The Craes/Lars - House Call

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD

Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD

Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

Minas Crae was the Betazoid to answer the door to his home and he had a feeling such a visit would happen but he hadn't known when. In fact he hadn't known to which magnitude either. However, he had a young boy in the house and only the boy and Megan were infected because they were infected on purpose and he thought the suits were a little overboard--that they might scare Sareth.

"The air here is fine to breathe, please come in," he said politely, standing back to let the three enter his house. "Surely our own government would never allow its Ambassadors to become infected. Luckily, though, a cure is on its way so we can all eventually put this awful matter behind us. And you all are?"

He could read their minds and he planned to, skimming over their surface thoughts already, but he honestly just wanted to hear what they had to say. Minas understood that other cultures and species had other customs and he wanted more than anything to make sure that they all felt somewhat comfortable--that meant answering for themselves. Besides, he had a feeling that one of them was one of the men he had been looking forward to meeting...

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD

Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

Minas Crae was the Betazoid to answer the door to his home and he had a feeling such a visit would happen but he hadn't known when. In fact he hadn't known to which magnitude either. However, he had a young boy in the house and only the boy and Megan were infected because they were infected on purpose and he thought the suits were a little overboard--that they might scare Sareth.

"The air here is fine to breathe, please come in," he said politely, standing back to let the three enter his house. "Surely our own government would never allow its Ambassadors to become infected. Luckily, though, a cure is on its way so we can all eventually put this awful matter behind us. And you all are?"

He could read their minds and he planned to, skimming over their surface thoughts already, but he honestly just wanted to hear what they had to say. Minas understood that other cultures and species had other customs and he wanted more than anything to make sure that they all felt somewhat comfortable--that meant answering for themselves. Besides, he had a feeling that one of them was one of the men he had been looking forward to meeting...

Lars hesitated for a moment, then tore off his rebreather and gestured to his subordinates, who grudgingly tapped their helmets to retract them into the suits, revealing a bored looking human and a fidgety Tiburonian. The two slung their rifles and leaned against the wall in the entry hall, conversing in low voices as Lars stepped forward to address Minas.

"Lars Janssen, Starfleet Intelligence. I'm here to check up on Lieutenant Crae," he offered, trying to sound as professional as possible. "Starfleet Diplomatic is anxious to know her condition." That was only because he'd contacted them about it, to give himself a pretense to check up on her. "She's, uh, a valuable asset to them and they're quite concerned," Lars murmured hastily, nervous about revealing his personal interest in all this.

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD

Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

Minas Crae was the Betazoid to answer the door to his home and he had a feeling such a visit would happen but he hadn't known when. In fact he hadn't known to which magnitude either. However, he had a young boy in the house and only the boy and Megan were infected because they were infected on purpose and he thought the suits were a little overboard--that they might scare Sareth.

"The air here is fine to breathe, please come in," he said politely, standing back to let the three enter his house. "Surely our own government would never allow its Ambassadors to become infected. Luckily, though, a cure is on its way so we can all eventually put this awful matter behind us. And you all are?"

He could read their minds and he planned to, skimming over their surface thoughts already, but he honestly just wanted to hear what they had to say. Minas understood that other cultures and species had other customs and he wanted more than anything to make sure that they all felt somewhat comfortable--that meant answering for themselves. Besides, he had a feeling that one of them was one of the men he had been looking forward to meeting...

Lars hesitated for a moment, then tore off his rebreather and gestured to his subordinates, who grudgingly tapped their helmets to retract them into the suits, revealing a bored looking human and a fidgety Tiburonian. The two slung their rifles and leaned against the wall in the entry hall, conversing in low voices as Lars stepped forward to address Minas.

"Lars Janssen, Starfleet Intelligence. I'm here to check up on Lieutenant Crae," he offered, trying to sound as professional as possible. "Starfleet Diplomatic is anxious to know her condition." That was only because he'd contacted them about it, to give himself a pretense to check up on her. "She's, uh, a valuable asset to them and they're quite concerned," Lars murmured hastily, nervous about revealing his personal interest in all this.

Minas smiled and nodded. "She is upstairs but I suggest one visitor at a time. She's a bit weak, Commander Janssen, so use your best judgment."

He had a good idea of why the man was here and he wasn't about to deny Megan a visit from him at all because he knew how she felt. Minas was a caring man and as protective as he was he honored his daughters' choices. So, he pointed up the stairs of their large estate.

"Second door on the right as you turn left at the top of the stairs," he instructed slowly. "After, you can stay for dinner."

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD

Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

Minas Crae was the Betazoid to answer the door to his home and he had a feeling such a visit would happen but he hadn't known when. In fact he hadn't known to which magnitude either. However, he had a young boy in the house and only the boy and Megan were infected because they were infected on purpose and he thought the suits were a little overboard--that they might scare Sareth.

"The air here is fine to breathe, please come in," he said politely, standing back to let the three enter his house. "Surely our own government would never allow its Ambassadors to become infected. Luckily, though, a cure is on its way so we can all eventually put this awful matter behind us. And you all are?"

He could read their minds and he planned to, skimming over their surface thoughts already, but he honestly just wanted to hear what they had to say. Minas understood that other cultures and species had other customs and he wanted more than anything to make sure that they all felt somewhat comfortable--that meant answering for themselves. Besides, he had a feeling that one of them was one of the men he had been looking forward to meeting...

Lars hesitated for a moment, then tore off his rebreather and gestured to his subordinates, who grudgingly tapped their helmets to retract them into the suits, revealing a bored looking human and a fidgety Tiburonian. The two slung their rifles and leaned against the wall in the entry hall, conversing in low voices as Lars stepped forward to address Minas.

"Lars Janssen, Starfleet Intelligence. I'm here to check up on Lieutenant Crae," he offered, trying to sound as professional as possible. "Starfleet Diplomatic is anxious to know her condition." That was only because he'd contacted them about it, to give himself a pretense to check up on her. "She's, uh, a valuable asset to them and they're quite concerned," Lars murmured hastily, nervous about revealing his personal interest in all this.

Minas smiled and nodded. "She is upstairs but I suggest one visitor at a time. She's a bit weak, Commander Janssen, so use your best judgment."

He had a good idea of why the man was here and he wasn't about to deny Megan a visit from him at all because he knew how she felt. Minas was a caring man and as protective as he was he honored his daughters' choices. So, he pointed up the stairs of their large estate.

"Second door on the right as you turn left at the top of the stairs," he instructed slowly. "After, you can stay for dinner."

Lars nodded sternly. "All right. Gunderson, Jeral, hold the stairs," he growled to his subordinates, who nodded and took up a casual sentry at the base of the stairs. Their bored expressions suggested they did not think there would be much in the way of threats, and also that they had some idea why their commander was really making this checkup. Pretending not to notice, Lars made his way up the stairs and down the hall, a tricorder in hand as a feeble attempt to make it look purely official.

Pausing outside of the second door on the right, he took a few deep breaths and collected his thoughts as best he could. This was a difficult situation for him, and Lars often dealt with difficult situations by avoiding them, but this was one responsibility he felt he could not duck. The thought of seeing Megan again made his throat dry and his hands shake, but the thought of her sickness made his anxiety worse. Mentally he cursed the nervousness that had held him back before in life, and with a sudden burst of resolve took the last step to the door.

"Lieutenant Crae?" he asked hesitantly after he had rung the door chime, wondering if anyone else was listening.

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD

Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

Minas Crae was the Betazoid to answer the door to his home and he had a feeling such a visit would happen but he hadn't known when. In fact he hadn't known to which magnitude either. However, he had a young boy in the house and only the boy and Megan were infected because they were infected on purpose and he thought the suits were a little overboard--that they might scare Sareth.

"The air here is fine to breathe, please come in," he said politely, standing back to let the three enter his house. "Surely our own government would never allow its Ambassadors to become infected. Luckily, though, a cure is on its way so we can all eventually put this awful matter behind us. And you all are?"

He could read their minds and he planned to, skimming over their surface thoughts already, but he honestly just wanted to hear what they had to say. Minas understood that other cultures and species had other customs and he wanted more than anything to make sure that they all felt somewhat comfortable--that meant answering for themselves. Besides, he had a feeling that one of them was one of the men he had been looking forward to meeting...

Lars hesitated for a moment, then tore off his rebreather and gestured to his subordinates, who grudgingly tapped their helmets to retract them into the suits, revealing a bored looking human and a fidgety Tiburonian. The two slung their rifles and leaned against the wall in the entry hall, conversing in low voices as Lars stepped forward to address Minas.

"Lars Janssen, Starfleet Intelligence. I'm here to check up on Lieutenant Crae," he offered, trying to sound as professional as possible. "Starfleet Diplomatic is anxious to know her condition." That was only because he'd contacted them about it, to give himself a pretense to check up on her. "She's, uh, a valuable asset to them and they're quite concerned," Lars murmured hastily, nervous about revealing his personal interest in all this.

Minas smiled and nodded. "She is upstairs but I suggest one visitor at a time. She's a bit weak, Commander Janssen, so use your best judgment."

He had a good idea of why the man was here and he wasn't about to deny Megan a visit from him at all because he knew how she felt. Minas was a caring man and as protective as he was he honored his daughters' choices. So, he pointed up the stairs of their large estate.

"Second door on the right as you turn left at the top of the stairs," he instructed slowly. "After, you can stay for dinner."

