The Sato Series, Episode 3: a new Frontier

“Oh, I forgot about that. You know, leave the ship, forget your routine,” she laughed. “I left it in my bag. It’s up at the house. I’ll have to do it later.”
Emily shook her head. “No it’s not. I brought it. I didn’t forget,” she added. “I’ll get it.”
Kit knew the gesture wasn’t lost on Ro Laren. Kit came to her lover, then, offering to help smooth the thick, cool medication over her scarred back. She eased Laren’s shirt off of her, taking the tube from Emily.
Lenara sat in Kieran’s lap, and had to turn her head from the sight of all those crisscrossed remnants of repeated beatings. Kieran cuddled her, knowing that it would haunt Lenara for days. “Be’thal, she isn’t suffering now,” Kieran whispered against Lenara’s gold-brown hair, elegantly braided around her lovely face. “She’s letting them all love her.”
Lenara kissed Kieran to chase away the horror she felt, and Kieran noted that her Trill markings, the dark geometric patterns adorning Lenara’s temples and throat, had paled in sympathetic response to Laren’s past. “Wapur’on,” she said softly, “Robbie told me Emily’s back looked very bad, before she was treated. Was it this bad?” she asked, dreading the answer.
Kieran sighed. “Almost, shar cadre. Almost.”
Lenara hid her face in Kieran’s shoulder, weeping softly for her daughter, for Ro Laren, and for her unborn child, who would have to live in a world that could be so cruel.
Kieran cradled her tenderly. “They’re okay, now, Nara. And the three of them—Kit, and Emily and Laren—they’ll help each other now, because they’ve all been through it,” she promised, caressing the Trill’s shoulders gently. “Le’sharon,” she whispered. “I love you so. I love you for your open heart. You humble me with your generosity of spirit,” she said thickly.
Lenara looked up at her, kissing her warmly. “Our children humble me,” she said, face stained with tears. “They have become the teachers.”
Kieran kissed the dark vallette at Lenara’s temple, lips ghosting over the sensitive markings. “How are you feeling, with this pregnancy, cha’malar’on?” she asked quietly. “You never say anything about it.”
“I feel very well. Tired, sometimes, but otherwise, very glad to have this child. To be able to do this for Naomi. She has always been my blessed gift,” Lenara smiled, for that was the literal translation of Na’omi in Trill, “and now I will give her one in return. This child means everything to me, just as this marriage does,” she professed her love.
“My beautiful Lenara,” Kieran said in her ear, “I am conquered by your devotion to us all. By your love for our family. You are my kadicadrejir, now and for always. Let me take you home, so you can rest. It’s very late, and tomorrow will be another long day.”
Lenara nodded. “I’d like that. Will you hold me all night?” she asked faintly.
“I will, cha’le’veron,” she promised, lifting the slight woman from the floor as they stood together. “Do you want me to carry you?” she asked fondly.
“It’s too far. Don’t be silly,” Lenara scolded.
“I have a transport waiting. I rented it for the holidays, because it’s too far for you to be tramping around in this cold,” she replied. “I can carry you that far,” she teased, “even if you weigh a ton because you’re pregnant.”
“Te’Ramp,” Lenara shot back, “I’ve only gained three pounds,” she defended herself.
Kieran laughed lightly. “Ladies,” she excused them, “Lenara and I are off. She needs her beauty rest, so the baby will be as gorgeous as her mothers,” she teased. “Good night. If anyone wants a ride to the house, now’s the time. Otherwise, you have to walk back.”
Kit smiled. “Wow, pregnancy really gets you the royal treatment,” she whistled appreciatively. “Where do I sign up for that gig?”
Emily was holding her from behind, and hugged her. “Right here, honey. Say the word, and we’ll hit sickbay,” she threatened.
Naomi rose from the floor. “You two go ahead,” she said to Kieran and Lenara. “Robs,” she said quietly, “can we go too? I want to give you your Christmas present alone,” she noted.
Robin nodded. “Let me get your coat, sweetie. I’ll be right back. Girls,” she said to the remaining four, “try not to wake up the whole house when you come back tonight,” she forestalled them. “Sorry—girls and Laren,” she corrected herself. “I guess I shouldn’t call you a girl if you’re my age.”
Laren scowled at her. “You’re six months older, Lefler, so hump a Pah-wraith,” she laughed.
“Oooh, kinky. I’ll keep it in mind,” Robin retorted. “Sleep well, all. Good night.”
Kit looked at her wives and her lover. “I thought they’d never leave,” she teased. “Share your fire, honey, I’m getting chilled,” she complained, squeezing in beside Ro Laren.
“So what’s the agenda, Kittner? Aren’t we supposed to make a trip to the Academy, and to Jenny’s this week?” Laren asked.
Kit nodded. “We’re going to Jenny’s Thursday night, then to Florida Saturday. We’ve got three days at Grandpa’s, and then everyone is going to the Academy to see Admiral Brand and Kate Pulaski.”
“Sato is in the shipyards for at least three weeks,” Laren put in. “What do we do after that?”
Kit grinned. “Santa Claus has plans for us. You’ll see when you open your presents.”
Kathryn and Seven came sneaking into the house in their pajamas and robes, overcoats bundled around them.
“Hey, you two,” Kit smirked at them. “Run out of energy? There’s caramel brownies in the cookie jar—oh, wait, no, I ate them all. Sorry.”
Seven laughed at the look of outrage on Kathryn’s face. “All of them, Lieutenant?” she barked.
“Hey, I don’t see any pips, your Ambassadorship,” Kit smarted. “Yes, all of them,” she stuck her tongue out.
Emily snorted. “She’s lying, Kathryn. There’s like two dozen left,” she ratted her wife out. “She’s just telling you that so she gets more.”
“Thanks, Ems. Kit, your wife’s loyalty clearly rests with your superior officers,” she said smugly. “So there. Honey,” she turned to Seven, “what can I get you?”
Seven kissed her sweetly. “I think pumpkin bread and a glass of milk,” she replied, then leaned lower to whisper “I need to replenish vital fluids.”
Kathryn let out a soft peal of laughter. She took Seven in her arms, kissing her intently, then whispering to her “Was it good?”
Seven waggled her eyebrows. “Let’s just say there won’t be any coal in your stocking, come morning,” she teased.
Kathryn laughed deep in her chest, delighted at her wife’s playful mood. “Are you going to let me stuff yours?” she asked suggestively.
“Didn’t you already?” Seven giggled. “Food, Kathryn. Or else we’ll have to actually sleep, tonight to replenish our stamina,” she teased.
“Do you girls want anything while I’m rummaging through the refrigerator?” she asked.
“I’m good,” Kit replied.
Emily and Jenny agreed, and Laren said “Nothing for me, Captain, thanks.”
“Laren, stop calling me that. Do you see pips?” she asked. “No. It’s Kathryn.” Kathryn kissed Seven and marched herself to the kitchen for reinforcements.
“I guess she told you,” Jenny teased Laren, leaning against her affectionately.
“I stand rebuked and chastened,” Laren smarted, bowing her head repentantly and making Jenny laugh.
Emily giggled at her. “Rebuked and chastened. I like that. Nice way to say you got your ass chewed,” she quipped.
“It sounds less—graphic,” Laren decided. “Does it ever feel weird to you guys, knowing you’re in the Captain’s home? I mean, I know she’s your grandmother, but she grew up in this house. It seems so strange to me to have a personal relationship with her.”
Jenny smiled, glancing at Seven who was listening to them. “It might have back when we were just interns, maybe. But Kathryn has changed so much over the years, she’s so relaxed. Seven just brings out her fun side, her personable side.”
