An easy, warm light slid between the cracks of a curtain, bathing a humble little room in reflected light. The sun was quick to rise today, marking the early days of summer in the Kendra Province. Outside the little house, critters scurried and chirped at each other, insects buzzed from one flower to the next, and the little suburban neighborhood came alive as people headed either into Jalandra for work, or out towards the Kendra Valley for time spent with nature.

Unfortunately, the sun was also disturbing someone much less quick to rise. As the light bore down on the sleeping figures in the quaint little room’s quaint little bed, one groaned and squished against her other half, absorbing the body heat radiating from the other’s back like a sponge soaking in water.

“Someone’s not ready for the day,” a soft and melodic voice mused, Erces-Lebasque Aniria taking a moment to reach behind herself and tousle her wife’s hair.

“… mmmmmf… five more minutes…”

“Lovebug, the shuttle doesn’t leave until five in the afternoon. It’s barely seven in the morning.”

“… good,” Hazel Erces-Lebasque muttered, smushing her face even further into Aniria’s shoulderblades as if she intended on merging with her back. “If we’re not on active duty yet, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Who’s telling you to get up?”

“… sun.”

A quiet snicker of laughter left Aniria’s lips as she turned around, wrapping her arms around Hazel and pressing their forehead together. “I told you we needed to get thicker curtains. You were the one who got them because they looked pretty.”

“… well, they do.”

“Mhmm. And they don’t keep the sun out, do they? And now you’re waking up at the ass-crack of dawn with the sun in your eyes.” Aniria’s body shuddered against Hazel’s with barely-contained laughter, and she pecked a quick kiss to her forehead. “But since we’re up, might as well get ready. I’ll go make us breakfast.”

Hazel offered little in protest beyond a quiet “awwwh” as Aniria rose, only flipping into the spot in the bed where she’d once been. Warm… so toasty warm.

Two hours later, and Hazel staggered into the kitchen like the living dead, made a beeline for the coffee pot, poured a still-hot cup of black coffee, downed it in a minute flat, and only then finally said, “It feels so strange, without her here.”

Aniria, finishing the last of her muffin- “making breakfast” had naturally meant “replicating fast food”- tossed one to Hazel with a casual underhand, unsurprised as the other caught it in midair. “It really does, doesn’t it?” she mused, the chair creaking underneath her as she stood up. “I’m sure AJ’s already off trouncing through your mother’s backyard, poking around for frogs and snakes and halfway tempted to stick her head in the mud.”

Hazel snickered quietly, a very specific memory of their daughter coming to mind- three years old, just two inches from pitching headfirst into the bayou because she’d seen a fish. That girl was going to be a biologist when she grew up, she had a sneaking feeling about that. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll be getting messages from her in a few days. A whole camera roll of her with a hundred little bayou creatures.”

“She is a bayou creature,” Aniria laughed, pausing only to wash her coffee cup, the roar of the sink’s water running taking the silence that would’ve fallen and beating it with a shovel for the short time it took for her to finish. “Speaking of messages… any word where we’re going next?”

“Yeah, actually. Got an update last night.” Hazel dropped her PADD on the table and slid it over. “Bit roomier than De Haven, I’ve gotta say.”

“Everything’s roomier than De Haven. That little escort felt like being crammed in a supply closet.”

“And you’d know everything about being that, Missus I Kissed My Future Wife In The School Janitor’s Closet?”

“Shut up,” the Bajoran squeaked out through her wheeze of laughter, a grin stretching from ear to ear as she picked up the PADD. A glance down at the screen, and laughter faded to curiosity. “A Reliant?”

“She’s still bigger than De Haven.”

“Everything’s bigger than De Haven, Hazel.” Aniria tapped the screen, bringing up the ship’s service record and leaning against the counter as she perused it. “Not quite eight years old, but she’s been in the yards for a year and a half. Collision with a freighter… damn. At least she missed Frontier Day.”

“And with everything going on, she’s only just now getting a concerted effort to get back into service,” Hazel added, swirling a second mug of coffee- even though it was just as plain black as the first cup. “Old Earth sailors have a lot of superstitions about ships, and I’m not really one for them… but I got an itchy feeling she’s not gonna be all sunshine and rainbows.”

Aniria tossed the PADD back to her, again unsurprised when Hazel snatched it out of the air. “Old Earth had superstitions for mirrors, love. She’ll be a good little ship. Reliants always are, and Omaha here will be no different.”

Misgivings aside, Hazel couldn’t discount her wife’s enthusiasm. Still, she cracked a smile, laying the PADD on the counter and taking a long swig of her second coffee. “You’re just happy she’s got more science labs and sensor equipment than De Haven did.”

“I’m just happy she’s got more room. Neither of us are very big people and I was still getting claustrophobia in that ship.” With a shake of her head and a quiet chuckle, Aniria started heading for the door. “I’m gonna get started on packing. Someone’s got to get the pictures loaded up without breaking the frames, after all.”

“Aye aye, Lieutenant Closet-Kisser.”

“Finish your damn bean juice, Lieutenant Got Kissed In A Closet.”

And despite the fact that there was one less person in the Erces-Lebasque household now, the building was filled with raucous laughter. One last laugh as a loving goodbye… at least, until next shore leave.

Somewhere, Hazel could almost feel AJ asking Gramma when that’d be.