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Description
Liz

Liz loved the situation of her bed in her room.  It was large, because she enjoyed her space when she wanted it, and it faced the long panoramic view of space that flashed by outside the ship.  She knew some people were disconcerted by the wide windows, but they made her room feel larger, less encompassing.  When she lay in bed alone or, on some nights, with company, she could look out that window and feel like there was so much more going on in the universe beyond her bedroom.

It was some time after three in the morning when Liz sat up amongst the tousled sheets, being careful not to waken the man sleeping on the other side while she slipped on a robe.  It was thick terry cloth, worn down somewhat, and in a deep forest green that complemented her hair and her eyes.  Her grandda had bought it for her the Christmas before she left for Starfleet Academy.  She didn't wear it for modesty—she didn't have any to speak of, and wasn't embarrassed of herself, naked or otherwise.  Liz simply enjoyed the feel of it, and when she walked to the window to look out pulled it tighter around her.

How many of those stars and moons and planets have I been to? She thought to herself, silent in the darkened room.  It was full of her things, but she could hardly consider it home.  When you did what she did every day, you learned to make your home wherever you happened to be, because you could always be reassigned.  Where was her real home?  Sometimes she thought it was in Ireland with her grandfather, sometimes Starfleet.  Certainly it wasn't the house she had lived in with her mother, and her father when he graced them with his presence, although that was more curse than blessing.  I wonder where they are out there?  Of course she could have figured it out, but the mystery was more special.

Feeling a little chilly, even in the climate-controlled room, Liz shivered.  Looking out at this unencumbered view of the stars always made her cold after awhile.  When she glanced away again she realized she had been standing with her hand to the pane for almost half an hour.  Looking back towards the bed, her red hair spilling in crazy ringlets across her shoulders, the half-Orion considered the man sleeping there.  Although she had many rules about how her casual affairs were to be conducted, kicking people out after sex wasn't one of them.  She knew that sleeping together was a sort of bonding by itself, and that the morning after could be awkward, but she chose the men she slept with very carefully.  There had been no bruised feelings or awkward scenes in a long, long time…  At least not when she stuck to the rules.

Trembling slightly, feet feeling like icicles, Liz finally fled back to the warm cocoon of her bed and the body inside it.  The thoughts coursing through her were too deep, she thought, for a 3 A.M. morning when she wasn't on duty.  With a smile curving her lips she snuggled into her bedfellow, rubbing an icy foot along his leg.  He jumped, woke with some incomprehensible murmur, and blinked at her sleepily.

"Your feet are like ice cubes," he finally muttered, rolling to his right side so he could look at her properly.  Her head was propped up on her left arm; she smiled devilishly, and looked completely awake besides.  She wore a simple bathrobe and nothing else, and the flashes of skin did a lot to wake him up as well.  Liz laughed, a husky bed laugh, and when she ran a hand down his body to find him ready he hardened more at the sound than her touch

"Sorry about that.  I guess I'm just a little cold."  Drawing the blankets around her Liz straddled him, and then leaned back so that he could run his hands along her body, brushing fingers over the nipples which had already grown taut and begun to ache.  "I'm always so cold out here," she added on a quiet sigh, so soft that it was lost in the silence of the room, which was still except for the sliding of sheets and the whisper of skin on skin.  Hers looked so much richer in the dark, and his seemed to glow white as he rose up to kiss her.   When she turned her head to allow him access, she could just see the window on her right, an infinite darkness filled to bursting with stars.  She smiled at it as she lifted her hips, slid onto him, began to ride a steady rhythm as their heartbeats quickened to pounding in their chests.  At the end she laughed again, but the sound was lonely on the quiet ship.

When it was done, and he was once again asleep beside her, Liz lay in the cradle of his arm and stared silently at the ceiling.  The window was still open and inviting, but she couldn't bring herself to watch it now.  It was very late when she finally fell asleep to the steady inhale and exhale of his breathing in the ever-present darkness, and when she had woken up he was nowhere to be found.

She had known about the docking for some time now, but it wasn't until she ran into Sulu that day that she found out the Legacy would be docked there as well.  All the air went out of her lungs, and the sonic screwdriver she'd been using slipped from her fingers, slicing one as it fell.

"Ow!  God dammit, you're sure?"  She could hear the Irish spring unbidden to her voice as she hastily stuck the injured finger in her mouth, tasting blood that wasn't foreign to her.  Sulu, looking somewhat surprised by the reaction and then intensely curious, nodded.  "Grayson confirmed the schedule with the station earlier this morning, while I was on duty.  We'll be landing in a couple of hours tops.  Aren't you excited?  You look a little pale."

Liz was certain she did.  She considered just dropping the task at hand to go hide in her room, but only for a second.  Then the stubborn part kicked in, her Grandda's part, and she took up the screwdriver again.  "Of course I'm excited, we haven't docked at a station in months.  I just don't think I'll have time to go anywhere—after all, the entire system needs a reboot, and who knows when we'll have this kind of time again?

Sulu pouted.  She was the sort of girl who looked forward to her leaves with gusto, and they had made vague partying plans for the next dock.  It was obvious she suspected some of the reasons for this sudden, urgent attention the ship needed, but she didn't have the whole story—nobody did.  It was something Liz kept closely guarded, but lately her ability to separate parts of her life seemed to be weakening, growing chinks in the armor.  It worried the Orion to no end.  Inohara wasn't a bad friend, not really, but Liz wasn't used to female companionship, and she didn't have anyone here she could really consider a best friend.  Had she ever had one?  She must have, once.  She found herself desperately missing the quiet talks in bed after she and Tantomus had been together, how she would watch the strong line of his jaw move when he spoke.

