"Elle, report to Sickbay. Elle Wilcott, report to Sickbay."

Satel looked up from his Vulcan calligraphy practice. "Did you skip your quarterly exam?" he asked, mild reproof in his voice.

"No," Elle protested, resting her brush back in its stand. "I'll be back in a bit, I guess."

Tyler waved a hand. "Go, before Dr. Crusher comes after you herself."

Satel glanced over at Tyler's practice sheet. "Your downstrokes are crooked," he said. "You should angle your paper another ten degrees."

Tyler frowned down at his paper. "A lot of work for one phrase."

"If you were a Vulcan, you would have had to take this class since you were five years old," Satel said dryly.

Elle lost the rest of the conversation as the door closed behind her. She high-tailed it to Sickbay and found Picard, Troi, and Crusher huddled outside one of the larger exam rooms. Elle glanced in through the window. There were four Talarians and a human boy, each of them curled up on biobeds. "Oh, this episode," Elle realized.

Picard heaved a sigh in relief. "This is an episode, then, thank goodness. What happened, Elle? Who is this boy, and how did he come to be with the Talarians?"

"First of all, he's been adopted into their culture, he's fine where he is, he doesn't need to be humanized, and no, they're not mistreating him," Elle said.

"The evidence," Dr. Crusher started.

Elle raised an eyebrow. "He's a teenage boy in a rough and tumble society, Doctor. You're telling me you don't think those boys would've been wrestling every day?"

Dr. Crusher conceded the point with a grimace.

"Bloodwork says he's Jeremiah Rossa," a nurse said,

"As in Admiral Rossa?" Picard asked, interested.

Elle nodded. "But he doesn't remember any human family. He thinks he's Talarian, he doesn't want to be human. He's happy there."

Picard frowned. "Well, a Talarian warship is on its way to meet us. We shall have our answers then. In the meantime, Elle, could you ask him for confirmation?"

Elle shook her head. "Talarians are too patriarchal. They wouldn't listen to me. He's the adopted son of the captain of whatever ship he's from, you're the only one he'll really listen to."

Picard made a face.

Elle grinned at him. "Oh come on, captain, you can't say you don't like kids anymore. You do great with me and Wes."

He wrinkled his nose at her. "You didn't exactly give me a choice, did you?"

Troi smothered a grin. "Be that as it may, sir, if Talarians are so highly hierarchal, you may be the only option."

He heaved a sigh, straightened his jacket, and went into the room, pasting an awkward smile on his face.

Elle turned into Troi's side to hide her laughter.

They watched with unabashed interest as Picard spoke to the boys and received unwavering attention. The human, Jono, spoke animatedly and waved his hands. Picard's back got real tense, and he spoke some more. Jono waved his hands some more. Picard nodded, and all the boys relaxed.

The captain came back out, and Elle tried to look mildly disinterested. "What's the verdict?" Elle asked.

"He claims the captain of the Q'Maire is his father, that he wishes to return to Endar with the other boys, and that he wouldn't want to be a human if his life depended on it."

Elle winced. "Well, to decrease the likelihood of you being stabbed, I'd say we leave him alone."

"Who said anything about being stabbed?" Dr. Crusher demanded.

"The script," Elle said dryly.

"I would prefer to not be stabbed," Picard said.

"I think everybody would prefer you not be stabbed, captain," Troi replied dryly. "And Jono does seem to be telling the truth."

Picard tugged his jacket down. "I see." He nodded. "Excuse me." He walked off.

Elle hurried after him. "You're not gonna force Jono to stay here, are you?" she asked.

"No," Picard said. "It is unusual, a human Talarian, but stranger things have happened. If he's happy there, there is no reason to uproot him."

Elle went back to her study group, to find Tyler covered in ink and Satel with his face in his hands. "Wh..." Elle trailed off, unable to stop herself from laughing. "What happened?" she gasped out.

"I knocked over the ink bottle," Tyler said glumly, wiping ink off the bridge of his nose and making a long, dark smear under his eye. "Ugh."

Satel stayed silent, but his shoulders shook suspiciously. He was laughing.

Elle cleared her throat and patted Tyler gingerly on the shoulder. "I'll, uh, get you a stack of wet wipes. Maybe the toddlers have some extras."

Satel let out a stifled noise and curled over almost in half, trying to keep his composure.

"Thanks," Tyler said glumly. "Do you know if this washes out?"

"You know Vulcans," Elle said, "everything they create's gotta last for the next ten thousand years."

Tyler sighed. "Aww. This was a vintage band shirt."

Satel stood up and stalked from the room, lips tightly pressed together in a forbidding expression.

"Is he mad?" Tyler asked, suddenly realizing.

Elle sniggered. "He's not mad, don't worry." Note to self, go find that security footage. That must've been hilarious. She left him mopping up puddles of ink with his sleeve and crossed the hallway to the nearest replicator.