Seven curtsied. “Thank you. I’m going to make a human being of her yet, you watch.”
“Spoken like a true drone, Seven,” Kit ribbed her. “It was never weird for me,” she put in. “I met her as Kieran’s friend, really, and Seven’s lover. I knew Kieran and Naomi and Seven first, and until I met her face to face, it really didn’t even register with me that when they talked about Kathryn, they meant Captain Janeway. And she was never in uniform back then, so I was at ease with her. For me what was weird was getting used to thinking of her as my CO, and not my friend. Once I was on Alpha shift, though, I learned pretty quick. Lord, you do not want to piss her off.”
“Did you ever see her get pissed?” Laren asked. “I mean besides at you and me after we disobeyed orders,” she clarified.
“Yes. Ben Mason, who was at tactical before you. He just—how do I put it?” Kit thought about it.
“He doesn’t anticipate how a superior officer thinks,” Jenny offered. “To be good, you have to be a step ahead, to anticipate what they are going to want. That way if they miss something, you can suggest it, and if they don’t, you were ready. Ben just doesn’t think far enough ahead.”
“Exactly,” Kit agreed. “And Captain Janeway reamed him one day for not thinking of some fairly basic measures he should have thought of. She got annoyed and said ‘this is not a simulation Mr. Mason. Get your head in the game or get the hell off my bridge.’ Well, poor Ben left a puddle on the deck, you can bet your ass,” Kit snickered. “Kieran tried to work with him, but he just wasn’t ready for Alpha shift yet,” Kit opined.
Kathryn had overheard the tail end, and she and Seven sat down in the floor. “He didn’t leave a puddle, or I’d have wiped it up with his sorry ass,” she said, smirking. “He’s improved a great deal by rotating to Beta shift, and I’m sure now that Kieran is taking over, she’ll put him back at tactical.” Kathryn handed Seven a large slice of pumpkin bread and a glass of cold milk. “Here you go, sweetie. Want some of my sandwich?”
“No, thank you. How can you eat that much before bed?” she asked, gaping at the gigantic turkey and Swiss cheese club.
“Honey, you burned off dinner. I have to keep up my strength. I’m physiologically almost thirty years older than you.”
Laren’s eyes widened. “Is that true, Seven?”
“Marginally,” she replied. “My nanoprobes retard my aging processes. I am about twenty eight in biological terms. Naomi passed me up recently. I will outlive Kathryn by many decades.”
Emily gave her a mischievous grin. “And we’ll be there to pick up the pieces of your broken heart, won’t we Jen?” she teased.
Kathryn shot her a look. “Don’t get ideas, missy. I’m not dead yet. And I am a very jealous woman.” She took a bite of her sandwich. “Besides,” she said with her mouth full, “by the time I’m dead you’ll be much older than she is too. She’ll want someone younger than you two. Maybe Chance,” she joked.
Seven pretended to fan herself with excitement. “She does look a lot like Cameron,” she teased.
“Ah, so Cam does it for you?” Kit teased. “Aunt Cass will be devastated. She can’t keep her eyes off you in bat’leth class,” she pointed out.
Seven laughed. “Oh, those Thompson women,” she teased her spouse. “They send me, all right. And Cameron, too,” she giggled.
Kathryn gave her a scathing look. “For the love of Mike, Seven, you were lovers with Kieran less than two months, and you’d think she’d invented sex, to hear you tell it,” she chuckled.
“Quality, quantity,” Seven shot back, laughing. “And it wasn’t Mike in my bed, I assure you.”
“Darling,” Kathryn clutched at her chest, “you’re killing me. My ego shrivels.”
“No it doesn’t, Kathryn,” Seven replied coolly. “Your ego is perfectly inflated and exaggerated as is commensurate with a woman of your skill and finesse,” she complimented her wife.
Kathryn puffed up. “Hear that, Ems? Skill and finesse. You and Jenny keep working at it, you might get there some day. Certainly not in my lifetime.”
Jenny smirked. “Yeah, that’s not that long to wait, though.”
Laren fell out laughing. “I cannot believe the way you talk to each other,” she howled. “Prophets in a parking lot, you crack my ass up.” She laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. “I have got to marry into this family, somehow,” she declared. “I need the comic relief.”
Kathryn smacked her thigh, laughing at Laren laughing. “See there girls? It wasn’t any of you that won Laren over, it was my humor. Let that be a lesson to you. The way to a woman’s heart is through her funny bone.”
“That’s not the path you took with me,” Seven deadpanned. “It was much more interesting.”
Laren waggled her eyebrows at Kathryn. “It takes more than humor, I guarantee you. I am not easy,” she protested lightly. “But I do like redheads,” she flirted. “And I know you’re a good kisser.”
It was Kathryn’s turn to howl with laughter. “One kiss in the shuttle bay is hardly a worthy display of my considerable talents,” she bragged. “But I’ll admit there must be something about you, Laren, because you’re the only woman I’ve ever kissed that I wasn’t married to.”
Laren grinned, taking Kathryn’s hand. “Give it time. You never know.”
Seven extended her arm. “You will be assimilated if you don’t remove your hand from my wife’s,” she teased, deploying her tubules.
Kathryn gave Seven an indignant look. “Well, now there’s a fine double standard. After the jungle planet incident, I think I’m entitled to at least one affair. Maybe two,” she pouted.
Seven sighed. “You’re right. I concede. Laren, you can stay in the guest house with Kathryn tonight. Kit, that means it’s you and me. Can you keep a secret from Kieran? I wouldn’t want her to be jealous.”
Kit leaned over and kissed Seven’s cheek. “I’m sorry your Borgness, but I like older women. You’re just way, way too young. But Kathryn,” she turned to Janeway, grinning, “if she’s willing to let you take two lovers, sign me up. Ro and I can be a package deal.”
Seven looked skyward. “Oh, cursed existence, they all want my wife!” she groaned.
Emily reached for Seven’s hand. “Not all of them,” she assured the Borg.
“Yeah,” Jenny agreed. “You can assimilate me any day, your Borgness,” she teased.
“Well, thank Kahless someone thinks I’m worth the time of day,” Seven complained. “This works out well Kathryn. Two for me, two for you.”
Kit was in stitches on the floor, laughing so hard she couldn’t talk.
“What, Kyle?” Jenny asked her. “What’s so damned funny?”
Kit wiped her eyes, trying to talk. “Unimatrix---sixty-nine!” she gasped, choking with laughter.
The women roared with laughter, and Gretchen Janeway stumbled into the hall, her slumber shattered by the din. “Don’t make me come in there,” she hollered at them all.
They only laughed harder.
_______________
Naomi and Robin Wildman said their goodbyes to their wives, explaining that they were going to take a walk in the snow. As soon as Kieran and Lenara had boarded the rental transport, Naomi turned to Robin, smiling sweetly. “I have a surprise for you. A very private Christmas gift. But I have to give it to you on Sato,” she advised, tapping her comm badge.
She directed the transporter room chief of the orbiting craft to beam them aboard. Most of the crew was off for the holidays, but there were many alien crew members who had no family on Earth, and in exchange for compensatory time off, they served as a skeleton crew while Sato was in station keeping mode.
Robin regarded her with an amused expression. “You left my present on the ship?” she asked, reaching for Naomi’s hands as they dematerialized and rematerialized aboard Sato.
Naomi nodded mutely, leading Robin to their quarters. “We’re going to the holodeck,” she explained. “A very special program just for you,” she added, smiling mysteriously. “But we have to get changed into the proper attire,” she instructed, keying their doorway’s security code. “Your clothes are in your bedroom,” she said, pushing Robin in the direction of the hallway. “I’ll meet you in holodeck two in fifteen minutes. Don’t keep me waiting,” she warned, grinning. She kissed Robin soundly, then slipped inside her own bedroom.
