The Sato Series, Episode 3: a new Frontier

“I give!” Emily pleaded for mercy. “Laren, I give, stop,” she giggled.
“Okay. But only because I’m out of tarter sauce,” she decided. “I’ll run the shower, Ems,” she said amiably, heading for the ensuite.
Emily lay there panting, and sat up to look at her wives. “You are so on my shit list,” she told them. “Why didn’t you help me?” she demanded.
Jenny smiled. “Laren was having fun,” she shrugged. “You should go take a shower. You’re gross. Ask her to help you,” Jenny suggested, waggling her eyebrows.
“Okay. You guys will really recycle these?”
Kit nodded. “No problem.”
Emily stepped into the ensuite, shucking her clothes. “Am I invited in there?” she asked.
Laren stuck her head out. “Sure. How can I refuse after getting you all disgusting?” she laughed. She surveyed the damage as Emily stepped into the stall. “I think I got carried away, Ems. Hold still,” she offered, soaping her washcloth. “Close your eyes,” she said, scrubbing Emily’s face clean of the thick goop. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I really got this all over you. Rinse your face.”
Emily obediently stood under the shower head, rinsing the soap away. “Laren, is it in my hair?” she asked, feeling something sticky.
“Yep. Here, let me wash it for you,” she said apologetically. “Damn Ems, I didn’t hurt you, did I? It’s like mat wrestling in judo, I just don’t always know my own strength,” she explained.
“You didn’t hurt me, sweetie, honest. It was funny,” she asserted, rinsing her head and letting the water soak her.
Laren poured shampoo in her hands and worked it into Emily’s dark hair. “It’s shorter than when you got married,” she noted. “You didn’t like it long?”
“Too much trouble,” Emily said. “This is easier to take care of. Did it look better long?” she asked, worried now.
Laren massaged her fingers into Emily’s scalp with strong hands, getting the roots good and clean. “It looks fine, either way. I just wondered why you changed it.” She massaged Emily’s temples where the vallette had been tattooed on her skin, suddenly realizing it made Emily look like a genuine Trill.
“Well, I used to wear it longer to cover the scars on my shoulders. But now that I’m healed, I can wear it shorter,” she explained.
Laren eased her under the spray, rinsing her hair for her, scrubbing her fingers over it to loosen the foam. “Ems,” she said thoughtfully, “your parents did that to you?”
“Not my parents, a foster parent, singular. She beat all her foster kids. But the foster parents before that wanted to sell me into prostitution, so it seemed like a better deal,” she said flippantly.
Laren’s jaw dropped. “Are you fucking kidding me? Ems, tell me you’re joking,” she pleaded, her eyes filling with tears.
“Laren,” Emily said gently, “don’t get upset. It happens. You’ve been through much worse. I’ve had it easy, by comparison.”
Laren stood there, dripping, helpless, without any way to explain what she was feeling. “Ems,” she touched her face. “They were Cardassians. Not my family,” she protested. “Prophets, we expected them to beat us and rape us and torture us. That’s part of war. That’s what Cardassians do to their prisoners. But it’s not what happens to you in your home, honey,” she insisted.
They stood there, staring, hearts aching for one another. Laren caressed Emily’s face with her thumb, brushing it over her wet cheek. “How could anyone treat you like that? Hurt you like that?” she demanded of no one.
Emily bit her lip. “I asked myself that for eighteen years. I never did figure out an answer,” she said, her composure breaking. “I just wanted—to be loved, to be protected. That’s all. It didn’t seem like much to ask. But no one protected you, either,” she said, tears puddling in her dark, beautiful eyes.
Laren swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry. My parents—they would have stopped the Cardassians from hurting me if they could have. It’s just that they couldn’t. It wasn’t their fault. My father was this kind, gentle, soft-spoken man—like Lenara. Like you,” she realized. “He was serious and studious and contemplative, like you. He even loved astronomy,” she wondered at it. “You would have liked him. I would have been happy to share him,” she said sadly. Laren regarded her with empathy, unable to fathom how frightening it would be to have your parents, the people who should protect you, turn you into prey.
Emily’s stomach felt like it was in a knot. She held Laren’s hand against her own cheek, turning her face into the palm. “It’s okay,” she murmured, kissing her hand. “It was a long time ago. I have great parents now, a family that loves me, two women who would do anything for me.”
