SUMMARY: Bridger goes to England and meets Kristin's family.

CODES: SQ, B/W

RATING: PG13

DISCLAIMER: Amblin owns the characters, the rest is mine.

NOTES: Takes place some time during the second season, and I sort of take liberties with Kristin's background, so if you're a purist, tough luck, and if you're English, don't bite my head off for anything relating to Westphalen's background, I made it all up and I do not claim to know much of anything about English customs/history/geography etc. There is very little real action in this half of the story, so if you prefer excitement, you might consider skipping to part two (when I eventually finish it).

"Family Ties"
by Liz VanZandt

"...And we finally just got out of there last night," Nathan Bridger finished, lifting his feet up and resting them on his desk by the vid-link. This was the first chance he'd had in the past two weeks to relax like this.

"Sounds like a typical week for the seaQuest," Kristin Westphalen said with a laugh on the screen.

"Yeah, but for some reason it doesn't feel the same as last tour," he said almost wistfully. Every so often, at the strangest moments, he would be reminded of the previous tour and grow melancholy over the memories. "Anyway," he continued on, pushing his brooding thoughts into the back of his mind again, "how was your week?"

"Not quite as interesting as yours, I'm afraid," she laughingly replied.

"Nothing ever is," he agreed.

"Isn't that the truth. I am beginning to wonder why I ever agreed to teach this freshman Chemistry class, though."

Nathan grinned, remembering her comments less than a month earlier when the Florida State administration had asked her to teach a revamped freshman level chemistry class. Oh, Nathan, it will be so much fun. I can torture all those young kids while pushing all the actual work off onto the grad students. And it will give me the perfect opportunity to keep abreast of advances in the field without having to actually do any real work in it. "Oh, come on, it can't be that bad," he retorted doubtfully, pulling himself back to the present.

Kristin shrugged. "It only gets really bad when there's an exam. We get to spend twelve hours straight doing nothing but correcting the same problem on six hundred tests."

"What happened to passing off all the work to the grad students?" he teased.

She rolled her eyes. "That is with all the grad students working as well."

"Well I for one don't envy you, I could never stand paperwork." Both laughed. Nathan was notorious within the UEO for his steadfast avoidance of paperwork, even if much of it was now done on computers and paper was almost passé. "But seriously, the grades are up from last year, right?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"Than you're doing your job. The kids are learning the material and retaining it at least long enough for the test." He leaned forward in his chair, smiling mischievously, "Besides, how can they not like having you for a teacher. I know I would. In fact, if you had been teaching ..." he blanched as he realized how long it had been since he'd graduated from the Academy, "forty years ago I'm sure I would have done much better in my Chemistry class."

"Sorry, Nathan, dating the professor won't get you out of work," she laughed, then her face grew serious again. "Why is it you can always cheer me up, even half a world away?" She got a wistful look, reaching over to place her face on the screen as if by doing so she could reach out and touch him. "I really miss you, Nathan. It just isn't the same when you're not here."

"I miss you too," he agreed, placing his palm over the image of hers on the screen. "And it's only another six months. It'll be over before you know it."

"Only --" she paused, looking at something offscreen, "hold on a minute, Nathan, I've got another call coming in." Her face disappeared from the screen, leaving the standard UEO symbol in its place. A few minutes later she reappeared, looking pale and scared. "I ... I have to go, Nathan. Something's come up." With that, the screen went blank and Nathan was left to his thoughts, a curious frown on his face.

* * *

The rest of the morning was spent trying to reach Kristin, but there was no answer at either her house or office. Finally Nathan got through to a secretary in the Biochemistry department at the University. It had been like pulling teeth, but he had eventually gotten the girl to admit that Kristin had been unexpectedly called away on family business. Nathan thanked her and settled back at his desk, trying to decide on his next course of action.

It wasn't like Kristin to just pick up and leave like that, and especially not to tell anyone where she was going, least of all Nathan. It scared him, because it most likely meant something was wrong, and most likely that something was serious. Even though they had only been officially dating for a little over two years, Nathan had thought they were close enough that Kristin felt she could tell him anything. Apparently he was wrong.

Finally, with his mind made up, he reached over and pressed a button on the comlink next to him. "Yeah," came the disembodied voice of Lucas Wolenczak.

"Lucas, I need you to find me some background on someone," Nathan said slowly, yet deliberately.

"Who?"

"Doctor Kristin Westphalen."

