Author's Note: So everybody seemed pleased that Romelle sent Erimar packing. Remember how I always say that these characters write the story for me? Well, my original plan was for Erimar to leave Pollux on his own accord when he found out that Sven was coming home, but Romelle stepped in and said, "No, I wanna kick him out, Kath. AND I also want to demand that my husband come home." Who am I to turn down a princess' request?

To Emie Mac - One of the infamous floormates will re-emphasize your statement: Things are different when you're grown up.

To bknbu - In the end, I liked Len with Jon too much to break them up. (Wade Wells and Emie Mac did, too, along with you & me.) Now let's see what we can do with Sven & Romelle...

To Sally On - Talk about hitting rock bottom, indeed. Well, now that they're there, there's nowhere else to go but up, right?

To Wade Wells - I had a feeling you'd be cheering when Len told the Viking that she was in love with her husband! ;) And after you read the first part of this chapter, you'll fall in love with Jon a little more.

Title Song: "Run" by Snow Patrol

Lenora slid her key card into the hotel room door. Even though Jon, her significant other - she hesitated to use the term boyfriend for a man who had just turned forty-one - had inherited a three-bedroom condo in Las Vegas, he had insisted upon booking the Salon Suite at the Wynn hotel for his visit. They hadn't seen each other in four months, and the last time they spoke, he told her that he wanted everything to be special.

She'd left his condo, where she had been hiding out recently, and gone to the hotel after receiving his message. Per his instructions, she'd gone to the front desk to obtain her key card, and taken the elevator up to the top floor to his favorite suite. Now she let herself into the suite and looked around expectantly for him. He was nowhere to be found.

"Jon?" she called out.

"In the bath, mon ange," he replied. "Come join me."

She shook her head, amused - it was such a Jon Hawkins request. She placed her purse down in front of the huge viewing monitor in the sitting room and eased her way through the bedroom and into the bathroom. There were red rose petals sprinkled on top of the bed. She cocked her eyebrow at it in interest, but said nothing.

She found him seated in the hot tub, surrounded by a few lit candles and a bottle of uncorked Veuve Clicquot chilling in a bucket. His eyes lit up when he saw her. "Lenora. Oh, I've missed you. Come join me in the tub."

She bit her lip to keep from crying out. She'd missed him, too. She saw him only rarely, whenever he could sneak away from Wade and the Garrison under false pretenses. "Oh, mon coeur, you're just trying to get my clothes off already," she teased him. After she twisted her hair up in a hasty bun, she stripped her off her clothing and joined him in the hot water, wearing only the diamond stud earrings he'd given her for her thirtieth birthday.

As she settled down in the tub across from him, tangling her legs with his, Jon poured the Clicquot into two champagne flutes and handed her one. "My God, I have missed you," he told her, clinking his flute with hers. "I can't even begin to tell you how much I've missed you."

"I know. I've missed you too." She took a sip, then leaned forward to kiss him. She could feel that she spilled some champagne into the hot tub as she did, but she didn't care.

"Put your glass down and come here," he instructed her.

"Of course." She set her champagne down on the side of the tub, and Jon pulled her onto his lap. With his right arm wrapped around her waist, she leaned her head back on his shoulder and closed her eyes. From behind her, he kissed the side of her face, her neck, and her shoulder as the warm water bubbled over their bodies. It felt like heaven.

"I don't ever want to get out of this tub," she murmured dreamily.

"Me neither."

They sat there in silence for a moment, and she felt him take her left hand in his. "Lenora," he told her, "Wade's reign over the Alliance is about to be over. I haven't told you, but the Voltron Force on Arus is back - to Wade's dismay, of course - and they've defeated him on a few occasions. He's teetering on the breaking point." He paused to kiss her neck again. It felt divine, and she shivered with pleasure. "I don't think he can hold out much longer. When that breaking point occurs and I feel it's safe, I can take you home."

Home. She hadn't been home to New York in four years. She'd been in hiding for what felt like forever. In all that time, she hadn't seen her friends, which was the worst of all. They were her family, and she missed them. It was a good thing she had Jon now. She owed him her life. She owed him everything.

Somehow, she'd even managed to fall in love with him. That had been the best part of this mess.

"So, when you finally come home and take the reins of the Alliance as Space Marshal, what do you have planned? What's on your to-do list?"

