. "What sort of medical intervention?"

"Maggie, what colour is your blood?"

"Red, of course."

"And mine? Do you remember how shocked you were when I cut myself in the kitchen and you had to patch me up?"

"It's purple," she said. "At least, more a sort of pinky-lilac. But why would…" she stopped as realisation dawned. Her scientific knowledge was sketchy at best, but while she did not have a great education, she was not stupid. "Oh!"

He sighed at her obvious disappointment, wondering if this was to be the end of their short relationship. It been barely an hour, two at most, since he had arrived at her apartment, a bunch of red roses in one hand, that he'd obtained from the flower shop across the road from the restaurant. The proprietor, who knew him fairly well, and correctly guessed that the flowers were for Maggie, thought it was all highly romantic. She'd assured him that the roses represented true love and when he'd asked for her advice on how to propose, she'd not only told him what he needed to know, she'd given him the flowers for free.

Happy, excited and nervous all at the same time, Grapok had made his way from the flower shop to Maggie's apartment. It had been bad enough speaking to his superior, but this was a hundred times worse… now he had to propose to Maggie. What if she said no? He growled, annoyed with his own fears. She had told him that she loved him. She would not say no.

He remembered banging on the door, and it had opened and there she was. She'd stepped aside, a welcoming smile on her face as she'd gestured for him to come in. He remembered taking a moment to look around him and take in his surroundings. She'd been right - her apartment was bigger and more comfortable than his, not to mention more luxurious. This was more than just a place to live, it was a home. He also remembered handing her the flowers and dropping to his knees in front of her, just as the shopkeeper had instructed him.

"Ch'pok? What are you doing?"

That was more or less the same question he'd asked her yesterday and he answered it in much the same manner she had. "I am proposing to you. Margaret May Baxter…" Somehow, it seemed appropriate to use her full name. "Will you marry me?"

"Marry you? But…" She looked confused. "You're leaving."

"No, I'm not." He shook his head vigorously. "I have spoken with my superiors and I have permission to stay."

"Really?" Maggie's eyes lit up with happiness. "You're staying?"

"Yes."

"And… you really want to marry me?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Yes?" Ch'pok held his breath. Had his beloved Maggie actually agreed to marry him? Or had he misunderstood?

"Yes, of course I'll marry you," she clarified, laughing with pure joy at the expression on his face as her acceptance sunk in.

Rising to his feet, he stepped forward, pulling her a little roughly into his arms and kissing her hard. That low rumble sounded again, and she detached herself from him just enough to speak. "I like it when you growl at me."

He'd swept her into his arms, carrying her into her bedroom where he discovered that just like her flat, her bed was indeed bigger and more comfortable than his and that sometimes comfortable was a very good thing.

It had been some time before either of them had been capable of speech and when talking did become possible again, he had not expected children to be the subject of the conversation.

"Maggie, if I am to stay here, you must understand that I cannot give you children." He spoke the words with great regret. "Can you live with that?"

She was silent for a moment as she considered the question. "I always thought I wanted children," she confessed. "But I want you more. Ch'pok, there are plenty of parentless kids out there; social services are overrun with them. If you want a family, maybe we could adopt?"

Ch'pok growled, finding he very much liked the sound of that. We… He and Maggie. How had he got so lucky?

Pulling her down to him, he rolled, pinning her beneath him and bending his head to kiss her. It still seemed foreign to him to kiss a woman like that, but she liked it and he had quickly discovered that it was indeed very pleasurable.

"Ch'pok…" Needing to tell him something, she attempted, not completely successfully, to pull away from him enough to speak. "…ssie is pregnant."

His brain befuddled by her unaccustomed nearness, the statement did not quite register. He stared at her blankly, wondering which of her many friends she was talking about and why it was relevant to their current activities. Not interested enough to ask, he bent to kiss her again.

She pushed him off her. "Ch'pok! Damnit, I'm trying to tell you something important!"

"Mmm… yes, one of your friends is pregnant," he said unconvincingly. "That's nice."

"Nice?!" She almost shrieked the word. "I'm talking about your boss's partner! What's his name? Krang? And you just told me it's not possible and you guys are all leaving and he won't take her with him and… and… if what you just said is right then she'll die if he doesn't!"

He froze. "Are you sure? Does he know?"

"It's very early days," Maggie said, sighing. "But, yes, we had a long talk yesterday over lunch and she is fairly sure. And no, I don't think she's told him yet; she's only just found out."

"YIntagh!" Any thoughts of sex were completely gone now. Maggie was right, this was important.

Note: I had some fun writing this chapter. Poor Ch'pok. I almost feel sorry for him...

Thank you to the usual suspects - Solasnagreine, JDC0, and RobertBruceScott. Also, the lovely Linny, my best friend and beta. The next few chapters are critical, so please bear with me as I want to get it right. Also, I am starting a degree course in October, so my writing time will be severely curtailed. I promise however, that I will not abandon this story, it's too important to me.