Lars nodded sternly. "All right. Gunderson, Jeral, hold the stairs," he growled to his subordinates, who nodded and took up a casual sentry at the base of the stairs. Their bored expressions suggested they did not think there would be much in the way of threats, and also that they had some idea why their commander was really making this checkup. Pretending not to notice, Lars made his way up the stairs and down the hall, a tricorder in hand as a feeble attempt to make it look purely official.

Pausing outside of the second door on the right, he took a few deep breaths and collected his thoughts as best he could. This was a difficult situation for him, and Lars often dealt with difficult situations by avoiding them, but this was one responsibility he felt he could not duck. The thought of seeing Megan again made his throat dry and his hands shake, but the thought of her sickness made his anxiety worse. Mentally he cursed the nervousness that had held him back before in life, and with a sudden burst of resolve took the last step to the door.

"Lieutenant Crae?" he asked hesitantly after he had rung the door chime, wondering if anyone else was listening.

Well, that was a voice Megan hadn't heard in a long time.

She sat up a little bit, cringing as she went, gathering up what she could muster of some sort of strong voice and decided to let her words do some talking for her. Lars was the last person that she expected to come into her house even if she was dying, but he would be a welcome sight. She smiled a little bit and ran her fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to look more presentable, cursing herself for being ill.

"Come in," she said slowly, leaning on her headrest.

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD

Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

Minas Crae was the Betazoid to answer the door to his home and he had a feeling such a visit would happen but he hadn't known when. In fact he hadn't known to which magnitude either. However, he had a young boy in the house and only the boy and Megan were infected because they were infected on purpose and he thought the suits were a little overboard--that they might scare Sareth.

"The air here is fine to breathe, please come in," he said politely, standing back to let the three enter his house. "Surely our own government would never allow its Ambassadors to become infected. Luckily, though, a cure is on its way so we can all eventually put this awful matter behind us. And you all are?"

He could read their minds and he planned to, skimming over their surface thoughts already, but he honestly just wanted to hear what they had to say. Minas understood that other cultures and species had other customs and he wanted more than anything to make sure that they all felt somewhat comfortable--that meant answering for themselves. Besides, he had a feeling that one of them was one of the men he had been looking forward to meeting...

Lars hesitated for a moment, then tore off his rebreather and gestured to his subordinates, who grudgingly tapped their helmets to retract them into the suits, revealing a bored looking human and a fidgety Tiburonian. The two slung their rifles and leaned against the wall in the entry hall, conversing in low voices as Lars stepped forward to address Minas.

"Lars Janssen, Starfleet Intelligence. I'm here to check up on Lieutenant Crae," he offered, trying to sound as professional as possible. "Starfleet Diplomatic is anxious to know her condition." That was only because he'd contacted them about it, to give himself a pretense to check up on her. "She's, uh, a valuable asset to them and they're quite concerned," Lars murmured hastily, nervous about revealing his personal interest in all this.

Minas smiled and nodded. "She is upstairs but I suggest one visitor at a time. She's a bit weak, Commander Janssen, so use your best judgment."

He had a good idea of why the man was here and he wasn't about to deny Megan a visit from him at all because he knew how she felt. Minas was a caring man and as protective as he was he honored his daughters' choices. So, he pointed up the stairs of their large estate.

"Second door on the right as you turn left at the top of the stairs," he instructed slowly. "After, you can stay for dinner."

Lars nodded sternly. "All right. Gunderson, Jeral, hold the stairs," he growled to his subordinates, who nodded and took up a casual sentry at the base of the stairs. Their bored expressions suggested they did not think there would be much in the way of threats, and also that they had some idea why their commander was really making this checkup. Pretending not to notice, Lars made his way up the stairs and down the hall, a tricorder in hand as a feeble attempt to make it look purely official.

Pausing outside of the second door on the right, he took a few deep breaths and collected his thoughts as best he could. This was a difficult situation for him, and Lars often dealt with difficult situations by avoiding them, but this was one responsibility he felt he could not duck. The thought of seeing Megan again made his throat dry and his hands shake, but the thought of her sickness made his anxiety worse. Mentally he cursed the nervousness that had held him back before in life, and with a sudden burst of resolve took the last step to the door.

"Lieutenant Crae?" he asked hesitantly after he had rung the door chime, wondering if anyone else was listening.

Well, that was a voice Megan hadn't heard in a long time.

She sat up a little bit, cringing as she went, gathering up what she could muster of some sort of strong voice and decided to let her words do some talking for her. Lars was the last person that she expected to come into her house even if she was dying, but he would be a welcome sight. She smiled a little bit and ran her fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to look more presentable, cursing herself for being ill.

"Come in," she said slowly, leaning on her headrest.

The door slid open and Lars practically leapt inside, then stopped still, looking at Megan. He had no words, because it was such a damn awkward reunion, and so he typed commands into his tricorder. The device chirped a series of responses to complicated queries, and he pretended to focus his attention on it, not being prepared with any glib line or a heroic reassurance at the moment.

"Your condition seems to be improving, Lieutenant," he lied, since he'd really been checking the room for electronic listening devices, out of old habit. Then emotion seized him and he dropped all pretense (and the tricorder) and fell to his knees beside her bed.

"Megan…I was...how are..." he stammered, but when words failed he just looked into her eyes, hoping for once that she would read his mind, and save him the difficulty of putting into words his unfamiliar emotions of concern and caring.

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD

Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

Minas Crae was the Betazoid to answer the door to his home and he had a feeling such a visit would happen but he hadn't known when. In fact he hadn't known to which magnitude either. However, he had a young boy in the house and only the boy and Megan were infected because they were infected on purpose and he thought the suits were a little overboard--that they might scare Sareth.

"The air here is fine to breathe, please come in," he said politely, standing back to let the three enter his house. "Surely our own government would never allow its Ambassadors to become infected. Luckily, though, a cure is on its way so we can all eventually put this awful matter behind us. And you all are?"

He could read their minds and he planned to, skimming over their surface thoughts already, but he honestly just wanted to hear what they had to say. Minas understood that other cultures and species had other customs and he wanted more than anything to make sure that they all felt somewhat comfortable--that meant answering for themselves. Besides, he had a feeling that one of them was one of the men he had been looking forward to meeting...

Lars hesitated for a moment, then tore off his rebreather and gestured to his subordinates, who grudgingly tapped their helmets to retract them into the suits, revealing a bored looking human and a fidgety Tiburonian. The two slung their rifles and leaned against the wall in the entry hall, conversing in low voices as Lars stepped forward to address Minas.

"Lars Janssen, Starfleet Intelligence. I'm here to check up on Lieutenant Crae," he offered, trying to sound as professional as possible. "Starfleet Diplomatic is anxious to know her condition." That was only because he'd contacted them about it, to give himself a pretense to check up on her. "She's, uh, a valuable asset to them and they're quite concerned," Lars murmured hastily, nervous about revealing his personal interest in all this.

Minas smiled and nodded. "She is upstairs but I suggest one visitor at a time. She's a bit weak, Commander Janssen, so use your best judgment."

He had a good idea of why the man was here and he wasn't about to deny Megan a visit from him at all because he knew how she felt. Minas was a caring man and as protective as he was he honored his daughters' choices. So, he pointed up the stairs of their large estate.

"Second door on the right as you turn left at the top of the stairs," he instructed slowly. "After, you can stay for dinner."

Lars nodded sternly. "All right. Gunderson, Jeral, hold the stairs," he growled to his subordinates, who nodded and took up a casual sentry at the base of the stairs. Their bored expressions suggested they did not think there would be much in the way of threats, and also that they had some idea why their commander was really making this checkup. Pretending not to notice, Lars made his way up the stairs and down the hall, a tricorder in hand as a feeble attempt to make it look purely official.

Pausing outside of the second door on the right, he took a few deep breaths and collected his thoughts as best he could. This was a difficult situation for him, and Lars often dealt with difficult situations by avoiding them, but this was one responsibility he felt he could not duck. The thought of seeing Megan again made his throat dry and his hands shake, but the thought of her sickness made his anxiety worse. Mentally he cursed the nervousness that had held him back before in life, and with a sudden burst of resolve took the last step to the door.

"Lieutenant Crae?" he asked hesitantly after he had rung the door chime, wondering if anyone else was listening.

Well, that was a voice Megan hadn't heard in a long time.

She sat up a little bit, cringing as she went, gathering up what she could muster of some sort of strong voice and decided to let her words do some talking for her. Lars was the last person that she expected to come into her house even if she was dying, but he would be a welcome sight. She smiled a little bit and ran her fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to look more presentable, cursing herself for being ill.

"Come in," she said slowly, leaning on her headrest.

The door slid open and Lars practically leapt inside, then stopped still, looking at Megan. He had no words, because it was such a damn awkward reunion, and so he typed commands into his tricorder. The device chirped a series of responses to complicated queries, and he pretended to focus his attention on it, not being prepared with any glib line or a heroic reassurance at the moment.

"Your condition seems to be improving, Lieutenant," he lied, since he'd really been checking the room for electronic listening devices, out of old habit. Then emotion seized him and he dropped all pretense (and the tricorder) and fell to his knees beside her bed.

"Megan…I was...how are..." he stammered, but when words failed he just looked into her eyes, hoping for once that she would read his mind, and save him the difficulty of putting into words his unfamiliar emotions of concern and caring.

"You forget that I can tell when you lie," Megan said softly, laughing a little bit. "Then again that was more the look in your eyes than my empathy as it seems all of my abilities are failing me, but what can you do, right?"

