Title: Now and Then

Series: TNG

Rating: PG

Codes: P/V

Summary: An ancient artifact reflects the timelessness of love.

As always: Paramount owns all the marbles, we just have a lot more fun playing with them. This story was written for the Trek BBS February 2011 monthly challenge Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing and posted to Trek BBS on February 18, 2011 and to ASC on February 19, 2011. This is a stand-alone piece and not a part of any of the Whoa Nellie timelines. This story references the second season episode "Contagion" and accepts all TNG canon through the movie "Generations" while adding Vash (from the TNG episodes 'Captain's Holiday' and 'Qpid') onboard the Enterprise E as the ship's chief archaeologist.

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Now and Then

"Captain's log, supplemental. The Enterprise E is in standard orbit around Pentheilea Prime. The Archaeology Council has diverted the Enterprise from its current assignment in order to have Council Member Vash verify the discovery of a possible Iconian gateway and control room in a recently excavated section of subterranean caves."

In Transporter Room Three, Vash finished placing her equipment on the transporter pad. "There's no point in sending down my team until I confirm what they've actually found. Right now all we've got is a large, subterranean chamber with a funky power source."

"I don't like sending you down there alone," Picard groused from behind the transporter console. He had dismissed the transporter chief on duty in favor of a final joust at the stubborn windmill preparing to transport into the caves.

"It's an old archaeology site on an uninhabited planet, Jean-Luc. There will be no one down there but me and you'll have a continuous transporter lock on me." She made one final check of the pockets in her khaki workshirt and pants.

"If anyone can find a way to get into trouble under those conditions, it's you."

Unable to resist, she shot him a playful wink. "I'm flattered."

"I can't believe that I agreed to this," his sigh carried the resignation of experience. "I must have been out of my mind."

"You agreed to this?" she laughed with a toss of her hair. Walking over to the console she leaned over it toward him. "It's an archaeology site making it the purview of the Archaeology Council and therefore my mission. You're just the chauffeur."

"Now, that hurt."

"A damned sexy chauffeur," she cooed, brushing her fingers along the strong line of his jaw. "Unclench your jaw, mon Capitaine. This is what I'm trained to do. I'll be fine."

Making his way around the console, he stopped her before she could climb on the transporter pad. "Just be careful. The last time I came across an Iconian gateway it destroyed one starship and crippled the Enterprise D as well as a Romulan vessel."

"I've read your report and so has the council which is why my orders were to keep personnel and technology as limited as possible until I could ascertain and secure what was deeper in the caves. Forgive me, but you don't have the best track record on archaeological wonders."

Not really wanting a review of his litany of archaeological sins, he ignored that last bit. Reaching out with one hand to comb his fingers through her brunette tresses, his tone became low and earnest, "Vash please, listen to me. There's a large ion storm moving this way that could affect tachyon levels and play havoc with any alien power sources down there."

"That sounds like personal experience talking."

"The Iconians have held a fascination for me since my academy days. Before Captain Varley determined the actual location of Iconia deep in the Romulan Neutral Zone, this site was known for some of the more tantalizing artifacts dealing with the existence of Iconia. I visited here back in 2353, while commanding the Stargazer. An unusually large ion storm hit and the cave I was exploring was struck by an energy wave. I was knocked unconscious and the next thing I remember is waking up, dazed but unharmed, several hours later in the Stargazer's Sickbay. If there is a gateway down there I was probably standing right on top of the damn thing," the last part of his account was slightly grumbled.

She traced leisurely circles around the rank pips on the collar of his burgundy uniform tunic with a fingertip and teased, "So this gallantly heroic and protective husband routine is tinged with just a trace of professional jealousy."

"Of course not." At the amused, knowing glint in her eyes, he gave a small, self-deprecating smile and confessed, "All right, maybe just a trace."

"I'll be home for dinner. We can discuss a certain starship captain's access to archaeological treasures then," she bantered saucily.

He pulled her to him, his arms encircling her tiny waist. "Promise me you will try and stay out of trouble."

"I always try, " she purred the expected retort. He lowered his face to hers and her eyes fluttered shut. His lips were firm but pliant, taking command of hers in a slow, deeply impassioned kiss. She melted against him allowing herself to briefly succumb to the clean masculine scent of his aftershave and the tender warmth of his embrace. Reluctantly, she drew back breaking off the kiss. "Je t' aime."

""Je t' aime."

