Chapter 25

Reg knew it was coming, he could feel it in his water as Deanna looked at her rear in the mirror.

"I really need to cut down on the chocolate ice cream sundaes." she muttered. "Does my bottom look fat?"

"No. You look…lovely." Reg forced a smile as he fastened his collar. It was indeed looking a little more rounded these days but he genuinely didn't mind her gaining weight. It was her moaning about it ad infinitum that got on his nerves. He often thought Taryn could do with gaining a few pounds. She tended not to eat when things got hectic and sometimes seemed a little gaunt. It was no secret the Captain moved the time of the daily Ops report to coincide with lunchtime to ensure she ate while she was in his ready room. It was how their relationship started in fact. He only hoped this new Captain would continue to make sure she took care of herself.

"What's wrong with the Captain?" Deanna suddenly frowned and stared at her husband.

"What? Nothing." he assured her.

"You're lying." she stated.

"It's not for me to say." he told her and fidgeted with his cuff. He hated dress uniform and he was beginning to loathe the way every emotion he felt was instantly known by his wife. Before they were married, before that walk in the Arboretum that he knew was out of pity he'd imagined it would be the ultimate experience to be with a woman who could respond to his emotions. His needs and desires. The truth of it was he just couldn't get away with anything, not that he ever really tried. His only crimes occurred in his imagination and Deanna made him pay through the nose for every one.

"I know that Prior didn't go through with the implantation. Beverly told me. I also know she came to speak to you in Engineering. From what I hear it looked like a cozy chat you were both having." Deanna snapped.

"Exactly, we talked, in full view of the entire engineering team." he replied. "Last time I looked talking to a fellow officer wasn't prohibited in our marriage vows."

"If you know something that affects the Captain's ability to command it's your duty to report it."

"I'm not aware of anything that affects his ability to command." Reg stated. "Your issue is the one you've always had that you can't handle not having a hotline to Data's mental state and you hate that you can't read his wife either."

"Thank you for your insight Dr Freud." she said acidly and strode from the room.

He sighed and followed her, although he knew he'd won that round. She always resorted to sarcasm and facetiousness when she ran out of logical arguments. The rest of the senior team were waiting when they arrived in the shuttle bay. Thankfully transporters were offline for repairs so they would have to take a shuttle down to Starfleet Command. Taryn gave him a look and pointed to her collar and he gave her a questioning frown. She rolled her eyes and untucked his collar where it was folded under at the front.

"Oh, thank you." he blushed and noticed Deanna was glaring at him as though he'd done it on purpose. There was a time when she checked his collar, and ran her hand down his chest and smiled up at him, but it was short lived. These days he didn't even get a chance to look at himself in the mirror without her in front of him checking out her butt in minute detail. He didn't have to be empathic to be aware his wife was smouldering beside him on the short shuttle voyage but he knew he wasn't the only cause. It was who was on the guest list.

They could hear her voice long before they entered the banquet hall. Reg noticed the side of Taryn's mouth twitch as Data raised his brow at her ahead of him. Clearly some things are common to all timelines.

"Of course, Admiral Whatley was quite overwhelmed by his attraction to me." Lwaxana Troi regaled a stunned looking Admiral Paris with her diatribe. "Little One, over here." She waved at her daughter. Deanna blanched and looked around for her husband. Reg however, had engaged evasive Is Reg about to do something he'll regret? and had slipped away to lurk by the punch bowl unnoticed. Deanna rolled her eyes and forced a smile as she approached the Betazoid matriarch.

"It could be worse." Taryn told him as she grabbed two glasses of champagne from a tray carried past by a waiter and handed him one.

"How?" Reg asked and clinked glasses with her. They both shared a loathing for mingling at these events and tended to lurk around the fringes aside from when Taryn was lured onto the dancefloor. They'd rotate in opposite directions then compare notes when they met.

"This could be real champagne." she smirked.

"Speak for yourself." he replied and looked at his glass carefully. "That's your call? Synthehol?" she nodded. It was a game they played, champagne roulette. If it was synthehol there was a good chance Prior would be shaking her tail on the buffet table by the end of the night and if it was real Barclay would be embracing everyone and telling them he loved them, particularly the men, in a purely fraternal sense of course but it was occasionally misconstrued. It wasn't really a bet, they had an unspoken agreement to step in and monitor the intake of the other to prevent career suicide, but it did determine which of them would have the most fun.

