Part 1

"Guests?" Nathan Bridger repeated as he stared at the image of Bill Noyce projected on the wardroom video screen. "We really don’t have time to deal with guests." His crew had been working straight through for weeks and were finally scheduled for a little, much-needed downtime. The last thing they needed was to play politics instead.

"It will be good P.R. for the U.E.O.," Noyce explained needlessly.

"Bill---" Nathan started to complain, but Noyce cut him off.

"Admiral Andrew Westphalen is a bona fide hero, Nathan," Noyce reminded his old friend. "His tour of the seaQuest is a wonderful opportunity for some positive press."

"And a pain in the—"

"Nathan," Noyce cut him off. "The admiral still has a great deal of influence with the powers that be in the British government and their support for our mission is imperative."

Bridger sighed as he surrendered to fate. So much for any fantasies of a few days topside. "Right," he exhaled.

"It’s also an opportunity for the admiral to spend some time with Doctor Westphalen. Apparently it’s been some time since the admiral’s had a chance to see his daughter." Noyce added.

"His daughter?" Nathan questioned, clearly caught by surprise.

"Don’t tell me you didn’t know," Noyce said, sounding a little surprised. "Andrew Westphalen is Kristin Westphalen’s father."

"I asked her once if she was related to him," Nathan admitted, the news that his CMO had left him out of the loop doing nothing to improve his mood. "She muttered something about distantly and went back to what she was doing."

Noyce shrugged. "I gather the relationship tends to be a bit..."The new secretary general of the U.E.O. hunted for the right word. "Volatile," he muttered at last.

"Wonderful," Nathan sighed as he worked a hand through his hair. Wonderful. He wasn’t merely being handed a guest, but one who apparently had a rough relationship with a member of his crew. "Anything else I need to know?"

Noyce nodded, looking distinctly uncomfortable as he continued. "Umm, the admiral really wants to see her."

"It’s not that big a boat," Bridger reminded his old friend. "I’m sure they’ll run across each other."

"Just make sure she’s there, all right?"

"All right," Nathan agreed in spite of his growing unease. Common sense told him there was more that Noyce wasn't telling him. "Uh, Bill. Just how...volatile...is this relationship?"

Noyce shrugged. "I’m sure it’s nothing," he said quickly.

Too quickly in Nathan’s opinion. "Bill?" he started to ask for more, but Noyce abruptly glanced at his watch.

"Sorry, Nathan, but I’ve got a meeting to get to. See you in a couple of days." The transmission cut off almost instantly, leaving Bridger standing there helplessly.

Nathan stared at the now blank screen for a long moment. "Why do I have a funny feeling you’re sandbagging me, old friend?" he muttered. Finally, he sighed heavily and turned away from the screen as he glanced at his watch. Kristin was likely to be in her lab now, which meant bearding the lion in its den. Oh yeah, that should be fun. He massaged the back of his neck as he nerved himself up for what he suspected was going to be a colorful confrontation.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kristin Westphalen was studying a sample through a microscope when Nathan entered the science lab. As he watched she jotted several notes on a nearby clipboard without looking up.

"Doctor, may I speak to you for a moment?"

She didn’t glance up as she answered. "Just a sec'."

As he waited, it occurred to Nathan that he might be running things just a little too democratically when his crew felt free to ignore him at will.

Finally, the doctor’s chin tipped up and she blinked rapidly as she refocused her eyes. "Sorry about that," she apologized and pushed her bangs away from her face. "A cell sample was metastasizing and I wanted to watched the replication process." She smiled at him in a way that caused Nathan to experience an increasingly familiar pull of attraction. "You said you wanted something?"

Nathan tamped down a strip poker fantasy that he occasionally indulged in late at night and reached up, massaging the back of his neck in order to cover a momentary twinge of embarrassment. "I just fielded a call from Bill Noyce. We’re going to have a guest aboard seaQuest that I thought you’d like to know about."

The doctor nodded curiously as she reached for her coffee cup.

"Your...uh...father, Admiral Westphalen will be joining us for a couple of days."

Kristin froze for the briefest span of a second, then carefully set her mug aside. "I see," she said noncommittally.

Nathan frowned slightly, uncertain exactly how she was responding.

His question was answered a moment later when she murmured. "I’ve got a few vacation days coming. Sounds like a wonderful time to visit my daughter."

"Kristin, it’s your father," Nathan reminded her.

Westphalen nodded, her manner that of someone explaining something to a small child. "Yes, I know. That’s why I’m leaving."

Nathan tried again. "According to Bill, he specifically said he wants to see you."

Kristin shook her head dismissively. "Trust me, Nathan, you do not want to be around if my father and I are locked together in small, enclosed space...particularly one with nuclear weapons."

"The seaQuest isn’t that small," the captain pointed out helpfully, though he avoided the topic of just how well armed she was.

"It is when you’re talking about my father and I."

"Do you really hate each other that much?" Bridger questioned disbelievingly.

"Good Lord, no," Kristin denied instantly. "I love my father very dearly and he loves me as well. If either one of us needs a kidney, we know where to look. However, we don’t seem to agree on very much. As a result, life is simpler if we avoid one another as much as possible. So—in the interest of maintaining peace aboard the seaQuest—I’ll just take a few days off. Simple problem, simple solution."

"Not so simple," Nathan muttered and combed his fingers through his hair in a faintly nervous gesture.

"Meaning?" Kristin drawled, dark eyes glinting dangerously.

Nathan flinched under the impact of that gaze. "Meaning that Bill Noyce has ordered your presence during your father’s visit."

"Oh, he has, has he?" Kristin murmured and Nathan was grateful that the look in her eyes wasn’t directed at him. She gnawed on her lower lip for a moment before asking, "So, will the secretary general be along as well for this little cruise?"

"I...ah...yes," Nathan answered after hemming and hawing for a moment

"Good," she said far too sweetly. "It serves him right," she added in a voice that promised nothing good for Bill Noyce. With that, she turned back to her microscope, pointedly ignoring Nathan.

Bridger stuffed his hands in his pockets, staring at her for a long moment before he finally took the hint, turned on his heel and left. With his head down, he never noticed that the doctor looked up from her microscope to watch him go, her expression openly speculative.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Nathan had already read all of Andrew Westphalen’s books, but he spent the time prior to the man’s arrival skimming back through the long rambling tomes on politics and the military. Both volumes showed a man with a sharp incisive mind, a keen grasp of history, the odd flash of humor, and a set of strongly held opinions---very strongly held opinions. If nothing else, the next few days promised to be interesting since Nathan disagreed with a fair percentage of the admiral’s convictions.

As the launch docked, Bridger squared his shoulders and smoothed the creases out of his uniform. Standing next to him Crocker, Ford, Hitchcock, and even Joshua Levin had gone to some extra degree of effort to make certain their duty uniforms were perfectly pressed. His eyes slid across the waiting officers, proud to see that the looked like the sharp team of professionals they were. Now if only Kristin would put in an appearance in similar fashion. Bridger flashed a look at Ford who shook his head helplessly.

"I called her, sir," his ex-o said immediately. "She was working in the science lab, but she said she’d be here."

Nathan nodded in understanding and sighed softly. He had a bad feeling this was just the beginning.

Westphalen hadn’t arrived by the time the launch finished docking and she was still missing when the main hatch swung open.

From reading his books, Nathan expected the admiral to be a larger than life figure, tall, strong voiced, broad shouldered. As a result, he wasn’t prepared for the smallish, wiry man who stepped from the shuttle a step ahead of both Bill Noyce and the military photographer.

Andrew Westphalen had to be pushing eighty, but he didn’t particularly look it. His dark eyes were bright, intelligent, near-mirrors of his daughter’s. There was a quick energy to his step, an aura of command to his stiff bearing, and his British naval uniform was perfectly pressed though his narrow chest barely seemed broad enough to support the host of medals pinned there.

"Admiral Westphalen, sir," Nathan said as he stepped forward and snapped a sharp salute. "Captain Nathan Bridger at your service. I’d like to welcome you aboard the seaQuest."

Westphalen returned a smart salute, then dropped his hands to clasp them together at the small of his back. "Good to be aboard, Captain," the older man clipped with a sharp precise accent.

"Nathan," Bill Noyce said informally as he stepped up behind the admiral.

Bridger tipped his head to his old friend. "Bill."

"And this is Jay Michaels," Noyce added gesturing to the young man with the camera standing next to him. "He’ll be taking pictures."

Michaels nodded. "Pleased to meet you, sir," he said quickly.

Meanwhile, the admiral’s eyes slid across the gathered welcoming party and his expression tightened slightly.

Nathan traded a brief, frustrated gaze with Noyce, then turned in the direction of the waiting officers. "If I might introduce some of my crew, Admiral."

Westphalen nodded, waving him on.

As Nathan spoke, the photographer stepped off to one side, snapping pictures to commemorate the occasion.

"My Ex-O, Commander Jonathan Ford, our Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Katherine Hitchcock, Security Chief, Manilow Crocker, and Assistant Science Officer, Joshua Levin." Each of the crewmembers nodded in acknowledgment as his or her name was mentioned.

"I note your chief science officer seems to be missing," the admiral commented acidly.

"She had duty in the med lab this morning," Nathan responded uneasily. "Something must have come up."

Westphalen hrumphed, but didn’t openly challenge Bridger’s assertion.

Bridger was about to say something more, though he wasn't quite sure what, when Lucas Wolenczek skidded into the launch bay, his overlong blonde hair and oversize clothes in an apparent contest to see which could be in the most disarray. "So, is the doc’s dad here yet?" he asked before noticing the newcomers. "Whoa," he exhaled as he got a look at Westphalen’s collection of medals. "You musta won a coupla wars single-handed," he commented as he came to a halt in front of the man in question.

Westphalen’s dark eyes narrowed as he peered at Lucas. "And who would this be?" he prompted icily.

Despite the fact that a retired British naval officer had absolutely no jurisdiction aboard his ship, Nathan automatically snapped his spine a little straighter as he answered, "Lucas Wolenczek." Nathan pinned a forbidding gaze on the teen. Lucas knew damn well that Bridger hadn’t wanted him at this particular little affair and he’d purposely ignored that fact. "He’s a member of the science team."

Lucas grinned and pushed his hair out of his eyes while Westphalen eyeballed the teen with an expression that was a cross between disbelief and near contempt. Finally, he shook his head disgustedly and muttered, "Leave it to my daughter to recruit an unkempt youth in the pursuit of protecting the free world. That child would have resisted Hitler himself with shaggy, idealistic children instead of guns."

Nathan was about to speak up in defense of both the teen and his chief science officer when Kristin Westphalen’s voice cut in with the dryly uttered remark, "Whereas you would have tried to cure polio by shooting the patient."

