Disclaimer: See chapter one.

Temporal Anomaly, Chapter Four

"So let me get this straight. The people who broke into your loft not only didn't mean to and didn't really break in, they're a Sentinel and Guide from almost four hundred years in the future? And you believe this?"

Jim sighed. "I know how it sounds, sir. That's why we didn't just take it on faith. But what she said came true, and given that nothing was taken or damaged and I can't figure out how they got in there, what she told us fit. We know that Christopher is a Sentinel, and it's obvious that Emily's his Guide. I get the feeling that something big's going on with this Q, and whatever it is, it's going to take both groups to fix it."

Simon took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. This was really becoming a long day. "Why wouldn't Christopher tell you anything?"

Blair said, "Apparently he's some kind of military officer. She called the organization Starfleet. They have a directive that says if you find yourself in the past you can't do anything that might alter the future. They're probably very strict about it with the officers, but Emily's a civilian scientist. I'm guessing its not the law, its regulations, and she's not Starfleet." He grinned. "Sounds close enough to 'You're not a cop.' to me."

Jim snorted. Simon just groaned and under his breath where only Jim could hear it he said, "What did I do to deserve having to deal with two Sandburgs and two Ellisons?" Jim moved his hand to his mouth to cover a laugh. Simon glared at the both of them, then dropped it, a look of resignation crossing his features. He sighed and said, "All right. You two go drop the charges on Christopher then take him over to the hospital. You have anything on the Harborman robberies yet?"

Jim said, "Yes, sir." He handed Simon the blow up. "This is an enhancement of one of the frames on that tape. We have half of a prison tattoo. It shouldn't be too hard to find a match in the computer, and Sandburg can work on that tonight."

"Good. The mayor's been breathing down my neck on this one, and I'd like it resolved, fast. Which I know you always do anyway, but you'll be distracted a bit with your, um, relatives. That'll be all, gentlemen." As his two best detectives left his office, he wondered if he would be able to survive this latest trip into the Sandburg Zone.

Down in lockup, they got Chris out, Jim checking over the injuries once they were out of the cell block. He was annoyed by the fussing, but he knew the man had medical training, so he endured it. He said, "Can I go see Emily?"

Blair nodded. "Yeah, we were headed over there next. You just have to sign the paper work with the desk sergeant, and we'll get out of here."

Emily saw Chris through the open door and broke into a broad grin. The top half of her bed had been elevated, so she just had to lean forward a bit to catch her Sentinel's quick embrace. "I'm so glad you're all right, Chris!"

"Me? You're the one who got hit by a car. What did the doctors say?"

"Nothing worse than a couple of broken ribs and a nasty case of road rash. Nothing that won't heal fairly quickly, as long as I take it easy." A glint of mischief twinkled in her eyes. "Also nothing that would ruin my good looks."

Chris grinned. "Can't have that." He sighed. "I hate having to leave you in the hands of twenty-first century medicine!"

She chuckled, shaking her head. "At least we're not even further back! These people at least have monitoring equipment and a good idea of what's supposed to go where. What if we'd ended up in the Ancient West, or the Civil War?"

Chris thought about it and shuddered. Those conditions were worse than most field conditions he'd had to deal with. Even when he was on that damned moon, L'Arcon, he'd had a tricorder and a modern field kit that had a tiny medical replicator and a water filter. He was definitely glad that they hadn't ended up in the nineteenth century. He changed the subject. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine! Just a little achy here and there. They gave me pain medication, so I have no problems at the moment." She turned to the detectives who were standing at the end of the bed. "So what now?"

Jim looked at her and answered, "Since you didn't actually break in, we're dropping the charges. We told Captain Banks about you two, but no one else knows. Officially, the record will just be 'no harm, no foul.' Blair is well known for being too compassionate for his own good, so it'll be believable. Do you have any idea how long you're going to be here?"

Emily shook her head wryly. "The Q are all very different. Some people have been able to predict them, to a point, but it's not easy, and the kid's a new player. He's not only Q, but he's also basically a teenager. He's just a kid, and every other member of his race is infinitely older than he is. He has a beginning. They don't. There's no telling what that kind of pressure has done to his head."

Chris snorted at the verbose explanation. "In other words, he's highly unpredictable and we haven't got a clue." He jerked his head to indicate his Guide. "Is that genetic?"