“Three,” Laren corrected her. “You have three,” she promised, hugging her close, not even conscious that they were naked. “Kai and all the Prophets, Ems,” she held her tightly, “I feel so scared, now, like—they’re coming for you, or something, and I have to stop them.”
Emily caressed her hair, holding onto her slender body. “Isn’t that funny? That’s how Kit says she felt, when I showed her my back, like—protective?”
Laren nodded, looking in her eyes. “Protective. I know it’s too late for that, but I feel it anyway. Kai, I want to hurt those people for doing that to you,” she realized. “I want them to suffer more.”
Emily gazed into dark, brooding eyes. “That’s how I felt when I found out about your father. Jenny kept scolding me for hating the Cardies, but God, I wanted to make them hurt worse than they made you hurt. Laren,” she blinked tears down her cheeks, “it hurts me to think about what they did to you. I know how it feels to be scared, and alone, and to know no one is going to help you.”
Laren’s tears finally spilled over. “That’s what I saw when I looked at Kit—the comprehension of that. She knew what it felt like. And I had to make that look go away. Do you understand, that’s why Emily? I didn’t mean to take her from you or Jenny. I just couldn’t bear that helpless, frightened look in her eyes when it seemed we’d never find Kieran. I had to make the hurt stop.”
Emily nodded, holding Laren’s face in her hands. “I know exactly. I knew then. Laren, I never blamed you for that. I was angry with her for not letting it be us, but not any more. Who stopped the hurt doesn’t matter, just that the hurt stopped. And you found Kieran for her. God, Laren, I would love you for that alone, even if I didn’t already love you for you,” she said softly.
Laren closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against Emily’s. She thought about love, and about how rare that sentiment was in her life, but how much had come to her since she let herself love Kit. Exactly two people in her life had said they loved her. Her mother and her father. Until Kit. And then Kieran said it, too, and Laren knew she meant every word. And even though Lenara hadn’t said it that day on the sailboat, Laren felt it coming from her. And now from Emily, and the impulse to kiss her was so strong, her knees were almost buckling.
“Are you clean?” Laren asked.
Emily grinned. “I have no idea. I sort of forgot to wash myself. Are you?”
Laren shook her head. “I doubt it. I don’t think I washed anything but my hands,” she replied, laughing.

Bundled in thick, absorbent robes, hair wrapped in towels, they emerged from the bathroom. Kit and Jenny were lying together, asleep, curled around one another.

“Were we in there a long time?” Laren whispered.
Emily nodded. “Looks like,” she smiled. She took Laren’s hand, pulling her down on the other bed. “I don’t want to wake them up. Is that okay?”
Laren chuckled. “I just spent an hour naked with you. I think I can handle sleeping next to you.”
Emily towel dried her hair, leaving it unkempt. Laren combed her fingers through it to get it out of Emily’s eyes, smiling at her. “Ems,” she said in a whisper, “you are so pretty. Even with your hair all wild.”
Emily grinned. “I am a Wildwoman,” she pointed out. “And you’re the pretty one. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of you at Gretchen’s,” she teased. “Thanks for—talking about stuff,” she said enigmatically. “It felt good to get some of it out. Robbie says it’s like—”
“Peeling an onion,” Laren completed the sentence. “I know. She was my therapist,” she admitted. She dried her own hair, messing it up, but getting the excess water out.
“She made you switch when you got involved with Kit, I bet,” Emily correctly noted.
“Yeah. Now it’s Amy Scott,” Laren agreed. She couldn’t shake the nervous, upset feeling that had settled in her gut when Emily talked about being sold into prostitution, and she needed to quell it. “Ems, I want to—” Laren hesitated. “Is it too weird if I want to hold you? I just need to know you’re okay, that you’re right here, and safe.”
Emily smiled softly. “I was going to ask you to. I feel kind of shaken, too,” she admitted, moving into Laren’s arms. It felt natural. Comfortable. “Why do you suppose that happens? When you tell someone something from the past, that’s far away, and not really relevant, but it still leaves you upset?”
“I don’t know. I guess maybe we think, if it happened once, it can again?” she sighed. “I know I’ve been my own worst enemy—I’ve made bad choices and got myself into situations I couldn’t salvage. I’m afraid of myself more than anyone.”
“Averone,” she said softly, “I’ve been there. Right there. God, when Kit and I broke up, I just hit a downward spiral and nose dived and couldn’t pull out. I slept with everything that walked, got drunk all the time, broke up relationships—I was a mess. And it was all my own doing. And then one day I found myself on the Admin building, jumping off.”