"So, I mean, I'm not sure…" she finished lamely, having totally lost her train of thought with a painful jolt to the chest.   The skeptical look she received from Sulu's lidded eyes was answer enough to her awful concentration.  "You know, I think I'm done with this for the day."  Even her resolve had faltered, and although she tried not to consider it a failure, she wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by other people—people who weren't looking at her like she'd grown an extra head.  "Maybe I'll go to the lounge, get a drink."

"Sounds nice," Sulu sighed with resignation, "but I have to finish reports from our last mission, which totally blows, but I don't want anything getting in the way of my vacation.  Meet up with you later?"

They agreed to meet, but Liz was secretly glad when she was left alone to replace her tools and go back to her room to change.  There were two dresses that were hung in the corner of her closet, although she hadn't touched them since hanging them there.  Liz had never held much with superstition or symbols, but for some reason she couldn't make herself wear them.  Both held a strong memory in her mind.
"This docking is going to be pure hell."

The next morning she was again alone in bed, but no one had spent the night, either.  She knew better than to try to make plans like that when she was in so much emotional turmoil—it was one of the rules she adhered to that had done well by her for so many years.  So despite the fact that she wanted nothing more than a few hours of mindless physical exercise, she went back to her room alone.  That night, when the question Where is he? came unbidden to her mind, she could almost answer it.  The Legacy was scheduled to dock the next morning.  She was scheduled for shore leave the same time.

It was a rough night, with very little sleeping involved.

"Forrester!"

Liz cringed at being discovered.  Shit, she thought vehemently, but outwardly continued to enter commands into the main computer in Engineering.  The owner of the voice, the tan, brawny, good-looking First Officer Kent, held the door jamb with one hand and swung himself inside.  The sound was distinctive, especially when you heard it as often as she did; very warm, and very loud.  His green eyes, which always seemed mischievous unless they were angry, were flashing beneath his unruly mop of curly chestnut hair.  The yellow uniform really didn't suit him at all, Liz thought for no particular reason.  He swaggered closer to lean over her seat, looking at her screen without any real interest.  "What are you still doing here?"

"I'm running diagnostics.  Sir."  Kent, she was almost sure, was younger than her by at least a few years.  It felt odd to be taking commands from him, but he was a decent Commander and a good man.  She was never really sure how he and the Captain got along, though—after all, Kent almost completely embodied what it was to be a Human, while T'Preea was quintessentially Vulcan.  Still, Liz thought with a small smile, she imagined that on their various missions the two had gotten decent looks at what it was like to be in each other's shoes.

"Well, knock it off.  The Venture is fine."  He patted the wall in a fond way, like one might a favored horse.  "We have the best Engineer in Starfleet, after all."

"Thank you, Sir."  Oh crap.

"Call me Kent.  How many times do I have to tell you people?  Anyway, your job is done.  Go, you're scheduled for leave at…. One hour ago."  He checked a screen, then another, and then looked at her again.  "You aren't moving."

She took a breath.  "With all respect, Commander, I would feel much better staying on the ship to run these diagnostics."  Liz shot him a sideways glance.  "You guys run her too damn hard.  It's like being on Kirk's ship all over again."  He smirked, literally smirked at her.

"You think she can't take it?"

"I know damn well she can, I helped build her!" The engineer bristled, like she always did when anyone suggested the Venture might not be in top condition.  "She's freakin' perfect."

"Good.  Then take the day off, Lieutenant Commander.  I want you off this ship—that's an order."

When she watched him stride out of Engineering, she could have killed them both.  "Damn my big mouth," she muttered, having been completely played.  There was a reason Kent was the First Officer.

Liz did everything she could think of to delay leaving the ship, but eventually she received a very strict-sounding, shouty-capitals PADD message from Kent, insinuating that if she didn't get her butt off of his ship he would remove it bodily.  She considered arguing on principle, but realized all of this avoidance was pretty much equal to cowardice, and for at least a few minutes that gave her the momentum to get to the transporter.

"You're the last one from the first group to leave, L.C," commented the technician on duty.  Arty, who would usually have been there at this time of day, was already on the station.  She felt the bottom drop out of her stomach at the thought, and fought the urge to back pedal.

"Yeah, I guess so.  There was a lot to do first," she added on lamely.  Oh God, just get me there and get it over with already!  Luckily he didn't seem all that eager to chat, so she took her place on the pad.  Getting transported felt, to her thinking, like that moment when you walk from a warm building into the outdoors in winter-time.  Then it was over, and she was looking at the technician on the other side.

He's here he's here somewhere I know he is I can't do this I just can't!  Ran itself through her brain all before she took the two steps off the pad.

"Welcome to the Gravity Station, Chief Forrester." Said the woman in greeting as Liz passed by, and she whipped her head around awkwardly to smile in response before she was too far away.  Everything she did felt like swimming in syrup.  Her heart rate was elevated way beyond normal, and if she looked down at her uniform she could see the material rise and fall at the painful jerks of the irrational organ beneath.
How had it all gotten so out of hand?  It had been a year since she'd last seen him.  There were times—small as they were—when she was almost convinced that she had stopped thinking about him every second of every day.

She should go back on the ship, this was obviously a mistake.