Nathan could imagine the shocked look on the boy's face. He certainly couldn't blame the boy. Lucas was one of only a handful of people who knew the extent of Nathan's relationship with Kristin, and probably assumed that Nathan knew most everything about his lover. And up until a few hours ago, Nathan would have agreed with that assessment. "Why? What do you need to know?"

"I don't know exactly, just get the information. I'll be in my quarters."

"OK," Lucas said, doubt evident in his voice.

* * *

Commander Jonathan Ford looked up from his the navigation table as Bridger entered the bridge. They were presently stationed in the southern Caribbean, studying the local currents and trying to map them, hoping to explain the recent decrease in fishing in the area. "Captain," Ford nodded.

"Status, Commander?"

"Holding steady at eight knots, bearing one five five, twenty-five miles from the outskirts of the Lesser Antilles. Everything's been calm for the past twenty-four hours."

"Good," Bridger nodded, glancing around the spacious bridge. "Do you think you can keep it that way for a few more days?"

"I certainly intend to try." Ford frowned slightly, wondering where Bridger was going with this conversation. "May I inquire as to why?" he asked after a short pause.

"I'm thinking of taking some of my overdue vacation time and I don't feel like cutting it short because of a disaster," the older man replied, almost a bit too quickly, Ford thought.

But the young man just nodded. "Will do, sir. I can have a launch ready to take you to the surface within the hour."

"Thank you, Commander," Bridger nodded once, clasping his hands together behind his back. "I'll take that offer in the light it was intended." Smiling good-naturedly, he retreated toward the clam doors at the back of the bridge.

As he disappeared down the corridor, Ford turned around to see James Brody standing there. "What was that all about?" Brody asked.

"Apparently the Captain is taking some time off," Ford replied, a bit uncertainly. He wasn't used to such spontaneity from Bridger and it had him slightly worried.

"The Captain doesn't take vacations, let alone all of a sudden like this," Brody said, shaking his head. "What do you suppose is the matter?"

"I don't know, but I'll bet Lucas does," Ford said, making a mental note to search out the teen once he got off duty later.

* * *

Two days later, Bridger stood outside a large house in rural England with his hand on the knocker. It was a stately old mansion with at least three floors that Bridger could make out from the exterior, and large white columns running along the front porch. Even the front door was immense, at least a foot and a half taller than Bridger himself. Set far back on a large estate amid what could easily pass for a forest, it was painfully obvious that whoever lived here had money, and lots of it.

He closed his eyes briefly and lifted the knocker, letting it fall heavily back on the door. A long moment passed before the immense wooden door opened to reveal a woman in her mid to late sixties, with gray hair pulled back into a tight bun and a white apron tied around her waist. "Can I help you?" she asked politely in a British accent, using the apron to wipe something off her hands.

"I'm looking for Kristin Westphalen," Bridger said nervously. "I was told I could find her here."

The woman opened the door for him to enter. "One moment, I'll see if the Madam is in. Whom shall I say is calling, sir?"

He thought for a moment before finally deciding on simply replying, "A friend."

"Yes, sir," she smiled faintly. "If you could please just wait right here while I check on the Madam."

Bridger nodded and the woman disappeared up the staircase in front of him. He was left standing alone in a large hallway with a beautiful chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a black and white checked marble floor under his feet. To the right was what appeared to be a sitting room or parlor, decorated with heavy wood paneling and dark, rich colors; to the left was a closed door, but before he could wonder about the room behind it, voices were heard at the top of the stairs.

" ... A friend?"

"That's all he said, ma'am. A friend."

The old woman came into view, followed by a slightly younger woman with shoulder length auburn hair. She was wearing a long plaid skirt and white blouse with the top few buttons opened. "Nathan!" Kristin Westphalen exclaimed seeing the visitor. She quickened her pace descending the stairs, her riding boots clicking on the marble floor as she crossed the hallway to him. He recognized the questions in her eyes as she gently wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be on the seaQuest right now?"

Before Nathan could answer, Kristin turned back to the other woman. "Rose, would you go get us some tea, and have Geoffrey take Nathan's things up to the guest room next to mine."

"Yes, ma'am," Rose nodded with a small smile and disappeared down the long hallway.

"Come in," Kristin said claiming Nathan's hand in her own and leading him into the sitting room to the right. "Now, why have you suddenly appeared at my front door without so much as a call to let me know you were coming? And don't tell me you just happened to be in the area because I know for a fact the seaQuest is supposed to be in the Caribbean right now."