Laren clutched at her tightly. “Prophets up a jumja tree. Kathryn told me that. And maybe I didn’t believe it, or didn’t want to believe it, I don’t know. But it never seemed real until right this second.” She drew a shuddering breath. “Isn’t that building thirteen stories?” she asked.
“Yes,” Emily confirmed. “Kieran saved me. She jumped when I did, and knocked me on my sorry ass, and kept me from going off the edge. Only she fell, and was hanging there by her hands, and Kit and Robbie and I pulled her back up. Oh, my God, Laren, it was the lowest moment of my life. I love Kit, I love Kieran, and I almost made them lose each other. And in spite of all that, somehow, Kit loves me anyway. She married me. I had the most horrid reputation on campus, and those two looked past it, and dragged me out of the mire I had created for myself, and they married me.”
Laren felt tears threatening again, thinking about Kit. “Kit didn’t care about my past, either. I tried to talk her out of loving me for her own good, because my reputation was so bad. But she wouldn’t listen. I suspect she learned that from Kieran.”
“Well, it’s not without precedent. That sort of loyalty is what got Voyager home from the Delta Quadrant,” Emily replied.
“I haven’t heard that story. What are you talking about?”
Emily explained the Wesley Crusher angle on the story, and Laren had to laugh. “So Kit gets it from Kieran.”
Emily nodded, yawning. “I think I’m falling asleep,” she murmured. “I should get some jammies on.”
Laren got up too, and found Kit’s sweatshirt Kit wore earlier in the day. She pulled it over her head, found clean underwear, and crawled under the covers. Emily slid in beside her and reached to switch the light out. She had to lean over Laren to reach it, and Laren was looking up at her, inches from her face.
Emily kissed her then, soft, warm lips, brushing over Laren’s with a faint smile. “Good night, Ro Laren,” Emily said, hugging her.

Jenny Wildman awoke to the faint light coming in through the slender edge of exposed window, drowsy, but content to find Kit wrapped around her. Kit woke up at nearly the same instant, a little surprised she had slept the night through, and more surprised that Laren and Emily hadn’t awakened them to switch beds.

Jenny smiled softly at her wife, leaning in to kiss her. “Hi,” she said shyly. “I think I remember you. Didn’t we used to be married?”
Kit grinned. “Something like that. Thanks for being patient with this situation, Jen,” she whispered. “Look at them,” she added, inclining her head over her shoulder.
Emily was asleep in Laren’s arms, and Laren was holding her so close, it was hard to distinguish body parts in the dim light. Jenny nodded, smiling. “They are kindred spirits. They have everything in common, save for their careers,” she said quietly.
Kit thought about it, realized the truth of it. They both knew the sting of abuse, of rejection. They had both wrecked their own reputations, their futures, only to have to rebuild them from scratch. Their temperaments were similar, in that they tended to be serious and pensive, but could be playful in the right setting. And Laren was opening up so much, just as Emily had when Kit and Jenny first befriended her, even before the romantic involvement began.
“I can see that,” Kit agreed. She gazed at her wife and felt a pang of regret. “I miss you, Corinne,” she said as she kissed Jenny’s forehead.
Jenny kissed her then, and the feeling flooded back to Kit, the memories and hopes they shared, the knowledge of failing one another too often. Jenny deepened their kiss, hands warm in Kit’s hair, heart opening again, accepting the risk. “I love you, Kyle,” she assured her between kisses. “I know you love her, and I want this to work,” she promised. “And I am trying to be patient, but it’s not easy,” she confessed. “Don’t mistake my patience for indifference, though,” she added.
“I don’t, honey,” Kit acknowledged, touching her face, tracing the outline of her lips with one languid fingertip. “Don’t you take my patience as a sign of indifference, either. I do love you, Jenny, and I want to be with you. I hope it can be that way, someday. But I have to know Laren is fine with it, first. She’s been used and treated as disposable her whole life, and I never want to be someone she can say that of. I have to take care of her heart.”