………………………………….

"Hot damn!" Vash crowed to herself when the door she had been arguing with finally slid open. She moved all of her equipment into the room before tapping the small communicator in her shirt pocket, "Picard to Enterprise."

"Enterprise here. Have you found something, Professor?"

She smiled at the sound of Jean-Luc's strident command tone coming over the communicator. She knelt down beside her backpack, opening it up as she surveyed the room. In the middle of the room was a large, circular control console with Iconian markings. There was a pole protruding up from the center of that console and at the top of that pole was a massive, transparent sphere encasing a smaller blue sphere. All around the perimeter of the chamber were large diamond-shaped panels. She knew that her next words would make the legendary starship captain giddier than a schoolboy. "The interior chamber matches the description of the gateway control room in your report perfectly. Assuming this isn't someone's idea of a practical joke, Captain, it seems fate has given you a second chance to study an Iconian gateway, only the third ever found. On behalf of the archaeology council, I only ask that you try to refrain from blowing this one up."

"I always try," was his wry response.

"Well, before anyone else beams down I want to try to have a basic working translation so we know what buttons to not push. I think doing this the old fashion way with pencil and paper rather than tricorders and androids would be safer." Vash rooted around in her backpack, pulling out notebooks and a pencil. Knowing that Jean-Luc would have his senior officers at their posts on the bridge in case of any emergency, she added, "No offense, Commander Data."

"None taken, Professor Picard. Recalling the ill effects of the Iconian virus that I experienced previously, your careful prudence is appreciated," Data remarked.

Skimming through one of the notebooks looking for the Dewan translations, Vash couldn't help herself. "My careful prudence is appreciated? Oh please, someone note that in their log."

"Done." Will Riker sounded quite amused.

Once she found the Dewan translations, she turned a second notebook to Iccobar translations and a third to Dinaasian, laying them out on a blank section of the control panel. Taking a fourth notebook, she pulled an antique tape measure from one of her pockets and began the painstaking process of measuring the room for a detailed sketch. Once she had completed a drawing of the chamber, she set to work deciphering the markings on the control console itself. She was completely enthralled, each piece of the puzzle compelling her to unravel the next in hopes of revealing the mysteries hidden by a long dead language. Completely engrossed in her work, she wasn't aware of time passing. Much later, she was startled by Jean-Luc's voice coming from her communicator.

"Vash, that ion storm is nearly here, its path will cause the entire planet to be enveloped and we're picking up a dramatic rise in tachyons. We won't be able to safely use the transporters until it dissipates. Data is estimating an hour for the ion storm to pass and possibly up to three hours for the tachyon levels to normalize."

"Understood. Relax, Jean-Luc. I've got plenty of provisions and even more work to keep me busy. I'll be fine." Still holding the notebook, she straightened her back and stretched. Idly she wondered how long she had been bent over the translations. It was a very complex language and she had just barely scratched the surface. She realized that Jean-Luc had not responded. "Jean-Luc . . . Enterprise?"

There was no response, just static. Realizing that communication was probably being affected by the ion storm, she returned to her work. Before she'd even found where she'd left off in the translation, an energy bolt travel down the console's center pole and into the spheres. Bolts of energy shot from the spheres in every direction. She felt an incredible force throw her backward just before she heard the sickening thud of her own body hitting the wall. Everything went black.

…………….

He knelt down next to the unconscious woman and checked her pulse, relieved to find it was steady and strong. Whoever she was, she was quite lovely. Shoulder length brunette hair framed her beautiful features highlighted by delicate cheekbones and rose-petal lips. If the notebook still clutched in her hand was any indication, she was much more skilled at linguistics than he could ever hope to be. She began to stir and he placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her still. "Easy, it appears you've taken quite a blow. I'm Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Stargazer."

"Jean-Luc," Vash murmured hearing her husband's voice. With what felt like an inordinate effort, she forced herself to open her eyes.

"That's right, Jean-Luc Picard. I am the captain of the Federation Starship Stargazer," he repeated while helping her into a sitting position. Once her gaze focused on him, he noticed her vividly blue eyes. He held up a single index finger and slowly moved it from right to left and back again in front of her face to see if she could track it. "We'll need to watch you for any signs of a concussion."

It was Jean-Luc, a few decades younger and with hair. It was thinning but he definitely had hair. Wearing an older-style, one-piece uniform in command burgundy, he appeared just as she had seen him in countless images from his time as captain of the Stargazer. Putting her face in her hands, she muttered, "oh my God."