She started to shrug until his movement startled her, the sounds of the tricorder hitting the carpet and Lars getting to his knees made her pause. Megan smiled fondly at him though, reaching out to stroke his hair and then cup his face, looking into his eyes. He cared so much more than she had thought he did and she patted the bed with her other hand, thumb tracing his lips tenderly.

"There's space for you...I could use a good reunion kiss and snuggle," she told him with a playful wink--she might have been losing herself to this virus until Lillian got there, but she would die happy and playful if it was the last thing she did.

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD

Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

Minas Crae was the Betazoid to answer the door to his home and he had a feeling such a visit would happen but he hadn't known when. In fact he hadn't known to which magnitude either. However, he had a young boy in the house and only the boy and Megan were infected because they were infected on purpose and he thought the suits were a little overboard--that they might scare Sareth.

"The air here is fine to breathe, please come in," he said politely, standing back to let the three enter his house. "Surely our own government would never allow its Ambassadors to become infected. Luckily, though, a cure is on its way so we can all eventually put this awful matter behind us. And you all are?"

He could read their minds and he planned to, skimming over their surface thoughts already, but he honestly just wanted to hear what they had to say. Minas understood that other cultures and species had other customs and he wanted more than anything to make sure that they all felt somewhat comfortable--that meant answering for themselves. Besides, he had a feeling that one of them was one of the men he had been looking forward to meeting...

Lars hesitated for a moment, then tore off his rebreather and gestured to his subordinates, who grudgingly tapped their helmets to retract them into the suits, revealing a bored looking human and a fidgety Tiburonian. The two slung their rifles and leaned against the wall in the entry hall, conversing in low voices as Lars stepped forward to address Minas.

"Lars Janssen, Starfleet Intelligence. I'm here to check up on Lieutenant Crae," he offered, trying to sound as professional as possible. "Starfleet Diplomatic is anxious to know her condition." That was only because he'd contacted them about it, to give himself a pretense to check up on her. "She's, uh, a valuable asset to them and they're quite concerned," Lars murmured hastily, nervous about revealing his personal interest in all this.

Minas smiled and nodded. "She is upstairs but I suggest one visitor at a time. She's a bit weak, Commander Janssen, so use your best judgment."

He had a good idea of why the man was here and he wasn't about to deny Megan a visit from him at all because he knew how she felt. Minas was a caring man and as protective as he was he honored his daughters' choices. So, he pointed up the stairs of their large estate.

"Second door on the right as you turn left at the top of the stairs," he instructed slowly. "After, you can stay for dinner."

Lars nodded sternly. "All right. Gunderson, Jeral, hold the stairs," he growled to his subordinates, who nodded and took up a casual sentry at the base of the stairs. Their bored expressions suggested they did not think there would be much in the way of threats, and also that they had some idea why their commander was really making this checkup. Pretending not to notice, Lars made his way up the stairs and down the hall, a tricorder in hand as a feeble attempt to make it look purely official.

Pausing outside of the second door on the right, he took a few deep breaths and collected his thoughts as best he could. This was a difficult situation for him, and Lars often dealt with difficult situations by avoiding them, but this was one responsibility he felt he could not duck. The thought of seeing Megan again made his throat dry and his hands shake, but the thought of her sickness made his anxiety worse. Mentally he cursed the nervousness that had held him back before in life, and with a sudden burst of resolve took the last step to the door.

"Lieutenant Crae?" he asked hesitantly after he had rung the door chime, wondering if anyone else was listening.

Well, that was a voice Megan hadn't heard in a long time.

She sat up a little bit, cringing as she went, gathering up what she could muster of some sort of strong voice and decided to let her words do some talking for her. Lars was the last person that she expected to come into her house even if she was dying, but he would be a welcome sight. She smiled a little bit and ran her fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to look more presentable, cursing herself for being ill.

"Come in," she said slowly, leaning on her headrest.

The door slid open and Lars practically leapt inside, then stopped still, looking at Megan. He had no words, because it was such a damn awkward reunion, and so he typed commands into his tricorder. The device chirped a series of responses to complicated queries, and he pretended to focus his attention on it, not being prepared with any glib line or a heroic reassurance at the moment.

"Your condition seems to be improving, Lieutenant," he lied, since he'd really been checking the room for electronic listening devices, out of old habit. Then emotion seized him and he dropped all pretense (and the tricorder) and fell to his knees beside her bed.

"Megan…I was...how are..." he stammered, but when words failed he just looked into her eyes, hoping for once that she would read his mind, and save him the difficulty of putting into words his unfamiliar emotions of concern and caring.

"You forget that I can tell when you lie," Megan said softly, laughing a little bit. "Then again that was more the look in your eyes than my empathy as it seems all of my abilities are failing me, but what can you do, right?"

She started to shrug until his movement startled her, the sounds of the tricorder hitting the carpet and Lars getting to his knees made her pause. Megan smiled fondly at him though, reaching out to stroke his hair and then cup his face, looking into his eyes. He cared so much more than she had thought he did and she patted the bed with her other hand, thumb tracing his lips tenderly.

"There's space for you...I could use a good reunion kiss and snuggle," she told him with a playful wink--she might have been losing herself to this virus until Lillian got there, but she would die happy and playful if it was the last thing she did.

HIs falsification discovered, Lars grinned wryly. Megan's soft laughter, so familiar to him, relieved his anxiety a bit. "I must be getting rusty, spending all that time in San Francisco. Anyway I've been monitoring the reports going around. It sounds like the medical research team on board the Mitterand has received sufficient data from the ground to synthesize antibodies. I'm sure any moment now your sister will arrive with a cure," he said reassuringly. "So hang in there. I can't lose you. I have enough enemies around here, so I need all the allies I can get," he said half-jokingly.

Lars peeled off his gloves and brushed some strands of hair from her face, then leaned in for a brief kiss, not wanting to overdo it right now. Still, he did cautiously lower himself onto the bed next to her, and held her as gently as he could, inwardly terrified of hurting her in her fragile state at the moment.

"I feel like a guilty teenager again, listening for your father out in the hall," he chuckled to disrupt his trepidation. Being discovered was actually a slight concern, since he didn't know the Crae parents well enough to judge their opinion on this.

He gazed into her eyes then. "I'm sorry we drifted apart. Work, you know," he offered lamely. "I've got some time saved up. I have to deliver the disarmed bomb to Starfleet Medical and debrief the Admiral, but that will give you some time to recover. After that we can get together again, I promise. If you want to, I mean," Lars added quickly.

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD

Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

Minas Crae was the Betazoid to answer the door to his home and he had a feeling such a visit would happen but he hadn't known when. In fact he hadn't known to which magnitude either. However, he had a young boy in the house and only the boy and Megan were infected because they were infected on purpose and he thought the suits were a little overboard--that they might scare Sareth.

"The air here is fine to breathe, please come in," he said politely, standing back to let the three enter his house. "Surely our own government would never allow its Ambassadors to become infected. Luckily, though, a cure is on its way so we can all eventually put this awful matter behind us. And you all are?"

He could read their minds and he planned to, skimming over their surface thoughts already, but he honestly just wanted to hear what they had to say. Minas understood that other cultures and species had other customs and he wanted more than anything to make sure that they all felt somewhat comfortable--that meant answering for themselves. Besides, he had a feeling that one of them was one of the men he had been looking forward to meeting...

Lars hesitated for a moment, then tore off his rebreather and gestured to his subordinates, who grudgingly tapped their helmets to retract them into the suits, revealing a bored looking human and a fidgety Tiburonian. The two slung their rifles and leaned against the wall in the entry hall, conversing in low voices as Lars stepped forward to address Minas.

"Lars Janssen, Starfleet Intelligence. I'm here to check up on Lieutenant Crae," he offered, trying to sound as professional as possible. "Starfleet Diplomatic is anxious to know her condition." That was only because he'd contacted them about it, to give himself a pretense to check up on her. "She's, uh, a valuable asset to them and they're quite concerned," Lars murmured hastily, nervous about revealing his personal interest in all this.

Minas smiled and nodded. "She is upstairs but I suggest one visitor at a time. She's a bit weak, Commander Janssen, so use your best judgment."

He had a good idea of why the man was here and he wasn't about to deny Megan a visit from him at all because he knew how she felt. Minas was a caring man and as protective as he was he honored his daughters' choices. So, he pointed up the stairs of their large estate.

"Second door on the right as you turn left at the top of the stairs," he instructed slowly. "After, you can stay for dinner."

Lars nodded sternly. "All right. Gunderson, Jeral, hold the stairs," he growled to his subordinates, who nodded and took up a casual sentry at the base of the stairs. Their bored expressions suggested they did not think there would be much in the way of threats, and also that they had some idea why their commander was really making this checkup. Pretending not to notice, Lars made his way up the stairs and down the hall, a tricorder in hand as a feeble attempt to make it look purely official.

Pausing outside of the second door on the right, he took a few deep breaths and collected his thoughts as best he could. This was a difficult situation for him, and Lars often dealt with difficult situations by avoiding them, but this was one responsibility he felt he could not duck. The thought of seeing Megan again made his throat dry and his hands shake, but the thought of her sickness made his anxiety worse. Mentally he cursed the nervousness that had held him back before in life, and with a sudden burst of resolve took the last step to the door.

"Lieutenant Crae?" he asked hesitantly after he had rung the door chime, wondering if anyone else was listening.