All eyes in the launch bay turned toward the woman standing in the open hatchway. Unlike the others, she had declined to wear a uniform and was instead dressed in a well-worn pair of levis, a cream colored t-shirt and an oversize chambray shirt. "However, as it happens, Lucas is a fully qualified computer systems engineer, not merely some shaggy youth." She put added emphasis on the last two words as she glared at her father.

Lucas grinned as his gaze met the doctor’s darker one and there was some strange sort of understanding between the two of them that left the rest of the room out of the loop.

Great, Nathan thought, now I have two teenagers on the boat, instead of just one.

The admiral, on the other hand, looked like he was about to blow an artery or two. "If the boy is going to be aboard, he should be properly attired," the man said frostily and glared pointedly at his daughter’s chosen outfit.

Kristin was about to respond when Nathan spun, pinning her in place with a hard gaze. Whatever she had been about to say died on her tongue as she saw the warning look on his face. She swallowed hard and tamped down on her temper as she crossed to pat Lucas on the shoulder. "Lucas was helping me in the lab," she lied smoothly, flashing a glance at Bridger before she continued. "Things got a bit messy I’m afraid. Please accept my apologies. There was no time to clean up before we came down."

Everyone in the bay looked distinctly relieved except Lucas, who flashed Kristin a slightly disappointed look, and her father who looked at her with the full knowledge of someone who has just been poorly lied to and is very much aware of it.

Kristin stepped forward to kiss her father lightly on the cheek and trade a somewhat perfunctory hug.

"Your mother wanted me to ask when you plan on coming home again?" the elder Westphalen clipped as his daughter stepped back from the hug.

Kristin shrugged. "Some time when I have more than a few days off," she said a little helplessly.

"Hmph, that could mean years," the admiral grumbled.

"I lead a busy life."

"Yes, busy writing articles against military funding and trying to turn battleships into floating laboratories."

Kristin ignored the jibe and tried to change the subject. "Did Mother get the funding from the Anklam Institute that she was hoping for?"

The admiral waved a hand. "She got it...damn silliness if you ask me but—"

"I’m not here to argue about her research," Kristin cut him off sharply.

"Hmmph. Of course not. Probably support that waste of money too."

"Actually, as it happens, I don’t especially, however, that’s neither here nor there. I was trying to find out if things are going smoothly at home."

The admiral ignored her rather stressed response as he continued. "Steven stopped by when he was in Manchester last month. Never understood why you left that young man. Did quite well for himself…for a civilian."

Nathan saw Kristin take a deep breath as she reined in her temper. "Father," she began in measured tones while massaging her temple as though she had suddenly developed a vicious headache. "In view of the fact that Steven and I have been divorced for nearly twenty years, I don’t think we really need to discuss it here and now."

"Yes, well, you may not want to discuss it, but I know my granddaughter—"

"Father," Kristin said softly and there was a dangerous warning note in her voice that pulled even the strong-willed old man up short. The two glared at one another for a long moment before the admiral muttered something under his breath. He seemed to be about to say something more, but Nathan stepped into the newly-opened breach.

"Perhaps you’d like a quick tour of the seaQuest before you see your quarters, sir?" Bridger offered as he literally stepped between the two.

The admiral turned an assessing gaze on the captain of the seaQuest. It was a look was meant to quell any form of defiance. Andrew Westphalen had honed and sharpened it over a career that spanned more than fifty years, and he was used to seeing presidents, captains and ensigns alike quaver when it was turned their ways. Nathan faced him with a cool look of command. Westphalen’s eyes narrowed as he noted the warning. Bridger might pay his respects to the older man, but there were limits to just how far he would allow things to go.

Finally, the elder Westphalen canted his head to one side in acknowledgment. "That would be fine," he allowed though there was a thread of irritation in his voice.

"Very well, then," Bridger clipped as he gestured toward the hatch. The move left the admiral with little choice but to exit. Nathan glanced over at Bill Noyce, who was hanging toward the back of the party. "Bill," he prompted coolly.

Noyce flashed an apologetic smile that only made Nathan’s expression tighten. With a shrug, the secretary general of the UEO followed the admiral into the corridor.

Bridger let out a soft sigh of relief as he glanced over at Ford. "I have a feeling I’ll be busy today," he warned his ex-o.

Ford nodded. "Understood, sir."

"Good," Nathan exhaled, then glanced at Kristin where she was standing behind him, her expression vaguely embarrassed. Nathan flicked an irritated gaze over her chosen attire, then met her dark gaze with a gently chiding one. "And I’d appreciate it if my chief scientist could turn back into an adult," he scolded dryly.

Kristin nodded, her expression suitably chastened, then she ducked her head toward the corridor. "You’d better go," she cautioned him. "He doesn’t like to be kept waiting."

Nathan sighed softly and hurried after the other two men, though not before his crew heard him mutter, "I’m going to get Bill for this."

After he was gone and the men’s voices had disappeared down the corridor, the remaining crewmembers let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Well, that was certainly interesting," Manilow Crocker commented with typical deadpan authority.

Kristin smiled dryly. "Well, that’s my father for you. He always did know how to make an entrance."

Crocker turned a look on the doctor, but refrained from commenting on the fact that it appeared to run in the family.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Several hours later, Nathan Bridger was contemplating the best way to get his revenge on Bill Noyce. The admiral was still cross-examining the bridge crew and harumphing with disapproval over several of the seaQuest’s standard practices. The ‘quick tour’ had long since turned into an all-day inspection and Nathan was beginning to understand the doctor’s immediate response that she would leave before the old man arrived. Given his choice, Nathan knew he’d certainly be haring out of there. And judging by the look of his crew, they’d be right behind him.

Poor Tim O'Neill looked like he’d like to crawl under his console, while Katherine Hitchcock was still bristling with fury over the former admiral’s implication that women shouldn’t be allowed aboard submarines or in combat at all, for that matter. Even the usually unflappable Ford looked like he’d prefer to be somewhere else---anywhere else. Only Ben Krieg and the photographer hovering in the background snapping pictures, seemed oblivious to the tension in the room.

"I’d like to see these wondrous new science labs now," the admiral said abruptly. "After all, if the future of the U.E.O.," and here, the admiral pinned the sable gaze that was the duplicate of his daughter’s on Bill Noyce. "lies in scientific research," he said the last words with audible distaste, "then a man shouldn’t miss his chance to get a glimpse."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When all was said and done, Nathan had to admire his chief scientist for not killing her father as the aging former officer did everything but put the lab through a white glove test. The captain of the seaQuest did his best to blunt the worst of it, but short of physically forcing the senior Westphalen from the room there was little he could do. However, he was proud of Kristin. Despite her earlier sarcasm, she maintained a tight lock on her temper, wearing a fixed smile that gave nothing away in the face of even the most obvious pressure to explode.

The strangest part was that Bridger had the strangest feeling the old man was almost disappointed by the lack of response to his baiting.

Likewise Lucas was visibly getting angrier at their guest with each borderline insult and progressively more disgusted with Kristin for not firing back. Nathan had the urge to grab his head when Andrew Westphalen noticed the boy’s growing fury and began openly encouraging it.

It all finally broke when Westphalen snapped at the boy, "Out of my way."

Lucas stumbled backwards, startled enough that he had to throw out a hand to maintain his balance. His hand hit a beaker of dye and it tipped. Lucas tried to catch it, but the beaker spun and shattered against the counter sending dark fluid spilling across the admiral’s spotless uniform. Still unbalanced, the teenager unintentionally put his hand down into the shattered glass.

"Bloody little idiot!" the old man exploded furiously, his attention focused on the dark stain splashed across his uniform. "Clumsy Fool! What do you—"

"Shut up, Father!" Kristin snapped, already hurrying over to Lucas’s side. She automatically put out a hand to steady the boy and gently instructed, "Let me see that." She carefully lifted his palm off the counter to get a look at the extent of the damage, shaking her head as she noted the glass embedded in his flesh.

The senior Westphalen froze as he abruptly realized that the boy was hurt. "I—" he growled, intending to apologize, but Kristin didn’t give him a chance.

"OUT!" the doctor snapped, her temper finally giving way. She looked over her shoulder to glare at her father. "Now," she added more calmly, though there was pure ice in her voice.

"Now look here—" the admiral started to argue.

This time it was Bridger who cut him off. "I think we should be going, sir." Nathan said firmly.

The old man turned a chill glare on the captain of the seaQuest. "When I’m—"

"Now, sir," Bridger intoned with absolute authority.

"Nathan," Bill Noyce started to intercede, but Bridger flashed him a hard look and he fell silent.

"Very well," the admiral gave in ungracefully at last.

Nathan was the last one of the small group out and he glanced back as he stepped from the room, eyes meeting Kristin’s grateful look with an apologetic one of his own. She mouthed the words, "Thank you," just before he disappeared out the hatch.

After they had gone, Kristin turned back to the problem of Lucas’ hand. "Sit here," she ordered briskly as she moved to fetch peroxide, bandages, and a pair of tweezers.

Lucas sat quietly as she returned and carefully began removing the narrow slivers of glass from his palm.

"You shoulda told him to stuff it," Lucas muttered at last.

"Probably," Kristin agreed, then peered at him over the top edge of her reading glasses. "But it wouldn’t have done any good. My father’s not going to change at this point in his life."

"So, why’d you finally throw him out?"

Kristin shrugged. "Because I won’t allow him to take out our disagreements on others."

"I guess I can understand that," the teen finally allowed with a soft sigh.

"Glad to hear it," Kristin murmured.

"Still think you shoulda told him to stuff it, though."

Kristin chuckled softly, but didn’t argue.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Long hours later, after both Bill Noyce and Andrew Westphalen had finally been settled in guest quarters, Nathan stumbled back in the direction of his cabin. He pulled to a halt as he passed Kristin Westphalen’s cabin, momentarily debating whether or not to knock. After what he’d seen, he was a little worried about her Finally, he rapped his knuckles lightly against the door, making enough noise that she would hear it if she was awake, but not enough to rouse her if she had already gone to bed. There was a long moment of silence and Nathan started to turn away from the door when he heard the sound of the latch being thrown. After a second, the door swung open to reveal Kristin. She was wearing a robe over a vee-necked t-shirt and her hair fell to her shoulders in still damp waves. The pleasant smell of some flowery soap or shampoo teased his nostrils.

"Nathan?" the doctor murmured a bit blearily as she tightened the belt on her robe.

Bridger suddenly found himself wondering if this was such a good idea as he mentally slapped himself to keep from staring at the generous view of cleavage offered by her choice of nightwear.