"I woke with quite a headache as well," he offered sympathetically.

"The pounding in my head is the least of my concerns at the moment." Vash's mind raced with the possibilities. "Captain, what year this is?"

"It's 2353," he replied sounding slightly mystified by the question.

"And what's the last thing you remember?" she asked. If correct, she would have to be very careful or risk losing everything that mattered to her. It was going to be difficult balancing what she needed to tell him with what she needed to keep from him to protect the time line. Jean-Luc had told her he had no memory of what happened on the planet after the energy wave hit. Hopefully, there was a way to put things back on track.

"After visiting the excavated site, I was doing some spelunking. Some kind of energy wave hit, throwing me across the cave I was in and when I came to, I found myself in here unable to contact my ship. I noticed you laying here, unconscious, a short distance away from me in front of that." He pointed to the control console in the middle of the room.

Vash couldn't believe she was asking herself this, but what would Jean-Luc do? "You should go over to that corner over there, sit down and not talk."

Picard laughed. "I am a Starfleet officer, a captain, young lady. I answered your question, now I think you need to answer mine. What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. What were you doing just before you lost consciousness?"

"Just before I lost contact with my ship and the energy wave hit, there was an ion storm and they detected a rise in tachyon emissions," she informed him tersely. She hadn't really expected him to blindly follow her instructions, but it had been worth a try. Even the slightest change in the timeline might erase their first meeting on Risa and she'd return to a time when Jean-Luc had never even known her.

He sat back on his heels. "Given your question about the year, are you suggesting there's been some sort of temporal distortion?"

"Since the date you gave me is off – by several decades, I'd say that is a distinct probability."

"Could it be related to whatever you were doing with that?" He stood up and pointed again toward the console.

She began to laugh in spite of the situation. "That's just too funny, seeing as it's you Fleetboys who have a reputation for pushing buttons before fully understanding what they do."

"I'll assume from that remark that you're an archaeologist and a member of the Archaeology Council?" He surmised good-naturedly while reaching out to help her up.

"Archaeology Council Member Vash P--, I was sent here by the council to study these ruins which were uncovered several decades after your visit." She barely managed to cut herself off before her full name slipped out from force of habit. Taking his hand, she allowed him to pull her to her feet. It seemed odd to be introducing herself to her own husband. For several long heartbeats, he held her hand in his, his eyes studying her intensely. Her breath caught in her throat and her cheeks flushed slightly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he murmured softly. Letting go of her hand, he made his way over to the large console in the middle of the room. He pointed to each of the notebooks she had laid out, "Dewan, Iccobar, and Dinaasian; branch languages that you're using in an effort to reconstruct the common root language?"

"Very good, Mr. Picard. You make take your place at the front of the class." She tilted her head with a coy smile.

"So this is Iconian?" Seeing her nod, he continued almost in awe, "Demons of Air and Darkness."

"That is a rather poetic reference for what you're looking at, which is an Iconian Gateway. It is an instant teleportation device that allowed the Iconians to establish outposts as far out as the Gamma quadrant. But now I'm wondering if they also had temporal abilities." She stepped up next to him, enjoying the sense of wonder in his expression.

"The Gamma quadrant?" he marveled. Mentally shaking himself, he turned back to her. "My equipment must be back in the cave. Do you have a tricorder?"

"Over there on top of my bedroll but don't scan the center console with it. In fact, keep it as far away as possible from the center console. Iconian technology isn't known for working well with our own."

"There's enough provisions here for at least a week," he noted with approval as he snagged the tricorder.

"Two weeks, actually. I was only planning to be down here for a few hours but I was made well aware of the ion storms while I was packing," she said. Gazing up at the ceiling she added, "man plans and God laughs."

Picard scanned the perimeter of the chamber with the tricorder. "You're right about tachyon emissions. I've never seen anything like this. They're off the scale. Considering neither of us can establish communication with anyone outside, we could be in some sort of temporal flux."

"Meaning we're in neither my time nor yours."

"Exactly." He gestured toward the notebook she was holding. "I take it linguistics is a specialty of yours."

"One of them," she admitted nonchalantly with a shrug of her shoulders. "Once we have a working translation, we may be able to use the device to get back to when we belong."

"Although I appreciate your dedication to the traditional approach, we'll use the tricorder to link to the console. . ." he broke off when she set her notebook down and closed the distance between them.