Well, that was a voice Megan hadn't heard in a long time.

She sat up a little bit, cringing as she went, gathering up what she could muster of some sort of strong voice and decided to let her words do some talking for her. Lars was the last person that she expected to come into her house even if she was dying, but he would be a welcome sight. She smiled a little bit and ran her fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to look more presentable, cursing herself for being ill.

"Come in," she said slowly, leaning on her headrest.

The door slid open and Lars practically leapt inside, then stopped still, looking at Megan. He had no words, because it was such a damn awkward reunion, and so he typed commands into his tricorder. The device chirped a series of responses to complicated queries, and he pretended to focus his attention on it, not being prepared with any glib line or a heroic reassurance at the moment.

"Your condition seems to be improving, Lieutenant," he lied, since he'd really been checking the room for electronic listening devices, out of old habit. Then emotion seized him and he dropped all pretense (and the tricorder) and fell to his knees beside her bed.

"Megan…I was...how are..." he stammered, but when words failed he just looked into her eyes, hoping for once that she would read his mind, and save him the difficulty of putting into words his unfamiliar emotions of concern and caring.

"You forget that I can tell when you lie," Megan said softly, laughing a little bit. "Then again that was more the look in your eyes than my empathy as it seems all of my abilities are failing me, but what can you do, right?"

She started to shrug until his movement startled her, the sounds of the tricorder hitting the carpet and Lars getting to his knees made her pause. Megan smiled fondly at him though, reaching out to stroke his hair and then cup his face, looking into his eyes. He cared so much more than she had thought he did and she patted the bed with her other hand, thumb tracing his lips tenderly.

"There's space for you...I could use a good reunion kiss and snuggle," she told him with a playful wink--she might have been losing herself to this virus until Lillian got there, but she would die happy and playful if it was the last thing she did.

HIs falsification discovered, Lars grinned wryly. Megan's soft laughter, so familiar to him, relieved his anxiety a bit. "I must be getting rusty, spending all that time in San Francisco. Anyway I've been monitoring the reports going around. It sounds like the medical research team on board the Mitterand has received sufficient data from the ground to synthesize antibodies. I'm sure any moment now your sister will arrive with a cure," he said reassuringly. "So hang in there. I can't lose you. I have enough enemies around here, so I need all the allies I can get," he said half-jokingly.

Lars peeled off his gloves and brushed some strands of hair from her face, then leaned in for a brief kiss, not wanting to overdo it right now. Still, he did cautiously lower himself onto the bed next to her, and held her as gently as he could, inwardly terrified of hurting her in her fragile state at the moment.

"I feel like a guilty teenager again, listening for your father out in the hall," he chuckled to disrupt his trepidation. Being discovered was actually a slight concern, since he didn't know the Crae parents well enough to judge their opinion on this.

He gazed into her eyes then. "I'm sorry we drifted apart. Work, you know," he offered lamely. "I've got some time saved up. I have to deliver the disarmed bomb to Starfleet Medical and debrief the Admiral, but that will give you some time to recover. After that we can get together again, I promise. If you want to, I mean," Lars added quickly.

Megan laughed a little. "My father knows all the things I know about you and let you come up here, so...feel special."

She snuggled into him as he held her, smiling a bit at his thoughts of her being fragile and nuzzling his face with her nose slowly before kissing him again. Megan had missed him. She'd been keeping busy and so had he, but he had come all this way just to see her and she wanted him to know how much that meant to her.

"I missed you, but work is work," she said slowly, looking at him and keeping eye contact. "I've never been good at commitment--I scare men off or they get so close that I freak out--but...if you want to try something, I am more than willing to try it. I like it better when you're here."

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD

Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

Minas Crae was the Betazoid to answer the door to his home and he had a feeling such a visit would happen but he hadn't known when. In fact he hadn't known to which magnitude either. However, he had a young boy in the house and only the boy and Megan were infected because they were infected on purpose and he thought the suits were a little overboard--that they might scare Sareth.

"The air here is fine to breathe, please come in," he said politely, standing back to let the three enter his house. "Surely our own government would never allow its Ambassadors to become infected. Luckily, though, a cure is on its way so we can all eventually put this awful matter behind us. And you all are?"

He could read their minds and he planned to, skimming over their surface thoughts already, but he honestly just wanted to hear what they had to say. Minas understood that other cultures and species had other customs and he wanted more than anything to make sure that they all felt somewhat comfortable--that meant answering for themselves. Besides, he had a feeling that one of them was one of the men he had been looking forward to meeting...

Lars hesitated for a moment, then tore off his rebreather and gestured to his subordinates, who grudgingly tapped their helmets to retract them into the suits, revealing a bored looking human and a fidgety Tiburonian. The two slung their rifles and leaned against the wall in the entry hall, conversing in low voices as Lars stepped forward to address Minas.

"Lars Janssen, Starfleet Intelligence. I'm here to check up on Lieutenant Crae," he offered, trying to sound as professional as possible. "Starfleet Diplomatic is anxious to know her condition." That was only because he'd contacted them about it, to give himself a pretense to check up on her. "She's, uh, a valuable asset to them and they're quite concerned," Lars murmured hastily, nervous about revealing his personal interest in all this.

Minas smiled and nodded. "She is upstairs but I suggest one visitor at a time. She's a bit weak, Commander Janssen, so use your best judgment."

He had a good idea of why the man was here and he wasn't about to deny Megan a visit from him at all because he knew how she felt. Minas was a caring man and as protective as he was he honored his daughters' choices. So, he pointed up the stairs of their large estate.

"Second door on the right as you turn left at the top of the stairs," he instructed slowly. "After, you can stay for dinner."

Lars nodded sternly. "All right. Gunderson, Jeral, hold the stairs," he growled to his subordinates, who nodded and took up a casual sentry at the base of the stairs. Their bored expressions suggested they did not think there would be much in the way of threats, and also that they had some idea why their commander was really making this checkup. Pretending not to notice, Lars made his way up the stairs and down the hall, a tricorder in hand as a feeble attempt to make it look purely official.

Pausing outside of the second door on the right, he took a few deep breaths and collected his thoughts as best he could. This was a difficult situation for him, and Lars often dealt with difficult situations by avoiding them, but this was one responsibility he felt he could not duck. The thought of seeing Megan again made his throat dry and his hands shake, but the thought of her sickness made his anxiety worse. Mentally he cursed the nervousness that had held him back before in life, and with a sudden burst of resolve took the last step to the door.

"Lieutenant Crae?" he asked hesitantly after he had rung the door chime, wondering if anyone else was listening.

Well, that was a voice Megan hadn't heard in a long time.

She sat up a little bit, cringing as she went, gathering up what she could muster of some sort of strong voice and decided to let her words do some talking for her. Lars was the last person that she expected to come into her house even if she was dying, but he would be a welcome sight. She smiled a little bit and ran her fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to look more presentable, cursing herself for being ill.

"Come in," she said slowly, leaning on her headrest.

The door slid open and Lars practically leapt inside, then stopped still, looking at Megan. He had no words, because it was such a damn awkward reunion, and so he typed commands into his tricorder. The device chirped a series of responses to complicated queries, and he pretended to focus his attention on it, not being prepared with any glib line or a heroic reassurance at the moment.

"Your condition seems to be improving, Lieutenant," he lied, since he'd really been checking the room for electronic listening devices, out of old habit. Then emotion seized him and he dropped all pretense (and the tricorder) and fell to his knees beside her bed.

"Megan…I was...how are..." he stammered, but when words failed he just looked into her eyes, hoping for once that she would read his mind, and save him the difficulty of putting into words his unfamiliar emotions of concern and caring.

"You forget that I can tell when you lie," Megan said softly, laughing a little bit. "Then again that was more the look in your eyes than my empathy as it seems all of my abilities are failing me, but what can you do, right?"

She started to shrug until his movement startled her, the sounds of the tricorder hitting the carpet and Lars getting to his knees made her pause. Megan smiled fondly at him though, reaching out to stroke his hair and then cup his face, looking into his eyes. He cared so much more than she had thought he did and she patted the bed with her other hand, thumb tracing his lips tenderly.

"There's space for you...I could use a good reunion kiss and snuggle," she told him with a playful wink--she might have been losing herself to this virus until Lillian got there, but she would die happy and playful if it was the last thing she did.

HIs falsification discovered, Lars grinned wryly. Megan's soft laughter, so familiar to him, relieved his anxiety a bit. "I must be getting rusty, spending all that time in San Francisco. Anyway I've been monitoring the reports going around. It sounds like the medical research team on board the Mitterand has received sufficient data from the ground to synthesize antibodies. I'm sure any moment now your sister will arrive with a cure," he said reassuringly. "So hang in there. I can't lose you. I have enough enemies around here, so I need all the allies I can get," he said half-jokingly.

Lars peeled off his gloves and brushed some strands of hair from her face, then leaned in for a brief kiss, not wanting to overdo it right now. Still, he did cautiously lower himself onto the bed next to her, and held her as gently as he could, inwardly terrified of hurting her in her fragile state at the moment.

"I feel like a guilty teenager again, listening for your father out in the hall," he chuckled to disrupt his trepidation. Being discovered was actually a slight concern, since he didn't know the Crae parents well enough to judge their opinion on this.