Before she could turn and beat a hasty retreat, however, the comm badge at her breast gave a distracting chirrup.  "Forrester," she answered automatically, before she could think to ignore it.

"Liz!  You did make it down here!  I told Grayson you wouldn't stay cooped up on the Venture forever.  Didn't I tell you?"  There were inarticulate noises from Sulu's end, theoretically the Communications officer admitting his defeat.  "A few of us are already gathered in Wernher's having a drink.  Come join us!  Just for a few minutes."

Listening to the routine sound of Ino's voice had done a little to calm Liz, but the thought of moving any further out into the Station was causing palpitations.  She was on the verge of begging off when her backbone stood up.  What do you think you're doing?  It asked with no little amount of self-disgust.  It's a huge station—the chances of running into him are slim to none, if he's even here today at all.  And if he is, so what?  You did what you had to do.  You're both big kids.  Enough of hiding behind the Venture's skirts, all right?  Grow a pair, Liz!

Well, the last part was a bit weird, but she tried to take the message to heart.

"Yeah, okay," she said into the comm badge, and she could hear the cheers from the other side.  "But just a few drinks.  I don't want to forget this break completely, you know?"  At least not yet, she added to herself.

Tanto

Tantomus was pretty sure he was never, ever, ever going to live down his costume from his most recent mission.  Just thinking about it gave him a headache, as long as pretty much a body-wide green flush of embarrassment, followed by the urge to punch something.  Sure, he was more mature than he might have been a year ago, but did you ever get mature enough to shrug off spandex micro-shorts and a whip?

No.  No, he was pretty sure that never happened, never mind how much Andrew tried to reassure him that nobody would even remember the whole debacle in a few weeks.  Those weeks were going to be torturous; Hiren knew it in the bottom of his soul.

The only thing destined to make it better was the week of rest and relaxation that was ahead of them.  Legacy was due for a refit, as Andrew had only told him about a zillion times, giddy as a kid in a candy store.  That meant stopping off at a Station for the changes.  And that, ladies and gentlemen, meant a vacation.  Seven days of real food, real alcohol, and lots of ladies to stare at while he consumed the previously-mentioned.

Would that take some of the sting out of the ridiculous getup from the previous week?  Maybe.  If he was drunk enough… Which he planned to be.

"So, will you be on Station at all during the refit, or are you planning to just look over the technician's shoulders and drool at the shiny new equipment all week?"  Tanto asked Andrew a few days before the docking.  They were in the Rec Room on a shared off-duty moment, and Tantomus had decided to be a good sport and let Andrew crush him at chess.  Pulverize, really.  Really taking one for the team.

The engineer chuckled good-heartedly as he rubbed his completely barren chin, trying to decide his next soul-stomping move.  Tanto thought of his own scratchy face, trying to remember to add 'shave' on his list of things to do.  The only place Andrew ever seemed able to grow hair was on top of his head, where that crazy mop of blonde hair sprouted up like daisies.  The simile… or metaphor… or whatever, was such an odd one, Tantomus frowned and re-focused on the game.  No wonder he was being beaten so badly.

When the hammer came down, it was the Romulan's second Rook that was unceremoniously kicked from the field.  "I don't think I'm allowed to bother the techs," answered Andrew finally, sitting back and smiling modestly at Tanto's pained look.  "Besides, I get to play around later, to work out all of the bugs.  Why not enjoy a bit of time off?  Ma'Ris wants me to check out this restaurant with her.  You should come along," he added, like this was a brilliant idea he had just come up with.

In reality, he and the others had been trying to find ways to occupy Tantomus during their break.  The costumed-craziness of the past week aside, his mood had been slowly spiraling, and it wasn't hard for anyone to notice, let alone figure out why.  With the anniversary looming, Salem was pricklier than ever, while Tanto merely withdrew into whatever never-ending stash of Romulan Ale he always seemed to have. The worst part, a detail that nobody had thought it wise to mention, was that the Venture was going to be docked at the Station during the same time the Legacy was.

"We have to do something," Ma'Ris had said matter-of-factly the day before when they were discussing it.  Andrew always felt bad talking about Tantomus when he wasn't around, but as the Orion had pointed out, they were his friends, and they were trying to help him out.  "He can't be allowed to mope around like this.  And if he's this bad now, what do you think will happen when he gets on a Station?  He'll just drink himself into a sorry mess, that's what."

Even if Andrew agreed, which he unfortunately did, that didn't mean he had to feel great about the contrivance.  Since it couldn't be too obvious, they had just agreed to try to stay with him and keep an eye on him while he was off the ship.  Tanto had some manners, even if they were just ones he made himself work on to appear normal, so that if they made it plausible enough he wouldn't shake them off… At least not the first day.  As Ma'Ris put it, it was a start.

The chess game mostly lost, Tantomus didn't really think about his move, and told himself that he had willingly given up his Bishop for some undisclosed reason.

"I dunno, I hadn't really planned on doing anything in particular…" he began, but then realized this left him open for all kinds of things and winced.  "I mean, I was just gonna, you know…"

Andrew did know, and that was the problem.  But he played it innocent.  "Well we have a whole week.  Ma'Ris hasn't seen you much for like a month, and I just thought the three of us could do something.  Maybe we could even get Tisch in on it, if they can spare her.  What do you think?"

