fic: All In A Weeks Day 1/5 PG-13 HL/Voy xover (prompt: trust)
Title: All In A Weeks Day
Author: Aeron Lanart
Genre: Highlander/Star Trek: Voyager crossover
Rating: PG-13 but does contain a references to a multiple relationship so if such things offend, don't read!
Warnings/Spoilers: AU for both Highlander and Voyager. No warnings/Spoilers otherwise.
Disclaimer: Trekstuff is owned by Paramount/Viacom. Highlander stuff is owned by Davis/Panzer productions
Marahet the immortal belongs to Alis, this is a companion piece to her story 'A Sense of Immortality'
Title from the song of the same name by A Wedding Anniversary.
OCC prompt = Trust
A/N: The characters do a fair bit of thinking in this. Thoughts are designated by //....//
All In A Week's Day
Q watched silently, unobserved, as the dark haired woman moved purposefully through the chattering flurry that was made up of more than a few of Voyager's children. As she waved the last of her young charges out of the sickbay, Q could not help but succumb to an invisible smile. Voyager had changed so much in the years it had been in the delta quadrant, the children were indicative of that, and yet he was still curiously fond of them all, or as fond as a Q could be. The woman he observed fascinated him in a different way. She was an enigma; out of place, possibly even out of time. Immortal. A veritable puzzle indeed, and Q *liked* puzzles.
Siannon had been unable to shake off the feeling that she was being watched. The tell-tale prickle between her shoulders had developed while she had been vaccinating a group of the Voyager children against the latest virus that *someone* had managed to pick up while on shore leave. By the time she was alone and clearing up after herself, she was feeling almost paranoid.
Turning to lean against the bulkhead, she cast her eyes around the expanse of sickbay. Nothing. The feeling of being watched didn't go away, if anything it got worse. She shook her head.
Crazy. She was going crazy, imagining things. Even so, she had to do *something*, no matter how strange it seemed.
"I may be going crazy, but I'd appreciate it if you could show yourself." She was quite pleased that her voice didn't betray any of her uncertainty.
Q grinned to himself. He could never resist an invitation, especially off an attractive woman. Time to oblige the lady, after all he didn't want to keep her waiting once she'd *asked*... He popped into existence with the usual ostentatious flash. Siannon stared at him, surprise being the most obvious expression on her face. Q smiled at her, gestured expansively.
"You called?" He intoned. She struggled to find her voice.
"Q!" Siannon felt less than pleased with her eloquence, or rather her lack of it, but Q had been the last entity she'd expected to see. She felt somewhat vindicated by the fact that she *had* been being watched, but was still curious as to why Q had reappeared, especially to *her*.
Q rubbed a sleeve over his Starfleet communicator, fingered the Captain's pips on his collar. It was long time since he had appeared like this, it was comforting, familiar. He raised his head to smile at Siannon.
"The very same." Siannon took a couple of steps forward, the surprise leaving her face to be replaced by suspicion.
"Just why are you here, Q?" Q tried his best to look innocent, and failed dismally.
"Why? Do I need a reason?" Siannon glared at him, not deigning to answer the question. Q shrugged. "You interest me, that's all." She snorted, her disbelief written all over her face, in every line of her body.
"Why do I have trouble believing that? Kathryn interests you, as does her child. Jean-Luc Picard *interests* you. But me?" Siannon began to turn away, shaking her head. Q scowled at her.
"You leave Jean-Luc out of this."
"You tell me what you *really* want." They stared at each other. Deadlock. Q relented first.
"I have. You're a puzzle. An anomaly. A fish out of water. *Interesting*."
"Oh?" Siannon's curiosity was piqued, despite her mistrust of the omnipotent being.
"I find you immortals fascinating, living cheek by jowl with humanity; part of it, and yet apart from it. Even you. Like I said, fascinating. Marooned out here, away from your own kind, where you *shouldn't* be. And yet...” There was a sudden lighting of his face as he looked at her. "I could change that you know, and send you back." He vaguely began to gesture, only to have his hand grabbed in Siannon's vice like grip as she yelled at him,
"Don't you frigging well dare, you overbearing piece of omnipotent horseshit!" It was Q's turn to be surprised as he stared into eyes that were almost spitting green fire. Nobody had ever spoken to him like that before. Siannon was furious. "My place is here. *Here*! I'm a wife, a mother, a lover. I live and work surrounded by my family and I'm happier than I've been in decades. Maybe even centuries. I have everything I've ever wanted right here on this ship, and you want me to go *back*? No way. No fucking way." Q tore his hand from her grasp, shaking it as if it pained him while he glared at her.