He gazed into her eyes then. "I'm sorry we drifted apart. Work, you know," he offered lamely. "I've got some time saved up. I have to deliver the disarmed bomb to Starfleet Medical and debrief the Admiral, but that will give you some time to recover. After that we can get together again, I promise. If you want to, I mean," Lars added quickly.

Megan laughed a little. "My father knows all the things I know about you and let you come up here, so...feel special."

She snuggled into him as he held her, smiling a bit at his thoughts of her being fragile and nuzzling his face with her nose slowly before kissing him again. Megan had missed him. She'd been keeping busy and so had he, but he had come all this way just to see her and she wanted him to know how much that meant to her.

"I missed you, but work is work," she said slowly, looking at him and keeping eye contact. "I've never been good at commitment--I scare men off or they get so close that I freak out--but...if you want to try something, I am more than willing to try it. I like it better when you're here."

"He knows all the things you know about me?!" Lars asked in mock horror, then laughed at their shared memories of Starbase 7 and that brief period after. Feeling more contented with Megan in his arms than he had in a year of glamorous work at the Office of the Director of Starfleet Intelligence, he gently twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. He marveled for a moment at the sight of his bare finger, so rarely seen without gloves even by him, and did his best to ignore her low body temperature and pallid skin color, the likely result of the virus.

"I was a little freaked out myself, when I heard you were…sick," Lars put in carefully. "So how do you feel, really? And…about this disease…some day we need to talk…about your sister…and her acquaintances," he added quietly.

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD


Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

Minas Crae was the Betazoid to answer the door to his home and he had a feeling such a visit would happen but he hadn't known when. In fact he hadn't known to which magnitude either. However, he had a young boy in the house and only the boy and Megan were infected because they were infected on purpose and he thought the suits were a little overboard--that they might scare Sareth.

"The air here is fine to breathe, please come in," he said politely, standing back to let the three enter his house. "Surely our own government would never allow its Ambassadors to become infected. Luckily, though, a cure is on its way so we can all eventually put this awful matter behind us. And you all are?"

He could read their minds and he planned to, skimming over their surface thoughts already, but he honestly just wanted to hear what they had to say. Minas understood that other cultures and species had other customs and he wanted more than anything to make sure that they all felt somewhat comfortable--that meant answering for themselves. Besides, he had a feeling that one of them was one of the men he had been looking forward to meeting...

Lars hesitated for a moment, then tore off his rebreather and gestured to his subordinates, who grudgingly tapped their helmets to retract them into the suits, revealing a bored looking human and a fidgety Tiburonian. The two slung their rifles and leaned against the wall in the entry hall, conversing in low voices as Lars stepped forward to address Minas.

"Lars Janssen, Starfleet Intelligence. I'm here to check up on Lieutenant Crae," he offered, trying to sound as professional as possible. "Starfleet Diplomatic is anxious to know her condition." That was only because he'd contacted them about it, to give himself a pretense to check up on her. "She's, uh, a valuable asset to them and they're quite concerned," Lars murmured hastily, nervous about revealing his personal interest in all this.

Minas smiled and nodded. "She is upstairs but I suggest one visitor at a time. She's a bit weak, Commander Janssen, so use your best judgment."

He had a good idea of why the man was here and he wasn't about to deny Megan a visit from him at all because he knew how she felt. Minas was a caring man and as protective as he was he honored his daughters' choices. So, he pointed up the stairs of their large estate.

"Second door on the right as you turn left at the top of the stairs," he instructed slowly. "After, you can stay for dinner."

Lars nodded sternly. "All right. Gunderson, Jeral, hold the stairs," he growled to his subordinates, who nodded and took up a casual sentry at the base of the stairs. Their bored expressions suggested they did not think there would be much in the way of threats, and also that they had some idea why their commander was really making this checkup. Pretending not to notice, Lars made his way up the stairs and down the hall, a tricorder in hand as a feeble attempt to make it look purely official.

Pausing outside of the second door on the right, he took a few deep breaths and collected his thoughts as best he could. This was a difficult situation for him, and Lars often dealt with difficult situations by avoiding them, but this was one responsibility he felt he could not duck. The thought of seeing Megan again made his throat dry and his hands shake, but the thought of her sickness made his anxiety worse. Mentally he cursed the nervousness that had held him back before in life, and with a sudden burst of resolve took the last step to the door.

"Lieutenant Crae?" he asked hesitantly after he had rung the door chime, wondering if anyone else was listening.

Well, that was a voice Megan hadn't heard in a long time.

She sat up a little bit, cringing as she went, gathering up what she could muster of some sort of strong voice and decided to let her words do some talking for her. Lars was the last person that she expected to come into her house even if she was dying, but he would be a welcome sight. She smiled a little bit and ran her fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to look more presentable, cursing herself for being ill.

"Come in," she said slowly, leaning on her headrest.

The door slid open and Lars practically leapt inside, then stopped still, looking at Megan. He had no words, because it was such a damn awkward reunion, and so he typed commands into his tricorder. The device chirped a series of responses to complicated queries, and he pretended to focus his attention on it, not being prepared with any glib line or a heroic reassurance at the moment.

"Your condition seems to be improving, Lieutenant," he lied, since he'd really been checking the room for electronic listening devices, out of old habit. Then emotion seized him and he dropped all pretense (and the tricorder) and fell to his knees beside her bed.

"Megan…I was...how are..." he stammered, but when words failed he just looked into her eyes, hoping for once that she would read his mind, and save him the difficulty of putting into words his unfamiliar emotions of concern and caring.

"You forget that I can tell when you lie," Megan said softly, laughing a little bit. "Then again that was more the look in your eyes than my empathy as it seems all of my abilities are failing me, but what can you do, right?"

She started to shrug until his movement startled her, the sounds of the tricorder hitting the carpet and Lars getting to his knees made her pause. Megan smiled fondly at him though, reaching out to stroke his hair and then cup his face, looking into his eyes. He cared so much more than she had thought he did and she patted the bed with her other hand, thumb tracing his lips tenderly.

"There's space for you...I could use a good reunion kiss and snuggle," she told him with a playful wink--she might have been losing herself to this virus until Lillian got there, but she would die happy and playful if it was the last thing she did.

HIs falsification discovered, Lars grinned wryly. Megan's soft laughter, so familiar to him, relieved his anxiety a bit. "I must be getting rusty, spending all that time in San Francisco. Anyway I've been monitoring the reports going around. It sounds like the medical research team on board the Mitterand has received sufficient data from the ground to synthesize antibodies. I'm sure any moment now your sister will arrive with a cure," he said reassuringly. "So hang in there. I can't lose you. I have enough enemies around here, so I need all the allies I can get," he said half-jokingly.

Lars peeled off his gloves and brushed some strands of hair from her face, then leaned in for a brief kiss, not wanting to overdo it right now. Still, he did cautiously lower himself onto the bed next to her, and held her as gently as he could, inwardly terrified of hurting her in her fragile state at the moment.

"I feel like a guilty teenager again, listening for your father out in the hall," he chuckled to disrupt his trepidation. Being discovered was actually a slight concern, since he didn't know the Crae parents well enough to judge their opinion on this.

He gazed into her eyes then. "I'm sorry we drifted apart. Work, you know," he offered lamely. "I've got some time saved up. I have to deliver the disarmed bomb to Starfleet Medical and debrief the Admiral, but that will give you some time to recover. After that we can get together again, I promise. If you want to, I mean," Lars added quickly.

Megan laughed a little. "My father knows all the things I know about you and let you come up here, so...feel special."

She snuggled into him as he held her, smiling a bit at his thoughts of her being fragile and nuzzling his face with her nose slowly before kissing him again. Megan had missed him. She'd been keeping busy and so had he, but he had come all this way just to see her and she wanted him to know how much that meant to her.

"I missed you, but work is work," she said slowly, looking at him and keeping eye contact. "I've never been good at commitment--I scare men off or they get so close that I freak out--but...if you want to try something, I am more than willing to try it. I like it better when you're here."

"He knows all the things you know about me?!" Lars asked in mock horror, then laughed at their shared memories of Starbase 7 and that brief period after. Feeling more contented with Megan in his arms than he had in a year of glamorous work at the Office of the Director of Starfleet Intelligence, he gently twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. He marveled for a moment at the sight of his bare finger, so rarely seen without gloves even by him, and did his best to ignore her low body temperature and pallid skin color, the likely result of the virus.

"I was a little freaked out myself, when I heard you were…sick," Lars put in carefully. "So how do you feel, really? And…about this disease…some day we need to talk…about your sister…and her acquaintances," he added quietly.

"When you heard that I was dying?" Megan asked him, taking as deep a breath as she could. "I feel like I'm nearing the end of my rope but I have complete faith in my sister. Lillian is one of the best that there is and she would never let me or her son down. She is far too determined for that."

She looked at him though as the other words sunk in. "If you want to know more about Doclin...a lot of things are for her to tell, not me. She has it in her mind that she needs to handle this her way and I would rather protect you than involve you more. I only know the parts of it that she lets me know, and when she's cured this I'm locking you up in my room."

With that she had to wink, desperate to be playful and not talk about Doclin.

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD


Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

Minas Crae was the Betazoid to answer the door to his home and he had a feeling such a visit would happen but he hadn't known when. In fact he hadn't known to which magnitude either. However, he had a young boy in the house and only the boy and Megan were infected because they were infected on purpose and he thought the suits were a little overboard--that they might scare Sareth.

