Without the usual hustle and bustle of Sickbay, Joanna can hear her father in the outer ward talking to Captain Jim. His anger has long since faded. In its place, misery seems to have taken hold, the kind that cannot be hidden easily from a precocious child.

Leonard is saying: "I'm a terrible father."

While she listens, Joanna touches the newly regenerated skin of her knees and thinks of curling under the biobed's blanket, though she knows it would do no good to hide again. Her father sounds so defeated. It makes her feel small.

"Jim, I have no excuse. I know firsthand how dangerous being on this blasted ship can be, but I still let her come aboard."

"Bones..."

The man goes on as if no one else is speaking. "Tell me, what kind of father does that make me?"

"Bones, would you stop?"

"She could have died!"

"McCoy, enough. You're overreac—"

A laugh, sharp and bitter, cuts through Jim's command. "Overreacting? How would you know? You're not a father!"

"No," Jim's voice is harder now, "but I am the guy who spent the last five years helping you pull your head out of your ass when it comes to your own kid. So don't screw this up. For either of us."

"What's that mean?"

"It means I have a right to care."

Joanna twists her fingers.

The one person who has not left her side since her reappearance watches her expression closely, as if trying to decipher how upset she might be. He starts toward the open door but Joanna's simple act of reaching out to Spock stops him from keying it closed.

She wants to hear the rest.

"I get it, Bones. Joanna needs to be safe. I would never disagree with that. But you'll do her no favors by trying to shield her all the time, and you'll do even more damage by pushing her away. She won't come to you again on her own. You know that."

Her father's words have grown softer. "Yeah, I know. I'm not sure I deserved it the first time."

"You didn't. She's just that great of a kid."

Her father's drawl deepens in response to his distress. "What if—I wonder if—"

"No."

Joanna has never heard Captain Jim sound so implacable.

"Don't dare to wonder, Bones. Be grateful for a daughter who is willing to cross a country to find you, who will brave a space shuttle just to see you for a few days though it terrifies her." Jim's voice gets lower. "Because if you do start to wonder, then you really are a terrible father."

"That's harsh, kid."

"It's true."

"I didn't mean to make them fight," Joanna whispers.

"The Captain is telling Dr. McCoy something he needs to hear." Mr. Spock hesitates, stepping closer to her. "But I do not think it benefits you to listen to them. I should close door."

That last statement sounds more like a question, one to which Joanna vehemently shakes her head.

"Please don't."

"Why?"

She cannot easily explain her reasoning. Her feelings are just too jumbled. Eavesdropping is wrong, she knows that, but the thought of not hearing her father leaves her more frightened than ever.

In response to Joanna's helplessness, Spock extends his hand.

"May I?" he asks softly.

For the first time since Joanna met him, apprehension takes a hold of her. She has heard that Vulcans can read minds, although she has never seen it done, let alone had it done to her.

Spock is not offended by her show of hesitancy. He says equably, "I see that you are aware I have some telepathic ability. Rest assured, I have no intention of entering your mind, Joanna. You are too young to fully comprehend the risk, therefore you are too young to consent."

"Oh."

"However, my ability is such that when I lower my shields and concentrate, I can feel some of your stronger emotions and surface thoughts. But feeling," he clarifies, "is not discerning, and I would rather not hazard a guess with so little information. Physical contact would make your state of mind clearer to me. It would not be invasive."

"Does it hurt?"

"You would experience no discomfort."

"I meant, does it hurt you?"

She can tell he is startled by the suggestion.

"It does not."

Joanna offers her hand.

Spock connects their fingertips briefly, then moves his hand to her face to trace her cheekbone. The sensation lasts only for a second.

The Vulcan tucks his hands behind his back. "I understand," is all that he says.

Carefully, Joanna watches him. "Is it... bad?"

The skin around Spock's eyes softens the tiniest bit. "No," he tells the child. "Your father loves you, Joanna. His fear does not lessen that love for you. On the contrary, it reminds him just how precious you are."

She sniffles and nods her head. "Okay, I believe you. You would never lie to me, Mr. Spock."

"I have not, and I never shall," he replies solemnly.

Joanna realizes, then, that the conversation in the other part of Sickbay has ceased. She turns her head to find Captain Jim leaning in the doorway. Her father is behind him, partially hidden, expression unreadable.