"You'll have to go back eventually, no matter what. I just thought you may like to go back while you've still got a chance of surviving, before you lose your skills completely." Siannon took a step back from Q, looking at him with more than a little apprehension.
"Lose my skills? What do you mean?" There was a flash, and before she could truly register just what was happening, Q had a sword at her neck, handling it expertly.
"This," he growled. The cold steel kissed the skin of her throat, a thin line of blood welling from beneath the sword as he moved round her. "*The Game* I think you call it. Just how long do you think you'd last now? Your reactions are slow, the speed that was your advantage has gone, and your instinct has all but disappeared in the years you've been out here. You're perilously close to losing that pretty head of yours, and what good would *that* do your family?" He stepped away from her, raising the sword from her neck before flinging it behind him to wink out of existence; staring at her as she rubbed uncomfortably at the thin red line on her neck. Siannon lowered her hand to look at her own blood on her fingers. So close. She sighed.
"Don't you think I know that? I keep hoping that we won't get home in this crew's lifetime, so I don't have to change again. If we do get home..." She raised concerned eyes to Q, shrugged. "I still have some friends back in the alpha quadrant." Q gave her an enigmatic smile.
"So you do. However, there is another way."
"Another way? What in the seven hells are you going on about?"
"Now that would be telling." He grinned at her and disappeared with a snap of his fingers and a flash of light, leaving her gaping at empty space.
"Great. Just fucking great. What in all the universe did I do to deserve *this*?" Siannon sank down onto the nearest biobed, head in hands, her thoughts in an absolute turmoil. "Why me? And why
*now*?"
Although there was no answer forthcoming, Siannon could almost hear ethereal laughter echoing through the silence. Q would be back, if only to tease some more with his enigmatic comments.
The silence was eventually broken by the swish of the doors opening as B'Elanna Torres rushed in. She made directly for the biobed, and the figure that was still huddled there.
"What happened? Something's shaken you up, I could feel you down in engineering and we all know how to shield better than that by now." She perched next to the still silent woman, waiting.
Siannon eventually looked up, giving B'Elanna a half hearted smile.
"Q." She stated baldly. B'Elanna frowned, crinkling up her forehead ridges.
"Q was here? What did he want?"
"Beats me. Said I was interesting, amongst other things." Siannon sighed. "I'd probably best show you, I'm not really sure I understand it myself." They reached for each others hands with
the ease of long familiarity; preparing themselves for the intense feelings that the sharing of thoughts, images and emotions still provoked, even though years had passed since they were soul-bound on Hesdaria. B'Elanna broke their handclasp first, almost exploding off the biobed.
"That... that... capricious, unscrupulous, omnipotent little *bastard*. I'd like to tear him apart and turn him into Targ feed. Personally." She took a deep breath, calming herself down a little. "Of course you can help if you want." She walked back over to the biobed and brushed her fingers along Siannon's neck, where smears of her blood were still visible. "At least you're all right."
"I'm fine now. I just wasn't exactly prepared for a visit from Q, or for how I'd react. You know, I think I may take you up on the offer of turning him into Targ feed. We'd have to invite Harry and Tom along though, or they'd be terribly offended at being left out of the fun."
"Good point. There’re only two problems that I can see." B'Elanna paused for effect, and Siannon obliged her with the requisite question.
"Which are?"
"We haven't got a Targ, and Q would probably make it sick even if we did." Siannon burst out laughing, meeting B'Elanna's grin with sparkling eyes.
"You're as bad as Harry. And Tom."
"Must be the company I keep. Are you ready to go now?"
"Yeah, I'm ready." Siannon reached out for B'Elanna again as she stood up. "Thanks, love. You were just what I needed." B'Elanna brushed Siannon's lips softly with her own.
"Don't mention it. We're a team, remember."
"I remember. And Q better watch out." They left the sick bay together, arm in arm.
"How utterly *charming*. Just what I should expect from a Klingon woman, I suppose; feisty little wenches that they are." Q's disembodied voice echoed eerily round the deserted sick bay. "But
*Targ* feed? Eeuugh. She just has no sense of *style*." He popped into existence briefly. "You hear that B'Elanna Torres? You have no sense of style. And you're just as bad, Siannon O'Niall; at your age you should know better. Humph!" He tore off his communicator and in a fit of pique threw it at the door by which they had left. "Women!"
With that, he disappeared again.