"You wanted something?" she prompted and Nathan became aware that despite his best intentions, he’d been staring.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I just...uh...wanted to see how you’re doing after...y'know...everything that happened today," he explained haltingly.

Westphalen’s brows rose and she shrugged. "Fine," she answered simply.

Nathan frowned slightly. She was being very blasé about it all. "I just...after the scene with your father...well, I thought I should ask."

"Ah," Kristin exhaled knowingly and waved one hand in a dismissive gesture. "I’m used to it by now." She snickered suddenly, leaning against the doorjamb as her voice became conspiratorial. Nathan had to lean close to hear her as she whispered, "He doesn’t really approve of me, you know."

"I’m sure your father loves you."

"Of course he does," Kristin agreed, then sighed heavily and folded her arms across her chest. Her chin dropped to her chest and she stared at the floor between her feet. "I don’t think he likes me very much though," she admitted in a sad, little-girl-lost voice that made Nathan’s heart go out to her.

Kristin seemed to be about to say something else, but abruptly shook her head and pushed away from the wall. She turned and stepped back into her cabin, leaving the hatch open behind her.

Nathan noted that she looked a bit unsteady as she crossed to her desk and retrieved a snifter of brandy. The glass was empty and she poured a fresh measure from a sterling silver flask. Nathan debated his options for a moment, then stepped into her cabin, tugging the hatch shut in his wake.

Kristin turned at the sound and canted her head to one side as she looked at him with an expression Nathan couldn’t quite define, but which set his senses on edge. As he watched, she hitched herself up to sit on one corner of her desk, then took a slow sip from the brandy glass, staring at him over the rim of the snifter.

Nathan met her dark gaze with raised brows, then finally moved to stand in front of her. He tapped the glass lightly with the tip of his finger. "Kristin," he asked a little worriedly. "How much of this have you had?"

She sighed softly and took another sip before tilting her head back to peer thoughtfully up at him. "Do you know what I first noticed about you?" she asked conversationally.

Nathan paused, visibly considering his options. Finally, he decided to play along. Besides, he was curious about the answer. "No, what?"

"You have the most incredible eyes," she answered seriously.

"If you tell me they’re beautiful," he growled mock angrily. "I may have to beat you."

"You would never hit a woman," she dismissed instantly.

"Particularly a drunk one?" Nathan murmured as he neatly plucked the glass from her hand and set it aside.

Kristin eyed the drink momentarily before looking back at Bridger. "Not drunk," she denied, her voice only a little thicker than usual.

Nathan flashed her a doubtful look and she shrugged one narrow shoulder. "A bit tipsy perhaps," she allowed, then rested one hand lightly on his chest. "But we weren’t discussing my blood alcohol level. We were discussing your eyes."

"All right," Nathan admitted a little uneasily. "You were about to tell me I have beautiful eyes," he muttered self-deprecatingly.

"No," Kristin denied quietly. "Not beautiful." Her voice was low and thoughtful, the look in her eyes richly appealing.

Bridger’s breath caught and he could feel his heartrate pick up. "What then?" he whispered despite the warning klaxons going off in the back of his head.

"They’re deep," she answered quite seriously. "Sometimes you look at someone and it’s like you can see through them...sometimes it’s like you can see through to my soul."

Nathan’s mouth went dry and he had to clamp down on a sharp rush of desire. He’d found this woman appealing from the first and the attraction was already difficult enough to resist. The look she was giving him made it damn near impossible. "I think," he said carefully as he lifted her hand from his chest. "You should go to bed." And he should get a cold shower.

"Sounds like a wonderful idea," Kristin drawled. She reached out and ran her fingers lightly along his jawline. "Care to join me?" she invited in a voice rife with sensual promise.

Nathan’s mouth dropped open. Make that shower ice cold. No, that wasn't nearly cold enough. Maybe a dip in the Arctic, he thought, feeling as though he’d been punched in the stomach. "I...uh...don’t think that would be a good idea," he said at last.

"I don’t see why not," Kristin whispered as she trailed her fingers away from his jaw to drape her arm around the back of his neck. "We’ve both been thinking about it for some time now." Her arm tightened on his neck, tugging his head down.

Logically, Nathan knew he should pull away, send the good doctor off to bed—alone—and get the hell out of her cabin. Unfortunately, the moment her mouth touched his, logic ceased to be a primary motivating factor in his life. She outlined his lips with her tongue, and he could smell the sharp bite of the brandy on her breath. He tasted it a moment later as he opened his mouth against hers and their tongues tangled with hungry delight.

Nathan’s heart was pounding as arousal so intense it was almost painful vibrated through his veins. He was very much aware of her hands when they dropped to his shirtfront. Nimble fingers made short work of the tiny buttons and she parted the soft fabric to run curious hands over his bare torso, searching out and testing the firm muscles of his chest. A moment later, her hands slid lower, fingers brushing across his flat belly as she sought the waistband of his trousers. It snapped him back to reality with a solid whump and he pulled back, abruptly breaking the kiss. He was breathing hard, his pupils dilated, body aching in all the right places. When Kristin would have leaned back into his body, he caught her shoulders in strong hands, holding her back. "As enjoyable as this is," he panted raggedly. "I really should go."

"Are you sure?" Kristin drawled and she caught his hanging shirttails, tugging them apart as she leaned forward to press a light kiss over the center of his breastbone.

Nathan froze the instant her lips touched his flesh. She chuckled softly as she pressed teasing kisses across his chest and trailed her fingers down the flat plain of his belly.

He groaned her name weakly as her fingers dropped to his belt buckle and fumbled with the latch. Her lips blazed lower and Nathan’s breath caught as a harsh buzzing seemed to short out the circuitry in his brain. His hands tangled reflexively in her auburn hair, playing with the silky strands as he said her name again.

"Shhh," she murmured softly, then darted her tongue out to taste the slight salt of his skin. The soft sound of a zipper sliding seemed to echo through the room.

"We really shouldn’t," Nathan exhaled, but made no further effort to push her away. His head fell back and he groaned deep in his throat. "I...really...should...go..."

"Not just yet," Kristin’s warmly accented voice washed over him, then he lost track of time until she straightened and pressed the full length of her body against his. The tie on her robe had come loose so that the fabric dangled open, leaving little more than her thin t-shirt between them. Nathan slipped his hands under the robe and around her waist, drawing her even closer so that her hips were pressed against his and her breasts were molded to his chest. The doctor stretched up to trail her lips along his jawline. "Still planning on leaving?" she questioned as she reached his mouth.

Nathan darted his tongue out, outlining the full contour of her lower lip. "I couldn’t if I wanted to," he admitted. Giving in to his desires, he opened his mouth over hers.

Kristin chuckled softly through the kiss, opening her mouth to the curious probing of his tongue. She pushed his shirt back off his shoulders and he released her just long enough to shrug out of the soft fabric, letting it fall to the floor without a care.

The long drugging kisses went on for long minutes until Kristin finally broke the kiss and pushed Nathan back a step.

He blinked rapidly, a little lost in a narcotic haze of lust. "Wha’?" he questioned.

Westphalen twitched her eyebrows and grinned suggestively as she shrugged first one and then other shoulder out of her robe. The soft velour slipped off her shoulders and hung down her narrow back.

"Don’t stop there," the captain of the seaQuest encouraged.

She let it fall to the floor at her feet. "How’s this?" she questioned as she trailed long, graceful fingers down her body to catch the bottom edge of her nightshirt. Nathan’s pupils dilated as she lifted the shirt a few inches, teasing him with a glimpse of pale flesh.

"Is that all?" he questioned, proud that he managed to keep a quaver out of his voice.

Kristin’s expression was one of pure sensual promise. "Not by a long shot," she husked and the bottom edge of the shirt climbed another few inches. "Of course, you could help."

"I could do that," Nathan agreed and reached out. His fingers curled into the soft knit and he tugged, sweeping it up and over her head before tossing it aside without watching to see where it landed as he reached for her. "I always was the helpful sort," he murmured, then his mouth found hers and there was no more time for words.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Utterly spectacular," Kristin breathed in a faintly dazed voice as she leaned her head back against Nathan’s shoulder. She could feel the play of his chest muscles against her back as he relaxed into the mattress.

Nathan brushed her hair away from her cheek and throat as he leaned past he shoulder to a press a series of kisses to her sweat damp skin. It smelled slightly of brandy. He grinned as he noted the discarded, now empty, flask lying nearby on her nightstand. "Pretty amazing," he agreed breathlessly.

Their legs were loosely tangled and Kristin shifted one foot to run it lightly over his hair-roughened calf.

"That’s nice," Nathan mumbled as he buried his face in the curve of her throat. He nibbled lightly on her ear, thoroughly enjoying the feel of her body as he trailed a hand down the curve of her thigh.

Kristin rolled onto her back and reached up to play teasingly with the sprinkling of hair on his chest. "I hope it’s a little better than nice."

Nathan leaned his head on his hand as he stared down at her. He ran his other hand over her torso, drawing erotic patterns on her flesh with his fingertips. "Astounding, awesome, inspiring," he began listing adjectives.

"Inspiring?" Kristin chuckled.

"Inspiring," Nathan confirmed and leaned down, kissing her hungrily to prove it. He nibbled on her lower lip, then trailed his mouth down to bite her chin incredibly gently. He tasted her throat, then dipped his tongue into the hollow at the base before trailing his lips along the curve of her collarbone. "Very inspiring," he added long minutes later when they were both breathing hard with growing arousal.

"Your carnal muse?" Kristin questioned in a voice made thick by desire.

"Something like that," Nathan agreed without looking up from the soft skin of her stomach, where he was watching the banding of muscles quiver with every touch and kiss.

Kristin slipped a hand into his hair, tugging him upward until he was stretched out over her. They kissed slowly, tongues tangling. His mouth tasted of brandy.

"Care to try for thirds?" the doctor invited huskily.

Nathan drew back a few inches. "You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?" he groaned. "You’re really a spy sent to do me in by a rival confederation."

Kristin shrugged one narrow shoulder. "At least you’ll die happy."

Nathan ducked his head to kiss her again. "The spirit is more than willing," he admitted, "But I’m afraid the body hasn’t quite caught up yet."

"You’re sure?" Kristin murmured and there was a challenging glint in her rich brown eyes.

Nathan thought about it and was still considering his answer when she pushed him over onto his back and arched over him. She kissed him slowly and her fingers danced teasingly over his torso, tracing the rises and hollows of bone and muscle. When her mouth slipped from his, it was only to flutter her lips along his chin and jawline. His chin was rough with stubble and she chuckled lightly as she felt it against her tongue.

"Sorry about that," Nathan apologized as he realized what she was laughing at. "If I had known this was going to happen, I’d have shaved."