Robin found clothing laid out for her on her bed, and laughed at how Naomi must have plotted for this evening. Her tightest pair of blue jeans were there, along with a white denim shirt that showed off her dark complexion. There was a note with the clothing, and Robin read it and burst out laughing. “God, I love her,” she muttered. She followed Naomi’s instructions, dressing for the occasion, and headed for the holodeck.
Robin smiled to herself, grateful that Naomi had the foresight to schedule this foray for an evening when the ship was mostly deserted. She wouldn’t want her subordinate officers or crew seeing her in the state she was in. Robin realized for the hundredth time that she was probably the most fortunate woman alive to have a lover and a companion as adventurous as Naomi. She stopped outside the holodeck, mustering her courage.
The doors whirred open, and inside, Robin found a dimly lit drinking establishment with booths and broad tables, holographic women mulling about, dancers on the dance floor, and loud, pulsing music that made the mirrored walls vibrate. There was a table of women laughing loudly, clanking beer bottles together and singing lustily with the dance tune blaring on the sound system. Then Robin’s eyes settled on a lone figure over in a corner. There, waiting patiently, was Naomi Wildman. Robin felt a stirring in her stomach just looking at the Ktarian, and the simple knowledge that her favorite fantasy was about to be played out gave her a throbbing erection. She let out a faint gasp as it occurred to her that the SED she was wearing had the ability to go flaccid and become engorged, as though it were her natural endowment. The fullness in her jeans was not lost on Naomi, who stood to greet her after making a visual survey of her lover and smiling with approval.
“I love those jeans on you,” she purred, pulling Robin in for a kiss of greeting.
Robin kissed her enthusiastically, breath catching as Naomi pressed against Robin’s distended and very obvious crotch, rubbing against the artificial phallus. The sensation registered with searing heat in Robin’s solar plexus.
“Why? They’re just jeans,” Robin asked breathily, swallowing hard but grabbing Naomi’s hips so the two women were thrust seamlessly together.
“Because,” Naomi murmured in Robin’s ear, “they are skin tight, and I can see and feel how much you want to fuck me,” she said softly, biting Robin’s ear lobe. “You know that’s what you’re here for, don’t you Robbie?”
Robin arched into the edge of Naomi’s teeth, voice quavering. “Jesus, Naomi,” she said with a shudder, hands firm on Naomi’s hips. “You look amazing,” she complimented her wife.
Naomi had on a skirt that was loose and full, a soft turquoise with a plaid pattern of pink, light lavender and subtle green woven through the summery fabric. Over the skirt she wore a very tight white knit shirt that left her belly exposed and had a deep v-cut in the front so that her cleavage was very noticeable. Beneath the skirt, as well as beneath the shirt, Robin knew Naomi had absolutely nothing on.
Naomi met Robin’s eyes, her expression alluring. “Thanks. I intend to make this whole experience amazing, too,” she promised, pulling Robin in for a lingering kiss. They stood together, only marginally aware of the holographic patrons around them, the holographic bouncer watching them as their kisses became more ardent. Naomi loved the fullness of Robin’s lips, which were much darker than her own pale pink ones, and perfect for Robin’s slightly larger mouth. Naomi had been the beneficiary of the generosity of that mouth on many, many occasions, and just the thought Robin’s technique left the Ktarian aching and wet.
Naomi teased the tip of Robin’s tongue with her own as they kissed, hands cradling Robin’s head as their lips explored. Naomi rubbed against Robin’s zipper, teasing, and Robin groaned abruptly into her mouth.
“Tell me what it feels like, Robbie,” she demanded hotly in Robin’s ear, grinding against the front of Robin’s jeans which were becoming even fuller.
Robin drew a ragged breath, squeezing Naomi forcefully. “Oh, honey,” she managed, “it feels so unreal,” she admitted. “Like this is really part of my anatomy, like I am straining against the cloth, like I could rip my pants open with how much I want you,” she described, feeling her pulse throbbing in the swollen SED.
Naomi smiled, a wicked, playful expression on her face. She slid her hand down Robin’s body and between them, one finger languidly stroking the head of the phallus, which made Robin bite her lip. She let her finger lightly brush over it repeatedly, until Robin’s eyes rolled back in her head momentarily. Robin kissed her with frantic abandon then, tongue thrust deeply in Naomi’s mouth, fingers gripping the long strands of Naomi’s hair and their lips impassioned by instantaneous need.
Robin held Naomi closer, tearing her mouth from the Ktarian’s, breathless and on fire with the urgency pounding between her legs. “Naomi,” she said against the strawberry blonde’s hair, “I want you so much,” she whispered.
Naomi grinned up at her, taking both her hands. “Dancing first. Plenty of teasing,” she insisted.
Robin was almost certain Naomi’s seduction was more calculated than a Cardassian’s torture, and they moved together on the dance floor, Naomi’s hips pressed against Robin’s so that she could feel the erection inside Robin’s jeans. Naomi let her fingers stray over Robin’s back and hips, an occasional finger grazing the edge of the SED where it bulged. Robin shuddered every time Naomi touched it. Naomi smiled wickedly at her wife, kissing her enthusiastically as they ground their pelvises together to the music.
“I could drop on my knees and suck you off,” Naomi said in Robin’s ear, chuckling at the way Robin’s arms closed around her instinctively with the rush of desire the words inspired. Naomi reached for the closure of Robin’s jeans, teasing, as if she were going to do precisely that.
Robin’s expression hinted at near desperation. “Naomi, if I were a guy, the front of my pants would be soaking wet right now,” she admitted sheepishly. “God, I need to be inside you,” she growled, kissing her wife aggressively.
Naomi nodded, smiling and taking mercy. “Come with me,” she commanded, tugging Robin off the dance floor and back to their table.
“Sit down, baby,” Naomi directed her lover, easing her backward onto the bench of the booth, simultaneously sitting in Robin’s lap. She gazed into Robin’s neon blue eyes, searching for hesitation, for reluctance, and found only abject lust. She kissed the older woman deeply, the fire reigniting between them. She felt the bulge in Robin’s pants surge, and reached for the zipper of her jeans. Robin lifted her hips, pressing up against Naomi’s hand, watching as Naomi eased the zipper down and reached inside her pants. Robin hid her face in Naomi’s neck as slender fingers gripped her member, coaxing it free of the restraining denim material. The sight of Naomi fondling her was too much to watch at first, but Robin’s curiosity got the best of her, and she gazed down at Naomi’s hand, wrapped solidly around the shaft, stroking it suggestively. Robin’s eyes closed involuntarily, hips rocking into Naomi’s caress, the length of the SED gliding through Naomi’s palm.
“Don’t you want to watch, Robbie?” she teased, knowing full well Robin’s gaze had only broken from the intensity of the feeling of Naomi’s fingers rubbing softly over the tip of the phallus, teasing and taunting.
Robin gasped. “If I do I’m going to come,” she confessed, a wild grin on her face, her eyes fixed on Naomi’s.
“That’s okay,” Naomi assured her. “I intended on making you come several times, in various positions and from various types of touches,” she advised, kissing Robin fiercely, her hand suddenly moving more certainly and insistently. Robin groaned into her mouth, clutching Naomi’s body, nearly crushing the Ktarian from the sheer intensity of the sight.
“Fucking hell, Naomi,” she gasped. “God that looks hot,” she breathed. “I’m so ready,” she said apologetically.