Tom and Harry were already in the mess hall by the time Siannon and B'Elanna joined them, and they both noticed the faint signs of strain still apparent in her face.
"Siannon?" Two voices. One thought. She pulled out a chair, almost collapsing into it.
"Just give me a moment, please?" B'Elanna turned up with a cup of Jhatta, which Siannon gulped down gratefully, ignoring the searing heat as it burned her throat, and ignoring the tingle which followed as she healed. "Something really weird is going on," she rasped. The conversation that followed was only partly audible, and certainly would not have been understood by anyone listening casually, the fourfold link manifesting itself in every word and thought and gesture, magnified by their concern. Eventually they just sat, staring at each other.
"There aren't any easy answers to that one." Harry's dark eyes were still worried, but his curiosity was beginning to manifest itself.
"Are there ever?" B'Elanna shrugged.
"Not if it involves us, you can guarantee that..." There was a quick, shared smile before they decided to attack Neelix's culinary offering of the day.
Siannon was barely halfway through her meal when her com badge chirped at her.
"Doctor to Siannon?" She wearily tapped her badge in reply. What now?
"Siannon here."
"I would appreciate your help in sickbay right now, if you don't mind..."
"But..."
"I know you've been here all day, but... Well, something's... come up..." The Doctor sounded almost apologetic. Siannon sent a puzzled glance at the others which was returned with various shrugs.
"On my way. Siannon out." She clambered out of the chair. "Duty calls. You may as well stay here. So much for having a night to ourselves for a change..." A night where all four of them could just enjoy being together, with no interruption was a rarity. Siannon left the mess hall without a backward glance.
"We're not..."
"No... Shall we?"
"Okay." In unison, the three of them dumped their trays and followed Siannon out of the mess hall. They all knew where sickbay was, they may even be some help; at least that's what they told themselves.
Siannon was walking briskly down the corridor to sickbay, more than half aware that the others were following her, but not really paying much attention to them as she tried to focus her mind into a more professional manner. Something was teasing at her consciousness. Something half remembered, half familiar. Her steps slowed involuntarily as she drew closer to sickbay, and her inexplicable feeling of dread. Then it hit her; coursing through her body, sending fire down her nerves, shrieking at her with a voice unknown to mortal man. But not immortal.
There was another immortal on Voyager, and from the feel of it, one that had just recently revived. The sensation lent wings to her feet and she near flew through the doors to sickbay to be greeted by a sight she was *not* expecting.
There was a vaguely female shaped mud pile on the main bio-bed, hanging onto the side weakly as she heaved up glob after glob of dark, tenacious looking muck, streaming water into a pool on the floor. Even through the helpless and involuntary retching, the woman tried to turn her head to meet Siannon's stunned eyes.
Green eyes met blue for one defenceless, eternal moment of recognition; and all Siannon could think of was the empty place on her back where the comforting weight of her sword used to rest. Her unused sword, now in her quarters.
"Shit!! Just who the fuck are you?" She didn't realise she'd said it aloud until the Doctor frowned at her.
"I was hoping you could answer that. She's like you, I assume?"
"Yes... but..." At that moment Harry, Tom and B'Elanna barrelled through the door, running straight into Siannon. Unconsciously she reached for them all, mentally and physically, drawing their love and concern around her like a cloak. The sense of the other immortal reverberated curiously inside Siannon's head, but she was too shocked to register the phenomenon, and continued to stare, casting worried looks from the woman to the Doctor and back again. "How...?" The Doctor gestured helplessly.
"I don't know. She just...appeared. Dead. And then..."
"Then she revived..." Siannon took a step forward, gently disengaging herself physically from the others but not breaking their mental link. The choking, retching noises from the direction of the bio-bed had subsided somewhat, and the woman levered herself up into a sitting position, managing to wipe some of the mud from her face in the process, looking curiously regal despite the mud and water running off her. The blue gaze rendered Siannon immobile once more.
"My name is Marahet." The sound was barely above a whisper, but Siannon heard every raspy syllable. She silently regarded the other immortal for a moment; fear, loathing, anxiety and curiosity all warring with her concept of honour. Sweeping aside all thought of consequences, she took a step forward. Another. Never once did she tear her eyes away from that strangely compelling gaze. She wasn't entirely sure she could if she tried, there was something almost familiar about the otherworldly quality of that blue stare. Siannon stopped about three feet away from the bio-bed, ignoring everything except Marahet.
"I'm Siannon O'Niall. Welcome to the Starship Voyager, and the delta quadrant."
