Work Text:
Third Date
”Morning, honey.”
Klak’s head bursts up out of her fishbowl, splashing half its contents on her girlfriend. “D? What time is it? And where’s your towel?”
D’Vana smirks. “Don’t need it this time. You like the wet t-shirt look?” She gestures to where the water‘s landed: across a baggy shirt emblazoned SCIENCE, BABE! with likenesses of Jadzia Dax and Seven of Nine. The shirt, all she’s wearing, doesn’t reach mid-thigh.
“And the time,” she continues, not waiting for Klak’s answer, ”is forty-five minutes before your shift and an hour before my chronotransit back to 2385. What to do until then?”
First Talk
“I’m sorry, what year?!”
“14,002.”
“And you’re… I’m… you’re a doctor at the best hospital in the galaxy?”
“Second best. One hospital gets better funding.”
“Funding? Like capitalism? 12,000 years from now?”
“... Yeeeah, I feel like your plane of existence is probably a little better than mine.”
“Well, it’s totally amazing to meet you, but I think we should figure out how to get back into our own bodies and timelines.”
“Yes, please. I feel weird without my fins.”
“But then later we should reverse-engineer the temporal displacement part of this accident and totally hang out!”
Second Crisis
They don’t say anything because they both know exactly what to do—and because they can’t spare the breath to talk. They rush down one last walkway of the abandoned starship and skid into the transporter room. Klak places the nearly emergent lifeform in its soon to be far too small specimen jar on the platform. Tendi runs one last scan with her tricorder before dashing to the control panel and beaming it into space. Then they both head to the nearest observation window to see the creature bloom into a glorious, iridescent baby nebula. Without a word, they link hands.
Best Night
D’Vana tries unsuccessfully, if less than half-heartedly, to free her hands from behind her. “Wow! What is this stuff again?”
Klak, identically bound, unmouths Tendi’s thigh to speak. “Static-charged anemone tentacles from Lacerta. They sell them after their generational shedding period—perfect fastening material for commercial and, um, domestic use.” She twists to gesture at a ridged ovoid object next to the bed. “Remember, when you’re done—for any reason—either of us can touch that to deactivate them for both of us. Are you comfortable?”
“Only as comfortable as I want to be,” D’Vana growls, arching to lick one of Klak’s gills.