She smiled, her eyes still closed. "I've got a few ideas, but nothing's set in stone yet. I won't believe it until it actually happens."

"Hmm." He kissed her shoulder again, tenderly gripping her hand in his, and pulled her closer to him. It was a deeply intimate moment, and she felt safer just because he was there. She was so comfortable, she could have fallen asleep on top of him. Then she felt him slide something onto her finger. "Tell me, is 'Becoming my wife' anywhere on your list?"

Her eyes popped open, and she turned her head to look at him. "Jon? What are you saying?"

"Well." He grinned at her mischievously. "I'm asking you to marry me."

Without even looking at the ring he'd slipped onto her finger, she used her left hand to press his face closer to hers. She kissed him hard. Then, with a broad smile, she replied, "Yes. My answer is yes. I will marry you, Jon. Je t'aime."

"Je t'aime plus, Lenora. Do you even want to look at your ring?"

"Not that it matters. You are what matters."

He laughed. "Do me a favor and look at it anyway, will you?"

She brought her left hand between them so they could both look at the ring together. It was a Tiffany solitaire, the Lucida-cut, set in platinum. It was breathtaking. And it was huge.

"It's two and a half carats," he answered her unasked question. "Do you like it? I sweated over this ring for three months."

"Jon, it is perfect. It is stunning. I love it." She smiled up at him. "But I love you more."

He picked up their forgotten champagne flutes, and they toasted their life and their future together. He kissed her, his new fiancée, then picked her up and lifted her out of the tub. After drying them off with some of the hotel's plush towels, he picked her back up and carried her over to the bed to consummate their engagement. He felt like the luckiest man in the world.

As he laid her down on top of the rose petals, she felt a pang of guilt surge through her body. No. Not now, of all times. Sven. It was supposed to be Sven, not Jon. She was supposed to marry Sven. Tears stung her eyes unbidden, and he wiped them away gently.

"Jon?" she whispered. "Aime-moi."

"Of course," he answered. As he placed his body over hers, she felt the guilt washing away. For now. But she knew it would be back.

When Sven woke up, his head was pounding so hard that he could hear it. He was in bad shape. Once Lenora left, he couldn't fall asleep, and he began to guzzle the champagne he had ready for them by the hot tub. Straight out of the bottle. It wasn't enough, and he vaguely remembered ordering another bottle of champagne from room service. He hadn't drunk the entire new bottle, but he had drunk enough to pass out.

It was the only way he'd been able to pass out.

As he struggled to open his eyes, the first thing that came into focus was the almost-empty bottle of cheap champagne he'd ordered. His mouth felt dry and tasted sour; it seemed as though the alcohol was still running through his veins. He'd fallen asleep in his clothes, which were rumpled and damp with sweat. His hair was disheveled, his beard was matted, his skin was sallow, and his eyes were bloodshot and ringed with bruise-colored circles. He felt like he had the flu, only worse.

The pounding in his head stopped, only to start up again. It took him a moment to realize that the pounding wasn't inside his head at all; it was actually someone pounding insistently on the door to his hotel suite. He struggled to push himself upright on the bed, and then staggered to the door. He opened it without looking through the peephole to see who was there.

His visitor whistled. "Wow, Sargeant Holgersson, you look like all seven hells put together."

Sven gave a stiff mock salute. "Thank you, First Officer Asimov," he cracked sarcastically. "Believe it or not, I look better than I feel."

Kelly stepped into the room and surveyed the damage. The hot tub was empty of water, with dried rose petals sticking to the bottom. There were two practically-empty bottles of champagne, and strawberry hulls plastered to the bathroom sink. The bed was made but crinkled from him having slept atop the sheets. The candles surrounding the hot tub held black wicks and smoky glass. "Too bad you can't say the same for the room."

He sighed and closed the door behind her. "Cut to the chase. Why are you really here, Kelly?"

She turned to look at him, and instantly felt sad for him. "Oh, Sven. I'm so sorry. I warned you, but I'm sorry anyway." She threw her arms around his neck for a large, comforting hug. For a moment, he allowed himself to be wrapped up in her pity. "I know you guys love each other, but we're not kids anymore. You guys are both married to other people."

"I know." He dropped his head to her shoulder and closed his eyes. No matter what happened, they were still family, and they would still take care of each other.