Jim grinned at his descendent. "Probably." Then he grew serious. "Since you don't know how long you two are going to be in our time, it would probably be a good idea if you got settled in as soon as the docs release you. You're going to need a place to live and jobs to support yourselves, and that's going to be hard to get with no prior records of any kind. Now, I own the entire building where the loft is except for the bakery. I'll let you stay in one of the empty apartments rent free. 209 is empty. It's small, just one bedroom, a hundred and eighty square feet, but hopefully by the time it would start to feel cramped, the punk will let you go back home."

Jim and Blair went back to work on the Harborman robberies, leaving Chris and Emily in the loft so that the xenopologist could recuperate in comfort. Jim tried several times to convince Emily to tell him what she knew, but she stonewalled him. "You're the detective! You figure it out!"

They soon managed to track down both the tattoo and the odd odor that had been at the crime scene. The tattoo belonged to a third-time loser named Jack Bell, who'd done time for theft and B&E. He had a serious problem with snuff, and the warden had tried to help him quit with an herbal substitute, which was what Jim had been smelling at the crime scenes. They checked his mail and phone logs and found that he had been getting letters and calls from Harborman's home over the last three months of his incarceration, and the first break in was only two weeks after Bell got out. Suspecting insurance fraud, Jim went after Harborman, but when he confronted the man in his home, Harborman started yelling at his estranged wife. Turned out that she had hired the men to commit the robberies in a vindictive move to throw him off his game during the divorce proceedings. After closing the case, Jim apologized to Emily and promised to never ask again.

The weeks that followed were strange for the pair from the future. Emily was used to integrating herself into different cultures and slid in without too much trouble. After all, the culture of Earth in the 24th century was very similar to that of the late 20th and early 21st centuries. Even Chris didn't have too much trouble with that part. It was the little things, though, that caused them problems.

The first time Chris tried to take a shower, just after Emily was released from the hospital, he had to get Jim to show him how to use the knobs, a thoroughly embarrassing situation. Jim tried mightily to suppress his laughter, knowing Chris was just not used to this lower level of technology, but he failed, and within minutes, both were laughing at the incident.

Then came Emily's first attempt at washing laundry. She took her's and Chris's dirty clothes down to the basement, where the building's laundry room was located. She had a box of Ivory Snow, the detergent that she remembered from Blair's journals as being Sentinel-friendly, and didn't think to check on how much to use. She loaded the washer, making sure she had the right machine, and then went to add the detergent. She looked at the little scoop that was included in the box, and decided that three was probably a good amount to get the clothes clean. She poured in the powered soap, and then went back up stairs to check on the dinner she was making.

When she went back down thirty minutes later to put the clothes in the dryer, the resulting surprised shout drew the attention of both Sentinels, and they and Blair all went down to see what was wrong. They found her waist deep in suds, cursing in a language that no one recognized, trying to find the evil machine that held her laundry captive. They all tried to keep from laughing at her troubles, but a snicker escaped Blair's throat. Emily twirled around to glare at him, causing masses of bubbles to float up out of the sea of soap and air. This caused Chris to start chuckling, and soon all three men were howling with laughter.

Emily tried to stay mad, just standing there with her arms crossed over her chest and glaring at them, her lower lip pouted out and a bits of suds sticking in her hair and on her nose. Still chuckling, and not wanting his Guide angry with him, Chris walked over to her, braving the soap and her temper to calm her down and get her to see the humor in the situation. He reached up and flicked the suds off of her nose, grinning at her. Finally, the hilarity of the whole mess broke through and she started to smile, and then she flicked some of the slippery stuff at his face.

Feeling the need for retaliation, Chris had soon started a sud war and efficiently dragged Jim and Blair into it. When they were discovered later by Mrs. Walton from 106, all were covered in suds and playing like children. She sighed and walked back to her apartment, grumbling about infantile cops and their weird relatives. That set Chris and Jim off again, and the two Guides demanded simultaneously, "What's so funny?" That, of course, just made them laugh harder.

For the first month, other simple technologies that had been replaced centuries before in their time, things like personal computers, radios, and cell phones, caused Chris and Emily grief, embarrassment and tons of good laughs. They usually did okay in public, but the mall was quite an experience for both of them. It wasn't unlike a hundred market places that Emily had been in, but taking Chris there almost proved to be a mistake. She had to help him with the dials quickly, and there was so much continual stimulation, he was either spiking or zoning almost continually. Eventually, though, they were able to fine tune his control enough to get him out of there and back to their apartment, where they could work on his handling of multiple stimuli. This caused Chris to start griping about tests. Jim chuckled from above in the loft. "It's genetic! All Sandburgs must annoy Ellisons with tests!"

Chris glared at the ceiling in the direction from which his ancestor's voice had come. "Laugh all you want, Grandpa. Just be careful, or I might sic her on you!"