Marahet paused and looked around. The five thousand year old immortal had found herself in many strange situations in her long lifetime, but this one definitely won first prize. The last thing she remembered was being swept away by a torrent of rushing water, and the ensuing terror as she was pulled under for the last time. She regarded the immortal in front of her. A powerful, strong woman, and protective of the small tribe of three mortals that were gathered behind her. Marahet felt a strange kinship towards her... an energy that was warm and reassuring...//Stop that!// She chided herself; she couldn't afford to get lost in a psychic exploration of the other. She was in a strange place, facing a strange Immortal... and she had no sword... //Shit!// She scrambled off the bio-bed. Marahet turned her attention back to the here and now, and decided to start with a fairly simple question;
"Sorry.... Where?..."
"On the Starship Voyager. To be perfectly exact, you're in our sickbay. Best place for you at the moment, if I'm not mistaken. As for exactly *where* the best answer I can give you is somewhere in the delta quadrant, and on our way home. We've been travelling for a decade now..." Siannon broke off, distracted by the turmoil of her bond-mates' thoughts, and the faint hint of censure behind that turmoil.
Marahet had another look around her surroundings and noticed the technology for the first time.
"I know this is going to sound like a strange question but...what year is this?" Harry reeled off the Stardate without thinking, then paused.
"Why?" He sounded faintly accusatory. Marahet just looked confused.
"What?" She queried. Siannon took a closer look at what could be seen of Marahet's clothes beneath their coating of mud. They were definitely *not* twenty fourth century items.
"It's 2381," she murmured.
"2381?!" Marahet repeated incredulously. She was glad for the support of the bed behind her. This was turning out to be one hell of a day...
Siannon threw a quick look around sickbay. Everyone, including the Doctor was wearing the same stunned expression. //It's obviously up to me then...// She *knew* Q had to be involved
after his cryptic comments earlier in the day, with a certainty beyond all doubt; which meant there was one more person who really needed to know about this. With some reluctance, she summoned the Captain.
"Siannon to Captain Janeway. Could you come to sick bay immediately please? We seem to have a... problem..."
"A problem? Are the children all right?" Siannon heard Kathryn's unspoken worry, and tried to reassure her in as impersonal a fashion as possible.
"They're *all* fine. It's not that kind of problem, just something of a more... um... personal nature." Siannon could almost feel Kathryn's interest crackling through the com link.
"I'm on my way. Janeway out." Siannon returned her attention to Marahet, realising for the first time that she had to look up to meet her eyes. The look they shared said 'This is it' as loudly
as if the words had been spoken. Marahet cleared her throat carefully, aware that a hell of a lot was riding on the good opinion of these people.
"I don't suppose anybody would mind if I cleaned up a bit before anyone else arrives?" She lifted one mud-caked arm and glared at it disparagingly. She felt a faint ripple at the edges of her awareness, almost as if there was a conversation going on that she couldn't hear, and the next minute she was surrounded by people. The smallish, dark woman with the strange looking forehead tugged her lightly by the arm, smiling gently. Marahet almost didn't notice the faint tingle that the touch produced.
"This way. It's not far. I'm B'Elanna Torres, by the way. And this," she indicated the Asian man, who had appeared with an armful of blue cloth, "is Harry Kim." Tom and Siannon can run interference until we're back..."
"Tom?" Marahet queried. B'Elanna waved in the general direction of the other people in sickbay.
"Tom Paris. Don't worry, Marahet. We're a team." This was stated with a quiet, assured confidence that did much to lay Marahet's immediate fears to rest, but did nothing for her curiosity about
Siannon and the three mortals. With no further protests or queries she let herself be half dragged, half led, from the sickbay by B'Elanna, closely followed by a silent Harry Kim.
Marahet dazedly allowed herself to be led by her two helpful guides to what was obviously a waiting room. She glanced around curiously; still conscious of the muddy water she was dripping on the floor. Despite the decor and the high-tech gizmos, it still bore the same atmosphere as any waiting room she had ever seen; past and present.
"If you don't mind me asking, just why do you need a place like this when everybody lives on the ship?" Harry answered her with a warm smile, after sharing a strangely intense glance with
B'Elanna.
"Sometimes you just don't want to be that far from sickbay..." Marahet again felt that curious prickle at the back of her mind, and determined to resolve the enigma - some other time. Instead
she shrugged and agreed with them.
"The bathroom's through here," B'Elanna grabbed the pile of cloth from Harry which resolved itself into towels and pyjamas, all in the same regulation blue.