"The air here is fine to breathe, please come in," he said politely, standing back to let the three enter his house. "Surely our own government would never allow its Ambassadors to become infected. Luckily, though, a cure is on its way so we can all eventually put this awful matter behind us. And you all are?"

He could read their minds and he planned to, skimming over their surface thoughts already, but he honestly just wanted to hear what they had to say. Minas understood that other cultures and species had other customs and he wanted more than anything to make sure that they all felt somewhat comfortable--that meant answering for themselves. Besides, he had a feeling that one of them was one of the men he had been looking forward to meeting...

Lars hesitated for a moment, then tore off his rebreather and gestured to his subordinates, who grudgingly tapped their helmets to retract them into the suits, revealing a bored looking human and a fidgety Tiburonian. The two slung their rifles and leaned against the wall in the entry hall, conversing in low voices as Lars stepped forward to address Minas.

"Lars Janssen, Starfleet Intelligence. I'm here to check up on Lieutenant Crae," he offered, trying to sound as professional as possible. "Starfleet Diplomatic is anxious to know her condition." That was only because he'd contacted them about it, to give himself a pretense to check up on her. "She's, uh, a valuable asset to them and they're quite concerned," Lars murmured hastily, nervous about revealing his personal interest in all this.

Minas smiled and nodded. "She is upstairs but I suggest one visitor at a time. She's a bit weak, Commander Janssen, so use your best judgment."

He had a good idea of why the man was here and he wasn't about to deny Megan a visit from him at all because he knew how she felt. Minas was a caring man and as protective as he was he honored his daughters' choices. So, he pointed up the stairs of their large estate.

"Second door on the right as you turn left at the top of the stairs," he instructed slowly. "After, you can stay for dinner."

Lars nodded sternly. "All right. Gunderson, Jeral, hold the stairs," he growled to his subordinates, who nodded and took up a casual sentry at the base of the stairs. Their bored expressions suggested they did not think there would be much in the way of threats, and also that they had some idea why their commander was really making this checkup. Pretending not to notice, Lars made his way up the stairs and down the hall, a tricorder in hand as a feeble attempt to make it look purely official.

Pausing outside of the second door on the right, he took a few deep breaths and collected his thoughts as best he could. This was a difficult situation for him, and Lars often dealt with difficult situations by avoiding them, but this was one responsibility he felt he could not duck. The thought of seeing Megan again made his throat dry and his hands shake, but the thought of her sickness made his anxiety worse. Mentally he cursed the nervousness that had held him back before in life, and with a sudden burst of resolve took the last step to the door.

"Lieutenant Crae?" he asked hesitantly after he had rung the door chime, wondering if anyone else was listening.

Well, that was a voice Megan hadn't heard in a long time.

She sat up a little bit, cringing as she went, gathering up what she could muster of some sort of strong voice and decided to let her words do some talking for her. Lars was the last person that she expected to come into her house even if she was dying, but he would be a welcome sight. She smiled a little bit and ran her fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to look more presentable, cursing herself for being ill.

"Come in," she said slowly, leaning on her headrest.

The door slid open and Lars practically leapt inside, then stopped still, looking at Megan. He had no words, because it was such a damn awkward reunion, and so he typed commands into his tricorder. The device chirped a series of responses to complicated queries, and he pretended to focus his attention on it, not being prepared with any glib line or a heroic reassurance at the moment.

"Your condition seems to be improving, Lieutenant," he lied, since he'd really been checking the room for electronic listening devices, out of old habit. Then emotion seized him and he dropped all pretense (and the tricorder) and fell to his knees beside her bed.

"Megan…I was...how are..." he stammered, but when words failed he just looked into her eyes, hoping for once that she would read his mind, and save him the difficulty of putting into words his unfamiliar emotions of concern and caring.

"You forget that I can tell when you lie," Megan said softly, laughing a little bit. "Then again that was more the look in your eyes than my empathy as it seems all of my abilities are failing me, but what can you do, right?"

She started to shrug until his movement startled her, the sounds of the tricorder hitting the carpet and Lars getting to his knees made her pause. Megan smiled fondly at him though, reaching out to stroke his hair and then cup his face, looking into his eyes. He cared so much more than she had thought he did and she patted the bed with her other hand, thumb tracing his lips tenderly.

"There's space for you...I could use a good reunion kiss and snuggle," she told him with a playful wink--she might have been losing herself to this virus until Lillian got there, but she would die happy and playful if it was the last thing she did.

HIs falsification discovered, Lars grinned wryly. Megan's soft laughter, so familiar to him, relieved his anxiety a bit. "I must be getting rusty, spending all that time in San Francisco. Anyway I've been monitoring the reports going around. It sounds like the medical research team on board the Mitterand has received sufficient data from the ground to synthesize antibodies. I'm sure any moment now your sister will arrive with a cure," he said reassuringly. "So hang in there. I can't lose you. I have enough enemies around here, so I need all the allies I can get," he said half-jokingly.

Lars peeled off his gloves and brushed some strands of hair from her face, then leaned in for a brief kiss, not wanting to overdo it right now. Still, he did cautiously lower himself onto the bed next to her, and held her as gently as he could, inwardly terrified of hurting her in her fragile state at the moment.

"I feel like a guilty teenager again, listening for your father out in the hall," he chuckled to disrupt his trepidation. Being discovered was actually a slight concern, since he didn't know the Crae parents well enough to judge their opinion on this.

He gazed into her eyes then. "I'm sorry we drifted apart. Work, you know," he offered lamely. "I've got some time saved up. I have to deliver the disarmed bomb to Starfleet Medical and debrief the Admiral, but that will give you some time to recover. After that we can get together again, I promise. If you want to, I mean," Lars added quickly.

Megan laughed a little. "My father knows all the things I know about you and let you come up here, so...feel special."

She snuggled into him as he held her, smiling a bit at his thoughts of her being fragile and nuzzling his face with her nose slowly before kissing him again. Megan had missed him. She'd been keeping busy and so had he, but he had come all this way just to see her and she wanted him to know how much that meant to her.

"I missed you, but work is work," she said slowly, looking at him and keeping eye contact. "I've never been good at commitment--I scare men off or they get so close that I freak out--but...if you want to try something, I am more than willing to try it. I like it better when you're here."

"He knows all the things you know about me?!" Lars asked in mock horror, then laughed at their shared memories of Starbase 7 and that brief period after. Feeling more contented with Megan in his arms than he had in a year of glamorous work at the Office of the Director of Starfleet Intelligence, he gently twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. He marveled for a moment at the sight of his bare finger, so rarely seen without gloves even by him, and did his best to ignore her low body temperature and pallid skin color, the likely result of the virus.

"I was a little freaked out myself, when I heard you were…sick," Lars put in carefully. "So how do you feel, really? And…about this disease…some day we need to talk…about your sister…and her acquaintances," he added quietly.

"When you heard that I was dying?" Megan asked him, taking as deep a breath as she could. "I feel like I'm nearing the end of my rope but I have complete faith in my sister. Lillian is one of the best that there is and she would never let me or her son down. She is far too determined for that."

She looked at him though as the other words sunk in. "If you want to know more about Doclin...a lot of things are for her to tell, not me. She has it in her mind that she needs to handle this her way and I would rather protect you than involve you more. I only know the parts of it that she lets me know, and when she's cured this I'm locking you up in my room."

With that she had to wink, desperate to be playful and not talk about Doclin.

Lars gave her a rueful grin. "Ah well, it wouldn't be the first time I've been locked up. And hopefully I'd enjoy that more than the stockade." But inwardly he was a little irked by her evasion. Everyone seemed to keeping secrets from him, and the nature of his personality and profession meant he did not care for it. Still, he supposed he should not pester Megan about all that. "Well, I guess-"

Just then his comm badge chimed. "Sir, Gunderson here. Ran a prox scan and saw that Marine is here. Downstairs. Want us to run him off?" his subordinate asked gruffly. Lars flinched at the interruption and at the mention of Taylor, but he had an idea.

"Negative, just take it easy," he responded over the comm. Looking down at Megan, he inquired "So are you up for going downstairs and being sociable? I have to say hello to some people."

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD


Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

Minas Crae was the Betazoid to answer the door to his home and he had a feeling such a visit would happen but he hadn't known when. In fact he hadn't known to which magnitude either. However, he had a young boy in the house and only the boy and Megan were infected because they were infected on purpose and he thought the suits were a little overboard--that they might scare Sareth.

"The air here is fine to breathe, please come in," he said politely, standing back to let the three enter his house. "Surely our own government would never allow its Ambassadors to become infected. Luckily, though, a cure is on its way so we can all eventually put this awful matter behind us. And you all are?"

He could read their minds and he planned to, skimming over their surface thoughts already, but he honestly just wanted to hear what they had to say. Minas understood that other cultures and species had other customs and he wanted more than anything to make sure that they all felt somewhat comfortable--that meant answering for themselves. Besides, he had a feeling that one of them was one of the men he had been looking forward to meeting...

Lars hesitated for a moment, then tore off his rebreather and gestured to his subordinates, who grudgingly tapped their helmets to retract them into the suits, revealing a bored looking human and a fidgety Tiburonian. The two slung their rifles and leaned against the wall in the entry hall, conversing in low voices as Lars stepped forward to address Minas.

"Lars Janssen, Starfleet Intelligence. I'm here to check up on Lieutenant Crae," he offered, trying to sound as professional as possible. "Starfleet Diplomatic is anxious to know her condition." That was only because he'd contacted them about it, to give himself a pretense to check up on her. "She's, uh, a valuable asset to them and they're quite concerned," Lars murmured hastily, nervous about revealing his personal interest in all this.