"Grandpa!? Kids these days! No respect for their elders!"

Finding the younger Sentinel and Guide jobs was difficult, as neither had any records of any kind, any proof that they existed, but eventually, desperate employers and endorsements from Jim and Blair put Emily behind the counter at Collette's Bakery, in the same building as the loft, and got Chris in with Quest Construction. Both received their pay in cash, and it was all put onto Jim's taxes so that there were no laws being broken.

With the money they made working, Chris and Emily moved into #209, furnishing it through reputable second-hand stores and bargain sales. They didn't need much, small as the place was, and within three months, they were firmly established in their little home.

When Chris got nervous about the changes they could be making to history, Emily was glad to reassure him. "Those changes are pretty small, don't worry. I remember that, when I inherited the building, this apartment had been bricked up, which was why I didn't check it out. I'll bet that's Blair's doing. Whenever Q decides to send us back, if you can get leave to come back to Earth, we should come back and open it. I'll bet that, however we leave it, it's exactly the same, just dustier. Jim and Blair are very good at keeping secrets. They've had to be, and we have been very careful about changing things. We don't give out information about the future, we don't talk about future history where anyone can hear us, even Jim, and we've learned how to blend in. There shouldn't be any problems."

The lieutenant nodded. "You're right. Do you think we're acclimated enough that we could meet the rest of Major Crime? Introduce ourselves as relatives? I'd love to get to know them before Q gets bored and sends us back."

They gradually made the tiny apartment into a home, using what little was left over from their checks to furnish and decorate it. Emily even painted it, adding a thin decorative border around the tops of the walls that used Vulcan symbols of logic and the Chopec symbols of Love, Honor, and Protection. The two sets were strangely compatible as design elements, and the rooms looked astounding.

As the months wore on, the time travelers became more and more integrated, not making the kinds of temporal mistakes, like trying to talk to the personal computers or forgetting to lock their front door, that had marked their first month. They were able to meet the rest of Major Crime, quickly becoming just as well liked as their ancestors. They also got to meet William and Steven Ellison, as well as Naomi Sandburg. The first meeting with the senior Ellison was an incredibly stuffy affair in which William managed to piss off both Sentinels with amazing ease. He tried three times to find out about the future of his business, and he wouldn't take no for an answer. Finally, Chris had to quote regulations at the man to get him to shut up. Steven had the grace to be embarrassed about his father's insistence, but he wasn't exactly sociable either.

Things went much better with Naomi. She just showed up out of the blue one day while Jim and Blair were out on a case and Chris and Emily were bringing things up to their apartment for dinner. She assumed they were just friends of the detectives, and neither could really get a word in edge wise, so it remained that way until Jim and Blair got home. She helped them cook, and they tried to keep her from rearranging the furniture. Emily's exasperated comment that the woman acted just like her Aunt Ruth struck him as funny and she had a hard time trying to explain why he was laughing his head off when he was across the room.

When Jim and Blair walked in the door, it was to Chris and Naomi in the kitchen, Naomi chattering on about the benefits of sage, and Chris reminding her that both he and Jim were allergic to the stuff. Emily was giggling from the couch and trying to keep Naomi from seeing it, even though there was no way that she could keep it from Chris. The detectives set Naomi straight as to who Emily and Chris were and how they were here. Naomi then had just one question. "You're from the future? Wow! So tell me, when is Blair going to get married?"

"Mom!" Blair blushed to the roots of his hair at the interfering question.

Emily just grinned. "I can't even tell you if he will. It could cause him to change history, maybe to the point where he never has any kids, and then where am I?"

"Oh. I hear that."

Emily just groaned. "Yep, just like Aunt Ruth." Which started Chris laughing again.

Chris and Emily grew closer and closer, spending all their time together and learning each other's quirks and personalities, until finally, on a rare sunny day in May, while walking along the beach, Chris guided Emily to a storm-tossed log and sat her down on it. He knelt before her in the sand, and held her hand in both of his own, kneading the back of it with his thumbs. He said quietly, "You and I have become partners, Em. We work together as well as Jim and Blair, and they've been at this a lot longer than we have. But more than that, I've found myself thinking of you not just as a partner, but as someone I could spend the rest of my life with." He looked up into her eyes. "I haven't even dated since I was rescued from L'Arcon. I couldn't trust anyone to get that close to me and not leave. But with you... I know that even if you were killed, you'd still be with me." He sighed. "Just the thought of losing you scares me witless. I don't know if I'd ever be able to forgive myself, but I do know that it would hurt worse if I never knew you in the first place. I love you, Emily Sandburg, and I would be honored if you would become my wife." He pulled a small black velvet box out of his pants pocket, opening it to reveal a gold band set with a beautiful glittering diamond. "Will you marry me?"