She stood toe to toe with him. "What part of 'don't scan the center console with my tricorder' don't you understand? If it's a language problem, I can say it in quite a few others, just tell me which one you will understand it in."

"Let's get something straight," he said. "I am in command here, you are a civilian. We'll do this my way."

"Oh really? Is that an order, Captain?"

He was beginning to realize there was more to this woman than met the eye. One moment she was coquettish and sweet, the next moment she was full of bravado. "Yes."

"This isn't a starship, Jean-Luc and I don't follow orders." Even as she said the familiar words she wondered how often across time and space they'd had this conversation.

"I understand this is an archaeology site and you're the archaeologist here; however, time is of the essence . . ."

Taking the tricorder out of his hands, she shut it off and set it back down on the bedroll. "If you don't let me do this my way, we'll have all the time in the world to argue about it. I say that we have to do this the traditional way, no shortcuts. I told you that Iconian technology isn't compatible with ours. The Iconians incorporated a weapon into their technology, a virus that attacks alien technology and rewrites the software. It does very bad things to technologically advanced tools, like starships. That is my tricorder and it may not be an archaeological wonder, but I still don't want you blowing it up."

The fire in her eyes would have been enchanting if the woman herself wasn't insufferable. Somebody needed to give her a good spanking. She did seem to be knowledgeable, however. "That would be why you're doing everything on paper."

"That would also be why I told you to go sit in a corner and let me deal with this," she gritted out through clenched teeth. "I know what I'm doing here, you don't and you can't know anything that's occurred outside of this room over the past few decades. Once I have a working translation, it'll be a simple matter of bypassing the security protocols and then I can put you back when you came from."

"A simple matter of bypassing the security protocols," he echoed.

Enjoying the way he blanched slightly at that, she baited him shamelessly, "using two of my other specialties, sneakiness and lock-picking."

"I see," he commented wryly. He noticed the tape measure on the console. Picking it up, he studied the antique and noticed the inscription. "'That a girl. Sam.' A token of affection from an admirer?"

"Not at all. When I received my second doctorate it was a gift from a mentor and colleague who taught me the importance of being able to do things as he liked to call it 'old school.'" She moved in closer, giving him just a hint of a smile. In her finest sultry tone, she advised, "As a Frenchman you should know anything from a paramour should incorporate precious stones."

"Should these precious stones be diamonds or pearls?" he parried, her flirtatiousness infectious.

For a long moment, she held his gaze with hers. With a toss of her hair, she turned on her heel and headed for her backpack. "Both." Vash knew she should be careful, that she was playing with fire. From the moment they met on Risa, there had been a powerful sexual attraction between them that was only intensified by the verbal fencing they always seemed to fall into. Determined to refocus on the task at hand, she pulled out another small notebook. "You are right about one thing, time is of the essence here. However, if we try to activate the gateway without understanding what we're doing, really, really bad things could happen."

"What can I do to help?" He took the notebook she offered to him. Over the next several hours, he took notes as she deciphered the complex symbols, pointing out to him how she arrived at her conclusions. If he'd had her as an archaeology professor back in school, his life might well have taken an entirely different course.

"This section of the text deals with the protective temporal field surrounding the chamber. My guess is that over time the ion storms in this system caused a charge to build up which in turn activated the temporal components. It will take translating a few more sections, but we should be able to determine how to set specific temporal coordinates and shut the field down afterward. Since you were in a neighboring section of these caves, as long as you don't touch the setting for the physical coordinates, it should default to . . . " All of a sudden, the symbols in front of her seemed to start moving. Vash blinked, shaking her head to clear it only to swoon as her knees buckled under her. He was there instantly, sweeping her up into his arms. She was startled by the familiarity of the scent of his aftershave. Just how long had he worn the same aftershave? He carried her over to where she had placed her equipment and gently sat her down. "I'm fine, just a little dizzy. We need to finish translating . . ."

"I'm assuming that's a royal 'we' since you've been doing all of the translating thus far and 'we' won't get much further until 'we' take care of the concussion that you seem to have." He opened her first-aid kit and pulled out a basic medical tricorder. With his suspicions confirmed, he searched in the kit until he found just what he needed. "This should do it. Lucky for you, I've had my share of minor concussions."

"Let me guess, I should have seen the condition you left the Nausicaan in," she gently teased him.