Tantomus was sunk even before he looked at the wide, excited puppy-dog-brown eyes.  The enthusiasm in Andrew's voice had already done him in.  Aw, hell.  What's one day off of the crazy-train, anyway?  "Yeah, okay, what the heck."

"Great!"  exclaimed his friend, with real good humor.  Then his face fell a bit and he looked almost sheepish.  "Also, check mate."

"Fvadt."  It was pretty much the only reaction he could muster.  He felt slightly steamrolled, both by the game and by the prospect of hanging out with his friends on the Station, and that added a small element of concern to the consternation.  Shouldn't he want to hang out with his friends?  But if he was honest with himself, which was probably the hardest thing he ever had to do, he didn't want to be with anyone at the moment.  Maybe not ever.  He knew that was just old wounds talking, so he tried to shut their voices out and gave a weak smile.  "Good game.  I had you on the ropes, though."

Andrew, ever the true friend, pretended not to notice.

Tischna was grumpy that command duties were going to detain her for their leave, but it went with the job of being in charge, which generally she liked very much.  So sucking up her disappointment she gathered with her friends in the Transporter Room to wave them off.   Seeing Tantomus completely lost and out-of-sorts, just beneath the always-masculine surface, was enough to make her quills shiver in anger, but she kept herself in check.  The idea was, after all, to present a cheery atmosphere and drag the Romulan up out of this funk.  If it didn't work, Tisch supposed she could always beat him back to normal, but in this case even that might not work.  She just wasn't sure how to deal with him when he was this mushy, and maybe that was the biggest problem of all.

"Just remember not to have too much fun without me," she warned, giving them an exaggerated stink-eye.  "I'll get off of this ship eventually, and I expect a full report of awesome things to do!"

"That sounds kind of like a mixed message," Andrew pointed out, but Tischna pointedly ignored him and began to shoo the three of them onto the transporter pad.

"Off of my ship!  And that's an order."

"One I'm only too eager to oblige," Tantomus added, trying his best to elevate his mood to fit those around him.  He didn't want to be the anchor weighing down everyone's good time; that was just… sad.  So he'd be his normal self, damn it, and drown the unwanted feelings in booze later when he was alone.  Yeah.  That was a good plan.

"I can't wait for this week to start!" Ma'Ris said, even more chipper than her usual cheerful self.  Much of the practical command side seemed to have been pushed aside in honor of the leave, like she had metaphorically and physically let her hair down.  Tanto tried to smile at her, and the expression felt even more foreign on his alien features than usual.

Luckily no one said anything, and after some boisterous waving on Salem's part, the transporter made its famous whirring noise and they were all suddenly standing on Gravity Station.  Maybe this week didn't have to be awful after all, Tantomus thought as he absorbed the increase in background noise, the jump in population mass, and the unknown smells all assaulting his heightened senses.  The adventurous side of him, the one that was excited to be someplace it had never been, immediately stretched out in the back of his mind in anticipation.  His lips curved again, this time naturally.

Andrew, catching the look, sent him an almost relieved look in response.  "So, what should we do first you guys?"  Ma'Ris, grabbing both of their arms, pointed out towards the terrace, which looked down at the lower level and main corridor of the station.  It was alive with activity, and populated with an eclectic mix of carts and kiosks from which various merchants did their trading.

"Is that even a question?" she asked before dragging them off towards the stairs.  "Shopping of course!"

Over her head, the guys exchanged looks—Andrew looked uncertain but indulgent, Tanto's face a study in dramatic consternation—but they followed along nonetheless, because it was certainly much easier than trying to argue.  More than a year of the Orion's acquaintance had taught them that much anyway.

Maybe, thought Tantomus grudgingly, it's a racial trait.

The day hit warp speed, so that by the time they transported aboard again, all of them carrying their own purchases, plus helping Ma'Ris carry hers, everyone was unanimously exhausted.

Tantomus was even content, mostly.  He wouldn't have said he was happy by any stretch of the imagination, but then again, he would rarely have qualified himself as 'happy' on a normal basis.  There had been a few times, maybe…  But he didn't like to try to classify things that way.  What was the point?  You got by, and usually what you were feeling at any giving time didn't matter two figs for getting by.

When he was finally able to bow out of the company of his friends he felt completely worn out, but at least the pretense was over.  Whatever facial expression he had been wearing slipped off into one of unwatched and unplanned simplicity, and it felt good.  He even ran his hands over his face a few times, scrubbing it like a real mask had been sitting there all day pinching and poking him under the surface.

Tossing his clothes onto the floor with abandon, Tanto let himself fall back onto his unmade bed, relishing the feeling of just being alone for five minutes.  Throwing an arm over the edge, he fumbled around with a drawer until he finally came away with a small cylindrical container that sloshed appreciatively in his hand.  Hardly waiting to get the lid off, he laid back against the pillows and sighed as he took a large, healthy swig of the Romulan Ale.

"God, that hits the spot," he said to no one in particular, and smiled a little at how nice that was.  A few drinks later he reached for his PADD but, after looking at it a scant minute or two, turned it off again and simply lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling and nothing at all but smooth metal plating.

He wanted to be alone.

Of course he wanted to be alone.

Tantomus operated best alone.

Turning his head, he looked at the window, where the stars sat still for once as the Legacy remained immobile and docked.

Except that, alone, he had nothing else to think about but just how alone he truly was, and the reality that there might not be enough Romulan Ale in the world to make that go away.

It's worth a try, he thought to himself, and began by draining the rest from the cylinder in his hand.