Jim steps forward and makes a slight motion with his hand. Joanna doesn't know what it means but apparently her Vulcan watch-guard does. He obediently goes to his captain, allowing a touch to his shoulder. Then Captain Jim turns and disappears from view of the examination room with Mr. Spock in step beside him, leaving Joanna alone with her father.

He comes toward her slowly, finds a chair and sets it beside her.

Joanna doesn't say anything—doesn't want to. She slips off the bed's edge and leans into the one man she has loved her whole life. A hug is just the comfort they both need.

"Mission," Joanna McCoy, in her pajamas, says to the reflection in the mirror, "failed."

Her reflection looks very displeased to hear this.

Joanna continues to brush her hair and think on the events of the past week. At last, she lays her hairbrush down and plants her hands on top of the bathroom counter.

Leaning forward, she challenges the girl in the mirror, "So... what are you going to do about it?"

The girl smiles.

"Good idea!" Joanna congratulates herself. "Captain Jim says there are no such things as no-win scenarios."

Humming a tune only she knows, she ties her long hair back into a ponytail and locates her toothbrush. From the adjacent room, her father inquires if she is ready for bed. Joanna lets him know that she is.

If her father could have read her mind as Vulcan could, he would have learned in that moment that his child is capable of coming up with a plan that will shave years off his life—and in no small part thanks to her association with the people to whom he introduced her.

Later, Leonard tucks her in and kisses her forehead while Joanna smiles sweetly at him. When she pats the top of his hand, he lifts an eyebrow in a silent question.

"Nothing," she says.

"You sure?" he asks.

"Uh-huh."

"Okay, darlin'. Sleep tight."

"Night, Daddy."

Once the lights are lowered and her father has returned to his desk in the other room, Joanna flings back her blanket and sits up. She hurriedly arranges two extra pillows into the shape of her body, covers them up, and dons her shoes. Then through the bathroom she goes, past a door and into the quarters of another officer. She sidles right up to said officer's bed and pokes the bare foot hanging off the side.

"Wake up!"

The muffled response is nonsensical.

Joanna does what she has to: she yanks the man, covers and all, off the bed, dumping both onto the floor with a fierce demand of "Get up!"

The man who scrambles belatedly into a sloppy defensive stance, looking about as dangerous as a turtle on its back, is Mr. Scott. His boxers have little red hearts on them.

Joanna wrinkles her nose. "Your taste in underwear is very poor."

Finally realizing who has awoken him, Scotty shrieks and covers himself with a blanket. "By gods, lass! What are ye doin' in here?!"

"We're going hunting."

"What?"

"Hunting," she repeats patiently, turning for the other part of his cabin behind the partition and, beyond that, the entrance to the rest of the ship. "You'll need pants."

"Wait," the engineer cries after her, tripping himself up in his own blanket and banging into various furniture in his path, "I dinnae know what's happening!"

"Hurry up now," she calls back, "or I'll tell my dad I saw your private parts. I'll even cry a little bit too!"

Mr. Scott, it seems, can move extremely fast when he sets his mind to it.

Joanna approves.

Despite being a seasoned senior officer on Starfleet's flagship, Montgomery Scott is a nervous man. He has been jumping at shadows and checking over his shoulder every few steps. Joanna had to explain to him that they weren't literally on a hunt—and, even so, their strategy would be to entice their prey, not scare them off by making a bunch of noise.

"You're not good at spy stuff, are you?" she questions her companion.

Mr. Scott's gaze darts around. "One time I snuck into a secret base, then snuck onto a secret ship."

"Did you get caught?"

"...Yes."

"Point made."

"Lass, if you told me where we're going, I know I would feel better."

"Don't you know where you are?"

"Uh, we just passed Auxiliary and Weapons. Next is... Life Support. Oh no, we cannae be headed there... can we?"

Joanna strides past the turn to Life Support. "Maybe next time."

Mr. Scott hurries to catch up to her. "I have this very bad feeling. If your dad finds out you're missing—"

She lifts a hand to silence him. "He won't. I promise."

"But if he does..."

"I can hit you over the head, and we'll pretend I forced you to cooperate."

Scotty places a hand to the side of his head at the suggestion. "Can't we just tell the truth and say you blackmailed me?"

"Do you really want to mention the part where you had no pants?"

"Never mind."

Joanna points ahead. "Stay alert. You'll need your access code."

In a last ditch effort to persuade her out of whatever scheme she is about to embroil him in, Scotty half-pleads, "I thought your father had a talk with you."

"He talks to me about lots of things, Mr. Scott."