"And on that point...your wife contacted the Garrison last night, Sven."

His eyes shot open. "She did? What did Romelle want?"

"She's sending a Polluxian transport and guard to escort you back home. Today."

Sven shook himself out of Kelly's embrace and looked panicked. "Why would she do that?" he asked, knowing that she wouldn't have the answers he needed. "How much time do I have before the transporter gets here?"

"The transporter is already en route and is scheduled to be here for 1300 hours," she replied. Then, arching a sympathetic eyebrow, she suggested, "And maybe she did it because she loves you and misses you?"

"No. She doesn't. She hates me."

"Sven...is that what you're trying to tell yourself? Is that what you told Len in order to get her to take you back?"

"No," he shot out, annoyed. "I asked her to leave her husband, and she said no." His gaze drifted back down to his right hand, where her ring still rested over the middle joint of his pinkie. He still couldn't believe that Lenora could be in love with someone other than him.

"I'm not surprised." Kelly rubbed his back soothingly. "Come on, get your stuff together. Clean yourself up and get dressed. We'll go get something to eat, then I'll escort you to the hangar. You can say good-bye to everyone there."

He nodded. "Slutten. Let me shower and shave first." He began to gather his clothes to bring them into the bathroom.

Kelly plopped down on a chair in the corner of the room. She picked up a magazine from the decorative table next to the chair and began to leaf through it, crossing her legs and settling in. "Don't forget to brush your teeth," she called out to him without looking up. "Your breath is pretty rank."

Rolling his eyes, Sven disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

"You know, I forgot how nice it is to live in the city instead of in Jersey," Cinda commented as Ginger came out of the bathroom after fixing her hair and make-up. "You want to get food or something? Or at least hit up the Tea Shoppe for coffee?"

"Mmm, sounds good," Ginger replied. "Though we've gotta wait for Lisa. She's supposed to pick up the last of her stuff this morning. That is, of course, if she can pry herself outta bed and away from that boyfriend of hers." She rolled her eyes jokingly. She really was happy for her old roommate.

Lisa hadn't left much behind in the apartment. As it was, she'd already brought most of her stuff over to Aidan's place during the course of their relationship, toiletries and undergarments and a few items of clothing. The only things she'd left in the apartment were bedding and a few personal items, remnants from the Space Academy that had never been thrown out.

Cinda interrupted her train of thought. "Do we at least have any instant coffee here? If Lisa doesn't hurry up and get here, I might go into caffeine withdrawal."

"Yeah. Bottom shelf in the cupboard closest to the fridge." In true New York City fashion, there was no real refrigerator, only a countertop mini-fridge to hold a few bottles of water and skim milk for their instant coffee or cereal.

As Cinda fixed herself a mug of instant coffee, Ginger sat down on the floor of their tiny living room and picked up one of Lisa's plastic boxes. As she moved it, the lid popped off, and a decade-old photo album came into view. She'd always laughed at how old-fashioned and sentimental her Academy roommate was, keeping actual handheld photo albums instead of digital ones like everyone else in the universe. "Hey Cin, check this out! Lisa's got pictures in here from school."

"Oh, nice." Cinda joined her in the living room, mug of coffee in hand, and sat down on the floor next to her. Ginger flipped open a photo album containing pictures from their fifth year.

"Wow, look at these." Ginger flipped through pages of slightly-faded photographs from back when they were only twenty years old. "We look so young! We look like little kids!"

"We were little kids." Cinda sipped her coffee as she glanced down at the photos. "Hey, I bet there are some pictures from Senior Night in here. Flip to the back of the book. We can go back to the rest of the photos later."

As Ginger came to the last few pages of the photo album, she was greeted by a photo of herself in a tomato-red dress. Her arms were wrapped around Lance's neck, her head tossed back in a laugh. He had both arms wrapped around her waist and a huge grin on his face. It was a very happy photo, and as she studied it, she wished more than anything that she was back on Arus with her lover. The small amount of time they'd spent together hadn't been nearly enough. She suddenly realized how much she wanted Lance in her life for the rest of her life.

Cinda hardly noticed the photo of Ginger with Lance. She was more interested in the photo right below it, the photo of her in a strapless ice-blue dress, her bright blue hair slicked back, hanging on Hunk's arm. "Wow."