Kristin pushed up on her arms to stare down at him. "If you’d known this was going to happen, you’d have run like hell," she corrected. "Besides," she added as she dropped her mouth to his cheek. "I rather like it."

"Anything to please," Nathan sighed and slid his hands up her narrow back, fingers spreading over her silky skin.

"That’s my line," the doctor murmured as her mouth dropped lower on his torso. "So, how’s the body doing now?"

"It’s definitely working on it," he admitted.

Her lips ambled downward and Nathan’s breath caught in response. "Putting in overtime, in fact," he croaked. His voice climbed nearly an octave. "You know you’re very good at this."

Kristin’s only response was a low chuckle.

"Very good," Nathan repeated breathlessly. "If this ever becomes an Olympic event...go for the gold."

Another low chuckle.

Nathan’s eyes rolled back in his head. "In fact, they may have to invent a platinum."

Long minutes later, Westphalen slid up her lover’s body, tasting and teasing his warm flesh during the entire journey. "Status report?" she queried with mock seriousness when they were nose to nose.

He snapped a surprisingly sharp salute, considering his position and responded with equal seriousness. "Ready, willing, and able."

"Mmm...that’s the sort of answer I like to hear."

"It’s the sort I like to give," Bridger admitted, then abruptly rolled her underneath him, bracing his elbows on either side of her head to support his upper body.

"Cheater," Kristin laughingly complained.

"That’s me," Bridger agreed as he trailed a line of kisses down her throat. "I was just wondering if I could go for a medal of my own." He brushed his lips over her breastbone as he ranged downwards.

"That would be a bronze," Kristin murmured a moment later.

It was Nathan’s turn to chuckle.

Her breath coming in ragged pants, back arched with raw pleasure, Kristin whispered, "Silver."

"I’ll just have to do a little better," her lover murmured.

"Gold," Kristin yelped only moments later.

Nathan moved back over her, settling against her body as he reclaimed her lips. "Care to go for a team gold?" he questioned when the kiss broke.

Kristin nodded, clinging to his shoulders. "I think you read my mind."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The soft beeping of Kristin’s alarm clock brought her head up. She snapped a hand out, fingers fumbling across her nightstand in the quest to silence the near inaudible sound. As she pulled her hand back, she bumped the empty brandy flask and had to react quickly to catch it before it could hit the floor. She straightened the bottle, hoping she hadn’t disturbed the man cuddled against her back.

"Nice save," Nathan commented near her ear as he tightened the hand resting on her hip, tracing concentric circles with the pad of his thumb.

Kristin twisted enough to look back up at him, smiling gently as she met his sleepy-eyed gaze. "You’re awake."

"Mmm...have been for a little while. What time is it?" he mumbled.

"Six thirty."

Nathan shifted enough to lean his head on his hand to stare down at her. "I should go," he said regretfully. "I need a shower and change of clothes before I meet your father and Bill at nine."

Kristin shook her head. "Poor boy," she sympathized as she rolled over onto her back. "I don’t envy you the day spent in their company."

"You and me both," Nathan grumbled, then abruptly twisted and tugged a yellow peanut M&M wrapper out from under his shoulder.

Kristin grinned as he held it up for her to see. "That’s where that went," she muttered.

Nathan crumpled the paper and tossed it in the direction of the refuse slot.

"I just hope I can get the chocolate stains out of the sheets."

"Not to mention the smell of brandy," Nathan murmured and flashed a glance at the now empty flask. "Which reminds me."

"Hmm?"

"Why do you keep a bottle of chocolate syrup in your cabin?"

Westphalen shrugged one slim shoulder. "Because if I leave it in the galley, Krieg inhales it," she answered quite practically.

"Really?" Nathan drawled.

Kristin’s rolled her eyes and her mouth tipped up. "Oh, stop smirking. I like it on ice cream."

Bridger cleared his throat suggestively.

"Among other things," the woman admitted through a chuckle.

Nathan buried his face in the curve of her shoulder as he was suddenly overcome with laughter. "You do realize," he murmured when he could speak again. "That, at this point, we have committed nearly every act of debauchery imaginable with the limited supplies available aboard this boat?"

Kristin grinned happily. "I know."

"And on that note," Nathan sighed regretfully. "I really do have to go."

"If you say so," his lover murmured and snuggled deeper into the mattress as he slid from the bunk. Kristin tugged the sheets up around herself as she watched him pad around the cabin, retrieving the clothes he’d discarded the night before.

Nathan was half dressed when he abruptly realized she was watching his every move. "Enjoying yourself?" he asked dryly.

Kristin nodded and raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Nathan’s lips twitched into a wry smile. "You do know you’re a pervert, don’t you?"

"Fully certified. I have the union card to prove it," she agreed cheerfully as she pushed upright in bed, the sheet tucked under her arms to keep it in place across her chest.

Nathan’s eyebrows rose as he traced the smooth line of her bare shoulders with hungry eyes.

Kristin’s expression was blatantly alluring, the look in her velvety eyes making promises few men could have resisted. "You’re sure you have to go?" she questioned as she intentionally let the sheet slip a little lower.

Bridger canted his head to one side. "I do believe you’re trying to seduce me," he decided out loud as his eyes tracked the teasing descent of the sheet.

"Would I do a thing like that?" she asked innocently and let the sheet drop another notch.

"Oh, yes," Bridger murmured. Abruptly, he tossed his shirt over a chair and returned to her bedside. He wasn’t actually due to meet Noyce and the admiral for a couple of hours. "You could tempt a saint," he whispered at last, then leaned down, bracing his palms against the wall on either side of her head as his mouth found hers with hungry intensity. After a long moment, he dropped nimble fingers to the thin barrier of the sheet and tugged it down, intentionally brushing his knuckles over the rise of her breasts.

"I try," she admitted through the drugging, sensual weight of his kiss. Heart pounding in her chest, she slipped her arms up around his shoulders, fingers spreading across his well muscled back as she drew him down to her.

His clothes quickly became a thing of the past again as he rejoined her on the bunk.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jonathan Ford watched Bill Noyce and Andrew Westphalen step onto the bridge with something akin to dread. "You two are up early," he commented as he crossed to greet the two men.

Westphalen peered at him with hard eyes. "I’m a lifetime military man, Commander," the admiral flashed a disapproving look at a bleary-eyed Bill Noyce. "Haven’t been up later than 0600 since I was a boy."

Ford’s eyebrows rose. "Yes, sir," he responded.

"So, where’s your captain?" the older man demanded as his head swung back around to pin a piercing, near-black gaze on Ford.

Jonathan shrugged a little uneasily, looking at Noyce in a plea for help.

Noyce only shrugged. He’d never been at his best in the morning.

"Probably still in bed, sir. He was under the impression you weren’t due to meet until nine," Jonathan finally answered.

"Damned late in the day," Westphalen grumbled and folded his hands together at the small of his back. There was a long, silent pause while Ford stood with absolutely no idea what to do next.

"Well, get him up here," Westphalen snapped at last. "And notify my daughter her presence is requested as well."

"Right," Ford muttered as he crossed to lean over Tim O'Neill's shoulder.

O'Neill paged Bridger’s cabin without success.

"Well?" a clipped British accent demanded from behind Jonathan.

"He’s not in his cabin, sir," Ford explained hastily. "He must be on his way."

"Then I suggest you page my daughter," the admiral reminded Ford.

"Right," Jonathan repeated his earlier comment as he again turned to peer over O'Neill's shoulder. The commander’s next comment was so softly uttered that only the lieutenant heard it. Tim O'Neill was a little startled. He’d never known Ford to use language like that before.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Still breathing hard, Nathan buried his face in Kristin’s shoulder. "You are amazing," he exhaled near her ear.

Kristin chuckled softly. Her hands rested, limp on his back and she raised one to play idly with his hair as she whispered. "You’re no slouch yourself."

"I try," Nathan sighed, echoing her earlier comment almost inaudibly as he gave way to the delicious post-coital lassitude. "I should move," he added a moment later, though he made no attempt to shift a muscle beyond nuzzling against her shoulder.

"No hurry," Kristin breathed, thoroughly enjoying the feel of his body against hers.

They were both about half asleep, only moments later, when the intercom over Kristin’s head chirped for attention.

Still muzzy, Nathan automatically clicked the on switch as he answered, "Bridger here." The words were out of his mouth before he remembered where he was and just ahead the doctor’s hissed reminder, "Nathan."

Unfortunately, the microphone on the com-panel was a sensitive one and it picked up her voice quite clearly.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jonathan Ford froze as the sound of Kristin Westphalen’s voice echoed across the bridge. He looked down at Tim O'Neill who was suddenly blushing bright red. "Please tell me you paged the med-lab by mistake," Ford pleaded.

O'Neill shook his head miserably even as Bridger muttered a relatively colorful obscenity.

"Doctor Westphalen’s cabin, sir," O'Neill exhaled.

Jonathan found himself developing a sudden headache. It only got worse as there was a flurry of incomprehensible whispers over the intercom, then Bridger came back on.

The captain of the seaQuest cleared his throat. "I’m...uh...glad you caught me here."

There was a sharp harumphing sound behind Jonathan. The young man was certain it had a British accent.

"I was...uh...checking on Kris—Doctor Westphalen. She wasn’t feeling very...well when I ran into her last night. I wanted to check and see how she was...feeling...this morning...before I went on duty..."

There was a brief pause, and Jonathan truly didn’t know how to respond to a lie that patently obvious. He glanced back at their guests. Westphalen senior’s arms were folded across his narrow chest and the look on his face was truly forbidding. Noyce looked like he’d caught Ford's headache.

"Admiral Westphalen and Bill Noyce are there, aren’t they?" Nathan broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Yes, sir," Jonathan confirmed. "The admiral was hoping to meet with you earlier than originally planned."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kristin raised one hand to shade her eyes as she slowly shook her head, silently mouthing the words, "My father."

"Right," Nathan exhaled and he sounded every bit as ill as she supposedly felt.

"Ten minutes…on the bridge...both of you," an uncompromising British voice barked.

"I...uh...Captain?" Ford croaked.

"Just do your best," Bridger sighed.

"Right, sir...Ford out." The com went dead almost immediately.

Nathan sighed softly as he dropped his gaze to woman pressed intimately close. "There’s going to be hell to pay for this, isn’t there?"

Kristin nodded uneasily. "Oh, yes," she sighed. "And we should probably hurry...Like I said earlier, he doesn’t like to be kept waiting."

"In a minute," Nathan dismissed as a very nasty thought occurred to him. "First, I need to ask you a question."

"Nathan," Kristin whispered a little desperately. "They’re all waiting for us."