"Er, about... those things. What made you upset."

Joanna stops short and stares the man down. "What are you implying?"

Scotty draws back slightly, looks at her as if she has grown a second head. "Just who are you, lass?"

The girl puffs up. "I'm the protégé of Captain Kirk."

"Oh, aye, that ye are." Mr. Scott shakes his head. "The Academy won't know what to do with you."

That sounds like a good thing to Joanna. "C'mon," she says, resuming the trek to her destination again. "We're almost there."

"And where are we going?"

"The main computer banks."

"And why?"

The girl rolls her eyes. "Mr. Scott, if I told you everything, then how would I surprise you later on?"

Her companion peers into another shadowy corner. "I really dinnae like surprises."

"Dad doesn't even know I'm gone. And he won't," she adds slyly, "unless you fail to aid me in this new mission."

"How come it has to be me?"

She replies, "You're smart," and bounces farther along the corridor.

Scotty hurries to catch up to her, no doubt keenly aware that if he loses sight of her (on top of all the other things he is likely to suffer for at the hands of the ship's surgeon), he might as well put himself on a shuttle headed to the backwoods of space and hide for the rest of his life.

"Plus, you can make the ship do anything."

The engineer's chest sticks out with pride even as he says in a humbler tone, "Well, not quite anything."

"I like you, Mr. Scott," Joanna tells him sincerely, "and I need your help."

The man flushes. "When you put it like that, lass, how can I say no?"

That's exactly the answer she was counting on.

The room containing the main processing terminals is unattended. After all, only those with the high-level security clearance can get inside to access it. Mr. Scott, as Joanna suspected, has that clearance. He appears quite discomforted as he leads her to the central station that interfaces with the computer banks.

She pushes him into the chair in front of the console and declares their first order of business.

"We'll start with shift schedules."

Mr. Scott looks alarmed. "We cannae change the scheduling program!"

"Oh, but we can," insists the child. "Or at least you can create a subroutine to alter the protocol based on a set of special conditions."

"You're eleven. You're not supposed to know about subroutines."

"Captain Jim says learning to program is important." Joanna pauses, taking a second to adjust her expression.

Scotty looks terribly put-upon. "I swear one day I'll be immune to the Puppy Dog eyes."

"But not today." Her face clears as she taps a finger on the computer console. "Can you do it?"

"Aye." The man faces the screen, active and awaiting his input. He interlaces his fingers and cracks their joints. "Lay it out for me. What illegal, potentially life-endangering—said life being mine, of course—thing are we about to do?"

"First, Mr. Spock, Captain Jim, and my dad need to maintain roughly the same work hours. If they don't, their free time won't sync up."

"Sync up free time. Got it."

"Second, because obviously they won't do it themselves, once their off-duty hours are aligned, the scheduler needs to book that time with an event which all three of them will be required to attend. I'm thinking... a meal to start with. I can send you more ideas later, after additional research."

"Won't an erroneous event trigger suspicious?"

"Not at first." Joanna smiles. "Dad is really terrible at remembering where he needs to be when. He'll think he agreed to dinner and just forgot about it. Mr. Spock will show up to be polite, and Captain Jim—I'll take care of Captain Jim." She plans to whisper a reminder in his ear before she and her dad beam to the Earth space station. She will tell him to take opportunities as they arise, especially where her father and Mr. Spock are concerned. After all, he did promise to look after them, didn't he?

"All-righty, then." Scotty does some fast typing. "What else?"

"How easy is it to program the replicators?"

"Not easy."

"That's not what—"

"—Captain Jim says," finishes the engineer with a roll of his eyes. "A normal person can't live by Jim Kirk standards. You'll only disappoint yourself."

Joanna makes no comment on that. "Their personal replicators should surprise them with gifts. Say, for instance, a glass of bourbon from Captain Jim to my dad. And I hear Mr. Spock likes tea. This should occur infrequently in the beginning. Then, as they continue to meet up for various events, the frequency will gradually increase. The replicator can start to create other organic matter... flowers and the like. We may need to get Requisitions involved somehow for specialty items that cannot be replicated."

Scotty pauses in his typing. "Do you think this would work for Nyota?"

Joanna flashes a grin at him. "You could try it."

"I might."

"Good for you, Mr. Scott. Now," she returns them to the business at hand, "about the inter-ship communications..." She taps her fingers against her mouth. "Do you think Captain Jim can be poetic?"