Emily stared at the simple, beautiful ring, shocked and delighted all at once. She looked up at the man she loved, the man who was being so brave as to bare his heart to her and reveal how easily she could break it if she chose, something she knew she would never do intentionally. Then she chuckled, smiling at the man who would soon be her husband. At his raised eyebrow, she said, "You know, I'm going to have to thank Blair. Without his journals, I'm sure I would have screwed up being your Guide. He and Jim had to deal with so many trust issues over the years, but I could see their mistakes and avoid making them myself. And now here we are, you trusting me so far that you can open yourself up to me. I've loved you for a long time, Chris. I think I've loved you since you threatened to decompress Moloney." Chris laughed, remembering when the ensign who had suffered from post-traumatic stress had tried to kill Emily thinking she was Jem'Hadar. His threat to kill the ensign had shocked her, but she hadn't let it phase her, and she'd managed to convince him that it would be a really bad idea. "You proved to me then that you thought I was valuable, and I've never been that before. If it would honor you to marry me, it would also honor me to marry you. I love you, Christopher Ellison."

The next day, they went to the station to talk to Captain Banks. They had discussed it, and they thought he would be perfect to officiate at their wedding. When the asked him, he stared at them in shock. "Why me? My own marriage didn't last."

Chris smiled at him. "Making it last is our responsibility, not yours. It's Starfleet tradition that the Captain of a ship officiate the marriages of any of their crew. Captain Peters isn't available, and I get the feeling that, had I been born in the twentieth century instead of the twenty-fourth, I would be one of your men. We'd be honored, sir, if you would marry us on the first of June."

Simon shook his head, a slow smile spreading across his countenance. "If that's what you want, the honor is mine." Then he grinned. "At least one Sandburg respects me."

With a twinkle in her eye, Emily said, "Oh, Blair respects you just fine, Simon. He just likes to keep you on your toes."

Chris snorted. "And believe me, that's genetic, too. Em is the only being in space who gets away with calling Benjamin Peters 'Benny.' Not the smartest thing to do with a man who could twist rebar into a pretzel if he wanted."

Emily just winked at him, completely unrepentant. "Be careful, Ellison, or you just might end up in a Betazoid wedding."

Chris blushed to the roots of his hair. "You wouldn't!"

Simon raised an eyebrow at them. "Why would this be such a bad thing?"

Emily grinned evilly. "The dress code is very strict. Wear one stitch of clothing, and you aren't allowed into the ceremony."

The wedding was fairly small, Jim as Chris's best man, Blair as Emily's best man (she insisted she could have one, and no one who knew her was about to go against the statement), and Simon officiating, the rest of Major Crime in the audience, along with the crew from Collette's Bakery, Naomi, and a few others here and there who'd made friends with the couple. It wasn't exactly a traditional wedding, Emily sneaking in cultural touches from other races here and there, as well as adding a touch of the Sandburg Zone, but it was elegant, and without the threatened Betazoid-style dress code.

The color scheme was white and gray-blue, with accents of gold and green. The gray-blue color was not one commonly used, so it was fairly inexpensive to obtain, and it didn't clash with the PD dress uniforms. Emily had done her best to imitate the Starfleet dress uniform, the newer white one, and though it wasn't perfect and couldn't have the Starfleet insignia on it for obvious reasons, Chris appreciated it. There were candles and evergreen garlands all over the small church that had allowed them to use their auditorium, with white and gray-blue ribbons tied to all the pews.

Chris stood nervously at the end of the aisle, Jim and the rest of Major Crime ribbing him good naturedly about loosing his freedom. He took the teasing in good humor, but most of his attention was focused on the large double doors at the back of the room. Jim watched him closely, knowing his descendant was ripe for a zone-out, and not wanting his special day to be ruined by that kind of embarrassment.

Then, as the clock finished striking noon, Jim hit the play button on the stereo that sat unobtrusively beside the podium. A rare recording of a Chopec pipe and drum duet floated into the room. Jim and Blair had visited them after Sandburg had graduated from the Police Academy in order to decompress before starting his new career, and he had recorded the hauntingly lovely music during the trip. Emily, of course, had the same recording, having inherited it, along with the rest of the loft, and had always enjoyed it, so she had asked him to borrow it for the wedding. Since it was a love song anyway, it was completely appropriate.