Minas smiled and nodded. "She is upstairs but I suggest one visitor at a time. She's a bit weak, Commander Janssen, so use your best judgment."

He had a good idea of why the man was here and he wasn't about to deny Megan a visit from him at all because he knew how she felt. Minas was a caring man and as protective as he was he honored his daughters' choices. So, he pointed up the stairs of their large estate.

"Second door on the right as you turn left at the top of the stairs," he instructed slowly. "After, you can stay for dinner."

Lars nodded sternly. "All right. Gunderson, Jeral, hold the stairs," he growled to his subordinates, who nodded and took up a casual sentry at the base of the stairs. Their bored expressions suggested they did not think there would be much in the way of threats, and also that they had some idea why their commander was really making this checkup. Pretending not to notice, Lars made his way up the stairs and down the hall, a tricorder in hand as a feeble attempt to make it look purely official.

Pausing outside of the second door on the right, he took a few deep breaths and collected his thoughts as best he could. This was a difficult situation for him, and Lars often dealt with difficult situations by avoiding them, but this was one responsibility he felt he could not duck. The thought of seeing Megan again made his throat dry and his hands shake, but the thought of her sickness made his anxiety worse. Mentally he cursed the nervousness that had held him back before in life, and with a sudden burst of resolve took the last step to the door.

"Lieutenant Crae?" he asked hesitantly after he had rung the door chime, wondering if anyone else was listening.

Well, that was a voice Megan hadn't heard in a long time.

She sat up a little bit, cringing as she went, gathering up what she could muster of some sort of strong voice and decided to let her words do some talking for her. Lars was the last person that she expected to come into her house even if she was dying, but he would be a welcome sight. She smiled a little bit and ran her fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to look more presentable, cursing herself for being ill.

"Come in," she said slowly, leaning on her headrest.

The door slid open and Lars practically leapt inside, then stopped still, looking at Megan. He had no words, because it was such a damn awkward reunion, and so he typed commands into his tricorder. The device chirped a series of responses to complicated queries, and he pretended to focus his attention on it, not being prepared with any glib line or a heroic reassurance at the moment.

"Your condition seems to be improving, Lieutenant," he lied, since he'd really been checking the room for electronic listening devices, out of old habit. Then emotion seized him and he dropped all pretense (and the tricorder) and fell to his knees beside her bed.

"Megan…I was...how are..." he stammered, but when words failed he just looked into her eyes, hoping for once that she would read his mind, and save him the difficulty of putting into words his unfamiliar emotions of concern and caring.

"You forget that I can tell when you lie," Megan said softly, laughing a little bit. "Then again that was more the look in your eyes than my empathy as it seems all of my abilities are failing me, but what can you do, right?"

She started to shrug until his movement startled her, the sounds of the tricorder hitting the carpet and Lars getting to his knees made her pause. Megan smiled fondly at him though, reaching out to stroke his hair and then cup his face, looking into his eyes. He cared so much more than she had thought he did and she patted the bed with her other hand, thumb tracing his lips tenderly.

"There's space for you...I could use a good reunion kiss and snuggle," she told him with a playful wink--she might have been losing herself to this virus until Lillian got there, but she would die happy and playful if it was the last thing she did.

HIs falsification discovered, Lars grinned wryly. Megan's soft laughter, so familiar to him, relieved his anxiety a bit. "I must be getting rusty, spending all that time in San Francisco. Anyway I've been monitoring the reports going around. It sounds like the medical research team on board the Mitterand has received sufficient data from the ground to synthesize antibodies. I'm sure any moment now your sister will arrive with a cure," he said reassuringly. "So hang in there. I can't lose you. I have enough enemies around here, so I need all the allies I can get," he said half-jokingly.

Lars peeled off his gloves and brushed some strands of hair from her face, then leaned in for a brief kiss, not wanting to overdo it right now. Still, he did cautiously lower himself onto the bed next to her, and held her as gently as he could, inwardly terrified of hurting her in her fragile state at the moment.

"I feel like a guilty teenager again, listening for your father out in the hall," he chuckled to disrupt his trepidation. Being discovered was actually a slight concern, since he didn't know the Crae parents well enough to judge their opinion on this.

He gazed into her eyes then. "I'm sorry we drifted apart. Work, you know," he offered lamely. "I've got some time saved up. I have to deliver the disarmed bomb to Starfleet Medical and debrief the Admiral, but that will give you some time to recover. After that we can get together again, I promise. If you want to, I mean," Lars added quickly.

Megan laughed a little. "My father knows all the things I know about you and let you come up here, so...feel special."

She snuggled into him as he held her, smiling a bit at his thoughts of her being fragile and nuzzling his face with her nose slowly before kissing him again. Megan had missed him. She'd been keeping busy and so had he, but he had come all this way just to see her and she wanted him to know how much that meant to her.

"I missed you, but work is work," she said slowly, looking at him and keeping eye contact. "I've never been good at commitment--I scare men off or they get so close that I freak out--but...if you want to try something, I am more than willing to try it. I like it better when you're here."

"He knows all the things you know about me?!" Lars asked in mock horror, then laughed at their shared memories of Starbase 7 and that brief period after. Feeling more contented with Megan in his arms than he had in a year of glamorous work at the Office of the Director of Starfleet Intelligence, he gently twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. He marveled for a moment at the sight of his bare finger, so rarely seen without gloves even by him, and did his best to ignore her low body temperature and pallid skin color, the likely result of the virus.

"I was a little freaked out myself, when I heard you were…sick," Lars put in carefully. "So how do you feel, really? And…about this disease…some day we need to talk…about your sister…and her acquaintances," he added quietly.

"When you heard that I was dying?" Megan asked him, taking as deep a breath as she could. "I feel like I'm nearing the end of my rope but I have complete faith in my sister. Lillian is one of the best that there is and she would never let me or her son down. She is far too determined for that."

She looked at him though as the other words sunk in. "If you want to know more about Doclin...a lot of things are for her to tell, not me. She has it in her mind that she needs to handle this her way and I would rather protect you than involve you more. I only know the parts of it that she lets me know, and when she's cured this I'm locking you up in my room."

With that she had to wink, desperate to be playful and not talk about Doclin.

Lars gave her a rueful grin. "Ah well, it wouldn't be the first time I've been locked up. And hopefully I'd enjoy that more than the stockade." But inwardly he was a little irked by her evasion. Everyone seemed to keeping secrets from him, and the nature of his personality and profession meant he did not care for it. Still, he supposed he should not pester Megan about all that. "Well, I guess--"

Just then his comm badge chimed. "Sir, Gunderson here. Ran a prox scan and saw that Marine is here. Downstairs. Want us to run him off?" his subordinate asked gruffly. Lars flinched at the interruption and at the mention of Taylor, but he had an idea.

"Negative, just take it easy," he responded over the comm. Looking down at Megan, he inquired "So are you up for going downstairs and being sociable? I have to say hello to some people."

"I've been off my feet cause it hurts, but...I wouldn't mind the company." Megan said honestly. "Besides, being down there would make it easier for Lillian to get to me, right? Can't stay in bed forever."

She laughed a little when she said it and then sat up a little bit, feeling pained and yet her need to be with people gave her some strength. Megan wanted to not be cooped up anymore it was just that this virus had really made her weak and in pain and walking just heightened the pain. With Lars' help, however, she was pretty certain that she could make it down the stairs without too much trouble.

"Just promise you won't let me stumble and fall down the stairs." Megan teased, but she was also dead serious. "And hey...if you honestly want to know some things about Doclin then I guess...when you come back to me after this we can talk about it."

|| Betazed
|| Crae Residence
|| TBD


Outside the Crae home, three forms materialized in a whirl of transporter particles. Taking shape at the front was Lars, wearing a rebreather to avoid coming into contact with airborne disease particles, but his uniform still visible to avoid spooking the civilian population.

The two Intel goons flanking him, though, were in full exposure suits with the eerie skull-like helmets designed to intimidate their victims without resorting to firepower. Their gender and species were obscured behind the helmets, and their voices were harsh and metallic through voice modulators. Fortunately they spoke little, but they did finger their disruptor rifles a little too eagerly as they followed Lars to the house.

Lars was a bit apprehensive, as he wasn't sure how the other members of the Crae family felt about him. He wasn't even sure how Megan would respond…if she still could, being infected. But he shook off that unpleasant thought and waved for his bodyguards to follow him at a slight distance as he made his way around to the front door.

Pausing a moment to collect himself, Lars eventually rang the door chime. "Is this the Crae residence?" he asked formally when the door slid open, his voice muffled by the rebreather. He knew it was, being an Intelligence officer and all that, but he still wanted to ease into the conversation.

Minas Crae was the Betazoid to answer the door to his home and he had a feeling such a visit would happen but he hadn't known when. In fact he hadn't known to which magnitude either. However, he had a young boy in the house and only the boy and Megan were infected because they were infected on purpose and he thought the suits were a little overboard--that they might scare Sareth.

"The air here is fine to breathe, please come in," he said politely, standing back to let the three enter his house. "Surely our own government would never allow its Ambassadors to become infected. Luckily, though, a cure is on its way so we can all eventually put this awful matter behind us. And you all are?"