Her companion snorts. "I heard him once say to Dr. McCoy, 'Roses are red, violets are blue, I don't like hyposprays, but I like you!'"

Joanna giggles.

"But I know a mite of poetry," Scotty offers somewhat shyly. "I might have written a sonnet once."

"Oooh." Joanna's eyes sparkle. "For who?"

The man blushes fiercely and mutters a response.

"Did your mom like it?"

"Said I was better than Shakespeare."

"Rad! Then you can be in charge of the love notes."

For some reason, Scotty winces. "Joanna, are ye certain we should go that far?"

"Who else will?" questions the girl, voice turning serious. "I have to return to Earth tomorrow, and it's not right to leave things unfinished. Even my dad says that." For a moment, sadness overwhelms her. "They're all lonely, Mr. Scott. Plus, my dad is scared and Captain Jim isn't very confident. I don't know about Mr. Spock but I think, with things left up to him, he would take too long to learn how to share his feelings. And he doesn't have a mother to encourage him like we do."

Mr. Scott wipes at the corner of his eyes. "A'right. You've convinced me. I'll finish this program even if it means the end of my career!" He appears to think on that statement a while longer, adding nervously, "It won't, though... right?"

"Not if no one ever finds the routine," she replies firmly. "I thought about that too. We can secure it with my voice-print. No one would think of me as a security measure."

"Not a half-bad idea, lass."

She beams. "I only have good ideas, sir. I think I could be Federation President."

Her friend just replies, "When you are inaugurated, don't forget about me."

"Never," the girl promises. "You're going to be my secretary."

Scotty laughs. "I would be honored, President McCoy. Aye, that I would!"

Sneaking out of the control room is not so simple as getting inside. Joanna and Scotty are busted almost immediately.

And by Mr. Spock, no less.

Joanna has three escape plans come to mind at once, but she wants to see what her apprehender does first.

He ignores her in lieu of focusing on the Chief of Engineer.

"Mr. Scott, would you care to explain why you are in a restricted sector with unauthorized personnel?"

The man in question pales slightly. "Um, well, you see... that is..." His eyes dart back and forth between Joanna and the Vulcan, as if he cannot decide who terrifies him more.

Joanna locks her hands behind her back and bounces on the balls of her feet. Smiling, she says nothing.

Mr. Spock also stays silent, keeping his dark, scrutinizing gaze fixed intently upon his subordinate.

Scotty starts to sweat. "Mr. S-Spock," he fumbles, "take pity on a poor man."

"Pity is not my forte."

The engineer laughs nervously. "That was an excellent joke, sir!"

"Nor do I indulge in humorous remarks."

Scotty's laughter dies out.

Joanna wants to know, "How'd you know we were here?"

"I am notified of any entry into the main computer banks."

Joanna purses her mouth. "Is that all?"

Mr. Spock transfers his gaze to her. "I am also notified when a person fitting your description is in the presence of an unapproved escort."

"Hold on," Scotty says, "I am unapproved?"

"As Miss McCoy has a tendency to utilize you as an accomplice, that is correct, Mr. Scott."

"The Capt'n is worse than I am!"

"Duly noted."

Joanna decides that getting caught isn't such a bad thing. It depends on how convincing one is. She clasps her hands in front of her and says, "I asked Mr. Scott to bring me here, sir."

The Vulcan lifts his eyebrow in a silent question of why?

"Sadly," here the child sniffles a tiny bit, "I must leave tomorrow. This is the only part of the ship I've never seen, Mr. Spock... and I am afraid Dad won't let me come back after—" She turns her guileless, imploring face up to his. "—what happened."

"You could have made the request of me or Captain Kirk."

She scuffs the tip of her shoe against the floor. "I don't want Daddy to be mad at either of you."

"I see."

She hopes that he is satisfied. Technically nothing she has said so far is untrue.

The ensuing silence makes Mr. Scott nervous again. He starts to say, "It'd be a crying shame if the little lass didn't see all of the Enterprise 'fore she goes, Mr. Spock. I was only doing what she—"

Mr. Spock locks his hands behind his back. "You are dismissed, Mr. Scott."

The engineer's mouth clicks shut.

Joanna waves bye-bye to him, certain if he doesn't leave right then he might inadvertently give their mission away, but Mr. Scott makes no move to take his chance at freedom.

The Vulcan says again, "Dismissed."

"Thank you, Mr. Scott," Joanna tells the man, her tone grateful but firm.

