"Just The Way You Look Tonight"

By Rob Morris

Premise: DS9 has said 'Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen'. But is all business done with? Ask the Prophet wearing the Collar and The Crucifix.......

Gamma Quadrant

Odo arose from The Great Link. Floating above it was a Prophet he knew by name. Much more than even Sarah Sisko, Francis Mulcahy had retained his human personality.

"Father Mulcahy. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The Priest smiled.

"As foretold, he who was Cain to his people, and was then called Morningstar, has now been anointed, and will dwell among his people -- as Immanuel--The Messiah."

"No, Father. Rather, it was my privilege to give life and peace back to my people."

Mulcahy laughed lightly.

"Oh, Odo! Such Jocularity! You haven't given them life and peace."

Odo was confused.

"Then, Francis--what have I done?"

"You've given them wine for their thirst, and bread and fishes for their hunger. But the knowledge you've brought them of Solids will create a new hunger - curiosity. Some will leave. Some will fear, and wish to rearm. Then does an anointed one's work truly begin. They will need your message to avoid their past sins, Odo."

The former Constable shrugged.

"But I have no message. I've never been any good at speeches."

Mulcahy beamed.

"But someone who is your heart is very good at them. You and she are not done."

The Priest disappeared.

"Thank You, Francis. But that last part-- I think I knew already. Til then, Nerys."

With a shudder, the returning Odo realized that he was living in the good old days. And that the best--was yet to come.

Earth---The Former State Of Ohio

Keiko looked at the brownstone, one of the few surviving remnants of the 20th Century in what was the City Of Toledo.

"Oh, Miles! Its beautiful. So very rustic. Is it ours outright?"

O'Brien nodded.

"Yes---provided the older couple who lives here likes us. They contacted me, you understand."

Molly was smiling from ear-to-ear.

"She's here. They both are!!"

Hurriedly, the little girl knocked at the door. Miles grew nervous.

"Molly, honey, don't do that. These are older folk, and they could be sleeping."

Keiko walked to the door to collect her, and gasped when she looked in. Out walked a man who looked about 80 years old. He had a Middle-Eastern bearing, and a large nose. He was over 400. He was -----

"Max Klinger?"

Max smiled at his beautiful descendant.

"Hiya, Keiko. The missus and me aren't Immortal, like the Pierces. But we do okay. How long has it been by you guys' timeframe?"

Miles was more than glad to see the old draft-dodger.

"A little less than two years, Max. Wait--did you say that Soon-Lee is..."

Miles yelped, as a streak blurred by and pinched his behind. It stopped, and revealed the face of a woman Miles knew all too well and loved just as well.

"Hello, Miles. My darling Keiko and Molly, I am so glad to see you both. Sorry about that Miles, but your behind has always been one that demanded pinching."

Miles took in her elderly features, knowing that this would one day be the face of his Keiko. He was not at all displeased. He walked up and kissed her on the cheek.

"My God, Soon-Lee. Its so damn good to see you both. Things have changed so much on Deep Space Nine. Not just with us leaving, either. If you'll have us, it'll be good to stay with family."

To Miles' surprise, Max lifted a clothes-case that normally required anti-gravs with one hand. The ancient, sinister experiments that had greatly changed the Klingers and ultra-radically changed The Pierces were still having effects, centuries on.

"Miles, we'll have you, we'll have you. Oh, Molly?"

"Yes, Granpa Max?"

"Would a certain little lady like her own personally autographed Blake Pierce doll?"

"Would I Ever!!!!"

Keiko embraced her very-much-alive distant ancestor.

"Now remember, Soon-Lee--Miles is my husband."

"Keiko---we are family. We share--everything."

Keiko knew Soon-Lee was joking, but promised to keep an eye on her, anyway.

As the hyper-extended family moved in together, Max and Soon-Lee tried to reason out a way to tell their descendants that Molly was likely to develop Piercian abilities. In months to come, Packo's Hungarian Hot Dogs would be forced to open a Starfleet Academy Auxiliary, as Miles brought converts from all over the Alpha Quadrant to the sausage emporium.

Deep Space Nine

Jake lay in his quarters, just thinking. Kassidy's decision to stay with her family for a few years had Jake feeling lonely. She had invited him along, but he felt out of place, even with the new sibling due. The Yates were nice people, but they were not his family.

He'd wanted to cover the rebuilding of Cardassia Prime, but provisional government head Garak was a little nuts from the slaughter. Jake Sisko knew what the 'nuts' Garak could do rather well. On Earth, his Granpa was in denial about his Dad's current status.

"Then find another Granpa."

Jake found himself in a white void, and he knew what this meant. In the distance, he saw his father, whom he ran to embrace. Ben Sisko was also delighted to see his boy.

"Dad! Are You Coming Back?"

"Eventually, Jake. But how would you like to go on a twelve-year fact-finding mission? Be a true historical reporter?"

"Sure. But, Dad....."

Sisko gestured.

"Then its settled. Jake, I love you."


Before he could protest, Jake found himself almost being run over by an older man pushing a hand-powered lawn mower.

"Blast it all to Purple Hades, why don'tcha watch where it is you're goin....Jake!!!??"

Jake knew he was in River Bend, Missouri, and he knew that the dear man in front of him was his ancestor, Sherman T. Potter. He looked not too much older than when Jake had last seen him. His eyes were as wide as his smile.

"Hell's Bells, Bo---er, Son! The Padre didn't let on that he was bringin the Siskos to call. Where's that overtall father of yours?"

Jake would have to be careful about just how much he explained, for fear of timeline contamination.

"Its a long story, Granpa Sherm. But I'm here for the next twelve years. So what year is this?"

Understanding the odd question all too well, Potter told his "grandson" what he wanted to know.

"Its September of Nineteen-Hundred and Sixty-Two. Anything important goin' on, in those dusty history books of yours?"

Jake thought. In one month, the Cuban Missle Crisis would threaten the world, and Hawkeye Pierce's father would be killed by the shadowy Cigarette Man. One month before his ETD, Nixon would resign from The US Presidency. Certainly an eventful twelve years to visit in.

"Nah. Same old, same old. Just packaged differently. Say, my skin color isn't going to cause you any trouble, is it?"

Jokingly, Sherman removed his glasses, and wiped them with his handkerchief. He looked Jake over.

"Why? You plannin' on going plaid?"

"Laugh it up, Granpa. Oh, well. Listen, I'm aching to see Grandma Mildred..."

"Oh, and she'll be tickled to see you!"

"Yes, sir. But--about those breakfasts---I kind of have to violate the timeline, Granpa. There's this stuff called serum cholesterol-------"

So it was that after a last breakfast of hash browns, pancakes, eggs and muffins cooked in bacon grease, the Potter household became very fond of good ol' hot Oatmeal--except on the first Sunday of the month, when Jake found that pure cholesterol smells so very damned good upon waking up before Church. Despite Sherman's dismissal of the subject, race came up more than anyone cared for. But the reporter in Jake was having the time of his life. This was living history, after all.

He was a great comfort to Sherman when Mildred passed away in 1973, while preparing a welcome-home party for the Pierces, just returned from service in Vietnam. Jake returned a wiser man, but he felt much like he had lost another father to the corridors of time. 'The Boys From Golgotha', based on Potter's World War One recollections, was a twelve-time best-read of the early Twenty-Fifth Century. Sherman T. Potter lived on, as one thought sure he might.

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