Description
Liz

Liz loved the situation of her bed in her room.  It was large, because she enjoyed her space when she wanted it, and it faced the long panoramic view of space that flashed by outside the ship.  She knew some people were disconcerted by the wide windows, but they made her room feel larger, less encompassing.  When she lay in bed alone or, on some nights, with company, she could look out that window and feel like there was so much more going on in the universe beyond her bedroom.

It was some time after three in the morning when Liz sat up amongst the tousled sheets, being careful not to waken the man sleeping on the other side while she slipped on a robe.  It was thick terry cloth, worn down somewhat, and in a deep forest green that complemented her hair and her eyes.  Her grandda had bought it for her the Christmas before she left for Starfleet Academy.  She didn't wear it for modesty—she didn't have any to speak of, and wasn't embarrassed of herself, naked or otherwise.  Liz simply enjoyed the feel of it, and when she walked to the window to look out pulled it tighter around her.

How many of those stars and moons and planets have I been to? She thought to herself, silent in the darkened room.  It was full of her things, but she could hardly consider it home.  When you did what she did every day, you learned to make your home wherever you happened to be, because you could always be reassigned.  Where was her real home?  Sometimes she thought it was in Ireland with her grandfather, sometimes Starfleet.  Certainly it wasn't the house she had lived in with her mother, and her father when he graced them with his presence, although that was more curse than blessing.  I wonder where they are out there?  Of course she could have figured it out, but the mystery was more special.

Feeling a little chilly, even in the climate-controlled room, Liz shivered.  Looking out at this unencumbered view of the stars always made her cold after awhile.  When she glanced away again she realized she had been standing with her hand to the pane for almost half an hour.  Looking back towards the bed, her red hair spilling in crazy ringlets across her shoulders, the half-Orion considered the man sleeping there.  Although she had many rules about how her casual affairs were to be conducted, kicking people out after sex wasn't one of them.  She knew that sleeping together was a sort of bonding by itself, and that the morning after could be awkward, but she chose the men she slept with very carefully.  There had been no bruised feelings or awkward scenes in a long, long time…  At least not when she stuck to the rules.

Trembling slightly, feet feeling like icicles, Liz finally fled back to the warm cocoon of her bed and the body inside it.  The thoughts coursing through her were too deep, she thought, for a 3 A.M. morning when she wasn't on duty.  With a smile curving her lips she snuggled into her bedfellow, rubbing an icy foot along his leg.  He jumped, woke with some incomprehensible murmur, and blinked at her sleepily.

"Your feet are like ice cubes," he finally muttered, rolling to his right side so he could look at her properly.  Her head was propped up on her left arm; she smiled devilishly, and looked completely awake besides.  She wore a simple bathrobe and nothing else, and the flashes of skin did a lot to wake him up as well.  Liz laughed, a husky bed laugh, and when she ran a hand down his body to find him ready he hardened more at the sound than her touch

"Sorry about that.  I guess I'm just a little cold."  Drawing the blankets around her Liz straddled him, and then leaned back so that he could run his hands along her body, brushing fingers over the nipples which had already grown taut and begun to ache.  "I'm always so cold out here," she added on a quiet sigh, so soft that it was lost in the silence of the room, which was still except for the sliding of sheets and the whisper of skin on skin.  Hers looked so much richer in the dark, and his seemed to glow white as he rose up to kiss her.   When she turned her head to allow him access, she could just see the window on her right, an infinite darkness filled to bursting with stars.  She smiled at it as she lifted her hips, slid onto him, began to ride a steady rhythm as their heartbeats quickened to pounding in their chests.  At the end she laughed again, but the sound was lonely on the quiet ship.

When it was done, and he was once again asleep beside her, Liz lay in the cradle of his arm and stared silently at the ceiling.  The window was still open and inviting, but she couldn't bring herself to watch it now.  It was very late when she finally fell asleep to the steady inhale and exhale of his breathing in the ever-present darkness, and when she had woken up he was nowhere to be found.

She had known about the docking for some time now, but it wasn't until she ran into Sulu that day that she found out the Legacy would be docked there as well.  All the air went out of her lungs, and the sonic screwdriver she'd been using slipped from her fingers, slicing one as it fell.

"Ow!  God dammit, you're sure?"  She could hear the Irish spring unbidden to her voice as she hastily stuck the injured finger in her mouth, tasting blood that wasn't foreign to her.  Sulu, looking somewhat surprised by the reaction and then intensely curious, nodded.  "Grayson confirmed the schedule with the station earlier this morning, while I was on duty.  We'll be landing in a couple of hours tops.  Aren't you excited?  You look a little pale."

Liz was certain she did.  She considered just dropping the task at hand to go hide in her room, but only for a second.  Then the stubborn part kicked in, her Grandda's part, and she took up the screwdriver again.  "Of course I'm excited, we haven't docked at a station in months.  I just don't think I'll have time to go anywhere—after all, the entire system needs a reboot, and who knows when we'll have this kind of time again?

Sulu pouted.  She was the sort of girl who looked forward to her leaves with gusto, and they had made vague partying plans for the next dock.  It was obvious she suspected some of the reasons for this sudden, urgent attention the ship needed, but she didn't have the whole story—nobody did.  It was something Liz kept closely guarded, but lately her ability to separate parts of her life seemed to be weakening, growing chinks in the armor.  It worried the Orion to no end.  Inohara wasn't a bad friend, not really, but Liz wasn't used to female companionship, and she didn't have anyone here she could really consider a best friend.  Had she ever had one?  She must have, once.  She found herself desperately missing the quiet talks in bed after she and Tantomus had been together, how she would watch the strong line of his jaw move when he spoke.