"It will only take a minute," Bridger said softly and something in his voice made Kristin go still.

"What?" she asked, suddenly nervous.

"How much of last night was because of you and I, and how much was a reaction to having your father aboard?"

"I…" she started to answer and the words dried up in her mouth. "Nathan, I wouldn’t have slept with you if I didn’t want to," she said at last, her tone unreadable.

Bridger stared down at as though he was trying to divine her deepest thoughts. "You’re right," he said abruptly and slid out of bed as it occurred to him that he wasn't ready for this. He grabbed his discarded clothes as he padded toward the bathroom. "We should get moving."

Kristin heard the sound of the shower as she slipped from bed, wrapping the sheet around herself as she moved.

Nathan was just stepping under a cold spray when she entered the bathroom. At her questioning look, he shrugged. "If we show up a few minutes late, they’ll wonder. If we look like something the cat dragged in, they’ll know."

Kristin grinned wordlessly at his logic and let the sheet drop to the floor, then stepped into the shower beside him.

"Don’t even think about it," he warned.

"Who me? I’m just here for the soap," she teased as she grabbed for the bar and slid it up his bare chest. "Besides, I don’t think either one of is up to it, even if we had the time."

"I know I’m not," Bridger grumbled, but didn’t try to stop her as she continued to run the soap over his naked torso. "Up to it," he clarified at her mock-questioning look. "After last night, I may never be up to it again."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jonathan Ford pulled nervously at his collar as long minutes passed. Standing with his back to their guests, he fancied he could feel the admiral’s gaze burning a hole through a point between his shoulder blades. Finally, he spun on one heel. "Would you prefer to wait for them in the wardroom, sir?" he asked the admiral politely.

The admiral was tapping one foot rapidly against the deck. "The wardroom?" he repeated, then nodded slowly.

Jonathan thought he caught a glimpse of steam rising from the older man’s ears.

Bill Noyce didn’t say a word, just followed the other two as Jonathan led the way.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ben Krieg glanced up as the captain and Doctor Westphalen stepped onto the bridge nearly twenty minutes later. Bridger’s uniform was rumpled as though it had been slept in—or spent the night on the floor, Krieg thought with considerable insight—and both of them had dark circles under their eyes and appeared to be limping slightly. "Way to go," he mouthed to the captain and flashed him a thumbs up.

Bridger turned a look on the lieutenant that instantly shut him up and sent him scurrying back to his duties.

"They’re…uh…in the wardroom," Tim O'Neill told the captain before he had a chance to ask.

"Thanks," Bridger clipped and hurried out.

O'Neill watched the two disappear then shook his head. "I do not envy them, no siree, not me."

Krieg grinned. "That’s funny," he said thoughtfully, appreciative lust showing in his eyes. "I think I do...they look like they had fun last night."

"Ben!" his ex-wife chastised instantly.

Krieg folded his arms across his chest, his expression smug as he responded. "C’mon. Those two were rode hard and put away wet." He gnawed on his lower lip. "And doncha just know Westphalen's the one who brought the handcruffs...and the captain was the one with the whipped cream?"

Katie drew breath as if to argue only to change her mind at the last moment. Her ex had a point, not one she necessarily wanted to think about, but a point nonetheless.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Nathan straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath. He flashed a quick, encouraging smile at Kristin and got an answering nod in return, then stepped through the hatchway and into the wardroom.

Noyce and Admiral Westphalen were both seated at the large round table in the center of the room, while Ford paced in the background. As the captain entered the commander glanced around the table. "I should…uh…get back on the bridge," he stammered, then quickly fled without waiting to be dismissed."

The narrow-eyed, shrewd look the admiral pinned on him made Nathan feel about twelve and he had to resist the urge to glance over at Kristin. At least he now knew where she got it from. "Sir," he said with a faint, respectful nod of the chin.

Westphalen was silent and his gaze slid on to the equally braced figure of his daughter.

"Good morning, Father," Kristin said coolly.

"Nathan, Doctor Westphalen," Noyce welcomed them uneasily. He glanced over at Kristin’s father with raised eyebrows and sighed softly. If it weren’t for the admiral’s presence, Bill could have just politely ignored any other-than-entirely-approved activities by his old friend and the seaQuest’s chief scientist. His fingers beat a nervous rhythm on the desktop. "I really hate to ask this, Nathan," he said at last and there was no doubt he was telling the truth. "But, exactly what happened last night?"

Bridger glanced at Kristin. Time to present a united front. "As I said over the intercom, Bill, I was just checking on Doctor Westphalen this morning. She was somewhat...ill last night and I wanted to see how she was feeling."

The admiral snorted. "The woman’s a doctor, Captain. Don’t you think she can take her own temperature?"

Bridger stiffened perceptibly. "Sir," he said ultra-politely. "I care about the welfare of my entire crew, the medical staff included."

The old man jerked as if stung and started to say something only to abort the words before they left his mouth. "It’s obvious," he growled at last and pinned a flinty, disapproving gaze on Nathan, "that Captain Bridger has taken advantage of his position," he accused angrily.

"Now, wait a minute," Noyce broke in. He looked at Kristin a little pleadingly. "We still haven’t heard from Doctor Westphalen."

Kristin’s eyes met Noyce’s and she nodded slowly as a silent agreement passed between them. "I’m afraid Captain Bridger is being very kind." She glanced up at Nathan in time to catch his frown of confusion. This was not part of the scenario. "…and covering for me," she continued as she swung her head back around, her expression embarrassed as she told at least part of the truth. "I was a bit...inebriated last night. He was simply making certain I didn’t injure myself."

The admiral’s expression was frankly disbelieving. "Ha," he muttered. "Head for alcohol just like her mother. She could drink a whole brewery dry and barely feel it."

Kristin ignored the outburst and her gaze held Bill’s. "I will, of course, understand if you wish to ask for my resignation, Mister Secretary," she offered.

Bridger stiffened next to her and there was a faintly panicked glitter to his expression. "Now, wait a minute..." he started to protest, but Noyce waved him silent.

"I don’t think that will be necessary, Doctor. We all make mistakes. " Left unsaid was the inference that Kristin had had some degree of provocation. Noyce paused momentarily, as if considering his options. "You understand, I will have to put a letter of reprimand in your personnel file?"

Nathan pulled up short, all notions of protest dying on his lips. A letter of reprimand might have been a reasonable punishment for a career officer, but Kristin Westphalen was a civilian employee. Once she left the seaQuest, there wasn’t a prospective employer with the necessary security clearance to look at her U.E.O. personnel files.

"Of course, sir," Kristin agreed formally.

"Well, that’s that," Noyce said briskly, his expression distinctly relieved. "I suggest you get some rest, Doctor. You look like hell," he said surprisingly kindly as he started to rise. He froze in mid-motion as Admiral Westphalen’s fist slammed into the tabletop.

"That is certainly not that!" the old man growled with a pointed glare at Noyce. "You know damn well what happened last night," he clipped in a forbidding voice. "He," Westphalen jabbed a finger in Bridger’s direction, "should be censured and she should be removed from this boat."

"Now, wait one Goddamn minute," Nathan swore, finally losing his temper as he stepped forward. Bracing his hands flat on the table, he leaned forward into Westphalen’s space. "This is my boat, and I decide who comes and who goes."

"Nathan," Bill Noyce tried unsuccessfully to interject himself into the.

Admiral Westphalen pushed out of his seat, thrusting his chin forward until it was only scant inches from Bridger’s. "You," the admiral growled and punched a finger into Nathan’s chest, "are a disgrace to that uniform. And you---" He looked past Nathan to pin a hard gaze on his daughter.

"Don’t even consider it," Bridger’s voice rumbled threateningly through the room.

The implicit threat in the softly uttered words pulled the admiral up short. His dark eyes narrowed with frustrated fury. "You," he hissed, "have no right to tell me how to speak to my daughter.

"Yes, I do" Nathan shot back before Westphalen could say anymore. "As long as you are a guest aboard my boat...I damn well do."

"Damn you!" the admiral swore.

"SILENCE!" Bill Noyce bellowed, thrusting one arm between the two furious men when they didn’t immediately back off. "Separate corners!" he added in an uncompromising voice. Bill Noyce might have become a politician, but he’d spent time as a line officer in his day. "I mean it," he snarled when neither man moved.

Finally, both Bridger and Westphalen straightened away from the table, both folding their arms across their chests as they continued to try and stare one another down.

Noyce traded a look with Kristin who was standing in the background, her expression somewhere between appalled and shocked. "Doctor, I apologize for that scene." He glanced back and forth between the other men. "I was under the impression that this meeting would be conducted by adults...and gentlemen," he added the last as he glared pointedly at Kristin’s father who had the good graces to flush and drop his eyes. Bill Noyce and Kristin Westphalen were far from friends, but he'd never had any patience for rudeness. "I’ll see to the reprimand personally. You may go now, Dr. Westphalen."

Kristin seemed to be about to argue, but Noyce shook his head almost imperceptibly. She was still trying to decide what to do when Lucas came barreling into the wardroom. The mug in his hand sloshed and dark coffee flowed over the sides, spattering drops across his hand and the floor.

"Whoa," the teen yelped as he got a look at the angry looks all the way around the room. His hair hadn’t been combed, his t-shirt was a rumpled mess that looked as though it had never once been folded during its entire existence, and his feet were still bare. A thick sheaf of papers was stuffed under one arm. The boy winced as Kristin’s father glared at him with a look of total disapproval. "I...didn’t know anyone was in here," Lucas stammered. He held up the none-too-neatly stacked reports. "I was just going to use the computer station."

Westphalen senior shook his head disgustedly and speared a look at Bridger. "I don’t know why I’m surprised," he grumbled. "Unkempt children running the ship and my daughter obviously thinks the world of you." He shook his head, and there was an odd, defeated quality to the man’s posture as he stepped past Bridger and the others. "God knows, she hates any normal military procedure."

"That’s not fair," Kristin exhaled as he passed by.

The admiral looked over, his dark eyes probing. "Isn’t it?" he challenged, then continued before she could speak. "Maybe not, but then according to you, I never was very fair," he said impatiently, then the walls went up again. He glanced back at Noyce. "I’ll be in my cabin if I’m needed," he snapped in a tone that invited no comment. "Not that I’d be needed anymore," he muttered more to himself than the others as he hurried away.

"Bloody hell," Kristin muttered and threaded her fingers through her hair in a gesture of ragged frustration. "I hate it when he does that." She glanced back over her shoulder, visibly uncertain whether to follow after her father or not.

It was Lucas who answered the internal debate, reaching out to give her shoulder a little shake. "Why don’t you give him...and yourself a little time," he advised.