"Wow, indeed."

Cinda reached her fingers underneath the sticky paper, pulling the photograph out. "Do you think Lisa will miss this?" she asked her new roommate, carefully cradling the picture in her hand. "Because I'd love to frame this and hang this up over the top bunk."

"Only if you think she won't miss this picture, either." Ginger slid the photo of herself with Lance out of the book. "I won't even bother with a frame. I'll just tack it up by the bottom bunk."

Their boys. They were both so entranced in the old photographs of themselves and their current - and past, as it was - love interests that neither one of them noticed the next crop of photos from Senior Night on the next page. One was of Lisa with Aidan, her tossing him an exasperated look as he shot an overconfident smirk at the camera, an arm looped around her shoulder.

The other was of Jeff and Morgan.

Ginger's phone rang, interrupting the moment, and she smiled when she saw that it was Lisa calling. "Hey, Baby, what's happening? Where are you?" She paused for a moment, and her eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Okay. I'll tell her. See you soon."

"What was that about?" Cinda asked, finishing her coffee.

"That was Lisa. She wanted us to know that Aidan just got a phone call. We need to head to the hangar." She frowned. "Sven's leaving."

He was touched that his family had come to the hangar to say good-bye.

"I'm sorry that you have to leave so soon, Sven," Morgan whispered as she wrapped her arms tightly around him in a hug. "I feel like you just got here."

"I did just get here," he answered wryly. "But what's left for me to do? When a princess commands her husband to come home, he can't just ignore her." Then, brushing his lips by her ear, he whispered, "Lenora wouldn't take me back."

She had no answer for him, no words of comfort. She loved Sven, but she loved Jon, too - she considered him as her brother. And she loved Lenora most of all, so if her best friend had chosen her husband over her old lover, then she would support her decision.

Kelly, Ginger, Cinda, and Lisa also came to hug him good-bye. Cliff and Jeff gave their regards and well-wishes, with Jeff thanking him a thousand times over for rescuing his fiancée on Crydor. Aidan shook his hand fiercely. No words were exchanged during their handshake. Words weren't necessary when they had an unspoken understanding.

Christiane buried her face in his shoulder. "I wish you didn't have to run off."

"You're safe now, and you're going to be fine," he told her protectively, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "Never forget what you went through. It makes you stronger. It makes you better." He thought back to his own experiences on Arus, Ebb, and Doom, and wondered if he really believed those words for himself. For Keith's sister, yes. For himself, perhaps not.

"Will you come to the wedding?" she asked simply.

He shook his head. "I'd like to, but I have issues I need to work through with my wife. I will most likely be stationed on Pollux indefinitely and unable to leave." He hugged her tightly. "But I will be thinking of you on your wedding day, I promise."

Swallowing, he watched as Christiane returned to Jeff's side. He turned his head to the Polluxian transport ship, where Bandor's personal guard sat impatiently. Sven knew that the guard was eager to return home, but he did not feel the matter was of the same pressing importance as Drakar did.

When he turned his face back to his family, the figures in the doorway caught his eye. His elskede was there, dressed in uniform, her hair pulled into a side bun. She caught his eye in a pained expression.

Her hand gripped her husband's.

"Adjø," he whispered to her mournfully as he turned his body back to the transporter. He couldn't look at her, especially not as she held the commander's hand. Not after she'd turned him down.

"Blast it!" she cried out. "Wait a minute, Holgersson."

He heard the furious clicking of her high heels against concrete as she ran across the hangar floor. Suddenly, she was behind him, her hands on his shoulders. He spun around to face her, and she threw her arms around his neck. Inhaling her scent, Sven realized that it didn't matter that she wouldn't leave her husband. He would never stop loving her. He couldn't. He would always be right beside her, no matter where in the universe he was.

"I really have to go," he told her.

She nodded. "Work things out with your wife."

"I will. At least, I'll try." He pulled himself out of her arms and turn away. Looking back over his shoulder, he mouthed, "Love deg."

She nodded. "Love deg."

Sven headed into the transporter as Lenora returned to Jon and the rest of her family. She did not watch as the ship left the hangar to return to Pollux, choosing instead to bury herself in her confused husband's arms. Somehow, she knew this would not be the last she saw of him. But it would be the last time they would ever tell each other that they loved each other.