They took a sip in unison. "Oh bollocks." Taryn sneered and Reg smirked. It was real champagne. "They don't usually break out the real stuff for the usual suspects, someone important must be invited." she whispered.

"Little Flower!" came a cry from the far side of the room.

"Oh fucking Nora, what's she doing here?" Taryn cursed in her cultured accent just as Reg took a sip of champagne and he snorted, sending it down his nose and choking. She slapped him on the back and scowled. "It's not funny." she hissed as her grandmother approached. "Edara, I didn't know you'd be attending." Taryn smiled and kissed her cheek as the statuesque, white haired Green Woman swept her away. She loved her grandmother, everyone knew it but the Tahedri had a habit of creating drama at diplomatic events. The idea of Lwaxana Troi, daughter of the Fifth House, holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed, Federation Ambassador and grade A Drama Queen circulating in the same room as Edara the Wise, daughter of Melara the Temptress, Tahedri of the Caj Barin and owner of her very own planet, a planetoid and three orbital moons was like mixing nitrating glycerol with white fuming nitric acid. An explosive combination. The evening was looking up and Reg grabbed another drink, followed by a third and a fourth in short order.

"Commander." Admiral Prior said to Reg and drained his glass. "I don't know who to avoid more, my mother-in-law or yours?" He paused. "Yours, mine has never tried to cop a feel." he decided and grabbed another drink from a passing tray. Marianne appeared at his shoulder and took it from him. She knocked it back in one.

"Christ alive, who invited those two?" she giggled. "We never have this much fun at my gallery openings."

"You never drink at your openings and it's unlikely anyone will start an interstellar war." Iestyn said.

"How are you Commander Barclay?" Marianne smiled warmly.

"I'm fine, how are you Mrs Prior?" he replied with a smile, listing slightly as he sipped more champagne. Their recent missions had kept them near the Sol Sector acting as a bus service for an assortment of diplomats, as such they were often attending diplomatic functions, the one duty he hated about being Chief Engineer. The senior Priors would also circulate on the fringes and they would always speak to him. He liked them, they were amiable despite the tragedies that had cost them half of their eight children in recent years. It was clear where Taryn got her inner strength, resilience and her social conscience.

"Oh, here we go." Iestyn said brightly as the two formidable ladies met. Taryn and Deanna backed away from them, clearly anticipating a cataclysm of some sort but they greeted each other like sisters and chatted like old friends.

"Well that was disappointing." Marianne pouted. "Perhaps they cancelled each other out?"

"Wait, there's another player in the game." Iestyn grinned as Grand Nagus Rom appeared with his delegation. His wife Leeta, his brother Quark, an enormous bodyguard and five assorted, shifty looking Ferengi.

…

Taryn chewed her thumbnail as she stood beside Counsellor Troi watching the two matriarchs chat. From a distance the exchange between the two delegates appeared amicable but those within earshot heard that their tongues were dripping with acid.

"I see you're still keeping your natural hair. How brave of you, most women your age would at least add some colour rather than look frumpy." Lwaxana smiled sweetly.

"At least it's my hair and not a wig." Edara retorted. "Your choice of dress is lovely, reminds me of the marquee I purchased to hold my third wedding." She flashed a wolfish smile.

"Your dress is particularly daring dear, not many women your age can pull off backless…and frontless." The Betazoid said with a warm smile.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen my mother look happier." Deanna stated incredulously.

"It's like honour among warriors only with bitchiness." Taryn said with wide eyes. "I don't know about you but I'm making a bid for freedom." she stated as they both grabbed a fluted glass from a passing tray and floated away in opposite directions.

"Oh God, how much have you had to drink?" Taryn asked Reg as she found him loitering in the corner.

"Not that much." he told her as he sipped from his glass, looking more than a little glassy eyed. He looked up as the music changed and people began to dance. "You said you'd hold me…" he said as he gazed into her eyes and was lost for a moment, "…to dancing with you." he added shyly, reminding her of their earlier discussion.

"I forgot my tritanium toecaps." she said with a forced smile. She really didn't feel like dancing.