"Probably a good idea," she admitted. "I’m not really very," she paused to take a breath before continuing, "collected at the moment."

"You can go on, Doctor," Noyce dismissed her gently.

Kristin traded a meaningful gaze with Bridger as she nodded. "Thank you."

Nathan moved as if to join her, but Bill Noyce’s voice held him back. "Not you, Nathan. We need to talk."

Bridger frowned as he looked back to meet his old friend’s assessing gaze, but Noyce only folded his hands together at the small of his back and smiled blandly. "It’s business," he said without further elaboration.

Nathan sighed softly and ran one hand through his hair as he turned back to find Kristin looking up at him with a curious expression. "Will you be all right?" he asked in a voice that wasn't nearly as professionally detached as he would have liked.

She nodded exhaustedly. "I’m fine," she assured him as she briefly curled her fingers into the hand he hadn’t even been aware of stretching out to her. A heartbeat later the contact was broken and she slipped out.

Bridger shifted his gaze to Lucas, who was watching it all with an odd look on his face. "Stay close to her, will you?" he asked worriedly.

The teen nodded. "Uh, yeah." He glanced back over his shoulder, picking out the woman’s rapidly retreating back. "I should...uh...go, then," he muttered, barely waiting for Bridger’s nod of approval before he hurried off after the doctor.

When Nathan turned back, Bill Noyce was still staring at him with that same openly appraising look.

"Why don’t you pull the door closed," the secretary general advised.

Nathan tugged the hatch closed and spun the lock, then turned back to face his old friend with a purposely prosaic expression.

The two stood staring at each other like that until finally Noyce snorted softly. "You couldn’t have waited another two days?" he muttered with a certain dry irony.

Bridger’s expression didn’t shift a millimeter. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Noyce snorted and sank back down into his chair. "Nathan," he chided with a trace of humor, "You can barely walk this morning and Doctor Westphalen was no better."

Bridger stiffened and was about to protest, when Noyce waved him silent. "Please don’t...I may not be the brightest guy in the U.E.O., but neither am I the dumbest." He leaned forward and sniffed. "Somehow you just aren’t a rose scented soap kinda guy."

Nathan’s shoulders sagged. "It was that obvious?" he muttered as he massaged the back of his neck.

Noyce’s eyebrows rose on his forehead. "Oh yeah...If you had walked in looking and smelling like that with one of my daughters, I’d have shot you."

Nathan sank down into one of the chairs with a low groan. "This morning, I think that would have been a kindness," he admitted. He leaned forward on his elbows. "So what happens now?" he asked, fully expecting a knock-down, drag-out fight to keep Noyce from removing Kristin from the crew roster.

"Nothing?" the secretary general of the U.E.O. responded with a slight shrug.

"Nothing?" Nathan repeated suspiciously.

"Nathan, as far as I’m concerned, Doctor Westphalen will be reprimanded for drinking alcohol against ship’s rules. You were kind enough, as her captain, to see to her welfare. That’s it?"

"But you obviously don’t believe that."

Noyce shrugged. "If anything else happened, I’d have to remove Doctor Westphalen from this boat," he grumbled. "And I am not doing that...sooo...nothing happened."

Bridger considered this for a moment before commenting. "Bill, you never seemed like that big a fan of the lady’s."

Noyce snorted softly.

Nathan leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "What’s up?"

Bill rapped his fingers against the table. "She was the best candidate to serve as seaQuest’s chief scientist," he hedged.

Nathan nodded, his expression wry as he continued to press. "Right...so what’s the real reason?"

Noyce sighed. "If I throw her off seaQuest, I’ll have to put up with her." His fingers tapped even faster and there was a harassed cast to his look. "Before she took the job on seaQuest, she was damn near to being a professional protester. I had her students in front of my office while she was busy testifying in front of the senate. You can guess what a roomful of senators did when they got a look at the lady...that is, after they stopped trying to look down her blouse and up her skirt. They gave me holy hell in an effort to impress her...and I was only an admiral then. Now, I’d never get rid of her."

Nathan couldn’t help it, he started chuckling. He could just see it. "You hired her to get her out of your hair," he accused through soft laughter.

"Are you complaining?" Noyce shot back defensively. "She’s more than qualified...in a number of fields."

"I’m not complaining," Nathan said quickly and raised his hands in surrender.

Noyce eyed his old friend from head to toe. "I should hope not," he muttered, unintentionally putting a spin on the words.

Nathan raised his eyebrows disapprovingly and Noyce had the good graces to flush.

"I didn’t mean that the way it sounded." Bill admitted. "But," he peered at Nathan curiously, "can I ask you something?"

"Hm?"

"What did she do to you last night?" Noyce asked before he could stop himself, only to shake his head quickly. "I don’t mean the details, I just mean...." He shook his head. "You look like hell."

Nathan shrugged and rubbed his temple lightly with two fingers. "It’s more a case of what didn’t we do," he admitted. He’d never been a man to kiss and tell, but Bill Noyce was his oldest friend in the world and there was a certain masculine need to crow. He let his forehead fall into one hand and held up the other, palm inward, fingers spread wide.

"Five," Noyce croaked. "You’re kidding me, right?"

Bridger shook his without looking up. "If you had asked me yesterday if that were possible, I’d have laughed at you," he groaned.

"My God, Nathan, at your age that could be fatal."

Bridger barely heard the comment as he mused out loud, "Actually, it was closer to five and a half if you count the shower."

"Well, at least she’s a doctor...she knows C.P.R," Noyce sighed.

Nathan heard that one, and he glared at his friend. "I happen to be in excellent shape."

"Yeah," Noyce agreed perfectly deadpan. "I can tell by the limp."

Nathan started to say something only to think better of it. Finally, he just muttered. "Look, if that’s all you needed," He hooked thumb over his shoulder. "I have matters to attend to."

Noyce nodded with a soft sigh as he massaged his temple. "I’ll see if I can smooth things over with the admiral." He pinched the bridge of his nose exhaustedly. "You really would have made my life easier if you could just have waited," he complained.

Bridger shrugged a little embarrassedly as he pushed out of his chair. "It just sort of...happened."

Noyce looked up, his expression skeptical. "Once just happens. When you reach the fifth...er...round, I think it’s a little more than that."

Nathan couldn’t argue with that one, so he just shrugged and started to slip out.

Noyce’s voice pulled his head back around. "Y’know, Nathan, I have a couple of daughters of my own."

"I know, Bill," Bridger murmured impatiently. "I sent the requisite checks for graduations and weddings."

Bill nodded. "What I’m trying to tell you is that old man does not see a successful forty-three year old woman, he sees his little girl." Noyce took a breath and let it out slowly, giving Bridger time to accept that statement.

"Meaning?" Nathan prompted when his friend didn’t immediately continue.

"You’re a protective man. It’s your nature...I haven’t seen you react like that since Jim Trent made a drunken pass at Carol at the Admiral’s ball...and right now, you’re wondering if perhaps Andrew Westphalen either doesn’t love his daughter or doesn’t appreciate her. He does, Nathan. He spent the entire trip here bragging about the lady---big thrill for me, I might add," Noyce added dryly.

"What are you trying to say?" Bridger asked.

"I think he got here and remembered just how dangerous this life can be. The man’s buried one child. You should have a little sympathy for that."

Nathan’s eyes slid away, and he nodded slowly. He knew exactly how harsh a blow that could be. "You think he wants to get her thrown off the seaQuest?’ he half asked, half stated.

Bill shrugged. "Could be. A professorship is a hell of a lot safer than this boat."

"Yeah," Nathan sighed and he half wished that his friend hadn’t reminded him of that particular fact. He massaged the back of his neck. "Look, I really do have to go," he sighed at last.

Noyce nodded and waved him on. After Bridger had left, the secretary general of the U.E.O. sat massaging his temple as he muttered to himself. "You just had to take this job, didn’t you?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the end, Nathan actually did have ship’s matters to attend to so it was several hours before he could look up the doctor. By then, she had given Lucas the slip and ducked away to be alone. He finally found her in the moon pool with Darwin. He pulled up short, watching her with curious eyes.

She was wearing a wetsuit, and standing in the pool with her back to him, while the dolphin circled lazily around her. The vocoder sat on the side of the pool, the high-pitched computer voice translating Darwin’s chirps and clacks as he swam.

"Kristin sad?"

"No," Westphalen said impatiently and slapped a hand lightly against the water to get his attention.

The dolphin only ignored her, gaining momentum as he slid just under the surface of the water. He came up under a nearby rubber ball, and used his beak to bump it to the doctor as the vocoder translated a single word. "Play."

Kristin caught the ball careening toward her face. "We’ll play later," she said more sharply than intended and tucked it under one arm, resting it lightly against her hip as she watched him swim. "Right now, we need to—"

"Kristin sad," Darwin repeated more forcefully.

Kristin sighed softly. "Oh, bloody hell," she muttered.

"Sounds like he’s got a point," Nathan murmured, making his presence known at last. He ambled over to the pool, automatically reaching to run a light hand along Darwin’s head and beak as the dolphin swam over. "You don’t exactly sound like you’re being visited by the bluebird of happiness."

Kristin half turned to face him. "More like the chicken of depression," she replied darkly.

"All this and a Far Side fan too," he teased gently. "How did I resist you this long?"

Kristin ignored the second half of his comment as she responded grimly. "Being a Gary Larson fan is mandatory if you’re in the sciences. Nobody else does amoebae jokes."

Nathan stuffed his hands in his pockets and faced her foul mood undaunted (well, not much anyway). "It could be worse you know?" he commented, drawing an arch look from the woman in the pool. "It could be the black raven of impending doom."

Kristin canted her head to one side. "I’m not certain, but I think doom might be an improvement at the moment."

Nathan sighed softly as he nerved himself up for the question. He had to ask, but he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to know the answer. "So, is it me you’re hiding from or your father?"

The question earned him a dirty look.

Nathan only folded his arms across his chest and met her stare with a cool look of his own, refusing to be intimidated.

Finally, she shrugged one slim shoulder, giving way as she muttered, "A bit of both, I suppose." She tossed the ball for Darwin to chase after, then moved to the edge of the pool, levering herself up to swing her legs over the side so that she was sitting on the low retaining wall.

Nathan passed her the towel that sat nearby and she began patting her face and throat. "All right," he allowed as he watched her dry off. "Let’s start with something I can do something about. Why avoid me?"

The question got him a second dirty look.

"You can just stop that," he said mildly, "because it’s not going to work." He hitched his hip onto the wall next to her and waited.

"All right," Kristin acceded after a long pause. She laced her fingers together, staring down at them as she leaned her elbows against her thighs.