Two stacks of wet wipes later, there was still ink in the carpet. Elle sent Tyler away to change and called for Commander Stabby. Commander Stabby sent one of his wet-vac minions, who slurped up the mess and steam-cleaned the carpet. The wet-vac whistled cheerfully as it left.

Elle gathered up the mess of papers and pens and took them to her own quarters. She didn't want to disturb Satel's attempts to regain emotional equilibrium.

"Elle, your dinner and movie appointment with Satel and Tyler is coming up in fifteen," Alexa announced.

Elle snorted. "Well, Satel's meditating his mirth away and Tyler looks like a Rorshach drawing, so I think those plans are canceled. I'm just gonna eat in Ten-Forward."

"Tonight's special is Korean kimbap," Alexa said.

"Ooh."

The captain appeared twenty minutes later, just as Elle had taken a huge bite of food. "Ah, Elle."

She waved and covered her mouth with a napkin.

He sat down across from her, amused. "Good food?"

Elle finished chewing and swallowing and said, "Anything that comes wrapped in rice, captain."

"Hm. I'll have to find some."

Guinan appeared with a plate. "Dinner, captain?" she asked serenely and set a sampler platter of kimbap rolls on the table. She placed a cup of tea down and glided away, hat tilted at a jaunty angle.

"That woman is magic," Picard said suspiciously.

Elle snorted. "Just because Q's scared of her, captain..."

He took a bite of food and hummed appreciatively. "Hm. Anyway. The warship Q'Maire has departed with the boys. We have their grudging appreciation."

"Better than a war declaration," Elle pointed out.

"True." He sighed. "I shall have to inform Admiral Rossa that her grandson is now a Talarian."

"Better than dead," Elle said.

"True again." He ate another roll. "If I was going to have a family, I would like to have them with me."

Elle smothered a grin. "Changing your mind about kids, captain?"

"Certainly not," he said with asperity. "I think you and Wes are all I can handle." He stuffed another bite into his mouth. "Mm. Excellent dipping sauce."

She grinned.

-/\-

"Wait, who's coming onboard?" Elle asked, jogging to catch up to Dr. Crusher and Captain Picard, who were totally not holding hands.

"Dr. Dalen Quaice," Dr. Crusher said. "My mentor and my dear friend. He's like my Bones."

"Aww," Elle said. "And since Wesley's not here it won't be an episode and we can have a nice time."

Picard raised an eyebrow. "You and Wes have a falling-out, Elle?"

"No, but in the episode, he was experimenting with a warp field and Beverly got sucked into it. You won't now, I guess."

Picard's other eyebrow went up.

"Geordi's not running any experiments on the warp field, I checked," Elle said.

"Well, you seem to have everything in hand," the captain said, amused. "Shall we?"

"Are you going to go to the new officer orientation this evening, captain?" Elle asked, trailing them.

"No. Are you?"

"I want to see if anybody falls in the pool this time," Elle said, smashing down her inappropriate glee at the thought.

Picard snorted. "If anybody falls in the pool this time, I'm going to have to start an investigation into inappropriate hazing."

They reached the transporter room. "One to beam up, Chief," Picard ordered.

O'Brien nodded and beamed up a silver mustache attached to a man.

"Dalen," Beverly said, coming forward to hug him.

"Beverly, it's so good to see you again," he said, hugging her tightly. "So kind of the captain to give me a lift."

"Not at all," Picard said, shaking his hand.

"And who's this?" Dr. Quaice asked, turning to Elle. "Your new apprentice? Or has Wesley grown his hair out?"

Elle snorted. "Elle Wilcott, civilian mission consultant. A pleasure to meet you."

"And you, my dear. Elle Wilcott. I've heard that name before." He snapped his fingers. "You're Leonard's girl. Not Joanna, the other one."

Elle smiled. "You know Bones?"

"Of course I do." He patted Elle's hand.

They escorted Dr. Quaice to his rooms and Beverly decided to take him on a brief tour. "Join us, captain?" she asked.

Picard agreed, and Elle left them to go see the new officers, who were being ushered and shepherded through the ship by various yeomen and department flunkies. She found a whole bunch just entering Ten-Forward, and sat down at the bar to observe them interact with the Enterprisers.

Guinan glided over and passed Elle a fruit smoothie. "Anything good?" she asked.

"Just observing," Elle said. You could always tell who'd been on active starships before. It was, to unfortunately quote Caroline Bingley, 'something in their air, or manner of walking.' And the way that being harried through the ship didn't phase them, not like it did the newbies. They had "space legs". The newbies did not. They looked wide-eyed, lost, and way too excited to be on the flagship of the Federation. Too young. "Says the sixteen-year-old," Elle muttered to herself mockingly.

"Dubious perks of being a starship child," said someone behind her. "You grow up too quickly."

Elle turned to look at the new person. A lieutenant commander, one of the new transfers. "I know," she said dryly.

"I know you know," he replied, an odd grin on his face. He held out a hand. "Lt. Commander Thomas Rand."

"Thomas Rand, Janice Rand?" Elle asked, delighted.