“I know, and I want you to take care of her. Kit, believe me when I tell you I love her. I think she’s bright and sweet and funny, and my heart breaks for her past. I am glad to have her in our lives, and grateful that she’s so resilient and strong to be able to overcome so much. I want to be for her what we were for Ems, the foundation she needs to really reframe her life, to make it so solid she wants it too much to mess it up again. I am sorry for all of the cutting remarks I made about her reputation, and your involvement with her jeopardizing yours. It was superficial and petty of me, and I’ve never regretted anything so much.”
Kit kissed her tenderly, lingering over it, tasting her tongue and sighing. “I should never have yelled at you like that. I’m sorry, honey. I was so far out of line. But you know what it feels like, processing the information that someone you love as much as your own life has been mistreated, and how hard it is to swallow that with any grace at all.”
Jenny nodded. “I do know, Kyle, and I forgive you. I was never angry at you for saying those things. You were right. I didn’t know a goddamned thing I was talking about. I had no right. And I totally misjudged her.”
Kit smiled warmly at her wife, nuzzling her lips. “You really do love her?”
Jenny nodded. “Not romantically, not yet, but in the same way I loved Ems when the three of us started to get close. The difference is, back then, I knew I was going to fall in love with Emily. I knew it when she was in the hospital. I felt it, like—I don’t know, like a premonition? I could see that the logical course would be for the three of us to be together, because you had never stopped loving her. And now with Laren, it seems the same—like that’s the logical course, only, I’m not sure she’ll ever see it. Do you think?”
Kit shrugged. “Hard to say. But she was definitely flirting with Ems last night.”
Jenny sensed an undercurrent in Kit’s mood. “Does that bother you?”
“I thought it was funny at the time,” Kit said contemplatively. “Maybe I’m a little bit jealous because I don’t want her to be in love with anyone but me, yet. Conceited,” she laughed at herself. “But I think she’s starting to realize the up side of it all. The downside is having to share me, and that’s still the sticking point with her, I think.” Kit touched Jenny’s cheek, fascinated by the softness of it. “I think I’m just stuck between our world and hers. You know? I mean, she and I have been monogamous for so long, it’s a little disconcerting to think of her with Emily or with you. I’m a total hypocrite, though, because I want you right this second,” she admitted. “But I think it would be bad form for them to wake up and find us making love.”
“Probably. Damn, though,” Jenny laughed. “Maybe sharing a room was a bad idea?”
Kit shook her head. “No. She’s bonding with you guys. Even if it’s not a sexual relinquishing of her walls, she’s learning to let you both care about her, and she’s learning to care in return. That’s huge for her, Jen. The only reason she ever let me in was that she had seen me in a vision from an orb a long time ago. Otherwise, she’d have closed me out, too, and only let B'Elanna near her emotionally. But it’s exponential, now—she let me in, and then Mom, and you and Ems, and Cassidy, and she’s really starting to click with Lenara. I think eventually, her life is going to be so filled with people who love her, she’ll learn to be open all the time. Right now it still takes conscious effort.”
“I think seeing the Moms together at Christmas helped too,” Jenny observed. “I think everyone got a glimpse into their dynamic—Phoebe, Gretchen, Gerry, Harry, Seven and Kathryn—and I think it’s begun to sink in that it works for them, and they really are happy with the marriage. Mostly, Kathryn’s family needed to be assured that Naomi was happy, and Naomi is just ecstatic over the baby with Lenara, so of course, that shines through. How does Laren feel about kids? I mean, Ems is going to want at least a couple, eventually. And honey, I don’t want to be raising them without you as part of that effort. We signed on for that together.”
“She seems good with B'Elanna’s brood, and that’s not easy. Lanna’s kids are pretty out of control. Katie’s better behaved, because Mom gets on her case, but Kelsey is a brat. Laren takes it all in stride when she’s with them, and she and Lanna are very close. So I think she’d be fine with our kids. I’ve never asked her. Honestly, Jen, I just try to go day to day with her, this whole living together thing is such a stretch. And I hope she keeps trying, because I’m a wasteland without her,” Kit confided. “But then, you saw that. I don’t know what it is about her, Jen. She just—it’s like with Mom. You know? I can’t function without Mom, and I can’t function without Laren.”
“I have seen,” Jenny agreed. “And I think it’s a complicated dynamic you share with her. But there are parallels, Kit. Kieran saved you from your uncle, and Laren saved you from losing Kieran.”
