"Come on, you can do it!" The encouragement was just as much genuine as it was a bit of a joke, but she couldn't help but feel frustrated at her utter failure to perform such a simple task.

"Perhaps adjusting your angle of release?" Icheb offered helpfully. Standing knee deep in the water next to her, a fishing hat - of all things - on his head, he looked just as out of place here as she felt at the moment. Still, looking at him made her smile.

And that made his eyes flicker with confusion for just an instant, which only made her smile grow.

John made his way over to her and handed her his fishing rod. "Here, mine's better. Luckier."

Icheb looked skeptically at the rod and she could see the gears in his mind turning. "Luck does not exist. This rod is composed of similar materials as Maren's and is the same design, with only a 3.2 percent variance in construction."

Maren looked at the tangled mess that was her fishing rod. "I'll take that 3.2 percent variance." She traded with JQ and motioned for the two of them to give her space. "I'm going to catch one."

JQ stifled a laugh as he trudged his way back towards his spot.

Icheb lingered by her for a moment and gave her arm a gentle squeeze, one she knew was for support.

Maren O'Connor was not a natural fisherman, but she was damned well going to catch at least one fish. She cast her rod out farther into the river and watched as the bob landed on the water, the red and white thing floating harmlessly before them. She reeled it in just a little, making sure not to have too much slack on the line, and waited.

She glanced over to her right at Icheb, who wasn't so much fishing as using it as an excuse to study the river. It wasn't just an academic exercise, she knew; he enjoyed nature and the order of things.

"I got one!" JQ yelled excitedly, like he was a kid on a Christmas. Maren and Icheb both turned to look at him as he reeled one in, fighting against it; Maren's old pole was bending at the weight on the other end of the line.

"Do you require assistance?" Icheb asked loudly.

JQ, eyes focused on the water, shook his head. "No, I got it." Despite his words, he was losing his footing and slipping deeper into the river; he was now past his knees, about to be waist-deep.

She and Icheb turned towards one another and exchanged concerned glances. "Are you sure?" Icheb asked once more. He took a few steps towards JQ.

JQ continued to slip further into the water, now waist-deep and rising as he pulled with all his might. Whatever fish on the end of that must have been huge ... either that, or his line got snagged on something.

Face flush with effort, JQ looked back at both of them. "I'm fine, really, I got -" The rest of his sentence was cut off as the pole was pulled even harder and he tumbled into the water, his pole flying out of his hands.

Maren covered her mouth with her hands, partly in surprise and partly to keep from laughing, as JQ pulled himself out of the river, looking about as happy as a Klingon who had just taken a bath.

Icheb made his way over to the pole as JQ wiped his face, which was now flush with embarrassment. His eyes lingered on her for just a second before he began laughing.

And when he started, she started, uncovering her mouth and letting her laughter out.

Icheb gave them both a curious look, but he unleashed a small smile.

****

"Really, go on, I'll be fine." John Quigley had never been bested by a fish before, but this day he had been. "I need to dry off anyway, so I'll stay back."

Maren and Icheb stood before him, both clearly wanting to stay, but both also wanted a moment; John could sense it, he could see it. The two's body language screamed "find a quiet place" and who was he to deny them that?

"We can help you set up a fire to cook." Maren smirked. "Or dry off your clothes."

John could feel his face warm. If embarrassment were an energy source, I'd be fucking overabundant in it. "My clothes, my problem. Besides, do either of you know how to start a campfire without a phaser? Or a kit?"

The two nodded, completely independent of one another but still in-sync. "Basic survival training is a required course," Icheb reminded him.

John sighed. "No Academy talk, remember?" He grabbed a few logs and set them down in the fire pit. "This is our summer-kickoff and we keep the Academy out of it." It was an arbitrary, stupid rule, but required for them. The last month or two, the three had been neck-deep in preparations for the end of their year at the Academy; said preparations were filled with studying (which John suspected he did the most of) and tests (which he equally suspected he did the worst on).

Still, their lives had become too mired in the Academy of late. This was the summer. This was where fun was supposed to start; besides, this might be the only time the three got to see one another during the break. Maren and Icheb both had plans for the summer.

At this point, John really didn't ... and he wasn't looking forward to months without the Academy. Home was the last place he wanted to go. "Guys, go; Yellowstone is a beautiful place and you should go enjoy it." He eyed Icheb especially. "Alone," he added with a wink.

Maren rolled her eyes just a little while Icheb gave a singular nod. "Perhaps we should leave John to set-up for dinner. We can return in one hour."

John clapped his hands once and pointed to the west. "There's a nice cliff overview that way, about a twenty minute walk. Real pretty." And private, he added silently. The last thing he needed was to be reminded what couples did when they were alone; he knew very well what that was.

"Okay, an hour," Maren conceded. She took Icheb's hand, grasping it gently. "But don't you dare start making smores without us."

John made the Vulcan salute. "Vulcan scout's honor."

Maren smiled. "All right."

The two set off, hand in hand, and John watched them leave, a pang of envy making itself known before it was buried. He turned to the fire pit and made a face. "Now, how do you make a fire again?"

****

Night had arrived. "Now is it ‘smore time'?" Icheb asked.

Sitting beside him, her face bathed in the warmth of the orange glow of the fire, Maren smiled. "Yes." She turned to John. "You remembered everything, right?"

He put on a faux look of offense. "You question my preparedness with smores? I take smores very seriously." From his duffel back, he fished out two boxes of graham crackers, two bags of marshmallows, and two packs of chocolate candy bars.

It took less than a second for Icheb to calculate how much sugar and calories were in it all, and he even account for the change the heat of the fire would bring. It was not his first time having smores - Tom Paris had introduced him to the unique food on Voyager - but it was the first time he was having them while camping out.

This experience, so far, had been interesting, but he felt he was bringing very little to it. John and Maren both had significantly more experience in outdoor activities than himself and the two, on the trip over, had exchanged a number of tales from their past about it.

Icheb had no such tales.

Maren passed him the ingredients for the smores, and a marshmallow roaster. "You okay?" she asked in a whisper.

He felt himself smile. Despite their relatively short time together, she had an intuition about him that was unmatched. "I am fine," he assured her.

"So, what's your preferred smore method?" John asked as he fixed the marshmallow to his roaster.

"I like having one side dark, the other light." Maren fixed her marshmallow upon her roaster and held it out over the fire. "I like it a little burned."

Icheb did as the others and put his marshmallow out over the fire, rotating his evenly. "An even distribution of heat provides optimum results."

John chuckled. "Ah, a perfectionist. Couldn't have guessed that." He put his deeper into the fire. "I like mine totally roasted; got to wait till it catches, then you take it out, put it out, and - while it's still smoking - stick it right into the graham cracker."

Icheb met John's eyes, a smirk on his lips. "Ah, you like yours hot when it enters your mouth. Unexpected."

Maren gave him a surprised, but amused, look. John hung his head, laughing. "Yes, I like mine hot." He looked up, taking his flaming marshmallow out of the fire. He blew it out, the smoke wafting in the air, and put it upon his graham cracker. In a moment he had a smore.

Icheb and Maren did the same, their smores soon ready.

John held his out. "To great friends."

Maren and Icheb held theirs out. "To great friends," they repeated. The three took a bite of their smores and all - even Icheb - moaned with satisfaction.

The End