Gretchen fell into a rhythm of library and prayer wheels, plus gardening, meals, and sleep. While it would not be interesting forever, it was a unique break, and Gretchen was enjoying it.

It was soon Friday again and Gretchen began to prepare herself mentally for the return of her fellow cadets. She had already seen the freshmen, but they were gone again now.

The First Years had been on required maneuvers, and last night had returned to campus briefly, only to clear out again within a few hours. They got a single extra day off for Fall Break and none of them wanted to spend a moment of it at the Academy.

Gretchen was rather shocked when she got to the entrance of the rose garden and saw a single female cadet sitting on one of the benches.

There were two suitcases sitting next to her, and she had one hand to her head, covering most of her face. Gretchen realized that she was crying.

Should I do something?

From what Gretchen could see her face was very young. The severe bun her hair was in, and the prim uniform on her body made it look as if she was playing dress up.

Gretchen debated awkwardly for a moment.

The girl looked up then, and Gretchen startled as she realized it was Marla Gilmore.

"Are you alright?" asked Gretchen automatically, despite this being the younger version of her mother's murderer.

"Oh, I….uh," said Marla, falteringly, "I'm okay."

The girl gave her an embarrassed, but very weak smile, and Gretchen was not fooled for a moment.

"I'm okay, really" said the girl, with a little more strength, "My family will be picking me up soon."

"Are they cruel people?" asked Gretchen quickly, "Or did something happen to them?"

"Oh no," said Marla, shaking her head, "Nothing like that I….."

The girl looked down again, "I just," she said twisting her hands together, "I planned this big get together with my friends…" Marla stumbled on the word, "My roommates….Jill told me right away she couldn't go, she never stops studying…but Cindy and Siobhan agreed to go with me…even yesterday they were still saying they would….but I went to bed early and when I got up today they were already gone. No messages or anything, they were supposed to meet me here two hours ago….I…I guess they changed their minds."

"Jerks," said Gretchen suddenly, viciously.

"I….I….maybe," said Marla, eyes wide, looking as if she would cry again. She shut her eyes tightly and sniffed and looked down, stopping herself from doing so.

When she spoke again her voice was very high, "My parents did so much planning for their visit…it's my first semester at the Academy…I don't want them to think I don't have any friends….."

Gretchen stared at her. She knew about loneliness. It ate through your stomach and chocked your throat.

"I'll be your friend."

Why did I say that? To Marla Gilmore, of all people.

"Do you want to come with me?" asked Marla, suddenly looking up hopefully.

"I mean," she continued awkwardly, looking down again, "If you're not doing anything. I'm sure you are but…"

When Gretchen was silent, Marla continued.

"We live in Carmel by the Sea, it's a close trip by shuttle," said Marla eagerly, "It's really pretty. We have a nice house near the beach with a walled garden. It's not particularly big, but it's just my mom and dad and older brother, and he's not home this weekend."

Marla's big blue eyes looked very hopeful.

"I…..that sounds fun," Gretchen found herself saying, as if she was just talking to any Academy freshman.

"Great!," said Marla eagerly, standing up suddenly, "We'll have such a good time. And you're still pretty new to Earth, right?"

"Maybe you could use a friend too," added Marla kindly.

Damn it.

Gretchen did not answer as her mind raced.

The young woman reminded her something of Sam Wildman, and now not only because of her blonde hair and engineering specialty. They were both a little shy, a little timid, and a little insecure. But where Sam was kind all the way through, Marla had a screw loose somewhere. A nastiness lurking somewhere in her soul, that others did not expect. Gretchen was not sure where it had come from, or where it was now, in the open, teenage face.

"Oh, I've been putting my parents off, but I had better call them," said Marla happily, picking up her computer and making the call. Her mother answered immediately.

"Mom, only one of my friends is going to come now," said Marla quickly, "Her name is Gretchen. She's actually a diplomatic admission, so we can show her all about Earth," Her voice was eager, and Gretchen was not sure how she had managed to have Marla Gilmore show her Earth, the homeland Voyager had been seeking so long.

But Gretchen had made her decision, and stood patiently as the call ended. As Marla clicked off she told Gretchen she had about a half hour to pack, as her parents had their own shuttle. They had only been waiting on Marla's go ahead to come pick her up.

Gretchen went to her dorm alone and returned with an Academy bag full of basic clothing and toiletries. Gretchen and Marla made a short trip to the landing spot, and soon both of Marla's parents arrived.

Gretchen did not flinch as Marla's father shook her hand, or as her mother hugged her. On the shuttle ride, they repeatedly thanked Gretchen for coming, and wondered what her preferences were in food and sightseeing.

Marla's father was a civilian engineer, who spoke a mile a minute. Marla had clearly gotten his science brain and blonde hair, but not his confidence and gregarious nature.

Marla's mother was not what she had expected. She was very pretty, and to Gretchen, shockingly young. Gretchen had been born to a 50-year-old veteran Starfleet Captain. Marla's mother was not 50 now, even with two grown children. Gretchen could've almost believed she was under 40.

