(( Sickbay, Starbase 118 ))

::Quinn had a headache. More accurately, she had a hangover. Again.
Drinking with Pedro, drinking on her own, drinking with Walter... There had
been an awful lot of drinking in the past few days for the woman who had
been a teetotaler during the entirety of her last posting. Somewhere, in
the back of her mind, she recognised it as a bad thing; it wasn't a casual
bit of fun, or blowing off steam while she was on leave - the half-deltan
was doing it to blot out the thoughts that tended to intrude when her mind
wasn't occupied with something else.::

::Problem was, dealing with those intrusive thoughts was a lot more
difficult than waiting out a hangover.::

::Still, a headache was the last thing on her mind as she lounged against
the wall outside the NICU, arms wrapped defensively around her middle. She
was just stood, watching the tiny little person that was Hayden and Lily's
child. Her godson. She was already regretting saying yes, afraid of how
much Lily might want to lean on her while Hayden was away on the Antares.
And they were in Starfleet. People could and did die in the line of duty -
the act of making someone a godparent might be a polite pleasantry for a
civilian, but for a serving Starfleet officer, there was the very real
possibility that pleasantry could become a very real responsibility.::

::Letting out a sigh, she shook her head. Family was important, right? She
might happily jettison most of hers out of an airlock, but there were a few
- her father, Hayden - whom she wouldn't trade for the world. Even before
Lily had married Hayden, Quinn had started to think of her as something more
than a friend. Much like Tildaen, Lily was part of the family that Quinn
had picked, rather than being born into.::

::Not that she'd ever say as much. Nor did it stop Quinn from trying to
bottle everything up.::

ARIAS: Family is important.

::Startled, Quinn turned around at the sound of the male baritone and let
out a tired sigh upon seeing the Deltan couple stood there. Probably both
in their sixties, or seventies - but it was hard to tell. They had both
aged remarkably gracefully and had a vitality that Quinn felt she was
missing these days.::

REYNOLDS: The Niro's gone. Aren't you supposed to be on it?

INAIA: We were traveling to Deep Space Seventeen. ::The Deltan woman
glanced at her partner.:: Because that's where the Independence docks. We
were traveling there to meet you.

::Quinn narrowed her eyes, her gaze flicking between the two.::

REYNOLDS: We've had this conversation.

INAIA: I know, Quinn, but-

::She flinched, her face flushing. She didn't like either of the Deltans
using her name, she didn't like the fact they were on the station and she
really didn't like the fact that they had cornered her in sickbay.::

REYNOLDS: But nothing. I'm- ::She had been about to say she was sorry,
only she realised that she really wasn't.:: I don't want to know you. I'm
sure you're just lovely, but I don't want to know.

ARIAS: But how can you? You don't know who we are.

REYNOLDS: Why? Why now? Why not, oh I don't know, ten years ago? Twenty?

::The two exchanged glances again and Quinn shook her head, continuing on
before either had a chance to reply.::

REYNOLDS: Never mind. It's something else I don't want to know.

::Unfolding her arms, she ducked her head and darted past the pair,
determined to get out of their presence before the conversation could drag
on any more.::

INAIA: Quinn...

::Ignoring the woman who was apparently her grandmother, Quinn strode into
main sickbay, head held high, and even managed to make it into the main
corridor before breaking into the jog she had aching to do since hearing her
grandfather's voice.::


--
Lieutenant Quinn Reynolds
Intelligence Officer
Starbase 118 Ops


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