Natasha moved around the quarters putting the last few things under the tree and generally just puttering around. As the Captian, Dante had to set a good example. Everyone wanted Christmas off except for the few species of crew that did not celebrate the day. Since they were all on the same ship, Dante always ran the holidays with a skeleton crew. A simple flip of the red alert button would bring everyone running in an emergency but someone still needed to man the helm. Dante had stayed with her and Oscar until their son drifted off to sleep but then went to cover the graveyard shift on the bridge. It was not the first time Natasha had let her mind wander back to when they were younger and just took the entire month to spend the holiday without any added responsibility. As she made her way around their quarters, she picked up an image of her and Dante from their time at the academy.

She ran her fingers over the image and smiled. They might be twenty years older, but the sentiment between them was strong as ever. Adjusting a bow on the gift for the tenth time, she looked over at the kitchen table debating if she should go to bed or wait for Dante to come back home. Without Oscar, she would have stayed up all night but Christmas with kids was very different than Christmas as a couple. Kids wanted things and were far more persistent in getting their needs met even at seven in the morning. Moving to the table, she picked up her drink and the PaDD sitting there. She would give it another hour and clean up some of her work which had piled up to an almost overwhelming level. Opening the first chart, she took one look at the results and threw the PaDD down. Glancing at the bedrooms, Natasha stood up and headed to the door. It was a ship. What could possibly go wrong?

As she reached the turbo, impatience began to creep into her psyche. Tapping her hands on her thighs she almost willed for the turbo to move faster. As the doors slipped open, Natasha turned her body sideways squishing through them as they opened. This caused her to stumble onto the bridge as if she was pushed bodily from the turbo.

“Dante,” she said trying to find her feet as she moved towards his form in the Captain’s seat. Ignoring everyone else on the bridge, Natasha jumped into his arms as if she were the wild cat cadet he met years earlier. “To quote Kelly…You slipped the puck past the goalie,” she laughed and kissed him as if the impromptu display of affection was not being witnessed by the entire crew.

Natasha Knight.