Nathan grinned sheepishly, gently positioning himself on the sofa running the length of the room. "You're right. I decided to take a few days off and make sure you're all right."

"Me?" Kristin asked as Rose appeared with a silver tray topped with a matching tea service.

Setting it down on the nearby table, the older woman raised one eyebrow in question. "Will there be anything else, ma'am?"

"No, thank you, Rose," Kristin said, returning the other woman's smile. Rose nodded and quietly left the room. When she was gone, Kristin reached over and poured some of the brown liquid into two of the teacups. "Milk or honey?" she asked, looking up at her companion.

He shook his head, taking one cup from her hand as she handed it to him. "I was worried about you after our conversation the other day," he continued, taking a sip of the warm tea.

Kristin looked puzzled for a moment, mirroring his actions, before his words seemed to register. Swallowing her sip, her lips formed a silent 'oh.'

"Yeah," Nathan said quietly, noting the faint trace of fear and pain that suddenly appeared in her eyes. "You looked scared after taking the other call and I wanted to make sure that you're OK."

Silently, she gently laid her teacup back down on the table. Rising from her seat, she crossed the room to stare out the window at the driveway, arms wrapped protectively around her midsection. Recognizing the tears welling up in her eyes, Nathan returned his cup to the table as well, getting up and crossing the room. Coming to a stop just behind her, he hesitated briefly before gently resting his hands on her shoulders. Silently, she leaned back against him and sighed, reaching up with one hand to wipe a tear from her cheek.

"The call was from Rose," she explained quietly, pausing briefly to sniffle. "The doctors discovered a tumor on my father's brain during a routine checkup. It's benign at the moment, but they're afraid it might have spread. I felt I should be here just in case ..." She turned around and, tears now falling freely, buried her face into Nathan's chest.

He just held her, whispering quietly into her ear and giving her the comfort she so desperately needed at the moment. "I'm sorry," she apologized, pulling away minutes later, wiping her eyes. "It's just that he's all I have left besides the girls. Mother died while I was in college and James," she gave a short, derisive laugh, "well, Zellar took him from me. And now Father ..."

"And now Father what?" a man said from behind them. Nathan turned to see a wiry man in his nineties standing in the doorway. He was on the short side and thin, with a shock of white hair on top of his head. Nathan stood there, letting wizened eyes sweep over him appraisingly.

"Dad, you shouldn't be out of bed," Kristin admonished, leaving Nathan's protective embrace to help her father into the nearest chair. Nathan fought to hide an amused smile at her mothering.

"Nonsense," the old man waved off her help. "I feel fine. And in case you hadn't noticed, I'm not an invalid yet, Kris."

"You won't stay fine if you don't stay in bed like I told you," Kristin shook her finger at him. "Please, would you listen to me just for once, Dad," she said, concern etched on her face as she reached over to cup his cheek.

He smiled wistfully. "You're just like your mother, God rest her soul, always concerned with the other guy. I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself, I have been for almost thirty years now."

Kristin opened her mouth to retort, but thought better of it and quickly closed it.

"Now," the old man said, settling back in his seat, eyes twinkling, "who is our visitor, or did you plan to keep his identity a secret?"

"Oh," Kristin's eyes lit up, remembering Nathan. "Dad, this is Nathan Bridger, captain of the seaQuest. Nathan, this is my father, Lionel Westphalen."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Nathan said stepping forward, one hand held out to the other man.

Lionel grasped the proffered hand, giving it a hearty shake that belied the man's otherwise frail appearance. "The seaQuest, eh," one eyebrow rose as he glanced over at his daughter. "Wasn't that the boat you were on a few years ago, Kris?"

"Mmmhmm," Kristin nodded. "That's where Nathan and I met."

"Interesting," Lionel said quietly. "Kris, go see how dinner is coming, and have Marie set another place for your friend."

"Dad--"

"Kris, I said go." Neither his eyes or his tone of voice brooked any argument. Nathan could tell from both the old man's actions and his daughter's response that the patriarch of the Westphalen family ruled the household with a loving, yet firm hand.

Kristin's gaze hovered back and forth between the two men, receiving a stern look from her father and a shrug from Nathan. "Fine," she said finally. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." With one last final glance at the two men, she turned and left the room.