"So, I mean, I'm not sure…" she finished lamely, having totally lost her train of thought with a painful jolt to the chest.   The skeptical look she received from Sulu's lidded eyes was answer enough to her awful concentration.  "You know, I think I'm done with this for the day."  Even her resolve had faltered, and although she tried not to consider it a failure, she wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by other people—people who weren't looking at her like she'd grown an extra head.  "Maybe I'll go to the lounge, get a drink."

"Sounds nice," Sulu sighed with resignation, "but I have to finish reports from our last mission, which totally blows, but I don't want anything getting in the way of my vacation.  Meet up with you later?"

They agreed to meet, but Liz was secretly glad when she was left alone to replace her tools and go back to her room to change.  There were two dresses that were hung in the corner of her closet, although she hadn't touched them since hanging them there.  Liz had never held much with superstition or symbols, but for some reason she couldn't make herself wear them.  Both held a strong memory in her mind.
"This docking is going to be pure hell."

The next morning she was again alone in bed, but no one had spent the night, either.  She knew better than to try to make plans like that when she was in so much emotional turmoil—it was one of the rules she adhered to that had done well by her for so many years.  So despite the fact that she wanted nothing more than a few hours of mindless physical exercise, she went back to her room alone.  That night, when the question Where is he? came unbidden to her mind, she could almost answer it.  The Legacy was scheduled to dock the next morning.  She was scheduled for shore leave the same time.

It was a rough night, with very little sleeping involved.

"Forrester!"

Liz cringed at being discovered.  Shit, she thought vehemently, but outwardly continued to enter commands into the main computer in Engineering.  The owner of the voice, the tan, brawny, good-looking First Officer Kent, held the door jamb with one hand and swung himself inside.  The sound was distinctive, especially when you heard it as often as she did; very warm, and very loud.  His green eyes, which always seemed mischievous unless they were angry, were flashing beneath his unruly mop of curly chestnut hair.  The yellow uniform really didn't suit him at all, Liz thought for no particular reason.  He swaggered closer to lean over her seat, looking at her screen without any real interest.  "What are you still doing here?"

"I'm running diagnostics.  Sir."  Kent, she was almost sure, was younger than her by at least a few years.  It felt odd to be taking commands from him, but he was a decent Commander and a good man.  She was never really sure how he and the Captain got along, though—after all, Kent almost completely embodied what it was to be a Human, while T'Preea was quintessentially Vulcan.  Still, Liz thought with a small smile, she imagined that on their various missions the two had gotten decent looks at what it was like to be in each other's shoes.

"Well, knock it off.  The Venture is fine."  He patted the wall in a fond way, like one might a favored horse.  "We have the best Engineer in Starfleet, after all."

"Thank you, Sir."  Oh crap.

"Call me Kent.  How many times do I have to tell you people?  Anyway, your job is done.  Go, you're scheduled for leave at…. One hour ago."  He checked a screen, then another, and then looked at her again.  "You aren't moving."

She took a breath.  "With all respect, Commander, I would feel much better staying on the ship to run these diagnostics."  Liz shot him a sideways glance.  "You guys run her too damn hard.  It's like being on Kirk's ship all over again."  He smirked, literally smirked at her.

"You think she can't take it?"

"I know damn well she can, I helped build her!" The engineer bristled, like she always did when anyone suggested the Venture might not be in top condition.  "She's freakin' perfect."

"Good.  Then take the day off, Lieutenant Commander.  I want you off this ship—that's an order."

When she watched him stride out of Engineering, she could have killed them both.  "Damn my big mouth," she muttered, having been completely played.  There was a reason Kent was the First Officer.

Liz did everything she could think of to delay leaving the ship, but eventually she received a very strict-sounding, shouty-capitals PADD message from Kent, insinuating that if she didn't get her butt off of his ship he would remove it bodily.  She considered arguing on principle, but realized all of this avoidance was pretty much equal to cowardice, and for at least a few minutes that gave her the momentum to get to the transporter.

"You're the last one from the first group to leave, L.C," commented the technician on duty.  Arty, who would usually have been there at this time of day, was already on the station.  She felt the bottom drop out of her stomach at the thought, and fought the urge to back pedal.

"Yeah, I guess so.  There was a lot to do first," she added on lamely.  Oh God, just get me there and get it over with already!  Luckily he didn't seem all that eager to chat, so she took her place on the pad.  Getting transported felt, to her thinking, like that moment when you walk from a warm building into the outdoors in winter-time.  Then it was over, and she was looking at the technician on the other side.

He's here he's here somewhere I know he is I can't do this I just can't!  Ran itself through her brain all before she took the two steps off the pad.

"Welcome to the Gravity Station, Chief Forrester." Said the woman in greeting as Liz passed by, and she whipped her head around awkwardly to smile in response before she was too far away.  Everything she did felt like swimming in syrup.  Her heart rate was elevated way beyond normal, and if she looked down at her uniform she could see the material rise and fall at the painful jerks of the irrational organ beneath.
How had it all gotten so out of hand?  It had been a year since she'd last seen him.  There were times—small as they were—when she was almost convinced that she had stopped thinking about him every second of every day.

She should go back on the ship, this was obviously a mistake.