He could read their minds and he planned to, skimming over their surface thoughts already, but he honestly just wanted to hear what they had to say. Minas understood that other cultures and species had other customs and he wanted more than anything to make sure that they all felt somewhat comfortable--that meant answering for themselves. Besides, he had a feeling that one of them was one of the men he had been looking forward to meeting...

Lars hesitated for a moment, then tore off his rebreather and gestured to his subordinates, who grudgingly tapped their helmets to retract them into the suits, revealing a bored looking human and a fidgety Tiburonian. The two slung their rifles and leaned against the wall in the entry hall, conversing in low voices as Lars stepped forward to address Minas.

"Lars Janssen, Starfleet Intelligence. I'm here to check up on Lieutenant Crae," he offered, trying to sound as professional as possible. "Starfleet Diplomatic is anxious to know her condition." That was only because he'd contacted them about it, to give himself a pretense to check up on her. "She's, uh, a valuable asset to them and they're quite concerned," Lars murmured hastily, nervous about revealing his personal interest in all this.

Minas smiled and nodded. "She is upstairs but I suggest one visitor at a time. She's a bit weak, Commander Janssen, so use your best judgment."

He had a good idea of why the man was here and he wasn't about to deny Megan a visit from him at all because he knew how she felt. Minas was a caring man and as protective as he was he honored his daughters' choices. So, he pointed up the stairs of their large estate.

"Second door on the right as you turn left at the top of the stairs," he instructed slowly. "After, you can stay for dinner."

Lars nodded sternly. "All right. Gunderson, Jeral, hold the stairs," he growled to his subordinates, who nodded and took up a casual sentry at the base of the stairs. Their bored expressions suggested they did not think there would be much in the way of threats, and also that they had some idea why their commander was really making this checkup. Pretending not to notice, Lars made his way up the stairs and down the hall, a tricorder in hand as a feeble attempt to make it look purely official.

Pausing outside of the second door on the right, he took a few deep breaths and collected his thoughts as best he could. This was a difficult situation for him, and Lars often dealt with difficult situations by avoiding them, but this was one responsibility he felt he could not duck. The thought of seeing Megan again made his throat dry and his hands shake, but the thought of her sickness made his anxiety worse. Mentally he cursed the nervousness that had held him back before in life, and with a sudden burst of resolve took the last step to the door.

"Lieutenant Crae?" he asked hesitantly after he had rung the door chime, wondering if anyone else was listening.

Well, that was a voice Megan hadn't heard in a long time.

She sat up a little bit, cringing as she went, gathering up what she could muster of some sort of strong voice and decided to let her words do some talking for her. Lars was the last person that she expected to come into her house even if she was dying, but he would be a welcome sight. She smiled a little bit and ran her fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to look more presentable, cursing herself for being ill.

"Come in," she said slowly, leaning on her headrest.

The door slid open and Lars practically leapt inside, then stopped still, looking at Megan. He had no words, because it was such a damn awkward reunion, and so he typed commands into his tricorder. The device chirped a series of responses to complicated queries, and he pretended to focus his attention on it, not being prepared with any glib line or a heroic reassurance at the moment.

"Your condition seems to be improving, Lieutenant," he lied, since he'd really been checking the room for electronic listening devices, out of old habit. Then emotion seized him and he dropped all pretense (and the tricorder) and fell to his knees beside her bed.

"Megan…I was...how are..." he stammered, but when words failed he just looked into her eyes, hoping for once that she would read his mind, and save him the difficulty of putting into words his unfamiliar emotions of concern and caring.

"You forget that I can tell when you lie," Megan said softly, laughing a little bit. "Then again that was more the look in your eyes than my empathy as it seems all of my abilities are failing me, but what can you do, right?"

She started to shrug until his movement startled her, the sounds of the tricorder hitting the carpet and Lars getting to his knees made her pause. Megan smiled fondly at him though, reaching out to stroke his hair and then cup his face, looking into his eyes. He cared so much more than she had thought he did and she patted the bed with her other hand, thumb tracing his lips tenderly.

"There's space for you...I could use a good reunion kiss and snuggle," she told him with a playful wink--she might have been losing herself to this virus until Lillian got there, but she would die happy and playful if it was the last thing she did.

HIs falsification discovered, Lars grinned wryly. Megan's soft laughter, so familiar to him, relieved his anxiety a bit. "I must be getting rusty, spending all that time in San Francisco. Anyway I've been monitoring the reports going around. It sounds like the medical research team on board the Mitterand has received sufficient data from the ground to synthesize antibodies. I'm sure any moment now your sister will arrive with a cure," he said reassuringly. "So hang in there. I can't lose you. I have enough enemies around here, so I need all the allies I can get," he said half-jokingly.

Lars peeled off his gloves and brushed some strands of hair from her face, then leaned in for a brief kiss, not wanting to overdo it right now. Still, he did cautiously lower himself onto the bed next to her, and held her as gently as he could, inwardly terrified of hurting her in her fragile state at the moment.

"I feel like a guilty teenager again, listening for your father out in the hall," he chuckled to disrupt his trepidation. Being discovered was actually a slight concern, since he didn't know the Crae parents well enough to judge their opinion on this.

He gazed into her eyes then. "I'm sorry we drifted apart. Work, you know," he offered lamely. "I've got some time saved up. I have to deliver the disarmed bomb to Starfleet Medical and debrief the Admiral, but that will give you some time to recover. After that we can get together again, I promise. If you want to, I mean," Lars added quickly.

Megan laughed a little. "My father knows all the things I know about you and let you come up here, so...feel special."

She snuggled into him as he held her, smiling a bit at his thoughts of her being fragile and nuzzling his face with her nose slowly before kissing him again. Megan had missed him. She'd been keeping busy and so had he, but he had come all this way just to see her and she wanted him to know how much that meant to her.

"I missed you, but work is work," she said slowly, looking at him and keeping eye contact. "I've never been good at commitment--I scare men off or they get so close that I freak out--but...if you want to try something, I am more than willing to try it. I like it better when you're here."

"He knows all the things you know about me?!" Lars asked in mock horror, then laughed at their shared memories of Starbase 7 and that brief period after. Feeling more contented with Megan in his arms than he had in a year of glamorous work at the Office of the Director of Starfleet Intelligence, he gently twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. He marveled for a moment at the sight of his bare finger, so rarely seen without gloves even by him, and did his best to ignore her low body temperature and pallid skin color, the likely result of the virus.

"I was a little freaked out myself, when I heard you were…sick," Lars put in carefully. "So how do you feel, really? And…about this disease…some day we need to talk…about your sister…and her acquaintances," he added quietly.

"When you heard that I was dying?" Megan asked him, taking as deep a breath as she could. "I feel like I'm nearing the end of my rope but I have complete faith in my sister. Lillian is one of the best that there is and she would never let me or her son down. She is far too determined for that."

She looked at him though as the other words sunk in. "If you want to know more about Doclin...a lot of things are for her to tell, not me. She has it in her mind that she needs to handle this her way and I would rather protect you than involve you more. I only know the parts of it that she lets me know, and when she's cured this I'm locking you up in my room."

With that she had to wink, desperate to be playful and not talk about Doclin.

Lars gave her a rueful grin. "Ah well, it wouldn't be the first time I've been locked up. And hopefully I'd enjoy that more than the stockade." But inwardly he was a little irked by her evasion. Everyone seemed to keeping secrets from him, and the nature of his personality and profession meant he did not care for it. Still, he supposed he should not pester Megan about all that. "Well, I guess--"

Just then his comm badge chimed. "Sir, Gunderson here. Ran a prox scan and saw that Marine is here. Downstairs. Want us to run him off?" his subordinate asked gruffly. Lars flinched at the interruption and at the mention of Taylor, but he had an idea.

"Negative, just take it easy," he responded over the comm. Looking down at Megan, he inquired "So are you up for going downstairs and being sociable? I have to say hello to some people."

"I've been off my feet cause it hurts, but...I wouldn't mind the company." Megan said honestly. "Besides, being down there would make it easier for Lillian to get to me, right? Can't stay in bed forever."

She laughed a little when she said it and then sat up a little bit, feeling pained and yet her need to be with people gave her some strength. Megan wanted to not be cooped up anymore it was just that this virus had really made her weak and in pain and walking just heightened the pain. With Lars' help, however, she was pretty certain that she could make it down the stairs without too much trouble.

"Just promise you won't let me stumble and fall down the stairs." Megan teased, but she was also dead serious. "And hey...if you honestly want to know some things about Doclin then I guess...when you come back to me after this we can talk about it."

Lars stood quickly and braced himself to leap in should Megan falter as she tried to stand. "That's the spirit. And from what the reports tell me you'll be lucky, they've synthesized a much more gentle cure than the initial versions. No nausea, so they say," he offered in the spirit of conversation.

But he saw that walking pained her, and he was torn. On the one hand Lars knew that Megan was a strong-willed woman, unwilling to acknowledge personal weaknesses, and that was part of why he was attracted to her. On the other hand the sight of her in pain was in turn painful to him, and so with a deep breath he scooped her up in his arms and proceeded to carry her gently down the stairs, ignoring how frail she felt as a result of the disease.

"This should make for a more dramatic entrance, and you know I've always been one with a flare for the dramatic, eh?" He nervously laughed it off, to try and forestall any objections she might have. "And don't worry too much about…all that," he said quietly in response to her comment about Doclin. Lars had decided Megan was the one person in the galaxy he would not pester too much about that particular problem. She had earned it.