Author: Aeron Lanart
Genre: Highlander/Star Trek: Voyager crossover
Rating: PG-13 but does contain a references to a multiple relationship so if such things offend, don't read!
Warnings/Spoilers: AU for both Highlander and Voyager. No warnings/Spoilers otherwise.
Disclaimer: Trekstuff is owned by Paramount/Viacom. Highlander stuff is owned by Davis/Panzer productions
Marahet the immortal belongs to Alis, this is a companion piece to her story 'A Sense of Immortality'
Title from the song of the same name by A Wedding Anniversary.
OCC prompt = Trust
A/N: The characters do a fair bit of thinking in this. Thoughts are designated by //....//
All In A Week's Day
Q watched silently, unobserved, as the dark haired woman moved purposefully through the chattering flurry that was made up of more than a few of Voyager's children. As she waved the last of her young charges out of the sickbay, Q could not help but succumb to an invisible smile. Voyager had changed so much in the years it had been in the delta quadrant, the children were indicative of that, and yet he was still curiously fond of them all, or as fond as a Q could be. The woman he observed fascinated him in a different way. She was an enigma; out of place, possibly even out of time. Immortal. A veritable puzzle indeed, and Q *liked* puzzles.
Siannon had been unable to shake off the feeling that she was being watched. The tell-tale prickle between her shoulders had developed while she had been vaccinating a group of the Voyager children against the latest virus that *someone* had managed to pick up while on shore leave. By the time she was alone and clearing up after herself, she was feeling almost paranoid.
Turning to lean against the bulkhead, she cast her eyes around the expanse of sickbay. Nothing. The feeling of being watched didn't go away, if anything it got worse. She shook her head.
Crazy. She was going crazy, imagining things. Even so, she had to do *something*, no matter how strange it seemed.
"I may be going crazy, but I'd appreciate it if you could show yourself." She was quite pleased that her voice didn't betray any of her uncertainty.
Q grinned to himself. He could never resist an invitation, especially off an attractive woman. Time to oblige the lady, after all he didn't want to keep her waiting once she'd *asked*... He popped into existence with the usual ostentatious flash. Siannon stared at him, surprise being the most obvious expression on her face. Q smiled at her, gestured expansively.
"You called?" He intoned. She struggled to find her voice.
"Q!" Siannon felt less than pleased with her eloquence, or rather her lack of it, but Q had been the last entity she'd expected to see. She felt somewhat vindicated by the fact that she *had* been being watched, but was still curious as to why Q had reappeared, especially to *her*.
Q rubbed a sleeve over his Starfleet communicator, fingered the Captain's pips on his collar. It was long time since he had appeared like this, it was comforting, familiar. He raised his head to smile at Siannon.
"The very same." Siannon took a couple of steps forward, the surprise leaving her face to be replaced by suspicion.
"Just why are you here, Q?" Q tried his best to look innocent, and failed dismally.
"Why? Do I need a reason?" Siannon glared at him, not deigning to answer the question. Q shrugged. "You interest me, that's all." She snorted, her disbelief written all over her face, in every line of her body.
"Why do I have trouble believing that? Kathryn interests you, as does her child. Jean-Luc Picard *interests* you. But me?" Siannon began to turn away, shaking her head. Q scowled at her.
"You leave Jean-Luc out of this."
"You tell me what you *really* want." They stared at each other. Deadlock. Q relented first.
"I have. You're a puzzle. An anomaly. A fish out of water. *Interesting*."
"Oh?" Siannon's curiosity was piqued, despite her mistrust of the omnipotent being.
"I find you immortals fascinating, living cheek by jowl with humanity; part of it, and yet apart from it. Even you. Like I said, fascinating. Marooned out here, away from your own kind, where you *shouldn't* be. And yet...” There was a sudden lighting of his face as he looked at her. "I could change that you know, and send you back." He vaguely began to gesture, only to have his hand grabbed in Siannon's vice like grip as she yelled at him,
"Don't you frigging well dare, you overbearing piece of omnipotent horseshit!" It was Q's turn to be surprised as he stared into eyes that were almost spitting green fire. Nobody had ever spoken to him like that before. Siannon was furious. "My place is here. *Here*! I'm a wife, a mother, a lover. I live and work surrounded by my family and I'm happier than I've been in decades. Maybe even centuries. I have everything I've ever wanted right here on this ship, and you want me to go *back*? No way. No fucking way." Q tore his hand from her grasp, shaking it as if it pained him while he glared at her.
