Kid gracious kid

your eyes are blue but you won't cry
I know angry tears are too dear
you won't let them go

-- Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders (Kid)

=/\=

Marisol couldn't be found, either.

They were in her office, "I missed you," he said, as he nibbled on her neck.

She chuckled, "What happened while I was out?"

"Oh, not much. There was a slight incident in the cafeteria. One of the Vulcan women almost choked on an almond. I performed the Heimlich Maneuver – an oldie but a goodie."

"Mouth to mouth?" she asked, pouting a little.

"No, no, it's like this, Darling," he got behind her and placed his hands below her breasts, then brought his hands together and pushed down on her ribcage a little sharply. Then he bit a little on her earlobe and grabbed at her breasts.

"Is the finish a part of the treatment?"

"No, Sweetheart. Didn't you study it at Europa Medical School?"

"I must've been out that day."

"You know," he said, "until the timeline is restored, I am a single man."

"I see."

"It seems such a pity to restore that piece of the timeline. She could be happy with James the eighteenth or whatever number he was."

"Twelfth. And that photograph wasn't exactly of a happy woman. She wasn't even smiling a little."

"My angel, that is how she smiles," he then answered his implanted Communicator, "Yes, of course, Deirdre. I'll be back in a moment. Yarin out."

"Back to checking news broadcasts," he said, "When I would much rather be with you."

"It's more fun than my monitoring."

"Most definitely. And, if I were still not married, you and I could get married, move into my house, chase each other all day long."

"I wouldn't want to live on Kronos."

"Then we'd get a bigger place on Cardassia," he said, "Trade up from the love nest I got you."

"Hmmm."

"We could get a place with a pool," he said. His implanted Communicator chimed again. He sighed, "News broadcasts for me. And monitoring awaits you."

=/\=

Deirdre stared at her PADD a few times. The second paragraph was getting closer. So far, this is what she had:

______ ____ slaughtered ____ _____ __ the ________. Suffering has ____ _______ __ _________ _________. Pain, disease, poverty and starvation ____ all ____ _____ __ ___ ____. War has ____ the ___________ _____, ______ ____ _ ____ _____ ____ _________ ____ the _________.

There were three two-letter words. She guessed by and that worked for all of them. A one-letter word was a. And so the paragraph was improved, to:

______ ____ slaughtered ____ _____ by the ________. Suffering has ____ _______ by _________ _________. Pain, disease, poverty and starvation ____ all ____ _____ by ___ ____. War has ____ the ___________ _____, ______ ____ a ____ _____ ____ _________ ____ the _________.

And now she was stuck.

Boris walked in, looking a bit red in the face, "What do you think of this?" she asked, showing him the PADD.

He knew what she was asking about, "Huh. You have several four-letter words. Have you tried, let's see, done, have, made, been, seen, wars, and, um, maybe PADD?"

"Okay," she said, "And, so far, the news is about the same. Apparently there's a new opera, called Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra. It's sung in Klingon and stars, uh, HD Avery."

"Interesting. Perhaps I can take my wife to a performance. When she, uh, becomes my wife again."

"Assuming there is such an opera once the timeline's restored," Deirdre went back to clicking, "Ah, it looks like been was a good choice. You're pretty good at this."

"Thank you. Now, let's see if there are any changes yet."

=/\=

Back in 2026, Carmen was waiting for her uniform to be spat out by the replicator. She was thinking about HD Avery a bit, too, but in the context of hiring him to travel in time, not for Klingon opera. She shook her head involuntarily. She didn't want to admit that she needed him, but he just didn't seem like someone who she could trust with a time ship. Grant, sure. Daniels, of course. Bernstein, probably. Castillo, most likely. But Avery? No. He'd have to take time portals, or hitch a ride with one of the others, at least until he'd proven he was reliable. As for building more ships, it was possible, to be sure. But Grant would get Jack, Daniels would keep the Wells, Bernstein would get Fluxy and Castillo would get the Audrey II once she was completed. As for any future ships, well, that would await whoever she hired after Avery.

"Something wrong?" Tom drawled.

"Oh, uh, no, just thinking ahead to after we're done. Music looks like it's getting important, so I'll be hiring the music guy, Avery."

"Aha. Would there be any need for another soldier, or at least someone who could fake it well?"

"I don't know. There's Beauchaine, the survivalist. He's a friend of yours, right?"

"We know each other from playing phaseball. He could do it but he's a little slow with running."

"Good to know. Ah, I see my uni is ready. It's looking good and ratty. And an aroma, too! How thoughtful," she cringed and went into another room to put it on.

"What's the plan?"

"Find your earlier self and Kevin, and do the Temporal Integration first. Then, I suppose, we'll go into the rally. I'll switch places with Benson. If I have to start bawling, too, well, I suppose I will, although I'm not much for crying on demand."

"I'm sure you can do some method acting or something, like thinking of some sad event in your life."

"I suppose I'll come up with something."

=/\=

HD Avery, in the original timeline, had just, finally, restored his reputation after almost being kicked out of the Hyperion Academy for the Performing Arts. It wasn't for cheating, for he was a prodigy, more than capable of doing any of the school's work, on piano, guitar, voice and even percussion.

It was that he'd gotten bored and unchallenged, and so he'd stopped attending classes. He had nearly failed out, but had saved himself by simply accelerating his studies. With four times as much work, he didn't have time for the luxury of being bored, so he just barreled through and finished up, graduating summa cum laude despite his earlier academic issues.

It was the boredom of sameness that had drawn him to interview at the Temporal Integrity Commission. He could write and play and sing, but things were easier in 3109, what with perfectly tuned and tempered instruments. Anyone could obtain the equivalent of a Stradivarius, as there was a factory on Iapetus that cranked them out by the dozen.

So he wanted to be elsewhere, in a place and time when perfection wasn't quite so guaranteed. He wanted to – and he wasn't so sure he went along with the idea of not introducing any anachronisms whatsoever – give people an auditory experience they had never had before. If he had met Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and the Big Bopper in 1959 – like Rick had – he would have talked shop with them. If he had met Chrissie Hynde in 1970 – like Sheilagh had – he would have tried to sing a duet with her.

For that was where he saw himself as fitting in the best – in the past. The present time, for him, was too lovely and ideal, and the people seemed to reflect that, particularly the women. Of course he was young – he had just recently turned twenty-one – but he had enough frustrations in that area already to figure that something had to give.

Perhaps a new hunting ground would better suit him.

But in this alternate timeline, he was not a student at all, but a show biz drone, pushed into the business by over-eager stage parents. And the pinnacle of his success was the starring role in the new Klingon opera. Beverly and Hank Avery were justifiably proud of their little darling, but were already planning his next triumph. Perhaps he would perform for Emperor James XII and Empress Consort Darragh?

Then the real money would begin to flow in.

=/\=

Such a drag to want something sometime
One thing leads to another I know
Was a time wanted you for mine
Nobody knew
You arrived like a day
And passed like a cloud
I made a wish, I said it out loud
Out loud in a crowd
Everybody heard
'twas the talk of the town

-- Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders (Talk of the Town)