"Live and learn. I always try to avoid trouble, especially with Nausicaans, but I've suffered a lot more than a concussion when I've failed," he admitted. Only after he bandied his answer back did he wonder at her choice of Nausicaan. His eyes narrowed, studying her expression for any hint of familiarity. It could have been a random turn of phrase, but under the circumstances . . .

She involuntarily glanced at his chest where his artificial heart was, realizing her mistake and trying to brush it aside, hoping he would let it pass without comment. "Thank you, Jean-Luc. I feel much better."

"You're welcome, Vash." Brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his voice was a deep, resonating whisper, "Your name suits you."

"My name?" she inquired, distracted by that familiar bedroom baritone that always seemed to set butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

"Vash is obviously a version of Vashti, a Persian name meaning beauty," he illustrated his point by trailing a finger along her smooth cheek.

"I'm flattered and impressed. Most people don't recognize the reference," her voice was softly coquettish.

Telling himself that he was simply testing a theory based on her responses to him, he leaned in and captured her lips with his in a series of tentative kisses, his lips lightly teasing hers. Finally, his mouth settled over her full, lush lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His pulse sped up at the sound of her quiet sigh of surrender in unison with her arms coming up to encircle his neck. When he covered her body with his own, she melted against him, perfectly yielding to his every movement. Breaking the kiss, Picard pulled back and looked down at her. "That's not the first time you've been kissed by me. It's not the first time at all, is it?"

"What makes you think that?"

"The kiss," he said. "Your response to my kiss was too intuitive, too perfect; that sort of familiarity takes time." He tenderly cupped her chin, keeping her gaze locked with his. "Not to mention that reference to Nausicaans and your less-than-subtle glance at my heart a moment ago. You and I are more than a little acquainted. Just who are you?"

"Don't ask me questions that you don't want the answer to, Jean-Luc."

He was playing with fire. Starfleet captains were married to their ships so he didn't really know why it was so important to know more about this woman. It just was. Temporal paradoxes be damned. "Tell me."

With a sigh, she silently nodded her acquiescence and he released his hold on her. Leaning past him, she opened a small, almost unnoticeable compartment in her backpack. She handed him a heart-shaped locket. Set with a half-carat diamond in the center, the elegant locket and its chain were crafted from the finest gold-pressed latinum.

"Diamond," his voice held a hint of amusement. His eyes went wide when he turned the piece over in his hand and read the inscription. "Je t' aime, J.L."

"It's a holographic locket." She reached over to open the locket and activate it.

His artificial heart nearly short-circuited. The formal portrait that appeared captured how resplendent she had been in her bridal gown of ivory satin overlaid with lace and completely covered with sequins and seed pearls. A tiara of pearls and Austrian crystals held a veil, which settled like a soft mist over her dark hair, perfectly framing her delicate features and vivid blue eyes. She wore a serene smile on her lush, rose-petal lips. In the portrait she looked like a queen, each sequin and crystal making her shimmer from head to toe. He stood next to her in what appeared to be some type of Starfleet dress uniform, older and completely bald.

"I am Archaeology Council Member Vash Picard, wife of Federation Starship Captain Jean-Luc Picard." She omitted the name of his current vessel.

"You were a beautiful bride, Madame Picard," he marveled glancing over at her. He returned his attention to the hologram and self-consciously ran his free hand over his head, "and I'm bald."

"In full dress uniform with all those ribbons on your chest, you look like Prince Valiant himself. And, you have excellent taste." Seeing the look he shot her, she clarified, "I was referring to the locket."

"Of course you were." Deactivating the hologram, he closed the locket and leaned over to fasten the chain around her neck.

Moved by the gesture, Vash reached up to run her fingers through his hair. The action elicited a low groan from the back of his throat and his mouth descended on hers in a voracious kiss. Stealing between her parted lips, his tongue plundered the depths of her mouth searching for and finding hers. She matched his hunger, her tongue eagerly meeting the demands of his. Breaking off the kiss, she swallowed, trying to regain her composure. "Maybe I'm not as up on temporal laws as I should be but can you commit adultery with your own spouse?"

"No, but this is probably a bad idea for a lot of other reasons," he rasped, although he didn't immediately pull away.

"I just . . ."

"Found running your fingers through your husband's hair too much of a novelty to pass up?" he joked ruefully.