"Then I'll have to watch where I put my feet." he took her drink from her hand and put it down with his then took her hand. She looked up at him as he steered her around the floor. It was the first time she'd danced with him, she realized. She was often dancing at these events, whether she wanted to or not. She'd probably taken a spin around the floor with most of her male colleagues, even Worf once when Data ordered him to be sociable and stop glaring at everyone, but never Reg for some reason. He wasn't exactly Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly but she wasn't exactly Cyd Charisse either for that matter. He didn't step on her feet, nor did she feel like she was being grappled with. It felt natural to be in his arms and she found it a little disturbing. "Is it in the genes, an Orion thing?"

"What?" she asked with a puzzled smile.

"You dance like a…"

"Handcart?" she suggested. "Manatee? Three hundred pound Tholian?"

"No," he smiled. "I can't think of a simile right now but it'll be a positive one when I do."

"Thank you. When I think of a simile for you I'm sure it will be equally flattering." she smiled, genuinely this time.

"Do you think we dance together in the other timeline?" he asked.

"I don't know, I'd like to think we don't get press-ganged into so many of these diplomatic horrors." she replied. "By the way, one is green."

"Really?" he smiled, "Boy or girl?"

"Boy, Philip but we call him Pip."

"After my Nanna?" he looked touched.

"And my Grandad, how's that for a coincidence?" she replied. "The girl is T'Pandra after my great-grandmother, we call her Andie. They're six months old."

"They're still babies? Wow." he breathed. "The daughter we adopted?"

"Galatea, she sounds like a Green Grey Orion hybrid." she told him.

"But I thought they were all sick?" he looked alarmed. "Galatea?" he frowned and looked puzzled.

"He said she's thriving." Taryn smiled. "She's nearly seven and she loves riding horses. He said she runs like the wind."

"I like to ride." he said with a smile.

"I didn't know that." she replied, gazing into his eyes, "My Miffy and my Aunt Beth run a riding school. I've ridden since before I could walk."

"We should go riding together." he suggested.

"I'd like that, but I think your regular riding partner may object."

"She doesn't ride. She's not really that fond of animals. It's why I'm not allowed a cat, that and the fur all over her clothes. She says Betazoids get too involved in the passions of the beasts or something."

"That sounds like fun to me but passion is a Kolari trait, along with being beastly." Taryn smiled wolfishly. "Data wanted me to ask you…"

"May I cut in?" Deanna asked brightly.

"Of course Counsellor, would you like to lead or shall I?" Taryn smirked and stepped aside while Reg snorted with laughter. Deanna gave him a chiding glance as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

"You're drunk." she snapped at him.

"I am not drunk. If I was drunk I'd be dancing with Admiral Paris," he argued, "or worse, your mother."

"Would you like to dance?" Data asked appearing at Taryn's shoulder.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea." she replied softly, but reluctantly agreed to maintain the illusion that nothing had changed. "You normally hold me closer." she whispered.

"Like this?" he replied softly, drawing nearer and she nodded.

"You turn my hand to your chest." she added sorrowfully and he changed his grip, the back of her hand against his body and his palm against hers, their fingers entwined.

"I know how difficult all this is for you, and I am grateful that you are being so supportive." he whispered and she turned her head and leaned against his shoulder. They looked for all the world like a romantic couple in love but her eyes were fixed on the back of a man she had previously only thought of as a friend as he danced with his wife. She was unaware that as they turned Barclay's eyes locked on her and his face fell on seeing her in an intimate embrace with a man he knew was only posing as her husband.

…

Taryn had just finished introducing Commander Worf to her cousin Nareev when someone grabbed Taryn's upper arm and dragged her across the dance floor in front of Admiral Paris, causing her to spill her champagne.

"This one, how much?" The Ferengi holding her asked. "I will pay ten bars of latinum for one night with her."

"I beg your pardon?" Taryn asked indignantly.

"Lieutenant Prior is not for hire." Owen Paris replied giving her a sympathetic look.

"Twelve-bars." the Ferengi grinned. "For eight hours."

"It's not a question of price. The Lieutenant is a valued officer and not a... courtesan." The Admiral replied, signaling for security.

"She is small," the Ferengi leered at her breasts and grabbed her backside, "but firm. I must see her naked before I increase my offer." She resisted the urge to deck the unctuous little turd. This was a diplomatic reception, she knew better than to start a fight.

