—- Sánchez Wines, Outside Mexico City —-

Andrés Sánchez shielded his eyes as he looked across the vineyards. The vineyards had been in his family for centuries, and they still picked the grapes manually even as automated methods had become more common place. Now it was possible to manage an entire winery with a handful of employees if he so choose, but instead he adhered to the old ways just as his father had and those that had come before him.

He spotted the Captain’s Yacht of the USS Luna, helped by the fact that he had been expecting it. He’d served as the First Officer aboard the USS Seattle, alongside his half-sister Captain Adrian Cruz. They’d found each other later in life, when Cruz had discovered that she had had a father who was the owner of a winery. The discovery had changed each other’s lives in a lot of ways, though Sánchez had retired from Starfleet shortly afterwards to focus on running his father’s winery. Now his sister only stopped by when she could even though he’d tried encouraging her to follow his path to focus on the winery.

The yacht kicked up dust as it touched down on the Winery’s pad. Wiping his hands on a cloth he headed towards it as the door opened and his sister descended followed by another woman of similar age and a man, who he recognized only from the staff files that Cruz had forwarded him. When the trio had left the shuttle he raised his arms in welcome.

”Adriana, it’s good to see you sister,” he said loudly.

Cruz smiled and waved, still not used to being a part of the extended Sánchez family, or a part owner of this property and winery. She nodded at the two other Starfleet wearing officers who accompanied her.

”Andrés this is Commander Olivia Carrillo and Lieutenant Pierre Lambert,” Cruz said making introductions. 

Sánchez nodded, and refrained from complementing Commander Carrillo’s physical appearance, as he’d been told before hand by his sister that she was dating the pale French man beside her. Instead he smiled, happy to play the gracious host.

”Of course Miss Carrillo and Mister Lambert,” he said, “A pleasure to meet you.”

”I’ve never been to a winery,“ Lambert said glancing towards the fields of grapes.

”A well this is a humble one,” Sánchez said modestly, somewhat surprised that the French man had never been to a winery. He had been under the impression that most French people lived on wineries. 

Cruz shook her head, “He’s being modest, this is the best winery I’ve been to.”

”Well you’ve not been to many wineries,” Sánchez said teasingly.

That night they ate a platter of tacos and were enjoying mojitos on the patio watching as the sun set. When Commander Carrillo and Lieutenant Lambert went for a walk Sánchez leaned back, offering his sister a cigar she waved it off as they sat and watched the sun go down.

”Thank you for not hitting on my First Officer,” Cruz said taking a sip of her drink. Not having to limit herself to synthahol was nice and the drink had a real bite to it.

“A beautiful Latina woman,” Sánchez said, “Perfect for building a family with. Too bad the Frenchman met her first. What’s his deal?”

”He’s from the past, got sent through a spacial anomaly,” Cruz explained.

”That explains why he’s never been on a winery,” he said.

”I don’t think so, I don’t know much about wineries but I think they had them in France for centuries,” Cruz said.

”I know, I was just kidding,“ Sánchez said.

”Besides one of my First Officers already quit to live on this winery,” Cruz said, “I can’t lose another one. Starfleet is going to start thinking I’m doing something to drive them away.”

About an acre away Lambert and Carrillo were walking. His pale hand in her darker tan one, fingers intertwined. 

“How are you finding Earth now,” she asked him.

”It’s different,” he said, “I left right after I graduated from Starfleet Academy, so it’s been awhile since I’ve been back, but it’s changed. That Stardock we passed was impressive. It’s hotter, but then I’m in Mexico not France.”

”We’ll take a side trip to France,” Carrillo said, patting his arm, “and New York.”

Lambert nodded, “Sounds good. I don’t like wine enough to stay here too long. As much as I appreciate the Captain inviting us.”

As they walked through the fields of grapes, and headed back to the main house the sun dipped and disappeared swallowed up by the horizon and the ocean. After exchanging pleasantries and talking the pair were lead to guest rooms in the main house. 

It was sun up when Sánchez awoke. He now got up earlier than he used to when he lived on a starship, with early morning work to be done around the vineyard. One thing he’d taken from his time in Starfleet was that you didn’t ask your subordinates to do something you’d not be willing to do yourself. He was not the best at picking the grapes or tilling the soil but there was a boost that the rest of his crew got from seeing him working alongside them.

Exiting the kitchen with a cup of coffee, black of course, he saw Olivia Carrillo watching the sun rise while seated on the steps from the patio down to the path towards the vineyard. He sat next to her.