Before she could turn and beat a hasty retreat, however, the comm badge at her breast gave a distracting chirrup.  "Forrester," she answered automatically, before she could think to ignore it.

"Liz!  You did make it down here!  I told Grayson you wouldn't stay cooped up on the Venture forever.  Didn't I tell you?"  There were inarticulate noises from Sulu's end, theoretically the Communications officer admitting his defeat.  "A few of us are already gathered in Wernher's having a drink.  Come join us!  Just for a few minutes."

Listening to the routine sound of Ino's voice had done a little to calm Liz, but the thought of moving any further out into the Station was causing palpitations.  She was on the verge of begging off when her backbone stood up.  What do you think you're doing?  It asked with no little amount of self-disgust.  It's a huge station—the chances of running into him are slim to none, if he's even here today at all.  And if he is, so what?  You did what you had to do.  You're both big kids.  Enough of hiding behind the Venture's skirts, all right?  Grow a pair, Liz!

Well, the last part was a bit weird, but she tried to take the message to heart.

"Yeah, okay," she said into the comm badge, and she could hear the cheers from the other side.  "But just a few drinks.  I don't want to forget this break completely, you know?"  At least not yet, she added to herself.

Tanto

Tantomus was pretty sure he was never, ever, ever going to live down his costume from his most recent mission.  Just thinking about it gave him a headache, as long as pretty much a body-wide green flush of embarrassment, followed by the urge to punch something.  Sure, he was more mature than he might have been a year ago, but did you ever get mature enough to shrug off spandex micro-shorts and a whip?

No.  No, he was pretty sure that never happened, never mind how much Andrew tried to reassure him that nobody would even remember the whole debacle in a few weeks.  Those weeks were going to be torturous; Hiren knew it in the bottom of his soul.

The only thing destined to make it better was the week of rest and relaxation that was ahead of them.  Legacy was due for a refit, as Andrew had only told him about a zillion times, giddy as a kid in a candy store.  That meant stopping off at a Station for the changes.  And that, ladies and gentlemen, meant a vacation.  Seven days of real food, real alcohol, and lots of ladies to stare at while he consumed the previously-mentioned.

Would that take some of the sting out of the ridiculous getup from the previous week?  Maybe.  If he was drunk enough… Which he planned to be.

"So, will you be on Station at all during the refit, or are you planning to just look over the technician's shoulders and drool at the shiny new equipment all week?"  Tanto asked Andrew a few days before the docking.  They were in the Rec Room on a shared off-duty moment, and Tantomus had decided to be a good sport and let Andrew crush him at chess.  Pulverize, really.  Really taking one for the team.

The engineer chuckled good-heartedly as he rubbed his completely barren chin, trying to decide his next soul-stomping move.  Tanto thought of his own scratchy face, trying to remember to add 'shave' on his list of things to do.  The only place Andrew ever seemed able to grow hair was on top of his head, where that crazy mop of blonde hair sprouted up like daisies.  The simile… or metaphor… or whatever, was such an odd one, Tantomus frowned and re-focused on the game.  No wonder he was being beaten so badly.

When the hammer came down, it was the Romulan's second Rook that was unceremoniously kicked from the field.  "I don't think I'm allowed to bother the techs," answered Andrew finally, sitting back and smiling modestly at Tanto's pained look.  "Besides, I get to play around later, to work out all of the bugs.  Why not enjoy a bit of time off?  Ma'Ris wants me to check out this restaurant with her.  You should come along," he added, like this was a brilliant idea he had just come up with.

In reality, he and the others had been trying to find ways to occupy Tantomus during their break.  The costumed-craziness of the past week aside, his mood had been slowly spiraling, and it wasn't hard for anyone to notice, let alone figure out why.  With the anniversary looming, Salem was pricklier than ever, while Tanto merely withdrew into whatever never-ending stash of Romulan Ale he always seemed to have. The worst part, a detail that nobody had thought it wise to mention, was that the Venture was going to be docked at the Station during the same time the Legacy was.

"We have to do something," Ma'Ris had said matter-of-factly the day before when they were discussing it.  Andrew always felt bad talking about Tantomus when he wasn't around, but as the Orion had pointed out, they were his friends, and they were trying to help him out.  "He can't be allowed to mope around like this.  And if he's this bad now, what do you think will happen when he gets on a Station?  He'll just drink himself into a sorry mess, that's what."

Even if Andrew agreed, which he unfortunately did, that didn't mean he had to feel great about the contrivance.  Since it couldn't be too obvious, they had just agreed to try to stay with him and keep an eye on him while he was off the ship.  Tanto had some manners, even if they were just ones he made himself work on to appear normal, so that if they made it plausible enough he wouldn't shake them off… At least not the first day.  As Ma'Ris put it, it was a start.

The chess game mostly lost, Tantomus didn't really think about his move, and told himself that he had willingly given up his Bishop for some undisclosed reason.

"I dunno, I hadn't really planned on doing anything in particular…" he began, but then realized this left him open for all kinds of things and winced.  "I mean, I was just gonna, you know…"

Andrew did know, and that was the problem.  But he played it innocent.  "Well we have a whole week.  Ma'Ris hasn't seen you much for like a month, and I just thought the three of us could do something.  Maybe we could even get Tisch in on it, if they can spare her.  What do you think?"