Naomi smiled knowingly, and slid off Robin’s lap. Robin watched her closely, heart thundering, nearly losing control as Naomi hiked her skirt and straddled Robin’s thighs, taking the phallus inside herself. Robin cried out as she watched the head disappear in the fleshy, dripping fullness of Naomi’s lips, the tautness of Naomi’s walls shocking in it’s erotic power. Naomi whispered in Robin’s ear, a feral grin on her lips, “Fuck me, Robbie. I want you.”
That was all it took, and Robin came abruptly and forcefully, head falling back to her own shoulders as Naomi took the full length of her penetration. “Naomi,” she moaned, “oh, God, Na,” she gasped, holding Naomi’s hips in her hands.
Naomi kissed her with bruising intensity, then bit Robin’s throat. “Everyone’s looking, baby,” she said with a naughty giggle. “They know you’re buried inside me,” she said seductively, squeezing her walls tightly around the SED. The tightening made Robin surge again, instantly throbbing and erect. Naomi’s knees were on either side of Robin’s thighs, her hands on Robin’s shoulders, and by squatting down and then lifting up again, she could ride the entire length in slow, tantalizing strokes.
Robin grimaced, struggling for control, but the sensation was just so overwhelming, especially with the visual provocation of Naomi’s up and down motion, and the intermittent flexing of her walls around Robin. Several of the holographic patrons were staring open mouthed at the lovers, and the bouncer’s gaze was riveted to the spectacle. Naomi lifted the front of her free flowing skirt hem, so that Robin had a very clear view of the SED penetrating her, disappearing in her depths, and then reemerging. Naomi’s body was so lovely, thighs muscular and quivering, and Robin couldn’t avert her attention, not for a second.
The slick fluid trickled onto Robin’s abdomen, glistening in the reflection from the dance floor lights. Naomi saw Robin’s awed expression, and leaned forward to speak in her ear again. “Do you see, Robbie? How wet you make me? How bad I want you? Jesus, Robbie, fuck me, make me come,” she breathed against Robin’s cheek, the words eliciting a sharp groan from the older woman. Naomi reached between her own legs and coated her finger in the wetness, then sucked it off her finger while Robin watched so intently her eyes watered.
Robin was panting with her arousal, utterly conquered, hips instinctively pressing up as Naomi pressed down, hands guiding Naomi’s hips. She tried to make the motion increase in tempo, but Naomi sat down hard on her, shoving her shoulders back against the booth. “Give me the control,” she demanded, lifting her sweater above her naked breasts and filling Robin’s face with them. “These should keep you busy,” she chuckled wickedly, gathering them into her hands and surrounding Robin’s face with warm flesh.
Robin didn’t need to be asked twice, and her hands held Naomi’s breasts against her lips so she could suckle the nipples each in turn, and then at the same time, something that never failed to make Naomi’s passion spill over. Sure enough, Naomi gasped and increased her rhythm, her own need more urgent and growing stronger with every thrust.
Determined to take some form of control, Robin slipped her hand between them, her index finger stroking Naomi’s clitoris which was drenched in the juices bathing their bellies. Naomi moaned, undulating her hips in a circular motion with Robin buried to the hilt in her. Robin felt Naomi’s walls clamping down on the base of the phallus, as if the Ktarian were trying to wring an orgasm from her wife. Robin’s feeble attempts to gain the upper hand were forgotten as she surged upward, desperate now to come again. Naomi matched her urgency, riding forcefully now, the sound of Naomi’s inner thighs smacking against Robin’s outer thighs sounding wet and frenzied. Naomi was babbling nonsense as Robin suckled her nipples, begging to be fucked, to be filled, all the risky words blurted out in the heat of the moment, and Robin groaned at the expletive flurry, her throat dry and aching. The piercing pleasure peaked inside Robin’s belly and she grunted as she came again, just as Naomi reached her own pinnacle, walls erupting in spasmodic waves. Their rhythm was just as frenzied as the sensation shattered inside them, and Naomi collapsed against her lover, covering her breasts again, as if she were suddenly shy.
Robin laid her down on the bench of the booth, entering her again, determined to fulfill every aspect of the fantasy. Naomi’s skirt was hiked around her hips, and her legs were wrapped around Robin’s back as the head counselor continued the passionate thrusting, never stopping to process the previous orgasm before pushing for another. Naomi lay beneath her wife, gasping at the depth of the penetration, the punishing force of Robin’s hips thundering between her legs, and she glanced at the mirrored ceiling. She could see Robin’s bare ass, her jeans tangled around her ankles, the flexion of Robin’s thighs as she moved, and the vision made Naomi clutch frantically at the tight muscles of Robin’s buttocks, pressing her deeper, pulling her harder on the entry strokes.
Robin balanced above the Ktarian on her forearms, sweat gathering on her forehead from the sheer exertion. She met Naomi’s gaze, then kissed her fiercely, mouths hungry and needful, the scene around them blurring in their consciousness, their awareness narrowed down to each other, to the motion, to the slick, furious pounding. Robin shuddered once, feeling the rising heat again, her clit aching as the phallus twitched uncontrollably in Naomi’s walls. “Oh, baby,” she groaned in a strangled voice, “is it good Naomi? Oh, God, it’s so fucking good for me,” she gasped, the need growing in the core of her body again.
Naomi’s brow was drawn tight in concentration, her attention entirely on the feeling in her walls and her clit, her eyes closed. But she managed a reply as the weight of Robin’s body impacting her own made her breath come in sharp exhalations. “Robbie, oh, yes, Robbie, it’s so good, so good,” she murmured, the words almost lost in the sound of their joining. “Come into me, honey,” she pleaded, “Robbie, now, come inside me,” she demanded, hips squeezing Robin’s back, pressing her closer.
Robin lost all rhythm, her thrusts disjointed and fragmented as she climaxed again, crying out as she did, and Naomi coming beneath her, the rush of wet warmth thick between their bodies. They lay still, gathering their strength and catching their breath, Robin still deep inside her wife and not intending to be anywhere else. She felt Naomi’s walls rippling inside, the faintly subsiding evidence of her orgasm giving the older woman deep seated chills, her body bathed in cold sweat. Endless encompassing kisses sealed the act, their vulnerability laid bare to one another.
Naomi’s hair was damp with perspiration, the red-gold darkened to reddish-brown. Robin touched it sweetly, stroking it, smoothing it down. Naomi gazed up at her, eyes filled with love and warmth. “We haven’t fulfilled the entire fantasy, yet, you know,” she managed, still breathing raggedly. “You wanted to bend me over the table and take me from behind,” she reminded her lover.
Robin shivered, the thought making her interest stir once more, however faintly. “I’m good, Na,” she assured her wife. “Really. Aren’t you exhausted?”
Naomi eased Robin off of her, helping the older woman sit back up. “You’re actually admitting defeat?” she teased, kissing Robin gently. “I think you’ve got one more round in you,” she added playfully, dropping her face to Robin’s lap and taking the SED into her mouth. “Don’t you?” she asked innocently, sucking softly at the flaccid device. She was rewarded with yet another resurrection, smiling around it, knowing it was the sight that made Robin aroused more than the sensation.
Robin drew a breath that took more effort than making love had, she was so overcome by the sight of Naomi’s mouth engulfing her. The fluttering of Naomi’s tongue made her groan abruptly, as she could see it flitting over the simulated tissue, bright pink moving so quickly and delicately, like a hummingbird’s wings. She felt it in her groin with an intensity that was nearly as strong as an orgasm itself.
“Are you sure you can’t take any more, Robbie?” Naomi asked coyly. “I’ve been dying to be taken bent over the table,” she said saucily, a near pout in her tone.