There was a blur of a dress uniform beside her and she was dragged by the arm and bottom as the Ferengi tightened his grip on being tackled, slamming her into Admiral Paris who fell on his back with her sprawled on top of him.

She lifted her face. "Are you alright sir?" she asked the flattened flag officer.

"I'm fine Lieutenant." he replied with a smirk.

She turned and saw one of her fellow officers straddling the Ferengi, holding him by the collar and repeatedly punching him in the face. To her horror she realized it was Reg and felt a pang of guilt that she hadn't kept up her end of the bargain and stopped him getting too drunk.

Another Ferengi weighed in and grabbed Reg by the scruff of the neck trying to drag him off his fellow delegate, then another joined him and started punching Reg while the other held him. Taryn pounced and grabbed his attacker in a choke-hold, riding on his back like a monkey and within seconds Nareev picked up the Ferengi holding Reg by the collar, hoisting him by the back of his pants, towing both him and Reg across the floor and shook him until he let go, then flung him in the direction of the Nagus' bodyguard who was approaching menacingly. The enormous Hupyrian brushed the flying, screaming Ferengi aside causing him to collide with the string quartet and tackled the equally sized Orion prince causing them to crash through the buffet table. Worf roared as he entered the fray, grasping a random small arm that happened to belong to the Chief Tellarite Aide and swung him to clear a way into the rapidly expanding, whirling cloud of fists and limbs.

Dr Crusher tried to render aid to the fallen until one of the Ferengi seized the confusion to fondle her breast and she administered a palm strike to his face then found herself fighting hand to hand as the scrum closed in. Soon the other senior officers from the Enterprise were there, some trying to break it up but most ending up throwing punches, fighting tooth and nail with most of the Ferengi Delegation and an assortment of other representatives and officers who were caught in the fallout. A security team poured into the room and only succeeded in making matters worse.

…

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Taryn asked Reg as they sat on the floor of the banquet hall. She had two black eyes, a split lip and a bloody nose.

"He was manhandling you. Was I supposed to just stand and watch?" he protested as he held his ribs with one hand and a handkerchief to a cut to his brow that was bleeding profusely. He also had a black eye and a bruised jaw.

"Yes, that's exactly what you were supposed to do." She scowled at him. "You'll get court-martialled, you could lose your commission."

"I don't care." he protested.

"You should care. You'll care tomorrow when you're sat on your arse in your wife's quarters listed as her dependent with bugger all to do all day…" she stopped and thought for a moment. "Listen to me." she whispered. "If they ask you felt compelled to protect me okay?"

He shrugged, it was technically true. He couldn't stand to see anyone pawing her like that. He'd even looked away when Data kissed his bride, it was more than he could bear but this was more than that. In the last few hours, if only in his mind she had become the mother of his children, someone he cherished and felt compelled to protect.

"Okay, someone tell me what the hell happened here?" The Commander in Chief of Starfleet asked.

Taryn stood to attention. "I take full responsibility sir." Reg looked up at her in amazement.

"You do?" he asked.

"A Ferengi delegate grabbed and molested her sir. He was attempting to… inappropriately procure her sexual services." Admiral Owen Paris reported, stepping in to defend her.

"And you attacked him?" The most senior flag officer asked her.

"No sir, but I temporarily lost control of my pheromones and it must have caused a hormonal response in my crewmates which led to them over-reacting in my defence." she stated.

"So how were you injured?" he asked.

"I tried to restrain one of the other Ferengi Delegates who were attacking one of my crewmates three to one. I was caught in the melee."

"Lieutenant?"

"Prior sir. Taryn B. Assigned to the Enterprise." she responded. Reg noticed the Commander in Chief exchanging glances with Admiral Prior who nodded in acknowledgement. She was indeed one of his.

"Did you intentionally release your pheromones Lieutenant?" he asked.

"No sir, I use a Vulcan technique to withhold the triggering hormone and it requires discipline to maintain. I…slipped sir, I apologize wholeheartedly and offer to resign my commission."

Reg felt as though his heart was about to beat out of his chest or stop completely. He wasn't sure which but he couldn't let her do this and stood beside her.