Tantomus was sunk even before he looked at the wide, excited puppy-dog-brown eyes.  The enthusiasm in Andrew's voice had already done him in.  Aw, hell.  What's one day off of the crazy-train, anyway?  "Yeah, okay, what the heck."

"Great!"  exclaimed his friend, with real good humor.  Then his face fell a bit and he looked almost sheepish.  "Also, check mate."

"Fvadt."  It was pretty much the only reaction he could muster.  He felt slightly steamrolled, both by the game and by the prospect of hanging out with his friends on the Station, and that added a small element of concern to the consternation.  Shouldn't he want to hang out with his friends?  But if he was honest with himself, which was probably the hardest thing he ever had to do, he didn't want to be with anyone at the moment.  Maybe not ever.  He knew that was just old wounds talking, so he tried to shut their voices out and gave a weak smile.  "Good game.  I had you on the ropes, though."

Andrew, ever the true friend, pretended not to notice.

Tischna was grumpy that command duties were going to detain her for their leave, but it went with the job of being in charge, which generally she liked very much.  So sucking up her disappointment she gathered with her friends in the Transporter Room to wave them off.   Seeing Tantomus completely lost and out-of-sorts, just beneath the always-masculine surface, was enough to make her quills shiver in anger, but she kept herself in check.  The idea was, after all, to present a cheery atmosphere and drag the Romulan up out of this funk.  If it didn't work, Tisch supposed she could always beat him back to normal, but in this case even that might not work.  She just wasn't sure how to deal with him when he was this mushy, and maybe that was the biggest problem of all.

"Just remember not to have too much fun without me," she warned, giving them an exaggerated stink-eye.  "I'll get off of this ship eventually, and I expect a full report of awesome things to do!"

"That sounds kind of like a mixed message," Andrew pointed out, but Tischna pointedly ignored him and began to shoo the three of them onto the transporter pad.

"Off of my ship!  And that's an order."

"One I'm only too eager to oblige," Tantomus added, trying his best to elevate his mood to fit those around him.  He didn't want to be the anchor weighing down everyone's good time; that was just… sad.  So he'd be his normal self, damn it, and drown the unwanted feelings in booze later when he was alone.  Yeah.  That was a good plan.

"I can't wait for this week to start!" Ma'Ris said, even more chipper than her usual cheerful self.  Much of the practical command side seemed to have been pushed aside in honor of the leave, like she had metaphorically and physically let her hair down.  Tanto tried to smile at her, and the expression felt even more foreign on his alien features than usual.

Luckily no one said anything, and after some boisterous waving on Salem's part, the transporter made its famous whirring noise and they were all suddenly standing on Gravity Station.  Maybe this week didn't have to be awful after all, Tantomus thought as he absorbed the increase in background noise, the jump in population mass, and the unknown smells all assaulting his heightened senses.  The adventurous side of him, the one that was excited to be someplace it had never been, immediately stretched out in the back of his mind in anticipation.  His lips curved again, this time naturally.

Andrew, catching the look, sent him an almost relieved look in response.  "So, what should we do first you guys?"  Ma'Ris, grabbing both of their arms, pointed out towards the terrace, which looked down at the lower level and main corridor of the station.  It was alive with activity, and populated with an eclectic mix of carts and kiosks from which various merchants did their trading.

"Is that even a question?" she asked before dragging them off towards the stairs.  "Shopping of course!"

Over her head, the guys exchanged looks—Andrew looked uncertain but indulgent, Tanto's face a study in dramatic consternation—but they followed along nonetheless, because it was certainly much easier than trying to argue.  More than a year of the Orion's acquaintance had taught them that much anyway.

Maybe, thought Tantomus grudgingly, it's a racial trait.

The day hit warp speed, so that by the time they transported aboard again, all of them carrying their own purchases, plus helping Ma'Ris carry hers, everyone was unanimously exhausted.

Tantomus was even content, mostly.  He wouldn't have said he was happy by any stretch of the imagination, but then again, he would rarely have qualified himself as 'happy' on a normal basis.  There had been a few times, maybe…  But he didn't like to try to classify things that way.  What was the point?  You got by, and usually what you were feeling at any giving time didn't matter two figs for getting by.

When he was finally able to bow out of the company of his friends he felt completely worn out, but at least the pretense was over.  Whatever facial expression he had been wearing slipped off into one of unwatched and unplanned simplicity, and it felt good.  He even ran his hands over his face a few times, scrubbing it like a real mask had been sitting there all day pinching and poking him under the surface.

Tossing his clothes onto the floor with abandon, Tanto let himself fall back onto his unmade bed, relishing the feeling of just being alone for five minutes.  Throwing an arm over the edge, he fumbled around with a drawer until he finally came away with a small cylindrical container that sloshed appreciatively in his hand.  Hardly waiting to get the lid off, he laid back against the pillows and sighed as he took a large, healthy swig of the Romulan Ale.

"God, that hits the spot," he said to no one in particular, and smiled a little at how nice that was.  A few drinks later he reached for his PADD but, after looking at it a scant minute or two, turned it off again and simply lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling and nothing at all but smooth metal plating.

He wanted to be alone.

Of course he wanted to be alone.

Tantomus operated best alone.

Turning his head, he looked at the window, where the stars sat still for once as the Legacy remained immobile and docked.

Except that, alone, he had nothing else to think about but just how alone he truly was, and the reality that there might not be enough Romulan Ale in the world to make that go away.

It's worth a try, he thought to himself, and began by draining the rest from the cylinder in his hand.