Robin growled deep in her throat and moved Naomi’s face out of her crotch, kissing her heatedly, then turning her so that she was facing the same direction Robin faced. Robin gathered the flowing fabric of Naomi’s skirt in her hands, raising it over the Ktarian’s perfect ass, and leaning Naomi over the table at their booth. Naomi spread her legs, anticipating Robin’s entry, hands grasping the far edge of the table top.
Robin’s eyes were fixed on the sight of Naomi’s waiting opening, the shiny wetness, the creaminess of Naomi’s thighs. The SED was fully erect, and Robin raised up to find entry, taking Naomi suddenly and deeply. Naomi groaned, leaning back as Robin pushed inside her, the two women grinding against one another. Robin’s eyes burned from the sight, yet she wouldn’t miss a second by blinking, the softness of Naomi’s behind, the feeling of pressing into those steamy walls, hands gripping Naomi’s hips as she slowly, methodically fucked her wife.
Naomi’s head was turned to the side, and Robin could see the Ktarian had her eyes closed, and a furrow formed in her brow as the tension inside her began to build again. Robin couldn’t process the mental impact of watching herself sliding inside Naomi’s wetness, watching the phallus disappear and reemerge, wet and dripping, and the way Naomi rocked back against the penetration, as if Robin couldn’t possibly get deep enough. How many times had Robin dreamed of doing this? How many times had she fantasized about it?
She leaned over, covering Naomi’s backside, hips tight against Naomi’s ass. Over the din of the music, Robin said in a voice that was so deep and commanding it startled them both, “Touch yourself while I fuck you. Please, Naomi, I want to know you’re touching your own clit while I’m fucking you,” she pleaded, her tone edged with desperation.
Naomi smiled softly, lifting her torso off the table, leaning on it with her elbows as Robin held her ass in place. She obediently reached between her legs, finding her own clit, rubbing it firmly as Robin thrust against her ass.
Robin could tell, even in the dim lighting, that Naomi’s skin was turning red, which meant she was near the edge of climax. Just as Naomi’s moans intensified, Robin reached between their bodies and slipped one finger into the puckered flesh of Naomi’s ass, pressing the thin membrane between the two openings as she moved inside her wife. Naomi cried out at the increase in pressure, nonsensical, primal sounds emanating from the back of her throat, and hearing it drove Robin into a final frenzy, her thrusts short and quick. Naomi’s walls clamped down on the SED, and Robin finished her with what little strength she had left in her legs, her own orgasm bursting like an ember in her abdomen. She collapsed over Naomi’s back, both women using the table to support their weight in the exhaustion they felt.
“Damn, baby,” Robin panted against Naomi’s shoulder, “that was incredible,” she sighed, withdrawing and falling back against the booth. Naomi rearranged her skirt and turned back toward the older woman, who was limp as a noodle, hair soaked with sweat, thighs coated in the slick fluids of their many orgasms.
“You’re a mess,” she laughed, sitting down beside her lover, kissing her. “I saw we transport back to our quarters and shower before we beam back to the farm,” she decided.
Robin was too spent to argue. “Whatever you want, honey. Just don’t let me pass out on my face,” she teased.
______________
Ro Laren and the Wildman girls shuffled through drifted snow, despite the fact that they would only have to get out of bed in three hours again. They headed for Naomi’s farmhouse arm in arm, singing the jumja song, which Laren taught Emily and Jenny on the way. They sang gustily, until they were in view of the house.
“Okay, we’d better quiet down. Robbie will kill us if we wake them up,” Jenny warned them all. “Shhh.”
“We must be really tired,” Laren laughed, “because everything is funny now.”
“We’ll pay for it tomorrow when we have to stay awake for Christmas,” Kit giggled. “But it was worth it. Man, Seven and Kathryn were something else tonight. Kathryn is really loosening up now that she’s retired the captain’s pips.”
Emily’s face glowed thinking of the older women. “I love them both, and it’s good to finally see them enjoying life to the fullest. Poor Kathryn suffered so much when Seven was missing, she’s just a completely different person, now. It’s great.”
Jenny hushed them again as she opened the front door. “The house is quiet,” she advised. “Don’t laugh.”
The four women crept into the downstairs and were just about to start up to the second level when a very distinct, clear voice cried out in Trill. Jenny judiciously herded the women into one of the downstairs bedrooms, closing the door before they could all burst into guffaws. They collapsed on the bed, howling into their hands, trying to suppress the sound.
Laren looked at her companions wide-eyed. “Prophets, somebody was having a good time,” she breathed. “That was some speech Lenara was giving,” she giggled.
“You speak Trill?” Emily asked, eyes wide.
“Enough,” Laren agreed, shaking her head. “Prophets in the Jalanda ruins. One of your mothers is good,” she assured them.
The three women looked at each other and in unison said “Kieran.”
Laren laughed into a pillow, trying to muffle the sound. “How do you know for sure?” she demanded. “It could be any one of them.”
Kit grinned. “We all lived together in San Francisco, Laren. We learned who makes who sound like what pretty fast. We’d see one couple go off together alone, and pretty soon, we’d hear the floorshow,” she explained. “They each sound different depending on who they’re with.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. A) they do, and B) you know which is which?” Laren was skeptical.
Jenny nodded. “Yeah. That’s how Lenara sounds with Kieran. She’s very vocal, almost shrill, and she talks in Trill. She never speaks Trill when Robbie makes love to her, and she’s a lot more subdued altogether with Naomi,” she recited. “But the odd thing is, she sleeps with Naomi more often than either of the other two, wouldn’t you say, Ems?”
“Absolutely. Lenara and Kieran are a lot less likely to be together on any given night, but when they are, it’s hours and hours, usually. I think I know why, too.”
Kit nodded eagerly. “Spill it,” she demanded.
“It took me a long time to figure it out, but I think I understand it now. Kieran and Mom are the most closely Trill identified, because Kieran is fluent in Trill, and she’s known Mom for years and years, and had a prior marriage to a Trill with the other Lenara Kahn. You guys know it takes hours to do the ritual mating of the Be’Prem. Most couples only speak it once, but Kieran is a total romantic. I bet they make love in the ritual form, most of the time. Think about it. When they go to bed together, it’s usually really early in the evening, sometimes not even evening, but afternoon. And then we’ll hear them right before sunrise. That’s how the ritual works—foreplay all night, and you don’t bring your fanual’thal to a climax until morning.”
Jenny shivered. “That sounds almost like torture,” she noted.
“Which would explain why Lenara sounded like that,” Laren realized. “And why she said what she did.”
“What did she say?” Jenny asked, whispering as if the Senior Wildwomen might be eavesdropping.
“She called Kieran Cha’malar’on, which means keeper—well, literally anyway, but what it really means is that Kieran is the perfect lover, the perfect match for her. And she said she could see the gateway to cha’mir, which is like Trill heaven. And then she told her she is conquered, and begged Kieran to take her through the gate.”
Kit nodded. “Which explains why they’re still up, too. Cha’mir takes a long time to reach. It has to be Mom.”
“That makes sense, because cha’mir is so hard to achieve, it not only takes hours, but a lot of Trill think it’s a myth entirely. Only Lenara assures me that it’s not, though she wouldn’t give me details.” Emily smiled at Laren, impressed. “How do you know Trill?”
“I took a class at the Academy. You know, before my first court-martial, I was actually a fairly dedicated Starfleet officer,” she teased. “I actually was a good student, too.”
Kit nodded. “Laren was salutatorian of her class. She graduated higher than any of us, and higher than Naomi or Robin. Kieran’s the only one who bested her in class rank,” she bragged on her mother and her lover.