"Still waiting," Nathan prompted when she still hadn't continued several moments later.

She looked over at him. "I’m embarrassed, all right?" she snapped, then sighed softly and pushed wet bangs out of her eyes, using the gesture to gain a little time before she continued. "I got drunk last night and did my damnedest to seduce you...I really don’t normally behave like that."

"You did seduce me," Nathan corrected with a touch of whimsy. "And I don’t recall resisting very hard—"

"You were trying to leave and I—"

"I remember," Bridger murmured with a goofy grin.

Kristin didn’t notice it as she dropped her face into her hands in raw mortification. "I have never done anything like that before in my life," she moaned through her fingers.

"Really, you could have fooled me," Nathan commented idly.

Kristin’s head came up from her hands and she peered at him suspiciously, noting the silly grin with a disapproving look. She punched his arm.

"Ow!" Bridger yelped as he yanked his limb back, massaging the offended spot as he complained. "What did you do that for?"

"You’re laughing at all of this," she snapped, outraged.

Somehow that only made it funnier and the captain of the seaQuest had to work hard to keep from cracking up as he answered. "Oh, come on, step back and look at this situation. It’s funny. We got caught like a couple of teenagers in the back seat of a Chevy. I haven’t been called on the carpet by a woman’s father since I was seventeen and took Mary Ann Hartford home three hours after her curfew because I had a flat."

Kristin dropped her face back into her hands and her shoulders started trembling.

"Oh, God, Kris..." Nathan started to comfort her before he realized she was laughing, not crying. He pulled up short, uncertain how to respond.

"You dated a girl named Mary Ann Hartford?" she snickered when she looked again.

"Yes," he answered carefully.

"Please tell me she didn’t wear gingham or checks," she pleaded as a vision of Mary Ann from Gilligan’s Island swam through her brain.

"No," Nathan said defensively. "Well, not much...actually, she wore a lot of flannel." At Kristin’s questioning look, he shrugged, brows drawing together as he tried to envision the girl he hadn’t thought of in years. "Okay. The truth is, as I look back, she looked a lot like Lucas in drag."

That earned him a really questioning look.

"I don’t mean literally," Nathan corrected himself quickly. "I just meant...she dressed about like he does."

Kristin thought about that for a moment. "All right," she said at last. "I’ll bite...why?"

"I think she was...uh...embarrassed," Nathan responded as he held his hands out in front of his chest in a very indicative gesture.

"Early developer, eh?" Kristin murmured sympathetically.

Nathan shrugged. "Not so much early as...impressively."

"So, hormone obsessed young Nathan Bridger asked her out?"

"Hormones are not what I was obsessed with," Nathan corrected her.

There was a long moment of silence between the two of them.

"Was that what last night was about...hormones?" she asked at last, looking up at him through thick eyelashes.

Nathan reached over, lacing his fingers with hers. "I think we both know better than that," he said with some degree of trepidation. He exhaled a slow sigh, shaking his head a little dazedly as he continued. "Past that, I don’t know the answer to the question you’re asking," he admitted after a brief pause. "Do you?"

She shook her head. "I’m not a good bet," she sighed. "I’ve been married three times and none of them lasted more than four years. I make men crazy."

"I noticed that part," Nathan teased.

"Not that kind of crazy," Kristin denied sadly. "The other kind...the bad kind...I am not an easy person to live with."

"I don’t know," Nathan exhaled as he turned to face her. "I think the pluses would outweigh the minuses." He ducked his head to press a light kiss to her forehead.

"Thus speaketh a man who has never lived with me. I’m a lot like my father," she warned him.

Nathan dropped a kiss on her lips. "Better legs."

"I’m moody...quick tempered...disorganized..." she said, listing her faults between kisses. "Self-centered ... obsessive ... compulsive...never get my...taxes in on time...can’t keep...houseplants...alive...hate ...vacuuming..."

"Grand sins all," Nathan agreed mildly without slowing the steady onslaught of kisses. Eventually, all words gave way to the heady sensations passing between them. Nathan was aware of the damp imprint her wetsuit was leaving against the full length of his uniform, but couldn’t find it in his heart to care very much. As the kisses and caresses went on, he found her front zipper, and tugged it down to slip his hands under the heavy neoprene foam. She wore a thin, one-piece swimsuit underneath, but it was scant barrier to his searching fingers. Their location forgotten in the onslaught of passion, they lost themselves in each other, and were entirely too close to doing something stupid.

It was Darwin who saved them. "Play!" the dolphin chattered suddenly and sent the ball flying with a solid bump. It thumped into Westphalen’s back and she half skidded, half fell into Nathan’s chest.

He winced, groaning loudly as he used already over-stressed muscles to steady her.

"Sorry about that," Kristin apologized when she saw the way he paled at the impact. "Bit stiff, eh?" she sympathized when they were both steady again.

Nathan’s eyebrows climbed high on his forehead.

"I meant your back," Kristin clarified dryly.

"That too," Bridger groaned, then sighed softly as he reached past her to toss the ball out for Darwin. The dolphin chased after if with a happy trill. "Just as well," he murmured. "This is not exactly the ideal place for the...er…activity."

Kristin let out a frustrated laugh as she let her forehead fall against his chest. "We seem to be specializing in that these days," she croaked.

"Right," Nathan panted and curved a hand to the back of her head. "We have got to stop this...at least as long as Bill and your father are aboard. It’s too risky."

"I know." Nodding a little shakily, Kristin tilted her head back to look up at him. "So, your cabin or mine tonight?"

Nathan didn’t even bother to protest. "Mine, I think."

He was still pale and Kristin caught his shoulders, pushing him to face away from her with the quick instruction, "Turn ‘round."

Deciding it was safer that way, Nathan did as told, moaning softly a moment later as she began to massage his shoulders with strong hands. She knew what she was doing and he soon felt the painfully knotted muscles relax. "By the way," he said after several minutes in an effort to distract his brain from the images her hands were conjuring with each stroke.

"Hm?"

"I thought you might like to know that Bill isn’t going to make any noises about...well...us..."

"I already knew that," she said ironically. "If he did, he’d have to throw me off seaQuest...then he’d have put up with me again...something I suspect he’d like to avoid at all costs."

"You know about that?" he murmured, sounding a little startled.

"Good lord, Nathan, I tortured the man for better than a year before he hired me for this position. He can’t be too anxious to see me on dry land again. Mind you, I think his chosen method of revenge is a bit childish."

"Revenge?" Nathan questioned, audibly startled. "Bill?"

"Mmhm...he keeps leaving notes in my email about owing the U.E.O. for those blasted torpedoes I used on the volcano."

Nathan chuckled. "Sounds like Bill," he admitted. "You’re lucky he hasn’t sent you an invoice demanding payment."

"He has," she sighed disgustedly. "You should have heard the panic in my accountant’s voice when he called to find out what that was about." Despite her obvious irritation there was a thread of humor in her voice.

They both fell silent for long minutes as Kristin worked her way down his back, working magic on his abused muscles.

"So, have you and your father always had so many problems?" Nathan asked suddenly.

Kristin’s hands momentarily stilled on his back, then abruptly dug in again. Bridger flinched as she pressed her thumb into a particularly sensitive point. He jerked away, and twisted to meet her eyes. "If I retract the question, will you let me live?"

She growled something impolite under her breath, tugging him back to restart the massage with surprisingly gentle hands. "My father and I never really got along, but it’s gotten worse since James died."

Bridger was surprised by the admission but he remained silent, simply listening as she continued.

"Some days I don’t think any of us have really dealt with...with what happened, but father..." she trailed off. "I know he wishes I wasn’t aboard seaQuest."

"Bill mentioned he thought that might be the case," Nathan said carefully.

"Full marks for Noyce," Kristin sighed. "I suspect a great deal of yesterday’s and this morning’s show was an attempt to cause a scene and push Noyce into throwing me off the science team." She paused for a moment, and he had the sense that she was trying to find a way to say something she didn’t even admit to herself very often. "He always makes me feel like an ensign...and a relatively inept one at that," she admitted at last.

Nathan spun to face her. "Inept?" he repeated in a shocked voice, his sore back completely forgotten in the wake of her confession. He cupped her face in his hands. "Are you out of your mind?" he demanded only half sarcastically. "You’re the least inept human being I know. You have an alphabet’s worth of letters after your name, a permanent position at a prestigious university, god only knows how many publishing credits, you’re a valued member of this crew..." He shook his head, wanting to take the uncertainty from her eyes and not knowing how. He leaned his forehead against hers as he worked his hands through her hair, freeing it from the tie at the nape of her neck. The still-damp strands slipped over his knuckles like loose threads of the finest silk. "You have the secretary general of the U.E.O. completely cowed," he added with a trace of mirth.

Kristin chuckled a little hopelessly. "Please, that one wasn’t even difficult," she dismissed, then tipped her head back to look up at him. "Still interested now that you know I’m a raving mass of insecurities?" she exhaled.

Nathan leaned down to kiss her slowly, exploring her mouth as he massaged her temples lightly with his thumbs. "Does that answer your question?" he panted when he finally broke the kiss.

Westphalen nodded her head, her expression a little dazed. "I think so," she breathed.

He dropped another kiss on her lips. "I have to go. I promised Jonathan I wouldn’t be long," he said by way of explanation. He tucked a finger under her chin. "Will you be all right?"

"Nathan, I'm an adult."

"That’s not what I asked."

"I’m fine," she assured him.

"Okay," he allowed and pressed his lips lightly to her forehead before turning to leave.

"Nathan," her voice caught him at the door and he turned back to face her. "Change your uniform before you go back to the bridge."

Bridger looked down, noting the rather prominent damp spots left by her wetsuit with a raised brow. "Good idea," he agreed, then winked and hurried out.

Kristin folded one leg up, resting her chin on her upthrust knee as she stared into the distance. A slight smile curved her lips.

"Kristin not sad now?" Darwin commented as he suddenly reappeared.

Kristin glanced over at the dolphin, wondering how much he understood of what had happened between she and Nathan. "No," she sighed agreeably and dangled a hand in the water to pat his thrusting beak. "Not sad at all."

"Good," Darwin clacked as he slid on past her. "Play now." The rubber ball thudded into the back of Kristin’s head then dropped back into the pool.

Rubbing her skull, the doctor twisted to face the dolphin’s perpetual grin. "Play now," she agreed as she swung her legs around and slid into the water.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Whoops," Lucas yelped and started to pivot back around the instant he realized there was already someone in Kristin’s office.

"Halt!" the order wasn’t precisely barked, but it stopped Lucas mid-turn. He glanced back over his shoulder at the rather lost looking man standing in the middle of the small room.