The man blows out a loud breath, shakes his head as if he understands neither of them, and trudges away.

"Joanna," Mr. Spock says plainly, "what is the exact nature of your interest with the ship's computer?"

"Nothing bad."

"While I do not doubt that, your subterfuge is a cause for concern."

She looks at him. "Can't you trust me?"

"Will anyone be harmed?"

"I'm hoping for the opposite."

"Very well." He releases his hands. "You should return to your father now."

With a smile, Joanna opens her arms in invitation.

Spock picks her up as a parent does a small child. Joanna tucks her face into the crook of his neck. She hasn't had someone carry her in a long time, and it's nice to know that there is one person still able to do it.

The walk back to her father's quarters is a silent one, and Joanna finds that she is actually sleepy when they arrive. It is no hardship, then, to pretend that she is unaware of what is happening when she hears the whoosh of the cabin door opening to allow them admission. If anything, this pretense will postpone a lecture of why little girls should not sneak out of their bedrooms in the middle of the night.

Mr. Spock hasn't given her a lecture, so why should her father?

On that thought, she relaxes her muscles as though in repose. It's just in time, for her father comes to investigate who has entered his quarters.

"What is—good Lord, Joanna?!" Joanna's father's voice switches from shocked to furious in one second flat. "Mr. Spock, what's going on?"

"Please lower your voice, Dr. McCoy. Your daughter is resting."

"Not in the place I left her!" But he says this as a fierce whisper. "She was in bed!"

"Unlikely. I estimate that she left your supervision approximately one hour and nineteen minutes ago."

"But how—"

Mr. Spock moves forward. "Perhaps that it is a discussion for another time. May I place her in the bedroom?"

"I can't believe—oh, sorry. Here, give her to me. Why in tarnation are you carrying her?"

Joanna feels the Vulcan stall by taking a step back.

"Doctor, let me be frank."

A snort. "When aren't you?"

Spock ignores that remark and subtly shifts the bundle in his arms. "I am fond of this child. At no time has she been a burden to me."

There is a long moment of silence in the room.

Then, "I'm not sure what to say... Thank you?"

"Your gratitude is unnecessary but appreciated." Spock, too, pauses for a brief time. "I would make a request of you."

"All right. But, give her to me, won't you? She must be heavy."

"Negative. She should not be disturbed. Doctor, concerning my request... I wish to communicate with your daughter outside of ship's business, as one would with a family member. Is this permissible?"

"Honestly I'm surprised that you haven't asked sooner. Jo would love that—and I don't mind."

Joanna nearly smiles into Spock's neck. That last part sounded so bashful.

The men may be considering each other in a new light, for nearly half a minute passes before either of them moves or speaks again.

It is Spock who takes action. "I shall transfer her to the bedroom."

A second set of footsteps follows Mr. Spock's. Joanna recognizes the tiny noise of dismay from her father, likely upon discovering that the outline of a person merely consists of pillows. She is positively glad to have them convinced that she is asleep.

Once on the bed, the girl stubbornly clings Spock's neck for a few extra seconds, eyes tightly closed, before she goes limp and allows him tuck a blanket around her. The hand that passes over her hair feels like her father's touch.

It is definitely his voice that whispers in her ear, "We'll talk in the morning, young lady."

Uh-oh.

Joanna stretches lazily like a person rudely disturbed during sleep, flops over onto her stomach, and pulls the covers over her head.

"C'mon, hobgoblin," her father says. "Time for those details. Would you prefer tea or something stronger?"

"Tea would be welcome."

The overhead lights dim.

Joanna breathes a sigh of relief then huffs into her pillow.

This ending couldn't have turned out better.

Ten years later...

Most adults, as they mature, learn to curb their impatience. Joanna McCoy could be a child again as she races across the green lawn of Starfleet Academy, short hair flying. Her father had said in his missive, Arrived safely. See you at dinner. She skipped her favorite class because she has no intention of waiting that long.

Dodging around the crowd of students and taking the stairs to the third level, two at a time, of the Cochrane Hall, she arrives in the waiting area outside the facility's largest conference room just as the door opens and the upper echelon of Starfleet Command filters out in pairs. She raises up on her toes to see over their heads, looking for only those that really interest her. Not one of the passers-by remarks on the fact that a first-year cadet should not be there at all.

Joanna spies a familiar set of shoulders and throws her hand up in the air, waving it madly. "Uncle Spock!" she cries.