"You do have hair. I run my fingers through the hair at your temples all the time." Her actions instinctively mimicked her words. It was the desire still in his eyes that caused her to pull her hand away.

"So telling me to shut up and sit down was your way of trying to protect the timeline when you're probably used to talking things out with me, telling me everything," he deduced, trying to get back to solving the problem at hand. Taking notice of the way she innocently studied the ceiling, he guessed somewhat dryly, "You don't tell me everything, do you?"

"A smart woman always maintains a little mystery, Jean-Luc. It provides allure and encourages the man to chase after her," she replied, completely unabashed.

He stood up and helped her to her feet. "From the moment I saw you I knew you were going to be trouble."

"You look like a man who can handle trouble." she gushed, feigning a breathless naiveté while drawing lazy circles around his rank pips with her index finger.

He captured her hand in his to still her teasing. The natural ease at which she fell into playful repartee prompted him to ask, "I take it this is something we do?"

"There is nothing sexier than wordplay," she noted.

"The playing field isn't exactly level. Madame has me at a disadvantage."

Turning on her heel, she swished her hips playfully. "And I intend to keep Monsieur at a disadvantage in the past, present and future. That arrangement works for me."

It took just over an hour with only a brief pause when he insisted that she eat an energy bar from the supplies in her pack. Finishing the last bit of translation, she looked over at him with a satisfied expression. "With this last bit of text, we can set the temporal coordinates to put you back when you belong."

"As close as possible to the exact time and place where the anomaly occurred," he said.

Vash put her hands on her hips and thrust her bottom lip out in a mock pout. "Really? Because there was this one particular vacation we took that I'd really like to do over. We could just re-live a few of the more memorable moments of our lives with this little toy. Seriously, Jean-Luc, did I truly need that update from the department of the obvious? Of course you need to go back to when the anomaly occurred, I was looking for a slightly more specific answer."

"How on earth did we end up getting married? We can barely get along."

"We don't get along," she retorted. "We've never gotten along and yet for some reason you keep chasing after me, even storming castles to rescue me. You'll see. Right now, if you would be so kind as to input the temporal coordinates here, I'll open a portal to send you back to your time just before the energy wave hits. Of course that does mean you'll end up with a nasty bump on your head."

"It's the only way to make sure I have no memory of this and protect the timeline." Reaching out, he combed his fingers through her hair. "It's you I'm concerned about. The last time the energy wave hit, it left you with a concussion."

Vash snorted. "I'm not going to do any time traveling. From my translation, it looks like if I simply shut the temporal field off, I'll be back in my own time plus these delightful hours spent with you. By then the future you will have discovered that the transporter lock you insisted on maintaining on me is gone and my rescue will be waiting for me."

"You just agreed that it would be best to return as close as possible to the exact time and place that this anomaly occurred," he argued, dropping his hand from her hair as exasperation crept into his voice.

"No," she gave the word a full four syllables to convey the true no-ness of her answer. "I said it would be best for you to return as close as possible to the exact time and place of the anomaly. I'm not the one exposed to future events that could damage the timeline."

He reached up to rub the bridge of his nose and then entered the time index as closely as he could estimate to when the energy wave hit him. "It doesn't matter what I say, does it? You'll simply bat those huge, doe eyes at me and do precisely whatever it was you wanted to do in the first place."

"It's too bad you won't remember that because that little insight would save you a great deal of frustration in the future, Johnny," she replied blithely. Just as she reached to activate the control that would open the portal, he stopped her. He cupped her face with his hands, his thumbs resting against the base of her chin tilting her face up to his.

"In the future, I'm a very lucky man," he whispered before claiming her lips in an ardent goodbye kiss. Breaking the kiss, he nodded and she opened the portal. He walked across the room and through the doorway, never looking back.

Vash winced seeing him thrown like a rag doll across the cave by the energy wave before she closed the portal. Praying that she would find her husband waiting for her, she shut down the temporal field surrounding the chamber. She closed her eyes as she pushed the button, steeling herself for whatever waited for her back in her own time. Sounds in the room told her that she was back to when she belonged, opening her eyes she saw Jean–Luc wearing the newer version of Starfleet's uniform, mostly black with grey shoulders and a burgundy tunic briskly crossing the room toward her. With the exception of the closely-trimmed, grey hair at his temples, he was bald.

"Vash," Picard sighed with relief at seeing his wife appear standing at the Iconian control console seemingly unhurt.

"Jean-Luc, long time, no see."

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