Andrew Westphalen was standing perfectly straight, his hands clasped at the small of his back. His dark eyes started at Lucas’ sneaker-shod feet and wound up at the top of his admittedly shaggy head. Somewhere during the journey, his gaze touched for a long moment on the gauze bandage wrapped around the teen’s hand and wrist.

Lucas found himself mentally debating the merits of simply making a break for it.

"Young man," the admiral began.

Yep, Lucas decided, definitely shoulda just run for cover.

"It seems I owe you an apology."

Ford could have landed a launch in Lucas’ mouth as his jaw dropped. "Sir?" he croaked.

The admiral looked distinctly uncomfortable. "The incident yesterday was my fault."

Lucas’ jaw dropped another notch. It was up to two launches and counting.

"You were injured due to my behavior and I find that personally unacceptable."

Another notch: three launches.

"I’ve read your record, and while I may not approve of your comportment, you are obviously a valued member of this crew. As such, I had no right to treat you with such disrespect."

An uncountable number of notches and a berth for the entire seaQuest later, the old man straightened his spine and moved to step past Lucas. "I was going to speak to my daughter, but she seems to be...elsewhere," he said as much to himself as Lucas.

"Wait, sir," the teen said before the smarter part of his brain engaged.

The admiral halted and glanced back over his shoulder at the youth.

"Maybe it’s not me you owe an apology to," Lucas said softly.

Westphalen stiffened. "I doubt my daughter cares whether I apologize or not," he clipped, a bleak note underlying his words.

"I think you’re wrong, sir," Lucas disagreed.

"Well, it wouldn’t be anything new, according to my daughter," the admiral exhaled tersely. "Now, if you’ll excuse me," he said before Lucas could speak again. His manner left no opening for the teen to say anything more, so he only watched helplessly as the man strode out of the room.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ /////\\\\\\ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Bill Noyce had arranged ahead for a reception to be thrown for the seaQuest’s star guest that evening, and as it got underway, it rapidly became apparent that this was not necessarily a good idea. The senior officers from the seaQuest were in attendance as were the senior members of the science crew, but it was far from the pleasant affair Noyce had been hoping for. The guest of honor sat in one corner, glaring at the assembled officers while Bridger avoided him by positioning himself near the opposite wall. Kristin Westphalen, meanwhile, was staying as far away from both Nathan and her father as was possible without actually leaving the boat.

Which left the rest of the crew milling around. The scuttlebutt concerning the captain and the doctor had obviously circulated and no one knew what to say or do, leaving the photographer hard-pressed to get any shots of anyone other than Krieg smiling.

Noyce frowned and stared down into his drink. He took another sip. At least the wine, an older Bordeaux, was a good year. He peered over the edge of the glass just as Kristin Westphalen crossed into his line of vision again and he found himself unable to keep from staring. "Five," he mumbled thoughtfully, then shook his head. Okay, so she had a good body, which was very nicely revealed by the blue silk dress she was wearing. She also had a good brain, as was evidenced by a set of credentials doctors twice her age would kill for. The problem, as Bill saw it, was she also had a mouth that could deliver a solid upper cut to man’s ego at a distance of fifty paces. Still.… He noted the way the silk clung in all the right places. And there was something about her eyes.... Noyce saw her glance toward Nathan and the chemistry that arced between the two was electric. Yeah, that looked like enough energy to light a man up to a suicidal degree.

Across the room, Kristin noted Bill Noyce’s speculative gaze on her again and flashed a glare his direction. His eyes snapped away quickly. A little too quickly and guiltily in her opinion. She’d been avoiding Nathan all evening in an effort to maintain the peace, but she suddenly slipped through the crowd.

Bridger was talking to Jonathan Ford. The commander looked up, eyes meeting Kristin’s. He glanced at the captain and Westphalen nodded. Taking his cue, Ford ducked his head and disappeared into the crowd.

Nathan arched an eyebrow as he took a sip from his wine glass. "Your father is glaring," he commented in a low voice.

"Good, it will keep him entertained."

A grin played at Nathan’s mouth as he tilted his head to one side in acknowledgment. "That’s one way of looking at it," he allowed.

Kristin shrugged one shoulder. "You have to learn to view these things philosophically," she said softly, then took a sip from her drink.

Nathan noted it and raised a questioning eyebrow.

Kristin shook her head. "Perrier and lime," she said by way of explanation. "After last night, it seemed best. May I ask you something?"

"Hm?"

"Bill Noyce has been staring at me all evening. You wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?"

Nathan coughed as though his drink had stung the back of his throat. "No idea," he responded a little too innocently.

"I see," Kristin said simply, but there was a suspicious note to her low voice. "What did you say to him?" she questioned a moment later.

Nathan coughed again. "Umm..." he mumbled when he could speak again. "I don’t know what—"

"Nathan," the doctor exhaled his name on a warning note. "Do you know one of the things I’ve always found very attractive about you?" she asked, changing the subject in an altogether too sweet voice.

"My eyes?" Bridger said hopefully.

Westphalen shook her head and a dangerous smile curved her lips. "Your survival instinct. Now what did you say?"

Nathan shrugged. "Not much," he exhaled defensively.

"Nathan."

"Just a number," he admitted nervously.

Kristin didn’t explode the way he half expected, just sighed softly and shook her head. "Why do men feel the need to do that?"

"It’s a chromosomal thing?" he offered, only half joking.

"I mean it. Why is it the male of the species just has to keep track of the numbers like my accountant at tax time?"

Bridger shook his head in quick denial. "It’s not that. It’s more like climbing Mount Everest. When you get to the top, you have to tell someone."

"And here I thought you were civilized," Kristin sighed almost inaudibly.

"I am civilized, "Nathan argued almost instantly. At her arch look, he shrugged. "Still male though."

Kristin rolled her eyes and took another sip from her glass.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked after a moment. "Or should I plan on sleeping alone tonight?"

"No to both questions."

"Win some, lose some," Nathan murmured, but didn’t look especially upset by her answer. As long as she made it to his cabin, he was confident of his ability to cajole a little forgiveness out of her.

"Plan on losing quite a few when I see you later tonight," Westphalen commented, a devilish look in her eyes.

Nathan swallowed hard and found himself wondering whether he should be eager or afraid. "Hopefully, I’ll win for losing," he responded at last.

One corner of Kristin’s lips turned up in genuine mirth. "One never knows..."

Suddenly Nathan stiffened. "Your father seems to be headed this way."

"Wonderful," the doctor breathed, then took another sip of drink. She suddenly regretted not getting something stronger---a lot stronger.

Perhaps it was a lifetime of naval service or perhaps it was the fact that he was sleeping with the man’s daughter, but Nathan’s spine suddenly snapped a little straighter. The admiral noticed the movement and pinned a gaze on Nathan that reminded him of the look Carol’s father had given him when they’d announced their marriage plans. He’d felt about twelve then and he felt about twelve now. He also wondered what it was about his personality that seemed to set off the fathers of the women in his life. He really didn’t consider himself all that disreputable a character.

Kristin took another sip from her glass as the old man drew near.

The senior Westphalen had obviously gotten the better of his temper during the day, though a hint of it still loitered in his dark eyes. "Captain," he said with artificial courtesy.

"Admiral," Nathan responded politely. He found it rather amazing that despite the crowd, the three of them were suddenly alone. Amazingly, his crew was suddenly crowded together on the opposite end of the room, trying desperately to look like they weren’t listening when they obviously were. Cowards.

"Father," Kristin murmured over the edge of her glass, a warning note threaded through her low voice.

The admiral glanced at his daughter and Nathan noted something he suspected his lover didn’t see, a fair measure of respect. "Kristin," the old man said, his voice equally low. He took a deep breath and Nathan had the sense that he was nerving himself up for something. "I merely wished to apologize for the scene this morning. You are obviously an adult." The apology came out like someone was pulling teeth without the benefit of an anesthetic, but he did say the words. "You may do whatever you like in your private life."

"How kind of you to note that," the doctor murmured.

"Kristin," Nathan chided gently.

She gave him a look that warned him to stay out of it while her father turned to Nathan with an expression of unwanted gratitude. "Captain, if I might speak to my daughter alone?"

Bridger was far from certain it was a good idea, but under the circumstances he didn’t really have much choice without making a scene. He ducked his head in acknowledgment and turned a look that was intended to be half supportive, half warning on his chief scientist, then moved to join the rest of the cowards on the other end of the room.

The admiral watched him go, then turned his gaze back on his daughter. "Do you love him?" he asked straight out.

"I don’t know," Kristin answered honestly. "I might."

"Don’t you think you might be a bit wiser to get past ‘I might’ before you—"

"Don’t you think it might be wiser to assume that I might have some idea of what I’m doing?" she demanded.

"Yes, you’ve done so well with men so far."

Kristin started to respond hotly, but caught herself and counted to ten, before continuing. "Captain Bridger happens to be an extraordinary man," she defended her captain and lover. "Anything else about our relationship is between he and I."

"But he’s not honest enough to admit he’s sleeping with you," the admiral fired back.

The doctor took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an effort to keep from saying several things. "Bloody hell," she muttered at last. "Why do I even bother to try?"

Westphalen senior started to say something, then snapped his mouth shut. "I have apologized," he intoned forbiddingly, "as I saw fit."

"Indeed, you have. Pity, you couldn’t find it in your heart to have just a little bit of faith in me," she exhaled heavily.

Both of them were tense and glaring. They sat on a precipice and it was momentarily questionable which way they would jump; over the cliff and into an all out screaming match or back down the mountainside and to opposite corners.

It was Kristin who finally decided the matter. She glanced down at her now empty glass where a half a lime swirled around the bottom. "If you’ll excuse me, I need to freshen my drink."

The admiral merely ducked his head in acknowledgment as she moved away.

Nathan joined her as an ensign was pouring her another drink. He was grateful to see that it was another Perrier. "You okay?" he asked simply.

"Fine," she clipped without elaborating.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "The last time you gave that answer, you were well on your way to intoxication."

Kristin took her drink and they moved away from the suddenly nervous looking ensign.

Nathan was aware of both Noyce and Andrew Westphalen (as well as the rest of the crew) watching them, but ignored it in favor of concentrating on her. "He’s trying, Kris," he reminded her.

She speared him with a look. "The question is...to do what?" she agreed pithily.

"I doubt he knows the answer to that any better than you do," Nathan sighed a little sadly.

"Well, I’m not going to worry about it," Kristin decided out loud. "After all, this is a party. We’re supposed to be having fun."

Bridger debated several comments and discarded all of them. Finally, he sighed softly and settled on a change of subject, asking her about an experiment. That worked to distract her and allowed the evening to pass with a modicum of civility between all involved.

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