"You'll have to go back eventually, no matter what. I just thought you may like to go back while you've still got a chance of surviving, before you lose your skills completely." Siannon took a step back from Q, looking at him with more than a little apprehension.
"Lose my skills? What do you mean?" There was a flash, and before she could truly register just what was happening, Q had a sword at her neck, handling it expertly.
"This," he growled. The cold steel kissed the skin of her throat, a thin line of blood welling from beneath the sword as he moved round her. "*The Game* I think you call it. Just how long do you think you'd last now? Your reactions are slow, the speed that was your advantage has gone, and your instinct has all but disappeared in the years you've been out here. You're perilously close to losing that pretty head of yours, and what good would *that* do your family?" He stepped away from her, raising the sword from her neck before flinging it behind him to wink out of existence; staring at her as she rubbed uncomfortably at the thin red line on her neck. Siannon lowered her hand to look at her own blood on her fingers. So close. She sighed.
"Don't you think I know that? I keep hoping that we won't get home in this crew's lifetime, so I don't have to change again. If we do get home..." She raised concerned eyes to Q, shrugged. "I still have some friends back in the alpha quadrant." Q gave her an enigmatic smile.
"So you do. However, there is another way."
"Another way? What in the seven hells are you going on about?"
"Now that would be telling." He grinned at her and disappeared with a snap of his fingers and a flash of light, leaving her gaping at empty space.
"Great. Just fucking great. What in all the universe did I do to deserve *this*?" Siannon sank down onto the nearest biobed, head in hands, her thoughts in an absolute turmoil. "Why me? And why
*now*?"
Although there was no answer forthcoming, Siannon could almost hear ethereal laughter echoing through the silence. Q would be back, if only to tease some more with his enigmatic comments.
The silence was eventually broken by the swish of the doors opening as B'Elanna Torres rushed in. She made directly for the biobed, and the figure that was still huddled there.
"What happened? Something's shaken you up, I could feel you down in engineering and we all know how to shield better than that by now." She perched next to the still silent woman, waiting.
Siannon eventually looked up, giving B'Elanna a half hearted smile.
"Q." She stated baldly. B'Elanna frowned, crinkling up her forehead ridges.
"Q was here? What did he want?"
"Beats me. Said I was interesting, amongst other things." Siannon sighed. "I'd probably best show you, I'm not really sure I understand it myself." They reached for each others hands with
the ease of long familiarity; preparing themselves for the intense feelings that the sharing of thoughts, images and emotions still provoked, even though years had passed since they were soul-bound on Hesdaria. B'Elanna broke their handclasp first, almost exploding off the biobed.
"That... that... capricious, unscrupulous, omnipotent little *bastard*. I'd like to tear him apart and turn him into Targ feed. Personally." She took a deep breath, calming herself down a little. "Of course you can help if you want." She walked back over to the biobed and brushed her fingers along Siannon's neck, where smears of her blood were still visible. "At least you're all right."
"I'm fine now. I just wasn't exactly prepared for a visit from Q, or for how I'd react. You know, I think I may take you up on the offer of turning him into Targ feed. We'd have to invite Harry and Tom along though, or they'd be terribly offended at being left out of the fun."
"Good point. There’re only two problems that I can see." B'Elanna paused for effect, and Siannon obliged her with the requisite question.
"Which are?"
"We haven't got a Targ, and Q would probably make it sick even if we did." Siannon burst out laughing, meeting B'Elanna's grin with sparkling eyes.
"You're as bad as Harry. And Tom."
"Must be the company I keep. Are you ready to go now?"
"Yeah, I'm ready." Siannon reached out for B'Elanna again as she stood up. "Thanks, love. You were just what I needed." B'Elanna brushed Siannon's lips softly with her own.
"Don't mention it. We're a team, remember."
"I remember. And Q better watch out." They left the sick bay together, arm in arm.
"How utterly *charming*. Just what I should expect from a Klingon woman, I suppose; feisty little wenches that they are." Q's disembodied voice echoed eerily round the deserted sick bay. "But
*Targ* feed? Eeuugh. She just has no sense of *style*." He popped into existence briefly. "You hear that B'Elanna Torres? You have no sense of style. And you're just as bad, Siannon O'Niall; at your age you should know better. Humph!" He tore off his communicator and in a fit of pique threw it at the door by which they had left. "Women!"
With that, he disappeared again.
