(Author's Note: I borrowed Billy's biography from Cheshire Cheese's story "Hypochondriac", and the name T'Vora from her work as well.
The "Kosst amojan" is the "Book of the Pagh Wraiths", an evil artifact out of Bajoran legends mentioned on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. The idea of using it as a curse word comes from Uma McCormack's DS9 novel "The Never-Ending Sacrifice".)
Billy knew that life was fragile. Growing up as the Chief Engineer's son on the U.S.S. Europa, seeing your father in a coma, half-melted like a Dali painting from radiation after trying to repair an alien warp engine, you could not fail to learn that. Scanning for disease was his way of fighting for control over his life; there was some relief in preparing for the worst, whether or not it actually happened.
Still, there was nothing to prepare him for this: looking into the eyes of Tal Celes, his best friend, his line to sanity, his beloved, and knowing if he did or said even one thing wrong, he would lose her for good.
"I should turn in," said Ensign Gilmore. "Good night."
"Good night, Marla." Celes saved her work and shut down the padd. "Thank you."
They watched her go. As the mess hall doors opened, Billy caught a glimpse of a Vulcan woman in science green, stopping just before she bumped into Gilmore. They walked away together. Celes smiled.
"Was that … from the Equinox?"
"Yes. We worked together on Quarra. She's nice," said Celes, flaring up like a phaser primed to shoot.
"I don't doubt it." The last thing Billy wanted was another cause for argument. "Actually, I'm glad you're making friends. That's the thing I wanted to talk to you about?"
"Oh?" He saw her brace herself, knuckles whitening as she gripped the back of her chair, twisted around to face him.
"I … you were right." She relaxed, but only by a fraction. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dismissed your life back there. You have every right to miss it, even if it was fake."
"But it was fake, Billy." Her shoulders slumped in a sigh of resignation. "It was a lie. I'd rather have a real life with you, no matter how dangerous it was, than a fake life without you. Remember that."
Hearing her say that was an unspeakable relief. He would have gone down on his knees to her, if it weren't for the risk of odd looks from Neelix and assorted graveyard shift personnel. Instead he collapsed into the chair Marla Gilmore had just vacated, pushed it as close as it would go, and took one of Celes' soft, cool hands between both of his.
"The truth is," he said, in a low voice so that no one would overhear, "Ever since the day we met, I've been terrified of losing you."
"Oh, Billy." Her dark eyes shimmered. "Me too. All the time."
"Not just because we're both in Starfleet, or even in the Delta Quadrant, but also … look at you, you're amazing. What do you even see in me?"
"You're kidding!" She laughed. "That's how I feel."
"So back there, when you kind of implied you'd have an easier life without me … "
"William Montgomery Telfer, never say that again!"
She snatched her hand away, but only to take hold of his face and kiss him dizzy. When she let go, both of them were pink-faced and short of breath.
"That being said, though," she added thoughtfully. "Don't you think we should see other people sometimes?"
"Um. Depends on what you mean." He squirmed in his seat. "If you're talking polyamory, I've got to admit, that's really not my - "
"Kosst, no!" She yelped, stifling a giggling fit with her hand. "I mean hanging out with friends, that sort of thing."
"Oh." He imagined his cheeks turning from pink to scarlet, like a cartoon character's, complete with steam coming out his ears. "Actually, on that subject, you'll never believe who invited me to a kal-toh tournament earlier."
"Who?"
Billy grinned. "Mortimer Harren."
"From our away mission? That jerk?" Celes' eyebrows shot up almost to her strictly pinned-up hair. Remembering how Harren had called her "intellectually deficient", and the many nasty jokes they had privately shared at the cosmologist's expense, Billy felt a bit two-faced.
"He's a pretty smart jerk. He told me to go after you."
"Hmm." She tilted her head coyly. "Well, in that case, maybe I can forgive him."
If you can forgive someone who built a machine that turned sentient beings into engine fuel … But, socially awkward as he was, even Billy knew better than to pursue that line of reasoning right now. Besides, wasn't that what Voyager was all about – including people? Wasn't he keeping his fingers crossed at this very moment that the formidable senior officers who'd started the tournament would include him?
"See, this is perfect," said Celes, brightening up like a small moon. "I hate kal-toh. You go, and tell me all about it later. In non-technical terms, please."
"You sure you won't get bored?"
"I'll find something to do." Her eyes danced, and it took considerable self-control not to be jealous. He didn't have the monopoly on making her happy, after all.
He tapped his commbadge. "Telfer to Harren."
"Son of a … !" groaned Harren. "I was sleeping. Six hours are essential to peak cognitive functioning. Never do that again."
Celes couldn't have looked more horrified if Billy had suggested boys' night out with a Kazon sect. It was priceless.
"Hey, Mort," he said, rushing in where Captain Janeway feared to tread in the matter of the engineer's name. "Sorry I woke you. About that kal-toh tournament, when was it again?"
Tellingly, Harren let the nickname slide. "Wednesdays, sixteen hundred, mess hall. Did she forgive you yet?"
"I'm right here, and I did," said Celes, putting her hand over Billy's heart above his commbadge, and speaking into it so close that her hair brushed his chin. "Thank you, Harren. You're nicer than I gave you credit for."
"I'll try not to be insulted," said Harren crisply. "Can I get back to sleep now?"
"Of course," said Billy. "Good night!"
"Harren out." With a final chirp of the commbadge, his voice disappeared.
Billy and Celes exchanged a mischievous look.
"Mort?" she inquired. "Even his mother doesn't call him that." Her imitation was uncanny.
"Don't ask."
She took him at his word, gave him a look that said you're adorable, and kissed him on the nose. "All right, Mr. Telfer. May I have the pleasure of seeing you to your quarters?"
"Certainly, Miss Tal. Don't forget your padd."
"Oops!" She slapped her forehead, stuffed the padd into her pocket, and took his hand in hers as they stood up to leave.
They always walked this way, and it tended to make Billy oblivious to almost everything except her touch, but this time he made an effort to pay attention. Ensigns Kyoto and Golwat nodded politely as they went past; Neelix tossed away his towel with dramatic relief as he was finished cleaning the galley for the night. He had to remember that he and Celes were more than just a couple; they were part of a crew, a greater community in which they had a small, but significant role to play. They were works-in-progress, but then again, who wasn't? Celes' imperfections were what made him love her – and, he believed, vice versa.
"I don't envy Seven of Nine, you know," said Celes suddenly.
"Huh? Where did that come from?"
"Oh, just thinking. That Borg thing she has about searching for perfection. I feel sorry for her. Is there anything more boring?"
Even after being friends for nine years and lovers for seven months, the synchronicity of their thoughts still amazed him sometimes.
"I know," he said, "Exactly what you mean."