Nathan resumed his previous seat on the sofa, picking up his discarded cup as the old man sized him up. God, I'm as nervous as a schoolboy, he chided himself, trying to keep from grimacing at the cold liquid that greeted him. He fought the urge to squirm as the minutes dragged on interminably, the old man's eyes never wavering from him.

"Are you sleeping with her?" Lionel finally said, breaking the silence.

"Come again," Nathan blinked, taken aback by the abrupt question that seemingly came out of somewhere in left field.

"You heard me," the old man repeated. "Are you sleeping with Kristin?"

Nathan paused for a moment wondering whether to tell the old man the truth. He returned his cup to the table, listening as it quietly rattled in the saucer. "And if I am?" he replied, looking up at the other man through the top of his eyes, face still downturned slightly. "I'd say it was none of your business, but somehow I think you might argue with me about that."

Lionel studied the younger man, lips pursed. "You're smart," he concluded finally. "Most people would either say what they think I want to hear or just plain lie."

"Well, from what I gather, you happened to have a less than celibate life before meeting your wife, so asking that is like the pot calling the kettle black," Nathan raised his head, meeting the other man's gaze directly, refusing to lose the impromptu power struggle the conversation had become.

"You've done your homework," Lionel looked away, allowing Nathan to win this round, but certainly not conceding the match just yet.

"I find it beneficial to know a little bit about the people I deal with."

"You'd have made one helluva businessman," Lionel predicted, bringing one hand up to rub his chin thoughtfully.

"Let's just say it comes from over thirty years in the navy," Nathan replied noncommittally.

* * *

"Why must he always do this to me?" Kristin blurted absently, pacing in the kitchen.

"Why must who do what to you?" Cynthia Beaumont asked, picking up an apple from the basket of fruit laying on the counter.

Kristin scowled at her daughter. "You shouldn't be eating that, dinner is in less than an hour."

Cynthia rolled her eyes, taking another bite just to spite her mother. "You're avoiding my question, Mom."

"The Earl is in the sitting room with Madam's gentleman friend," Marie Douglas, the household cook, said, tasting the stew bubbling in a large pot on the stove.

Cynthia screwed her face up in confusion. "Wh-what gentleman friend? Mom?" she looked imploringly over at her mother, who had quit pacing and was now sitting at the butcher block table in the middle of the kitchen.

"Nathan Bridger," Kristin finally muttered darkly.

"Bridger ... Bridger ... Bridger --" Cynthia gasped as she realized where she'd heard the name before. Her mouth dropped open in shock as she stared at her mother. "Not Captain Bridger? I thought you and he were finished months ago."

"Didn't look like it to me," Rose added, sitting next to Kristin with a bowl of potatoes in her lap that she was mashing.

Kristin held up her hand to forestall any more comments. "Nathan and I are friends. And last I checked, it's not a crime for a woman to have male friends, or for those friends to show concern for her."

The other three women shared doubtful looks. Cynthia ran her tongue over her teeth, trying to hold back the laugh that threatened to erupt. Sometimes her mother could be so transparent. "Sure, Mom. Whatever you say."

The withering look Kristin was about to give her daughter was interrupted by the doorbell. "Sit, all of you," Kristin commanded, already halfway down the hall. "Since I know you three want to gossip behind my back anyway."

Cynthia's eyes followed her mother's retreat before sending an amused smile at the other two women and following her down the hall into the front foyer. Taking another bite of her apple as she rounded the corner, Cynthia spied her little sister and brother-in-law just entering through the front door. "You made it," she said, swallowing and tossing the half-finished apple in a nearby trash can.

"We had hoped to be here two days ago," Kevin Phillips said, helping his wife out of her coat. At eight and a half months pregnant, Kristin's youngest daughter looked ready to burst and doing much of anything was difficult at best. "But I was in the middle of closing a major deal and couldn't get away until this morning."

"How is Gramps?" Felicia asked, reaching forward as best she could to give her mother a hug, followed by one for her sister as well.

"Holding his own for now," Kristin replied, giving her daughter a reproachful look. "You didn't have to come, Felicia. In fact, with your due date so close you shouldn't be traveling at all."

"I'll be fine, mother," the blonde woman smiled, rubbing one hand soothingly over her extended stomach as the other reached back to grab her husband's. "There are doctors in England as well as the States."

"Yes, but--"

"Mom," Cynthia stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Felicia can take care of herself. And she has just as much a right to be here as any of us." Cynthia's blue eyes dared Kristin to argue with her.

