To celebrate a whole two years since my ‘divorce’ I decided to get dolled up and go out.

You must understand that I don’t normally do that but for once, I decided that I’d go out in a bit of ‘glam’.

My desire to wear my ex wife’s clothes was what led up to the divorce despite Paula knowing about Suzi before we got married. In the end, the fact that I often looked better in her clothes was sometimes just too much for her.

A Star Trek Next Generation based fan fiction novel

Reginald Barclay discovers that space is not the final frontier

Where No Man has Gone Before

Chapter 6: Deanna's Return Home

When we finally broke from the kiss, it was all I could do to stay on my feet. The look in Geordi's eyes, says he's
probably feeling the same thing as I am. Without saying a word, we left the briefing room and headed for engineering
holding hands. Neither of us cares if someone saw us.

Sparrow sat at a table in the cafeteria reading the girl’s diary. She was quite the information gatherer. If the diary was anything to be believed, Kiranim grew up in another world. Homeless but still finding a purpose in life. This thing call Free Running. Which, up till now, kept her safe and out of trouble. This Jeril seemed to have a positive effect on her. The more she read, the more engrossed in the girl she became. Until the point she didn’t notice Hawk behind her.
“You’re really into that diary.” Hawk announced his presence, causing sparrow to jump. “Sorry.”

CHAPTER 52
Life was almost back to normal then, and I was up past my ears in sodding budget allocations. I had some hopes, though, as my seniority slowly grew, and kept my eyes on the job adverts.

I took out my blade it was spawned from an old shaving razor I broke apart. That was the trickiest thing harvesting the blades without cutting up your fingers. As I sat in the dirty mens room alone I looked around and held my blade close. Nothing too fantastic was written or drawn on the walls just the usual tags and phone numbers. Part of me hesitated as I gently put the blade against my skin and looked at it.

Dana ponders Danielle's idea, while revisiting an episode from her past that may, or may not, be real.

Working on a small team in a large office with all women meant I got an insight into women’s lives that many men miss out on. Sometimes I feel like I’m missing the banter, but to be honest the without the constant competition when it’s all men, which let's face it can be tiring, so it was refreshing to work in a nurturing environment.

Although the talk about split ends does get annoying sometimes. I never ever got them in my hair and it was as long as some of the girls, I just didn’t put so much ‘product’ on it so it didn’t suffer as much.

The doctor checked Jimmy during his morning rounds. “Doc, I’d like to thank you for all you’ve done for me. Please tell the staff thanks for me too,” the brave boy spoke in a breathy gasping voice. Then he turned and smiled at his ever attentive mother. “Mom, I’ve fought this cancer but I know I can’t beat it. This will be my last morning and I want to die on my own terms. I don’t want to be hooked up to machines. All that will do is make my pain and yours continue. Doc, I’d like you to witness mom signing DNR paperwork for me, now, before it’s too late. Also Mom, I want to donate my body to the medical university where student doctors can see what the cancer has done to my body. It might help in finding a cure for others. Mom, those are my last wishes, please sign the donation paperwork.”

In tears Sally at first refused but seeing that Jimmy was so serious, she sadly acquiesced, signing the paperwork so that when his heart stopped, his epic war would be over and no attempts to revive him would be made and his body given for research. The grieving mother had no choice but to agree to her dying son’s adamant demands.

“Thanks, mom,” he smiled wanly. Exhausted by the exertion, Jimmy closed his eyes for a nap. Sally knew she had to stay strong for her dying son and stifled her anguish to sit by his bed holding his hand.

“Crying in a spacesuit is… ill advised…”

“Fuck you.”

I suppose that was the start of a eulogy, incongruous as it was.

He was right though. At least we weren’t in microgravity so the tears traced a sluggish path down my cheeks and into the collar of my coolsuit instead of becoming little floating globules of nastiness.

The sun burned down upon us, casting every pebble and microcrater into sharp relief as the regolith crunched under our feet. The sky was the black of space, even the stars washed out by the fierce furnace which lit our way.

It was just another Monday at the office, and I’d popped out for a cigarette. Sarah was there, she works on a different floor to me, but we’re smoking buddies, so I went over to chat. Sarah is drop dead gorgeous, and she told me about the new cosplay she was making. Like me she’s a geek, although I’ve only ever worn fancy dress for parties.

Her and Jane, her housemate, had been making Sucker Punch costumes for the London Comic Con. I couldn’t get tickets to go with them, although without a costume I may have looked out of place walking around with them.

I'm at peace when I'm asleep
No fear, no pain
No troubled soul crying inside
    when I'm asleep

I don't cry when I'm asleep
No tears, no sorrow
No mirrors reflecting the hurt
    when I'm asleep

I dream of home when I'm asleep
A place of peace
    when I'm asleep