Several heads turn. Some sour faces turn sourer. Others, perhaps exuberant themselves, smile tolerantly at the interruption to their conversations.

The composed figure that exits the conference room is certainly her favorite Vulcan. He lifts his hand in the salutation of his people.

She does the same—then throws herself forward to hug him. He obliges her, as he always does, no matter the time or place.

"Surprise!" she says, grinning.

"Some will be surprised," he replies.

"But not you," the woman finishes.

He answers simply, "I am pleased."

"As am I, Spock of Vulcan," she responds formally, releasing him.

Another familiar figure comes into view, and her father behind him.

"There she is!" Jim Kirk calls, opening his arms as he crosses the distance between them.

Joanna greets with him with a punch to the shoulder. "Hey, Uncle Jim," she says to him, eyes twinkling. "I'm still pissed at you."

"Shouldn't you be pissed at your father?"

"No, Daddy gets a pass."

"Ouch, I'm hurt." Jim turns to the side slightly. "Bones, I told you she would hold a grudge."

Joanna ignores him and moves past him to her father. "Dad, seriously... What was the rush? If you'd called, I could have packed and been on the next shuttle space-side in a few hours."

"It wasn't a planned thing, Jo."

"Obviously!"

They size each other up before sharing an identical smile.

Leonard says, "C'mere," and Joanna gladly accepts his hug.

She tweaks his nose as he used to tweak hers years ago and teases, "You've got a new patch of gray right here..."

Her father bats her hand away from his temple. "Don't remind me. You're responsible for most of that."

"I thought Uncle Jim was."

"Him too."

Her eyes continue to twinkle. "And Uncle Spock?"

"No. The Vulcan's a saint by comparison."

Spock demurs, "Leonard, you are too kind."

Jim bridges the distance between everyone by placing one hand on Leonard's shoulder and the other hand on Spock's. "Save it for the honeymoon, guys."

Joanna laughs when her father's face turns red. She steals his right hand and says, "I want Granny McCoy's ring now."

Obligingly he twists the ring off his smallest finger, but at the last moment he withholds it, telling her, "There's one condition."

Joanna is confident that she can handle any challenge her father wants to make. "Shoot."

He jerks his thumb at the other members of their group. "For god's sake, don't marry anybody like Spock or Jim."

Jim leans toward Leonard with a smile on his face. "Bones, hey, you know you love me."

Leonard concludes dryly, "Because I couldn't handle more than what I currently have."

She plucks the ring from her father and bounces away. "I've already got some candidates."

Whatever answer her father thought she would give him, apparently it isn't that.

He starts after her. "Wait, Jo, what's that mean?"

"How do ya'll feel about a meet-the-parents dinner—or three?" she calls over her shoulder, heading for the stairs.

"You're barely in your twenties!" her father cries.

"Somebody wants to meet the famous Captain Kirk?" Jim questions, cracking his knuckles. "Excellent. Spock, what's our scare tactic?"

"We lack sufficient data to be efficient but, in preparing for this scenario some time ago, I believe I developed a strategy which would work quite well to exploit the weaknesses of most suitors."

"I like the way you think, Spock."

"What are you two doing?" Joanna hears her father say from the next level up. "Less planning, more action! We have to catch my little girl before she does something crazy!"

"JoJo!" Jim hollers down the stairs for the entire Academy to hear. "Have a heart, wait up for the old folks!"

Since it is in fact the famous Captain Kirk who is asking, Joanna figures she can accommodate the request. As the three men come down the stairs together (Kirk flanked by Spock and McCoy) she sees many things: merriment in the face of her Uncle Jim, contentment in the eyes of her Uncle Spock, and turmoil, clear as day, roiling through her father.

None of what she sees gives her pause to doubt that they love her—or that they have finally, truly come to appreciate what they have with each other. For that, she can forgive them for having the wedding without her.

Or bonding ceremony. Or whatever weird thing they called it.

Besides, Grandpa Sarek is lying in wait back at the apartment along with a few dozen family members and friends. If her father and two new stepfathers think they are getting out of a celebration, they are going to be extremely surprised.

Joanna grins to herself. Her family is complete at last.

Okay, maybe she can wait a day or two before telling them the meet-the-parents thing is real.

The End

Thank you to everyone for following along and for your patience while I tried my best to wrap this story up. I enjoyed writing it quite a lot - Joanna was fun and fantastic as a meddler! - and I hope you have enjoyed reading it just as much. :)

Farewell until Story brings us together again, my friends!