And Gretchen quickly realized from the way she moved, that she was a dancer.

Life is very strange.

It was well past noon by the time that they arrived in town, and Marla's father asked Gretchen if she liked Italian food. Gretchen had never been to a real restaurant before, and the trattoria was antique and very charming.

"My mother promised to take me to Florence," Gretchen found herself saying, "I wonder if it's like this."

"Florence is a wonderful place to visit," said Ben, "We saw it on our honeymoon," he said smiling, winking at his wife, Gemma.

Does everyone go on their honeymoon there?

"My mother was going to go there for her honeymoon with her fiancé….." said Gretchen, just to continue speaking and distract herself from the strange situation, "But she married my father instead."

"Scandalous," said Gemma playfully, sinking into her husband's side, as he draped his arm around her shoulders.

"Well," said Gretchen awkwardly, "There were years between it. But obviously I'm glad she married my father instead."

"How did your parents take you attending the Academy?" asked Ben, "Are they Starfleet?"

She could see Marla shaking her head out of her peripheral vision, seeming to warn her father against the unhappy subject.

Gretchen answered anyway. Not wanting to be sad, she leaned into the questions instead.

"My mother's Starfleet," said Gretchen, "My father was a member of a terrorist organization. They were stuck on the same ship in a survival situation and ended up falling in love."

"My grandfather was an Admiral," she continued, "I'm sure they'd all be proud I was at the Academy. If they were here to see it," ended Gretchen, beginning to look away.

"I'm sure they would be," said Gemma, making eye contact and smiling.

"Let's go to the First Contact Museum after this," said Ben, changing the subject, "If Gretchen's never been there it's certainly worth seeing."

"Are we going to see the show tonight mom?" asked Marla.

"Well, that's up to Gretchen," said Gemma, "I don't know if she'd want to. Tap dancing isn't so popular with young people."

"Mom has her own theater," said Marla eagerly, turning to Gretchen, "She performs every Friday and Saturday night. If you haven't seen a show like that, you definitely should,"

"It's more of a club," said Gemma, "And I'm not offended in the slightest if you'd rather do something else. Marla's seen the show dozens of times."

"But Gretchen hasn't," insisted Marla, learning over the table in her eagerness, "Mom, you shouldn't undersell it. Then she'll never go."

"I'd like to see it," said Gretchen, "I'm a dancer."

Gemma smiled at her, "I thought you were. If you come early, I'll show you the behind the scenes."

Marla was much more eager to show off her mother than to see the museum, and in the end they all agreed to go to the club after lunch.

The Caberet, as the large letters in front proclaimed, was a small, dark paneled room filled with wooden chairs and small tables, accented with black.

"It seats 50 people comfortably, and 70 when we have to," said Ben.

At the front there was a stage with an old fashioned curtain. Marla's mother immediately hopped on to the platform and began stretching.

"Come on Gretchen," said Gemma, "If you're a dancer, come and tryout the spotlight."

Even though the seats were empty, Gretchen felt very strange looking out. She followed Marla's mother through her stretching routine. Gemma then put on her tap shoes and offered Gretchen a pair.

"Marla, do you want to join us?" asked Gemma, holding a pair out to her daughter, who was still standing in front. Ben had taken a seat in the back.

"No," said Marla happily, holding her arms in an X in front of her, "I got my father's clumsiness and I'm proud of it."

Marla then went to sit beside her father. Gemma smiled and Gretchen felt as if that exchange must have happened dozens of times before.

Gemma turned to Gretchen and helped her lace up the shoes.

"Okay, Gretchen," said Gemma, "Like this."

Gemma showed her step after step, and after about an hour of practice Gretchen could do a very short routine. Gemma began a cool down and Gretchen followed. Then they both took off their specialized tap shoes.

"Good job Gretchen," said Gemma, "You clearly have talent. What kind of dance do you specialize in?"

"I have the most experience in ballet," answered Gretchen, "But lyrical is my favorite."

"Ah, I thought you looked a bit dramatic," said Gemma winking, "You'll have to show me next time."

"Well child," said Gemma, hopping off the stage and addressing Marla, "It's almost 4:00 now and the show starts at 7:00. What would you two like to do until then?"

"Why don't you all wander the streets?" said Ben, "It's a beautiful town. You can take a look at everything and pop in the shops. I'll stay with your mom and help her get set up."

Gretchen nodded at Marla's questioning look, and the two of them set off for the town.

With fewer eyes on her now, Gretchen had a chance to look out, and really realize she was off campus. The town was quaint, but indeed pretty. It seemed to be modeled after a former era in Earth's history. She wondered again, as they wandered a cobblestone street, how she had managed to have Marla Gilmore be the one to show her Earth.

The Academy had still been part of Starfleet, part of the quasi-military organization of ships and officers that she had known since childhood. But this was truly civilian Earth, Earth the homeland. No one they passed was wearing a uniform. The color scheme was not Starfleet, that insignia was nowhere to be found. They were truly, really somewhere that Starfleet did not dominate. Gretchen was not certain how she felt about that.