”Olivia, I thought you would be stealing a few more hours of sleep on your time off,” he said taking a sip of the strong coffee he’d prepared.

She glanced at him and then back towards the rising sun in the East, “I had a dream and woke up. About Fleet Day.”

”Ah,” Andrés said nodding, many Starfleet officers had a story and while he did not know hers he had a guess that if it woke her up it was not pleasant.

”This will be the first time I go home, since my brother’s funeral,” Carrillo said, “I don’t know, don’t know how I will fit into my family without him.”

Andrés was silent and nodded, taking his time before speaking, “I do now know… my mother believes that everything happens for a reason. But I think rather we adapt, we make reason out of the best and worst situations. We learn to live wherever we find ourselves. I think your family while they might hurt for their loss, would want to see you.”

Carrillo looked down at the wooden step, “Yeah.”

”They lost a son, and a brother on Fleet Day, only you can ensure they don’t also lose their daughter and sister,” Sánchez said patting her leg.

There was quiet, and then Carrillo spoke, “Thank you. I can’t talk to Lambert about this because, while he’s sympathetic he has never met the Borg. And he lost everyone when his ship went through the anomaly that sent him here.“

”Our loss can defines us as much as our success,” he said, “But don’t forget your successes as well. You are a good officer, my sister would not have made you her First Officer if you were not.”

—- New York City —-

It was sometimes tempting to think that Pierre Lambert was new to not only the 25th century but also the future. He was not surprised by the shuttles wizzing around New York and while much of the architecture had changed he was not a native New Yorker and did not realize it was that different from the 23rd century that he’d left. Carrillo lead him up the steps of her brownstone, made to look like they had looked in the 20th century, and by now a century old as well.

The home was crowded and children pushed and rushed to the door to say hello to a favorite aunt. Generations of Carrillos seemed to have gathered and crowded the door shouting greetings. The only one not part of the extended family Lambert felt out of place, smiling politely as everyone said hello.

”I’m Lieutenant… I mean Pierre Lambert,” he said once the greeting of Olivia had been done, shaking an older man’s hand who he took for the Commander’s father. 

”You the past kid?” the senior Carrillo asked looking at him.

”I am from the past,” the Frenchman nodded.

The older man was quiet then smiled, “Well welcome to the family, come on in both of you.”

Lambert stole a glance at the Commander who was engaged in a discussion with a younger version of herself, likely a sister or cousin. A boy about six ran up to Lambert and demanded, “Do you know Captain Kirk?”

It was a question that he got a lot in this century but this time Lambert lied, “Yes, we’re good friends.”

He had never met Captain Kirk and barely knew of him except now trying to catch up on the history that he had missed. Still he figured that there was little harm in telling a white lie to a child. He was introduced to a flurry of sisters, brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles, and parents. He envied Captain Cruz who had remained in Mexico.

The older man, the Commander’s father, was talking to him, “Oh a I saw the USS Titan once, I was an ensign on Deep Space Nine. Do you know it?”

”I don’t,” confessed Lambert, not sure if he was meant to know the station or the ship.

”Luna-class just like yours, pretty sight,” the man said, “When Olivia said she was going to be serving on the Luna, well I knew she was alright. So when are you going to ask her to marry you?”

Lambert chocked on his beer that he’d been given, and managed to sputter, “Umm, I don’t have a date yet.”

The man laughed at his discomfort, “Get one, you won’t find many women like my daughter in all the futures you’ll find.”

Lambert was not quite sure what that meant, and wondered if the translation was good between the Spanish that the family was talking and the French that he was most comfortable with. He smiled and nodded, not quite sure how to handle that. Though long ago his family, like the Carrillos had been Catholic and thus large and boisterous he was still not quite sure how to proceed.

”Dad don’t pressure him,” Olivia said pulling Lambert away by the arm, “I don’t even want kids.”

”Kids?“ Lambert said as they went out into the small backyard.

”I do, actually, but that’s not your worry,” Olivia said.

Lambert smiled, “It is if we’re together. But we have time to decide that. Your family is nice.”

”Chaotic,” Olivia laughed, “But yes it’s nice to be home. Even without my brother here, it’s home.”

“Sometimes it’s home that reminds us who we are,” Lambert said, “And sometimes it’s the unknown.”

Carrillo kissed him, “Shut up and let’s go talk to my mother.”