But any response Kristin was about to make was cut short as the doors to the sitting room opened behind them and Lionel emerged, Nathan following behind him. "And just what is this little soiree going on out here?" the old man asked, eyeing the group suspiciously.

"Gramps," Felicia smiled, crossing the foyer to greet her grandfather with a hug.

"How much longer do you have?" Lionel asked, pulling back to look her over.

"Just less than two weeks," she replied, reaching down to rub her stomach again.

"Ack! Where has chivalry disappeared to nowadays?" he looked over at Kevin in surprise. "How can you allow this young lady to be on her feet this close to her time?"

The young man smiled at the good-natured teasing. "Perhaps you'll have more luck trying to reason with her," he suggested.

Lionel wrapped one arms around each other them, leading them down the hall. "I'll tell you, when I was your age, a gentleman would have put his foot down and never let his wife out of the house when she was pregnant. Rose!"

"Dinner is ready, sir," Rose appeared in the hallway, stepping aside to let him pass.

Meanwhile, Cynthia watched as Nathan steered her mother down the hall behind the others with one hand on the small of her back. It was an inherently intimate gesture that didn't escape her attention. And neither did the glance from her mother that clearly said, Don't start with me young lady.

* * *

Over dinner and the drinks that followed, Nathan learned a bit of the history of the Westphalen family. Founded in the mid-sixteenth century by Sir Thomas Westphalen, First Earl of Welshingshire, the family had continued strong in British politics for the past five centuries with few skeletons in the closet -- at least acknowledged skeletons. Until recently, that is.

Lionel, the Fifteenth Earl, had decided early in life that politics held no lure for him. After a youth filled with one adventure and run-in after another, he finally settled down as a banker to raise his two children. Married to a nurse he met while wounded in Vietnam, they'd lived happily together, despite his father's protests, for many years until she died suddenly while Kristin was getting her MD. Both James and Kristin had inherited their mother's love for science and medicine and had pursued careers in those fields. Along the way, Kristin had even added two daughters and soon a grandchild to her list of accomplishments.

The house in which they now found themselves had been built by Lionel's grandfather just before the twentieth century began. Since renovated, it still retained some of the charm lost when the original had burned down. And, according to Lionel, had added a few ghosts of its own to history.

* * *

Nathan rolled over and glanced at the bedside clock. The bright red numbers flashed back at him -- just after midnight. He sighed, tossing back the covers and reaching for his robe. He simply had too much on his mind for sleep to find him that night, and rather than toss and turn some more, he decided to wander the house a bit, futilely hoping to tire himself out enough to get even a few hours of sleep.

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, Nathan was both surprised and happy to see it already occupied. Kristin was leaning against the counter, spoon in one hand and a container of ice cream in the other.

"I didn't expect to find you down here this late at night," Nathan said coming over.

She shrugged, "I didn't feel much like sleeping. How 'bout you?"

"Couldn't sleep. What flavor is that?" he pointed at the ice cream.

"Vanilla, it's all Marie had in the freezer," she said apologetically.

"Good enough," he replied, searching for a spoon.

Kristin pulled open a drawer and handed him a spoon. "I certainly hope you aren't ignoring any pressing duties by being checking up on me like this."

"Not hardly," he laughed, swallowing a bite of ice cream. "We're just mapping currents and following fish around. Not very exciting and nothing Ford can't handle on his own."

"How is Jonathan?"

He shrugged. "He's been having a bit of a hard time getting used to our new security chief, but I think he's getting over it."

"It must be difficult for everyone to get used to someone other than Chief Crocker," she said with a smile. "Especially you, I know you and he were good friends."

Nathan took another spoonful. "Not as difficult as it's been saying good-bye to some other people," he replied quietly, slowly bringing his eyes up to meet Kristin's in an intense gaze. Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he tried to determine what lay behind those deep pools of brown. Slowly, he brought his face closer to hers, lips brushing. The kiss was at first hesitant, but grew more and more intense as she responded. It was followed by another, and still another, until they were firmly wrapped in each others arms, ice cream laying forgotten on the counter.

Finally, Kristin pushed away from him. Seeing the puzzled, dejected look on his face, she whispered, "We shouldn't do this."

"Why not?" he demanded.

She sighed, letting the corners of her mouth tip up in a small smile. "Did you ever walk in on your mother making out with someone, even if it was your father?"

"No, but I see your point."

She ducked down and out of his embrace. Grabbing him by the hand, she led him toward the door. "I have a better idea."

part two

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