“Your first court-martial?” Jenny asked. “Was there more than one?”
Laren smirked. “Not so far, but I never rule it out,” she laughed. She gazed longingly at the bed. “I’m tired and I’m freezing. If nobody objects, I’m climbing into bed.”
“Me, too,” Jenny yawned, reaching for the edge of the covers. She realized she’d just invited herself to share Laren’s bed. “Uh—I mean—I’ll go next door.”
Laren arrested her motion with a gentle hand on her back. “I am very cold. I don’t mind the group for body heat, if you don’t,” she offered.
Jenny smiled winningly. “Me either,” she agreed, stripping off her coat and her jeans. She slept in her underpants and a t-shirt, and slid beneath the covers.
Laren joined her while Kit and Emily undressed, too. They piled into the bed together, each holding the other, and soon enough were warm. Laren was asleep before she even had time to think about being in bed with three women.
________________
Christmas morning dawned cold and still snowing, and the ground outside was two feet deep in powder, with drifts that topped out at four feet. The mildness of the wind was the only thing that kept the snow from drifting up against doorways and shutting them all in. Geejay Janeway dashed into her parent’s bedroom, launching herself into their bed.
“MOMS! GET UP!” she insisted, shaking them both. “Santa Claus came,” she bounced impatiently on their mattress.
Kathryn laughed quietly. “Geejay, you little targ, you told me last week you don’t believe in Santa Claus. Now which is it? Do you, or don’t you?”
Geejay pondered the dilemma. “Well, I didn’t but then this morning I was convinced again.”
“Oh?” Kathryn asked, amused at her daughter’s gullibility. “By what?”
“Sleigh bells, Mom. I heard them. On Santa’s sled. Real ones. I heard them jingling, I really did. Katie heard it too, because I woke her up and we both heard it,” she explained excitedly.
“Well, then, there’s the scientific proof,” Seven put in, grinning at Kathryn. “Geejay, go get dressed and we’ll all get ready to go to Grandma’s. And wash your face, young lady.”
Geejay gave her a look of total dismay. “Borg-Mom,” she wailed. “It’s Christmas.”
“Which is no excuse to be dirty, Gretchen Janeway. Now march, and wash behind those ears, too. I am going to check to make sure the soap is wet.”
Geejay exhaled as if she were sorely persecuted. “How come I have to be clean, but you can be a plasma dampener?” she complained. “It’s not fair.”
Seven smirked. “Life rarely is, Geejay. Hurry up, so we can get the younger girls ready.”
Kathryn leaned against her wife, laughing. “You old plasma dampener. I mean for pete’s sake, Seven, aren’t holidays for staying dirty? I’m sure it says that somewhere in the Bible. Be ye unclean, ye holy ones. Something like that.”
“Darling, I love you, but you are a wise ass. And you are not helping in the discipline area,” Seven scolded her.
“Damn, you really are a plasma dampener,” Kathryn accused lightly, snuggling into her wife. “Didn’t I give you enough endorphins last night?” she teased.
“That’s the problem. Too many endorphins, not enough sleep. And I am sore from that last position,” she admitted, ice blue eyes twinkling merrily. “I am still not certain what you were doing.”
“It felt good, though, didn’t it?” Kathryn flirted.
Seven blushed. “Yes. Very. Will you show me again tonight?” she giggled.
“If you’re good all day, yes. I’m so glad Gerry remembered to sneak in this morning with the sleigh bells. He is the best granddad ever,” Kathryn praised the elder Thompson. “That ought to toast little miss scientific method’s skepticism,” she laughed wickedly.
“Isn’t it good that she deduced we are Santa Claus?” Seven asked, confused.
“She’s only nine. I want to keep her innocent a lot longer if I can. I know, most kids her age don’t believe any more, but they should. There’s plenty of time for reality later,” Kathryn asserted. “And Kieran has gone to great lengths to keep Katie just as deluded,” she noted. “Naomi grew up so fast, I just want it to go slower, this time,” she said softly.
“Agreed,” Seven nodded emphatically. “If Geejay goes to the Academy or to college early, like you and Kieran did, she could be gone in only six or seven years,” she noted, clouding considerably.
Kathryn hugged her close. “Don’t worry, sweetie, it’s a long time off. We’ll make the most of it, too, since I’ve relinquished command. I am feeling better and better all the time about that decision. I can’t tell you what a relief it will be to not work sixty hours to eighty hours every week.”
Seven studied her wife, the sharpness of her blue-grey eyes, the soft lines around those eyes, the tousled way her auburn hair fell around her face. And she knew Kathryn was telling the absolute truth. She wanted this career change. Seven kissed her fiercely, suddenly, pinning her down on the bed, moving over her and clutching at her body. She peered down at her wife, glacier blue eyes so full of love and adoration it took Kathryn’s breath away almost as much as the impact of Seven’s body flattening her own.
“Seven?” she asked gently, cupping the Borg’s cheek in her palm. “Are you all right, honey?”
“I am better than that,” Seven assured her. “And I love you with all that I am, Kathryn Janeway. All that I am or shall ever be, I will be because you taught me. Because you loved me,” she said, reciting part of their original wedding vows.
Kathryn’s heart warmed in her chest. “Oh, Annika,” she whispered. “I love you, too. I am so sorry it has taken me a decade to truly understand what you needed, and to finally know what is important in this life. We tease Kieran about raising Naomi, but darling, you have raised me every bit as much. I was so immature when you married me. So weak. I thought, stupidly, it was love that made me weak, when it was only pride that weakened me. Every day that I wake up with you, I know how close I have come to losing you, and I am so filled with gratitude to find you sleeping beside me. I know it could have been any number of people you chose to be with. But three times, you have been at that crossroad, and you chose me. Every time. I have but to look at myself and know I am not worthy for a second of even one of those choices. But I am thankful.”
Seven studied the steel gray of Kathryn’s eyes, eyes that never seemed cold or distant, now, not like they had in years past. She could see Kathryn’s emotions clearly. Someone had said once the eyes are the window to the soul. Seven was certain she had read that in a book of poetry Jenny Wildman had lent her. Gazing at Kathryn, she knew it was true. “Your eloquence flatters and fills me, my Kathryn. Thank you for being willing to make these changes for me, for our children. I promise you, if this new life we contemplate isn’t everything you want it to be, we will rethink our decision,” she vowed, touching Kathryn’s face and thinking there was no woman in all the worlds conquered by the Borg that could rival Kathryn’s strength and beauty.
Kathryn smiled confidently at her then. “What I want this life to be is spent with you. That is everything. I learned that because when you came back from the jungle planet, and I heard all the stories and read the logs and saw Kieran’s records, I knew then that the reason you came home so healthy and happy, the reason our daughter came home healthy and loved, is because Kieran had devoted herself single-mindedly to you both. And I saw how much that meant to you—that you actually need that from your partner. I heard you telling Naomi that that experience, though difficult, was one of the happiest times in your life. And I knew how far short I had fallen, how selfish I had been. And I knew that since you had experienced that kind of dedication, anything less would seem empty and contrived. So now I have to prove to you that I am capable of that. Know that I am willing,” she said sincerely.
Seven kissed her passionately, wishing for all the world they could make love all morning, but Geejay and Katie were having a water fight in the bathroom, and someone had to go referee.
Kathryn smiled up at her wife, eyes glowing. “Okay. It’s my turn to be the plasma dampener. You go take a shower and get the smell of me off of you, while I go knock heads, my love.”