Gretchen was in something of a haze, and the time passed quickly for them to return to the Caberet Club.

When they returned the sign outside of the theater was lit, and music could be heard from inside. There were people outside the doors talking, and when they went inside there were many more seated. Marla's father caught them, and directed them to reserved seats.

"The best in the house," he winked, directing them to a table in the back, the one he and Marla had been sitting at earlier. There was a small menu with appetizers, dinner offerings, and desserts. Marla encouraged her to order whatever she wanted, that it would all be complimentary.

Gretchen was still taking in the atmosphere when the lights dimmed, and a spot light focused on the stage.

Ben's voice rang out from overhead, "And now, your tap dancing sensation, the most beautiful woman in the world, and my wife: Gemma Gilmore!"

The audience clapped as the curtains opened and no one clapped louder than Marla, whose eyes were riveted on her mother.

She's a very good dancer, thought Gretchen, as the show continued. Marla's mom performed three numbers, and then took a break as five local teenagers performed a dance. They were followed by a group of college students who did two numbers. Then there was a break in the dancing, and a quartet of classical musicians came and played as people made a food or drink order and began to talk. When about half an hour had passed, the lights dimmed again, and Gretchen could tell immediately the show was ramping up.

Bubbles began to float through the air, and there was a live singer and a pianist played as Gemma made her second entrance. There was fog and multi-colored lights as the show continued. It made it look as if they were all floating in the clouds.

As the show went on Gemma danced with each of the dancers from before, and at the last dance all of them performed with Gemma in the center leading them.

As the last note of the beautiful soloist faded, and the crowd clapped, Marla was the first to her feet, cheering loudly. It was not the cheer, but the look of absolute admiration on Marla's face that froze Gretchen.

Even as Gretchen raised and clapped too, the bottom fell out of her stomach. As Gemma found Marla's eyes from the stage and smiled, clearly as in love with her daughter as her daughter was with her, Gretchen could only stare.

She hated it.

Marla was so proud of her mother, as proud as Gretchen had been of hers.

How had Marla gone from idolizing her tap dancing mother, to ripping sentient beings to shreds?

To a traitor that had murdered Gretchen's mother and chocked Gretchen near to death?

Who had become a monster.

A monster in Hell.

Gretchen shuddered, though the Academy uniform she was still wearing was warm.

As the lights came on full force Gretchen stumbled a bit as she took her seat again. Marla's face made it clear that she had not noticed, she was smiling widely, looking very young and very happy as she sat down.

"Now people will leave, or stay and talk, or play games," said Marla, as the classical quartet ascended the stage again and some soft music began, "On Fridays this closes at 10:00. On Saturdays it's 12:00. On very special holidays it's 2:00 or 3:00. On New Year's we don't close until dawn. That's an old family tradition," she said smiling nostalgically.

Marla noticed Gretchen's odd look then, and mistook it for boredom.

"Well, what would you like to do now?" Marla asked, a bit awkwardly, but still very friendly, "Are you looking for something livelier? Or are you tired after this strange day?"

Marla is being nice. Gretchen thought resentfully. Marla is being nice and I don't want to be nice to her.

"I think I am a bit tired," said Gretchen politely, despite herself, "But I don't want to ruin your fun. Could you drop me home? Or could I walk?"

It'd be nice to be by myself for awhile.

"Oh, no," said Marla, smiling again, apparently relieved, "I've been in the club a million times, now that the show's over I don't mind going home. And if you're tired we can go to bed, we've got a big day planned tomorrow!"

Marla was still very enthusiastic as she and Gretchen made their goodbyes. Gretchen thanked the Gilmores, and complimented Gemma profusely, as she had been truly impressed by the show.

When they left the club, Marla began walking to the right. Gretchen was hoping she could clear her head on the walk, but suddenly Marla turned and gestured.

"Ta-da!" she said enthusiastically, "We live next door!"

"Don't worry," Marla said as she opened the door, "There's a garden and two solid walls between, we don't get any noise from the club. My room's super quiet. You'll sleep like a baby!"

Her room? Thought Gretchen, with a sense of foreboding.

They entered through the doorway, of what looked like a small living room. Marla turned on the lights of the attached kitchen and they both walked through it together. Then she passed a hall and entered another doorway and turned on more lights.

"Ta-da!" said Marla again, showing a bedroom decorated in white and pink. There were two matching twin beds, with lace comforters, and a dark red couch, that clearly had been moved in recently. Gretchen had heard of sleepovers, but had never thought she would be having one with Marla Gilmore.

Damn it, thought Gretchen, trying somehow not to show it on her face.

Why am I worried about being polite to my mother's murderer?

Gretchen had apparently succeeded in being polite, because Marla still looked quite happy.

I bet she's been looking forward to this for months, thought Gretchen, Sharing her house and her family and her town with her friends. I bet she's been planning and daydreaming since she first started at the Academy. And then her roommates disappointed her.

Gretchen knew something about being disappointed.

It was that thought that carried her through the next half hour with a fake smile on her face.