"Sir, I was the one who st…truck first and I insist on t…taking responsibility as the ranking officer." Reg stated.

"No need for both of you to fall on your swords Commander. I accept your resignation, effective immediately Lieutenant." He turned to walk away but someone in an ornate dress blocked his path standing far closer to him than he felt comfortable with.

"You're punishing this woman when that loathsome little creature assaulted her?" Lwaxana Troi stated angrily. "It's hardly her fault she has Orion blood."

"Yes and quite frankly you can kiss goodbye to building your military installation on MY moon if this travesty goes any further. It was only the fact that my Little Flower was in Starfleet that I entertained the notion at all." Edara added indignantly.

"Little Flower?" The Chief asked.

"Me sir." Taryn confirmed with embarrassment. "The Tahedri is my grandmother."

"I see." he rubbed his forehead despairingly. Clearly the political situation was even more complex than he had realized.

"If I may say something?" Quark ventured, ignoring Rom's efforts to silence him.

The Chief nodded tiredly. "Why not."

"Quite frankly my cousin is an idiot who doesn't know how to behave, even the offer he made for this lovely creature was an insult. She's clearly worth at least fifty bars of latinum or more for a night of…pleasure." he smiled lasciviously as he looked her up and down.

"You're not helping." Rom warned him in a stage whisper.

"I'm sure the Nagus is happy to accept her apology for her, lapse in… whatever and we can draw a discreet veil over this matter?" Quark suggested.

"What about the other delegates that were injured in the fracas?" The Commander in Chief asked.

"I haven't had so much fun in years." The Andorian Ambassador smirked and winced at his cut lip.

"This room is too cold," the Tellarite Ambassador with a bloody nose complained, "these females are irritating," he pointed to Lwaxana and Edara, "the champagne is too fizzy." He raised his snout like nose. "But it has been an enjoyable evening on the whole."

The other Delegates being treated for minor injuries nodded and murmured their assent.

…

"Did you know that would happen when you stood up?" Data asked her quietly as they returned to the ship on the shuttle, still battered and bruised.

"What, you mean the I am Spartacus routine? Not a clue." she replied, "I thought my arse was grass and I didn't really care. I planned to stay on board as your dependent anyway and help you set things right. I've lost three brothers, a sister, a cousin and I have three children that are alive in your reality, three more with Geoff's kids. If we succeed this timeline will cease to exist, what does my career matter?"

"It is a relief that your pheromones were to blame, otherwise we have a serious discipline problem." Data tilted his head. "You did release your pheromones?" he asked and she simply looked at him. "Tell me you did not lie to the Commander in Chief of Starfleet?"

"Would you rather I lied to you?" she responded and he shook his head. "I refuse to answer that question on the grounds it may incriminate me sir."

…

"Are you going to say anything?" Deanna asked with forced calm as he sat pouting on the couch, still in his battered dress uniform with his collar open. "You caused a diplomatic incident."

He swallowed hard and averted his eyes as she looked at him. Finally he'd got her attention when he didn't want it anymore.

"Are you speaking as my wife or as ships counsellor?" he asked softly.

"Have you considered the possibility she's using her pheromones to manipulate you?" she asked.

"To what end?" he asked incredulously. "She doesn't need anything from me. If she wanted to take control of the ship she's better placed than I am at Ops and she has the Captain worshipping the ground she walks on. If she wanted to seduce me she'd have tried before now and you've made it abundantly clear I'm next to useless in that department." He stopped on seeing her hurt expression but this diatribe was a long time coming. "I've never mislead you about how I feel, there would be no point but she is entirely innocent in all this and you've done nothing but treat her with mistrust and disdain. It's not her fault she looks like that damn painting, it's not her fault you don't know what she's feeling and it's not her fault I'm in…" he stopped himself from saying it and stalked from the room, leaving their quarters.

He walked dejectedly through the corridor with his head down. He needed to talk to her, understand why she would risk throwing away her career like that to save his. If there was a chance she felt the same way he did about her, no matter how slim he needed to know. He rubbed the back of his head and realized he had no idea where her new quarters were.

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Prior?" he asked.

"Lieutenant Prior is in the Captain's quarters."