_______________
Santa Claus was perched in the doorway of a shuttlecraft on the Janeway’s lawn. He bellowed “Ho ho ho,” at the children streaking across the back of the Janeway’s lot, and waved to Kathryn and Seven.
Kathryn quirked an eyebrow at her wife. “Who the hell is that?” she asked.
Seven shrugged. “I didn’t know anything about it. Kieran might have arranged it. Let’s go find out,” she said, taking Kathryn’s hand.
Santa Claus was accompanied by a dark-skinned, slender elf with very pointy ears, and a look that was not the least bit jolly. Kathryn’s face blossomed into the biggest smile as she recognized Tuvok, who tried to smile and act festive, but failed entirely. His attempt at grinning looked more like an animal baring its teeth. The Wildwomen were coming up the drive just then, and Santa Claus was trying to shoulder his sack of presents, but it was huge.
As Kathryn approached she noted the tribal tattoo that was barely concealed by the Santa hat, and she laughed out loud. “It’s Chakotay,” she whispered to Seven. Chakotay had done a stint on the Sato as the director of the arboretum, but he had returned to his homeworld when the unpleasantness began along the former demilitarized zone. Kathryn had not seen him for two years.
“Santa,” the former Captain said warmly, “how nice of you and your elf to drop by,” she laughed.
Chakotay grinned. “Do you think you have enough gifts in here, Kathryn?” he asked, acting merry but straining under the load.
“Probably, Santa. Come in out of the cold,” she directed the loaded down man and waved the entire crew into the house.
“Geejay,” he said to the Captain’s daughter, “you’re so big, Santa didn’t recognize you. Were you a good girl this year?”
“Yes, Sir,” she nodded, eyes wide and hands behind her back. “I’m always good.”
“Are not,” Katie shoved her. “You’re worse than I am,” she accused, laughing.
Kathryn moved everyone into the farmhouse, smiling and laughing as Chakotay staggered under the load of his sack. Tuvok was clearly amused, because his eyebrow quirked upward just slightly. It was the most emotion he ever showed. But he was enjoying Chakotay’s struggle, Kathryn knew, because he did not offer to assist the burly man in the velvet red Santa suit.
When Chakotay had deposited the bundle by the tree, he wiped his brow on his sleeve. “So, Ambassador Janeway, what can Santa give you for Christmas?” he asked, smiling warmly and kissing Kathryn’s cheek.
“Peace and prosperity,” she replied, squeezing his arm. “And a successful negotiation with the Klingons,” she added hopefully.
Santa and Tuvok passed gifts around and then bid a farewell to everyone. “Kathryn,” Chakotay said, eyes twinkling, “I left you a holiday greeting in your comm account.” He turned to Ro Laren, who had still not recognized him. “Laren,” he said warmly, “I want you to walk Santa and his elf back to their sleigh,” he invited her.
Laren was taken aback, but Kit nudged her. “Go on, honey, everyone obeys Santa Claus,” she encouraged her lover. “I’ll come too,” she offered, grabbing their coats.
Laren shrugged. “All right. Come on, Santa,” she agreed, opening Gretchen’s front door and letting the two men out. She and Kit followed them to the shuttle craft, and stepped inside.
“You still don’t know who I am?” Chakotay asked, grinning. The white beard totally obscured his facial features. “You don’t recognize two of Voyager’s most storied crewmen?”
Laren studied him intently. “Sorry, no,” she replied.
Chakotay pulled off the hat and the beard, laughing at the stunned Bajoran.
Ro Laren stared at the man in disbelief, then went to hug him. “Chakotay, good Prophets,” she exclaimed. “You were on Voyager?”
“I was,” he kissed her cheek. “I heard your cell got captured. We thought you were all dead.”
Laren smiled. “I was half dead when Kieran and Robin found me,” she agreed. “Mining dolamide for the Valerians and gagging up my own lungs,” she reported.
“And now?” he asked his former student. He had been Laren’s instructor for Advanced Tactical Training before he joined the Maquis.
“I’m the first officer on Sato,” she replied.
He smiled proudly at her. “You and B'Elanna reliving old times?” he asked.
“Sometimes, but new times are more interesting,” she decided.
“Kit,” he reached for Kieran’s daughter, “I understand you’re about to take the Bridge Officer’s exam,” he said fondly, hugging her. “You must have done a bang up job on your internship—isn’t that the last time I saw you?”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied.
He lifted her chin with his fingers. “Nice earring. Is it hers?” he jerked his head in Laren’s direction.
Kit nodded, grinning.
“Ah, I see Laren’s penchant for trouble continues,” he laughed. “We can’t stay. We contacted Kathryn’s mother when we knew we were going to be in the Sol system, and she asked us to drop by. She said Geejay had become a hardened skeptic, like her mother, and we decided that was a damned shame. Hence, the masquerade,” he winked at the two women.
“What brings you here, though?” Laren asked, still surprised to see her old mentor.
“I am here to accept a position as Ambassador,” Tuvok advised. “Domestic life was beginning to try my patience,” he reported.
Kit nodded. “Congratulations. You know, my mom would likely kill to have you both aboard Sato,” she tested the waters. “If you were at all inclined,” she added.
“I am certain Kieran is more than capable of filling the ‘big chair’,” Tuvok replied. “However, I don’t think I would abandon this posting,” he admitted.
“Are you saying you wouldn’t want to work for my mom?” Kit demanded of the Vulcan.
He quirked an eyebrow. “I would not want to work for either of you,” he deadpanned. “And from what I am told, you will be your mother’s first officer very soon,” he complimented Kieran’s eldest. “Besides, Mr. Neelix is aboard, is he not?”
The group laughed out loud. “He is,” Kit admitted. “The kids love him, though.”
“I suppose someone must,” Tuvok joked, sending the group into another fit of laughter.
Ro Laren filled the two men in on the latest gossip. Chakotay grilled her on everything in the ten minute conversation, and she assured him she had, in fact, not lost her mind, simply because she was involved with someone nearly twenty years younger than herself. As for the group marriage, she reported, it seemed to work for Kieran and Naomi.
Chakotay shook his head as they waved goodbye. He wasn’t convinced anyone in the Wildman family was sane.
_________________
Ro Laren and Kit Wildman came back to the house only to find everyone waiting expectantly for them. “What?” Laren asked as everyone stared at her.
Katie looked up at her as if she were beyond dense. “Nobody gets to open presents until everyone is here,” she informed her impatiently.
Laren looked dismayed. “I’m sorry—please, everyone, have at it,” she offered, slinking into the floor between Kit and Emily.
Kit shoved a pile of gifts over to her. “These are yours,” she said, grinning at the look of disbelief on Laren’s face.
“But I—I didn’t even know we were supposed to exchange gifts. This holiday is like—the Bajoran Gratitude Festival, only I didn’t know it. Though we don’t believe in some fat guy in a sleigh,” she added.
“Aliens are allowed to be unaware of our customs,” Seven replied. “We only wanted you to enjoy the holiday,” she offered politely.
Gretchen Janeway explained the ritual of everyone opening one gift at a time and saying who it came from. The process took hours, and it was the perfect way to fuel everyone’s appetite for breakfast.