The music starting was the signal for the doors to open, revealing the bride. Emily had made the dress herself, just as she had made Chris's outfit. It had a simple design, flowing straight down in the front and flaring into a long train in the back and trimmed along the hem, cuffs and seams in gold braiding. The bouquet was made of greenery and violets and peppered here and there with baby's breath.

Emily's eyes never left Chris's as she walked down the aisle. She could tell he had zoned out and whispered to Jim to knock him out of it. Jim tapped him on the back, and to the bride's relief, he blinked. She grinned at him and he smiled back, a bit sheepishly. To prevent a recurrence of that light zone, Emily started talking under her breath. "You know, it's not polite to leave your own wedding. I want your full attention, Lieutenant Ellison, and if I get it, you'll be rewarded later."

Once she arrived at the end of the aisle, he took her hand and said, "You did have my full attention, you know. It was you I zoned on. You're just so beautiful, and I love you so much!"

At the podium, Simon cleared his throat, grabbing the attention of the bride and groom, and then addressed them and the gathering. "In certain military traditions, when an officer or any of his family were ready to be married, they could either go to the priest or to the officer's captain. It has always been an honor to be asked.

"When two people fall in love, when they know it's real, they want to get married. Now, they know, and we know, that there are plenty of bumps in that road, but I believe that it's possible to make it to forever, and so do they. Emily Sandburg, do you vow to cherish and love this man, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do you part?"

Emily replied, "In all my travels through lands and cultures which shall remain nameless, I have never felt what I feel for you. I've been in love with you almost from the second time we met, and I could never love another this way. I can't even imagine it. I vow to love and cherish you, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do us part."

Simon nodded and turned to Chris. "Christopher Ellison, do you vow to love and cherish this woman, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do you part?"

Chris blinked, then said, "I've lived in hell before. I know what it feels like, what it smells like, and when I try to imagine what I would ever do without you, that's what I see. I love the sound of your voice and taste of true freedom you've given me. I love you with everything I have, everything I am, and I'll never stop. I vow to love and cherish you, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do us part, and longer if I can."

Emily grinned broadly at the addition. Sentinel soft, she whispered, "That's not in the script!" He just grinned back at her.

Simon looked at Jim. "The rings, please?" Jim took them out of his pocket and handed them to Chris. Emily turned and handed her bouquet to Blair. "Christopher, repeat after me. With this ring, symbol of eternity, I thee wed." The rings were placed on the fingers of their recipients, the ritual repeated by each. Then Simon smiled broadly. "If any here should have any reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace." Chris glared at the audience, and if one were a Sentinel, one might have heard the screeching challenge of a cat that had never set foot on Earth. When no one spoke, Simon said, "Then by the authority vested in me by the State of Washington, I now pronounce you man and wife. Now kiss the girl and seal this thing!"

Chris grinned. "Aye, sir." Perhaps answering that way wasn't the best of ideas in a room full of detectives, but it was a small risk, and probably the most anyone would guess was that he was former Navy. He took Emily's face in his hands, staring into her eyes. Their lips met and their eyes fluttered closed as their mouths opened and the kiss deepened. The gathering broke into applause and the two broke apart, smiling wistfully at each other.

The reception was a simple affair, with music and dancing and a three-foot cake, the first piece of which managed to get smeared all over Chris's face, prompting him to start a tickle war. Then, after the bouquet and the bird seed were thrown, the happy couple got into the rented limo and left for the Cascade Towers Hotel, where they would spend their honeymoon. Jim had tried to convince them to take it somewhere more exotic, saying that he would gladly pay for the trip, but Chris and Emily had discussed it and agreed that they could visit far more exotic locales when they were returned to their own time, and just being in this time was enough.

A week later, Emily and Chris returned to their apartment, sated and tired from a solid week of romance. They were laughing at some stupid joke Emily had made about the nature of male dominated societies, when just as they stepped into the apartment, a flash of light caught their attention. "Well, well, the happy couple returns home." It was the young Q. "I suppose you two had fun."

Chris growled, "What do you want, kid?"

The boy grinned. "Temper, temper, Lieutenant. No reason to be hostile. I've only come to give you fair warning. The fun is about to begin." And with that, he flashed out and was gone.

The Ellisons looked at each other, their tired happiness replaced by caution. Things were about to get interesting, in a Chinese curse kind of way.

Okay, this is the last of the old stuff. We've got the wedding and a nice little cliff-hanger. Now the action gets to get started again. I hope Mirai Trunks is watching. You're still the only review I got, so this is for you. On to the next chapter!