Tom and Harry were already in the mess hall by the time Siannon and B'Elanna joined them, and they both noticed the faint signs of strain still apparent in her face.
"Siannon?" Two voices. One thought. She pulled out a chair, almost collapsing into it.
"Just give me a moment, please?" B'Elanna turned up with a cup of Jhatta, which Siannon gulped down gratefully, ignoring the searing heat as it burned her throat, and ignoring the tingle which followed as she healed. "Something really weird is going on," she rasped. The conversation that followed was only partly audible, and certainly would not have been understood by anyone listening casually, the fourfold link manifesting itself in every word and thought and gesture, magnified by their concern. Eventually they just sat, staring at each other.
"There aren't any easy answers to that one." Harry's dark eyes were still worried, but his curiosity was beginning to manifest itself.
"Are there ever?" B'Elanna shrugged.
"Not if it involves us, you can guarantee that..." There was a quick, shared smile before they decided to attack Neelix's culinary offering of the day.
Siannon was barely halfway through her meal when her com badge chirped at her.
"Doctor to Siannon?" She wearily tapped her badge in reply. What now?
"Siannon here."
"I would appreciate your help in sickbay right now, if you don't mind..."
"But..."
"I know you've been here all day, but... Well, something's... come up..." The Doctor sounded almost apologetic. Siannon sent a puzzled glance at the others which was returned with various shrugs.
"On my way. Siannon out." She clambered out of the chair. "Duty calls. You may as well stay here. So much for having a night to ourselves for a change..." A night where all four of them could just enjoy being together, with no interruption was a rarity. Siannon left the mess hall without a backward glance.
"We're not..."
"No... Shall we?"
"Okay." In unison, the three of them dumped their trays and followed Siannon out of the mess hall. They all knew where sickbay was, they may even be some help; at least that's what they told themselves.
Siannon was walking briskly down the corridor to sickbay, more than half aware that the others were following her, but not really paying much attention to them as she tried to focus her mind into a more professional manner. Something was teasing at her consciousness. Something half remembered, half familiar. Her steps slowed involuntarily as she drew closer to sickbay, and her inexplicable feeling of dread. Then it hit her; coursing through her body, sending fire down her nerves, shrieking at her with a voice unknown to mortal man. But not immortal.
There was another immortal on Voyager, and from the feel of it, one that had just recently revived. The sensation lent wings to her feet and she near flew through the doors to sickbay to be greeted by a sight she was *not* expecting.
There was a vaguely female shaped mud pile on the main bio-bed, hanging onto the side weakly as she heaved up glob after glob of dark, tenacious looking muck, streaming water into a pool on the floor. Even through the helpless and involuntary retching, the woman tried to turn her head to meet Siannon's stunned eyes.
Green eyes met blue for one defenceless, eternal moment of recognition; and all Siannon could think of was the empty place on her back where the comforting weight of her sword used to rest. Her unused sword, now in her quarters.
"Shit!! Just who the fuck are you?" She didn't realise she'd said it aloud until the Doctor frowned at her.
"I was hoping you could answer that. She's like you, I assume?"
"Yes... but..." At that moment Harry, Tom and B'Elanna barrelled through the door, running straight into Siannon. Unconsciously she reached for them all, mentally and physically, drawing their love and concern around her like a cloak. The sense of the other immortal reverberated curiously inside Siannon's head, but she was too shocked to register the phenomenon, and continued to stare, casting worried looks from the woman to the Doctor and back again. "How...?" The Doctor gestured helplessly.
"I don't know. She just...appeared. Dead. And then..."
"Then she revived..." Siannon took a step forward, gently disengaging herself physically from the others but not breaking their mental link. The choking, retching noises from the direction of the bio-bed had subsided somewhat, and the woman levered herself up into a sitting position, managing to wipe some of the mud from her face in the process, looking curiously regal despite the mud and water running off her. The blue gaze rendered Siannon immobile once more.
"My name is Marahet." The sound was barely above a whisper, but Siannon heard every raspy syllable. She silently regarded the other immortal for a moment; fear, loathing, anxiety and curiosity all warring with her concept of honour. Sweeping aside all thought of consequences, she took a step forward. Another. Never once did she tear her eyes away from that strangely compelling gaze. She wasn't entirely sure she could if she tried, there was something almost familiar about the otherworldly quality of that blue stare. Siannon stopped about three feet away from the bio-bed, ignoring everything except Marahet.
"I'm Siannon O'Niall. Welcome to the Starship Voyager, and the delta quadrant."