Funny, festive, useful, and pretty things emerged from colorful boxes with bows; music, artwork, books, clothing, toys, foods, and all manner of trivial trinkets appeared. Ro Laren was simply stunned to find herself completely outfitted for diving, and holding a ticket for a dive vacation with her roommates. Kit had also given her a lovely formal outfit that was very Bajoran, the sort of elegant attire worn for holidays and important occasions. Laren was utterly taken by the copper colored cloth. Beyond that, Emily and Jenny had completely showered her with gifts. Jenny gave her a book of poetry that had photographs of the natural wonders of the earth illustrating the verses, and Laren was amazed by it. She couldn’t put it down, in fact. Jenny had also given her a miniature holovid that showed a holoimage of the Jalanda Forum, decorated for the festival of lights, a framed photo of the Bajoran and Kit taken at Kieran and Seven’s homecoming, a wrist-worn dive computer, and a handmade gift that Laren was fascinated by. It was a book filled with poems Jenny had written herself, illustrated with colored sketches Jenny had done. It was wholly unique and truly a gift of herself.
Jenny had moved beside the older woman to look over her shoulder as she read the first few poems. “Jenny,” Laren said softly, “this is unbelievable. You’re so talented. You made this for me?” she was moved at the obvious labor that had gone into it, and the creative energy.
Jenny smiled softly. “I thought it would be an easy way to get to know me better. So you’ll know how I think, how I feel about the world. I know it’s sort of personal, but—I guess that book is who I am, fundamentally.”
Laren gazed into her frost-white eyes, unable to articulate what she felt. “I can only say thank you, Jen. I will treasure this because you made it. Because it is a piece of you.”
Jenny leaned closer and kissed Ro Laren’s cheek, then, the briefest of touches, the faintest indication. “I’m glad you like it. I want to know you just as much, Laren,” she replied sincerely.
Laren was startled at the kiss, but she didn’t say a word in protest. She did, however, avert her eyes the second Jenny moved away. “My mother was a poet,” she offered softly, not meeting Jenny’s eyes.
“I know,” Jenny replied. “I’ve read every poem of hers that I can access through the data base,” she admitted.
Laren smiled enigmatically at her roommate.
Laren had received from Emily a model of a bantaca, more specifically, the Ro family’s bantaca, with her family’s names and birthdates carved into it, adorned by Bajoran symbols for life, for Pagh, for love. There were three scriptures engraved in each face, and Emily had carefully selected the ones that she felt were personal to Ro Laren. Laren realized that in order for Emily to do this, she must have read the books of the Prophets in depth. Emily had also given her a Bajoran calendar, and a recording of a Bajoran musician, Varani. Emily had also gotten her an excellent buoyancy control vest with integrated weights for diving. Finally, Emily had given her a box of jumja taffy.
Kit had rounded out Laren’s diving equipment with a rebreather, mask, fins, plasma torch, wrist lamp, and a dive bag. She gave the Bajoran jumja sticks dipped in chocolate, a teddy bear that looked like a jumja bear, and a wall hanging with the poem The Call of the Prophets engraved on it, all twelve stanzas, and scripted in Bajoran.
“I don’t know what to say, you guys,” Laren told her roommates. “I’m pretty overwhelmed. Thank you for all of this.”
Geejay Janeway was being nosey, and peeked inside the box of chocolate jumja sticks. “What’s that?” she asked.
Laren smiled. “Here,” she said happily, “try one.” She handed the youngster a stick and Geejay’s eyes lit right up.
“Oh, that’s really good,” she sighed. “Better than caramel brownies,” she enthused.
“Give one to Katie,” Laren handed her a second one. “See what she thinks.”
Kieran scowled at Laren. “If you get them hyped up on sugar, Missy, you get to referee,” she scolded.
Laren laughed. “I’ll poke them both with pain sticks, how’s that?” she teased.

Christmas breakfast was legendary at the Janeway household, and Gretchen, Seven, Naomi, Robin and Phoebe did the honors, putting together huge trays piled with waffles and French toast, bowls heaped with eggs scrambled with cheese, ham, and red bell peppers, platters overflowing with bacon and sausage links, and biscuits slathered in Gretchen’s homemade sausage gravy. Grapefruit and orange juice, milk, tea, and coffee rounded out the morning feast, which was more like brunch. Christmas dinner would not be until early evening, when the turkey had cooked to a golden brown.

The entire family talked and laughed around the table, and Ro Laren was certain she had never witnessed so much love in one place. It made her eyes mist more than once, watching the gentle way Seven touched Kathryn’s face, the solicitous way Kieran fixed coffee for Lenara, for Gretchen, for Cameron, the way that Gretchen helped her granddaughter with her food, the way Harry gazed at Phoebe with pure adoration. Everywhere she looked, people were smiling, touching, laughing, helping each other. Katie sat in Kieran’s lap for a long while, sharing off her mother’s plate, and behaving so well that even Kieran was surprised. Naomi waited on Lenara hand and foot, lest the pregnant woman strain herself, and Kathryn and Seven chuckled at their daughter’s protectiveness of her Trill wife. The smaller children were passed around, and Kieran helped Cami eat sausage with her fingers while Seven cradled Erin and let Kieran steal Erin’s kisses.
It struck Laren that there was a seamlessness to this family, a fluidity. No one thought of Gretchen and Gerry as Kathryn and Kieran’s parents. They were just Mom and Dad. And Cami belonged to Naomi and Kieran and Lenara as much as Robin, and Geejay was just as close to Kieran as Katie was. The Moms called Jenny their daughter, without throwing in the “in-law” part. Harry and Kieran were like siblings, just as much as Kathryn and Phoebe were siblings, and the entire group had adopted Cassidy and Cameron as though they never came from another dimension. As far as Gerry was concerned, Cassidy was his daughter, and Cameron his daughter’s wife, and he loved them. And Chance was his grandbaby, as sure as if she’d come from Kieran. There weren’t any Kims or Thompsons or Janeways or Wildmans at this table. It didn’t matter that she was a Ro, or that Jenny had been a Calvert, or that Katie was a Torres. This was just family, and by virtue of her being lovers with Kit, she was one of them. It was an awesome concept to someone who never felt like she belonged anywhere except in a Maquis cell.
For the first time in her life, Ro Laren understood the appeal of belonging, the desirability of being included in something bigger than herself. She was beginning to feel connected to these people, to all of them on varying levels and in deepening degrees. Jenny Wildman sat next to her, and was looking equally pleased, a fond gaze resting on Robin, who was feeding Cami a piece of French toast, another on Gerry, who had just kissed Gretchen’s cheek, a glance at Harry who had Edward in his lap, hugging him. Her eyes came to rest on Ro Laren, and she smiled over at her, taking her hand.
“Merry Christmas, Laren,” she said softly. “Now do you see why it’s my favorite holiday?”
Laren leaned closer and kissed Jenny’s cheek. “I do.”

Christmas night was for singing carols, roaring fires, roasting marshmallows, and letting drowsy children fall asleep in the laps of the adults. Kit was holding Cami, who was out for the count, Seven had Hannah, who was snoring, Kieran had Erin, who sucked intermittently on a bottle, Kathryn had Edward curled in her lap, Geejay was sitting with Naomi, Cassidy had Katie, and somehow, Laren had ended up with Chance, who was sucking her fist and kicking her feet in fits and starts.

Jenny and Emily flanked the Bajoran, who actually lapsed into talking to Chance in a doting, cooing way, until she saw Emily wink at Jenny. She retreated into more dignified dialogue after that.
“Sing her the jumja song,” Jenny urged.
Laren shook her head. “Nope. She’s not Bajoran. She should hear the gumdrop song,” she decided.
Kit, Emily, Jenny and Laren sang the gumdrop song, and Katie and Geejay demanded to learn it, so Emily taught them. Pretty soon, all the adults were singing it too.
If all the raindrops were lemon drops and gumdrops, oh what a rain it would be!

I would never mind if the sun would never shine, oh,

I’d keep a’wishin’ for raindrops all the time,

If all the raindrops were lemon drops and gumdrops, oh what a rain it would be!