"The very one." He grinned. "I was hoping you'd be here during my tenure. Grandma Jan always had a good story about you and the Romulans?"

Elle grinned. "Ah yes. Feels like just a few months ago."

He snorted. "I'm sure it does. I grew up on the Excelsior."

"Nice."

He got a drink from Guinan and leaned on the bar. "I'll only be here a couple of months, I'm just updating features on the library core, but I'm glad I got to see you in person."

"Me too," Elle said. "Seems like everywhere I go, there's somebody from the Enterprise or somebody related to my people on the Enterprise."

"We're a huge group," Rand said. "We'll have to rent out a small country if we ever do another reunion."

"Now that would be fun," Elle said.

He finished his drink and stood up. "I have to check in with Engineering. Good to meet you, miss ambassador."

Elle raised an eyebrow. "Miss Ambassador? Did I get a posthumous nickname?"

"You did," he said, snickering. "You yelling at Ambassador Sarek and Admiral Nogura in the same year made an impression."

Elle's ears lit on fire. "No way."

"You should ask an admiral what else they call you." He gave a jaunty salute and walked away.

Elle stared after him in mute mortification. What else would they call her? Oh, Great Bird.

"You all right, Elle?" Riker asked, walking up to her. "One of the new officers pull your pigtails?"

Elle leaned against the bar. "You know that episode of Doctor Who where the Doctor gets a Dalek to erase him from their shared database so that nobody knows who he is and they'll stop growing in opposition?"

"No," Riker said frankly.

"Well if you happen to see a Dalek I'm gonna need it," Elle said.

Riker huffed a laugh. "What?"

"Mr. Rand over there just called me 'miss ambassador', and apparently I have another nickname... for being classified beyond belief and only existing for a limited time in the past, I'm having a bit of a notoriety problem."

Riker's jaw dropped. "Wait a second..." He put a hand over his mouth to cover his laugh. "It's you."

"Oh Great Bird," Elle said despairingly. "What is it?"

He sat down to laugh, holding his stomach. "I knew it," he gasped out. "I just knew it."

"What?" she demanded.

"You're the Brass Cleaner," he choked out and leaned over to hoot into the counter.

"The what."

Guinan glided over, looking far too amused to be ignorant. "What's the joke?" she asked.

Elle turned beseeching eyes. "Guinan. Tell me I'm not known as the Brass Cleaner."

Guinan pressed her lips together tightly. "Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies."

Elle gasped. "I was only there for two years, that's so dumb!" she half-whispered, half-screeched. "What, what kind of-"

"Well the first thing you did when you were conscious in the 24th century was to tell an admiral to shove it," Guinan pointed out.

"I did no such thing."

"Yes, you did," Riker said, "I was there. And besides, how many other figures of authority, enemy officers, spies, and omnipotent beings have you hollered at in the last year or so?" He grinned. "It's the best thing I've ever seen in my life, and I presume in anyone else's life, when you tell off an old windbag. I wish you could meet my father."

"I have a speech prepared for him," Elle informed him.

He grinned broadly. "See?"

Elle dropped her head to the counter and hid her face. "You're right. I think I have a problem with authority," she mumbled.

Riker patted her on the back. "You don't. The captain would've intervened if he really wanted to. And you're plenty tactful when you want to be." He grinned at her consolingly. "It's funny, that's all. And it's Star Fleet, Elle. A time-traveling teenager who averts disasters is one of our best worst-kept secrets."

"I guess so."

"At least you don't have a flirting routine named after you," Guinan added, giving Riker the side-eye.

Riker turned red and scrubbed at his beard. "Yes, well, carry on." He patted the top of Elle's head and hurried away.

Elle sat up. "Flirting routine?" she asked, interest piqued.

"One you will not be hearing about," Guinan said firmly. "Now, miss ambassador, don't you have a group project to turn in? Dinner with Beverly and her mentor?"

"Oh yeah." Elle slid off the seat.

-/\-

"Out of curiosity," Elle said, as she and Picard were walking back to their quarters after dinner, "did you know I have a nickname in the admiralty?"

He facepalmed, which answered that question.

"Captain," Elle gasped theatrically. "You didn't tell me?"

"I wouldn't dare," Picard replied. "Besides, I only learned of it when I mind-melded with Ambassador Sarek. He has many fond memories of you, er..."

"Cleaning the brass' clocks?" Elle finished, resigned to it.

"Yes." He chuckled. "I can't say that I mind having a member of the crew who can tell an admiral what we're all thinking. I'm sure Captain Kirk didn't mind it either." He smiled at her. "Never lose your zeal for the truth, Elle."

She mock-saluted. "Sir."

He rolled his eyes. "Now don't you start."

She laughed at him and kissed his cheek. "Night, captain."

"Good night, Elle."

She paused in her doorway. "Hey, since Dr. Quaice is the closest thing Beverly's got to a father, are you gonna ask him-"

"Finish that sentence at your peril," Picard intoned, raising a forbidding eyebrow.

"Night captain," Elle said, and ducked into her room, giggling hysterically.