His face fell, she was still with him. He'd seen them dancing and they were talking earnestly all the way back from San Francisco. Either the old Captain had returned and he was in her arms or the new one had decided what side his bread was buttered and was probably seducing her right now. Kissing her, touching her, writhing with their naked bodies entwined.

He turned around and headed for the turbolift, clenching and unclenching his hands and he flexed his wrist nervously, grasping it with the other hand, his breathing uneven as he descended through the ship. He stepped into the corridor and strode purposefully towards the large doors that whirred and hissed open at his approach.

"Run Barclay Program 9, development mode." he instructed and tilted his head to gaze at her. "Hello Galatea." he whispered to the girl dressed in strategically placed oak leaves. "Access Starfleet personnel file, Prior, Taryn B. Overlay physical, psychological and educational parameters from that file to Program 9."

"That function is restricted."

"I wonder why." he muttered dryly and walked over to a panel in the arch and removed it. He dropped to one knee and altered the positions of a number of isolinear chips retaining one in his hand. He tapped at the panel briefly then looked at the chip in his hand, rubbing it with his thumb. This was it, the line in the sand. The point of no return. He pressed it into place. "Access Starfleet personnel file, Prior, Taryn B. Overlay physical, psychological and educational parameters from that file to Program 9."

He circled his new creation, finally she was perfect, ten percent smaller, her eyes shone bright with intelligence and not the vacuous stare she previously gazed at him with. "Say something?" he whispered.

"Hello."

He closed his eyes and swallowed nervously, barely able to contain his feelings at the sweet velvety tone of her voice and her cultured intonation. "Right, um… Access digital image file The Dryad of Windspirit Glade. Create a backdrop from that painting." The glade appeared with the large tree, the one he used to meet the Goddess of Empathy under and sleep with his head in the lap of a photonic Dr Crusher. Long before that it was the home of his Galatea, the girl from the painting that he never could get quite right. "Save as Barclay Program Theta 1." he ordered.

He gently placed his finger on the chin of his creation and turned her face to look at him. "I love you." he whispered sincerely.

"I love you too." she replied, gazing into his eyes but deep down he knew it was her programming, there was no emotion behind it. That had always been his problem with her. He could never suspend disbelief with her as he could with his other holographic playmates. He sighed and looked her up and down with sadness in his dark eyes. Perhaps she was close enough for what he needed.

He took her in his arms and kissed her with every particle of desire he felt for the real girl. She responded and took him in her arms, returning his kiss.

"Put her in uniform and braid her hair." he ordered and looked at her, his eyes glazed with passion. "No, dress uniform and put her hair in a bun. No more of a swirl at the nape of her neck. A little make-up on her eyes, little more. Yes, that's right that's…" he panted breathlessly and kissed her again. "Make her smell…Orion." he asked the computer, "No that's far too much, it's subtle it's…make it… five percent of that level." He knew that as a simulation she wouldn't produce real pheromones but he didn't care. She suppressed them normally and it never altered the way he felt about her.

He held her chastely as he had hugged Taryn once when she thanked him for a birthday gift he had given her to compare her to the real thing. He'd spent ages carving a she-wolf to create a mold and had poured the metal himself to make the statue and she was thrilled with it. He'd made many gifts for Deanna over the years, most taking much longer than the wolf and every one was in storage within a month of her birthday. He'd seen the wolf on the coffee table in the Captain's quarters nary a week ago when he returned a book Data had loaned to him.

He breathed deep, taking in her scent. "Oh boy…" he whispered as he opened the neck of her uniform and slipped his hand inside, cupping her pert breast and froze. She was looking up at him, love shining in her eyes but the smile on her lips wasn't her cheeky smile, or the wolfish one, or the sweet dimpled one she made if you paid her any kind of compliment or any of the million different smiles she seemed to have. "Don't smile." he told her, gently caressing her cheek with his thumb and turned her suddenly, her back against his chest and his arm around her waist. "Lock the door." he ordered as he pulled her jacket off her shoulder and her uniform aside to kiss the soft jade skin on her neck. "Make her less…submissive." She tore herself from his arms and turned, then grasped his jacket and yanked him down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. "Save program. Run in simulation mode." he gasped as he came up for air and lifted her, her legs wrapped around his waist as he lost himself in her kisses, the warmth of her body and her scent.

Author's Note:

I am not Spartacus, nor do I own Spartacus.