“There is that, but it’s deeper. I felt it the first time I talked to her, like we just belong together. I’ve never had that kind of visceral reaction to anyone except Kieran. And it was immediate and powerful with Laren, where as with Kieran, it took me a long time to trust her. My reaction was to avoid Laren, at first, but when we were on the search parties, I couldn’t, and she reached out to me. I’ve never known her to do that with anyone, Jen, ever. B'Elanna told me she never has, but it killed Laren to see me crying over Mom. B'Elanna said Laren was always impervious to everything, until she met me. And I respond to that,” she realized.
“Like your mom. You respond to people’s needs. And Laren needs you more than anyone ever has, even more than Ems. I can see it in her eyes when she looks at you, like she could just swallow you whole and never let go. There’s a desperation about her, and that’s sad, though,” Jenny noted. She sighed. “We should get up. We’re due at the pier in another two hours, and we need food. Should we let them sleep and go for breakfast? Bring it back here?”
Kit nodded. “Good idea. Ems looks dead to the world, bless her heart. They look so cute together,” she added.
Emily Wildman slept unaware of the scrutinizing gazes directed at her. She held tightly to Ro Laren, mirroring her when she shifted, contouring behind her, vaguely conscious of Laren’s arm holding her own around Laren’s torso, seamlessly moving into one another’s arms as Laren rolled onto her back. Ro Laren’s mind started to stir, registering an unfamiliar scent, progressively conscious that she was not with Kit. The body in her embrace was more slender, softer, less cut. Emily squeezed her lightly, and Laren tucked Emily under her chin, hand resting on Emily’s head. Laren instinctively kissed her hair, smelling it. Emily, her brain said, not Kit. She forced herself not to pull away, not to move Emily across the mattress. She recalled the conversation in the shower, and the emotion returned: protectiveness.
Ro Laren had seen abuse beyond description in her life, torture. But to be unwanted by the parents who brought you into the world, the ones who gave you your Pagh, the souls who wrote your name in the scrolls of the Celestial Temple before you were born? That was a cruelty she could not begin to process. She remembered the eyes of her father as he was dying, the embarrassment he felt for his understandable reaction to the agony he was in. Laren had known how much it cost him that she had to watch. He wanted to be strong for her, but he was in such pain. Laren swallowed hard, tears gathering in her eyes. He had refused to beg for his life. But he begged for hers, pleaded with the snake-faced Cardassians not to hurt his little girl. She had forgotten that. How he fell to the feet of the Prefect, sobbing for his daughter’s life, how he pleaded with them not to force her to watch them kill him.
Parents were supposed to love their children, protect them, cherish them. And Emily’s had thrown her away, like inconvenient garbage. This amazing girl, with bright, curious eyes and intellect any parent would be proud of, this woman with a huge heart, a forgiving spirit, a Pagh that glowed with brilliance and purity—had been unwanted. A burden. And she had been shuffled from home to home, reminded every day that she was not worth raising, not worth loving, not worth the effort. Laren’s body shook as she cried, her mind filled with the sound of her father’s pain, the blood that he sweat down his face. He would not cry out, no matter how much it hurt, because Laren was listening. She was screaming, fighting against the Cardassian guard who held her in place, crying, begging them to stop.
“Bahana?” she asked, the endearment Bajoran children called their fathers. Ro Laren launched herself out of bed, running for the ensuite, vomiting copiously into the toilet, trying to purge the memory. She had succeeded in burying it for thirty-three years. But it would not be erased. Ever.
Emily had awakened when Laren spoke, and now found her in a fetal position in the bathroom floor, ghostly white and bathed in sweat, biting her lip so hard a ribbon of blood trickled down her chin. She was talking to herself in Bajoran, and Emily picked out a word or two—“Bahana”, which meant ‘daddy’, and “jerata” which meant ‘death’, and “vakala” which meant ‘mercy’.
The toilet was full of vomitus, and Emily flushed it down. “Laren?” she whispered. “Honey, what is it?”
Laren’s eyes were glassy, but she realized where she was, and who she was with. “I’m sick,” she said. “That’s all. It will pass.”
“Can I get you anything?” Emily asked tenderly, wiping the sweat and blood from Laren’s face with a clean towel.
“Water—cold,” she replied, shivering in the tile floor.
Emily brought her a glass of water and helped her sit up against the vanity. Laren drank the liquid down, watching the room spin in a sickly fashion.
Emily sat close, holding her hand. “When I get sick I drink chocolate milk. It settles my stomach, and if it comes back up it tastes okay,” she offered. “Let me get you some?”