Without invitation, she had moved surreptitiously into his quarters; the thought that he might object had never entered her head.
Three days had passed and he'd become accustomed to her presence or rather he'd come to positively enjoyed her company; he even found excuses to visit her during his duty shift. It was the little things that pleased him most - the way she moved in close on the sofa, the welcome surprise when she unexpectedly pressed herself against him, the sound and warmth of her body at night.
Just now, it was the sight of her morning stretches that had him enthralled - those long legs, that flexible body, the wicked smile.
Having finished her routine, she sauntered over and ensconced herself on his lap. Obediently he started to caress her.
"I shall miss you" he whispered.
She turned and looked at him.
"I know," he answered himself, "you belong to Desotto and he returns tomorrow, as does Beverly ... But we can still spend a bit more time together."
Forty minutes later Picard entered the bridge with his companion at his side. As they walked down the ramp all eyes were fixed on her regal manner; only the First Officer sniffed in disapproval.
"Did you want to say something Mr Worf?"
"No Sir." He wouldn't object, not in front of the crew.
As the Captain lowered himself into his chair, his companion placed herself in the vacant seat on his left. From there she gave Worf a smug little smile.
"Everyone," Picard spoke up," I want to introduce you to Luna. You may not know this, but under the tutelage of Lieutenant Desotto, Luna has become an expert at detecting corrosion in the titanium plating.
The crew remained silent, not certain if this was some kind of joke.
"Mr Worf", Picard continued," I want you to register Luna as an honorary member of the ship's complement."
The Klingon bit his tongue. "In what position, Sir?"
"Ship's Cat of course. What else?"