Marahet paused and looked around. The five thousand year old immortal had found herself in many strange situations in her long lifetime, but this one definitely won first prize. The last thing she remembered was being swept away by a torrent of rushing water, and the ensuing terror as she was pulled under for the last time. She regarded the immortal in front of her. A powerful, strong woman, and protective of the small tribe of three mortals that were gathered behind her. Marahet felt a strange kinship towards her... an energy that was warm and reassuring...//Stop that!// She chided herself; she couldn't afford to get lost in a psychic exploration of the other. She was in a strange place, facing a strange Immortal... and she had no sword... //Shit!// She scrambled off the bio-bed. Marahet turned her attention back to the here and now, and decided to start with a fairly simple question;
"Sorry.... Where?..."
"On the Starship Voyager. To be perfectly exact, you're in our sickbay. Best place for you at the moment, if I'm not mistaken. As for exactly *where* the best answer I can give you is somewhere in the delta quadrant, and on our way home. We've been travelling for a decade now..." Siannon broke off, distracted by the turmoil of her bond-mates' thoughts, and the faint hint of censure behind that turmoil.
Marahet had another look around her surroundings and noticed the technology for the first time.
"I know this is going to sound like a strange question but...what year is this?" Harry reeled off the Stardate without thinking, then paused.
"Why?" He sounded faintly accusatory. Marahet just looked confused.
"What?" She queried. Siannon took a closer look at what could be seen of Marahet's clothes beneath their coating of mud. They were definitely *not* twenty fourth century items.
"It's 2381," she murmured.
"2381?!" Marahet repeated incredulously. She was glad for the support of the bed behind her. This was turning out to be one hell of a day...
Siannon threw a quick look around sickbay. Everyone, including the Doctor was wearing the same stunned expression. //It's obviously up to me then...// She *knew* Q had to be involved
after his cryptic comments earlier in the day, with a certainty beyond all doubt; which meant there was one more person who really needed to know about this. With some reluctance, she summoned the Captain.
"Siannon to Captain Janeway. Could you come to sick bay immediately please? We seem to have a... problem..."
"A problem? Are the children all right?" Siannon heard Kathryn's unspoken worry, and tried to reassure her in as impersonal a fashion as possible.
"They're *all* fine. It's not that kind of problem, just something of a more... um... personal nature." Siannon could almost feel Kathryn's interest crackling through the com link.
"I'm on my way. Janeway out." Siannon returned her attention to Marahet, realising for the first time that she had to look up to meet her eyes. The look they shared said 'This is it' as loudly
as if the words had been spoken. Marahet cleared her throat carefully, aware that a hell of a lot was riding on the good opinion of these people.
"I don't suppose anybody would mind if I cleaned up a bit before anyone else arrives?" She lifted one mud-caked arm and glared at it disparagingly. She felt a faint ripple at the edges of her awareness, almost as if there was a conversation going on that she couldn't hear, and the next minute she was surrounded by people. The smallish, dark woman with the strange looking forehead tugged her lightly by the arm, smiling gently. Marahet almost didn't notice the faint tingle that the touch produced.
"This way. It's not far. I'm B'Elanna Torres, by the way. And this," she indicated the Asian man, who had appeared with an armful of blue cloth, "is Harry Kim." Tom and Siannon can run interference until we're back..."
"Tom?" Marahet queried. B'Elanna waved in the general direction of the other people in sickbay.
"Tom Paris. Don't worry, Marahet. We're a team." This was stated with a quiet, assured confidence that did much to lay Marahet's immediate fears to rest, but did nothing for her curiosity about
Siannon and the three mortals. With no further protests or queries she let herself be half dragged, half led, from the sickbay by B'Elanna, closely followed by a silent Harry Kim.
Marahet dazedly allowed herself to be led by her two helpful guides to what was obviously a waiting room. She glanced around curiously; still conscious of the muddy water she was dripping on the floor. Despite the decor and the high-tech gizmos, it still bore the same atmosphere as any waiting room she had ever seen; past and present.
"If you don't mind me asking, just why do you need a place like this when everybody lives on the ship?" Harry answered her with a warm smile, after sharing a strangely intense glance with
B'Elanna.
"Sometimes you just don't want to be that far from sickbay..." Marahet again felt that curious prickle at the back of her mind, and determined to resolve the enigma - some other time. Instead
she shrugged and agreed with them.
"The bathroom's through here," B'Elanna grabbed the pile of cloth from Harry which resolved itself into towels and pyjamas, all in the same regulation blue.