"What the hell…?" Jean Luc gawks at the house. "Beverly," he turns in a moment of determination. "Stay here with Wes and little ones-"

"Oh no!" Wesley barrels out of the back seat. "I'm coming with you."

"Wesley," Jean Luc reasons, similarly stepping out of the still car. "Stay with your mother." His voice takes on a firmer tone. "This is non negotiable."

I see Wesley from the car; his stance is set, feet firmly planted, shoulders squared putting him at Jean Luc's height, and his brown eyes blaze with determination. "You're not going without me."

Jean Luc moves his gaze, yielding to Wesley's stubbornness. "Fine, but stay behind me, and do as I say!" He crouches back to the car, "Beverly, if anything happens, leave. Just go. Take the little ones and go to Hope's – just get out of here. Don't come in after us."

Panic settles in my stomach as I pray that it doesn't come to that. "Beverly?" He demands again, meeting my gaze. "Please."

All I can do is nod dumbly as we move our collective gaze back to the babies in the backseat. "Hopefully," he sighs. "We'll be right out."

He moves to leave. "Wait, Jean Luc!"

His face reappears in haste. "What?"

"I love you." I have to say it; it's obligatory.

A tiny smile tugs at him. "I love you… Now remember if anything happens…"

I nod quickly. "I know."

Please, God, I beg. If you exist, don't let anything happen.

Fear and anticipation eat at me as I see their figures disappear into the house. If I think it, then it won't happen. If I conjure the images, I'll effectively banish them from existence. I'm anticipating, out of trepidation and my own worst nightmares, the bright flash of phaser fire. But, there's nothing as my eyes move rapidly, trying to follow their collective movements from the windows.

I see Jean Luc move in front of the living room windows. I move up closer in the seat, honing my visual field. The living room, from what I see, is a mess. The cushions from the couch are strewn all over the floor, our paintings hang sideways, and the books from the bookshelf are carelessly thrown every which way. Jean Luc has to raise his legs to step over what I can only imagine is more mess, more carnage. Who could have done this? What were they looking for?

My gaze then moves to the study, where I see Wesley similarly stepping over piles of books and padds. I see him check behind the doors, under tables. Nothing.

Jean Luc moving in Wesley's bedroom upstairs rivets my attention. He does what Wes did: checks under the bed, behind the doors, in the closet. Nothing. Everything is quiet.

Seconds turn into minutes and still there's no commotion. Even the car is silent; Saoirse's content to look at the trees and the sun, and Aaron is still asleep, head lolled off to the side as he dreams in the car seat. My pulse starts to slow; there's nothing.

I'm still waiting though; waiting for them to come out.

Like a silent, benevolent deity heard my prayer, their solemn forms finally emerge from the house. Wesley's shoulders elevate in question as he holds my gaze. "Anything?" I mouth.

Jean Luc shakes his head. "Nothing."

"I think it's safe, Beverly," he shrugs coming back to sit in the car.

"We didn't find anything," Wesley scoots past Saoirse. "But they destroyed the house."

I roll my eyes. "Well it looks like the lawn and the garden aren't the only things that are going to need tending to." My fingers rub my tired eyes, "When are we every going to catch a break?"

"Wesley," Jean Luc turns in his seat. "Do you still have your tricorder?"

"Uh," He leans forward to again sit between us. "Yeah, it's in my room, I think. Why?"

"The tricoder is able to pick up signals…" he bows his head.

"You mean if whoever did this planted something?" Wesley sits back, taking Saoirse's little hand and gleaning some comfort from her childish naiveté.

"It's unlikely, but we can't be too careful." He looks up to regard him again. "We'll have to boost internal sensors on the house. Do you know how to do that?"

"Yeah, I remember doing it on the Enterprise – the house is much simpler." I feel his eyes on me. "Mom?"

I raise my head from my palms.

"Are you okay?" His voice is tentative, laced with concern.

I smile, feigning peace. "Fine, Wes."

His hand snakes around my shoulders as he hugs me against the seat. "We're all scared mom. And we're all tired. But," he kisses my cheek. "It'll be over soon."

I take the hand he's wrapped around my shoulders, squeezing it as I hug it to me. "Thank you, W-"

"Beverly?" Jean Luc's head perks and he turns in his seat as if looking for something. "Was that your communicator?"

For a moment we're all silent, listening for the aberrant sound… Yes, there's a small vibration coming from the back seat. "Wesley would you mind reaching in my bag in the back?"

The swipe of a finger brings the small device to life. "Who is it from?" Jean Luc looks on.

"Kathryn," I look up confused. "She wants to meet. She says there's someone who wants to talk to us."

Thanks everyone!

Linds: Thanks a million, as always :)

Martin: Oh, Martin. We shall see, we shall see. I have plans in store! Just you wait :)

Sasha: I know :) don't hate me. I just like to see you squirm :)

Mels: Thank you thank you! I'm still in the nebulous stages of working the whole thing through. I have some ideas, but more are always welcome.

Meg: Here you are :)

Enjoy everyone! Can't wait to hear all of your predictions! :) -Becca