A/N: Thanks, always, to Mizvoy, for the editing.


THE DEFINITION OF HOME

By KJaneway115

For Miz, who wanted a lake story


Home (n); (1) a house, apartment or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family, or household; (2) the place in which one's domestic affections are centered; (3) any place of residence or refuge; (4)a person's native place or own country


Time for self-reflection was not always a good thing, thought Kathryn Janeway as she sat on the edge of the dock, her legs dangling over the side. Across Lake George, the sunlight cast brilliant reflections on the clouds, making them appear as though they were lined in gold. A long, deep purple string of clouds stretched across the southwestern portion of the sky. The surface of the lake rippled in the evening breeze, cascading over itself in small waves, and the trees rustled in time with each gust.

It was a beautiful setting, and Kathryn took a deep breath, attempting to absorb the serenity of the Lake George sunset. The peace and quiet of the Janeway family lake house was a welcome change from the bustle and hullaballoo that had surrounded her since Voyager's return to the Alpha Quadrant. But, for the first time in three months, Kathryn Janeway had time to reflect on her accomplishments, and she could already feel uncertainty and depression creeping up on her.

Voyager's homecoming had gone better than she could have ever imagined. The former Maquis had been pardoned and granted their field commissions. Seven and Icheb had been welcomed into Starfleet with open arms. Even the former crew of the Equinox had received honorable discharges because of their years of service on Voyager. She had been hailed as "legendary," "a paragon of Starfleet principles," "one of the greatest captains in Starfleet history." But the praise seemed hollow. Neither the media nor the admiralty gave proper weight to the times she had failed, all the people she had lost, all the wrong choices she had made. But she could feel the weight of every single one. She could not help but ask herself what she could or should have done differently. She had a hundred questions, but not a single answer.

The limited communication Voyager had had with the Alpha Quadrant in recent years, had done little to mitigate the crew's isolation in the Delta Quadrant. They had missed the entire Dominion War, an event that had reshaped both the Federation and Starfleet, and they had come home only to find that many of their family members, friends, and colleagues had been casualties of war. This was especially true for Janeway. Those people who hadn't died had been altered by their experiences in ways she couldn't understand, just as they could not comprehend the enormity of her exile in the Delta Quadrant. A part of her had expected to return and find home exactly as it had been when she had left. Instead, everything was different, even Starfleet and the Federation. In a way, she felt as though everyone she had known before her journey had gone forward, while she had remained frozen in time.

Her sister Phoebe, now married and expecting a child, had moved off-world, and her mother had moved with her to be close to family, selling the family farm in Indiana in the process. Kathryn's own house had been repossessed when she was officially declared missing in action, and while her mother had held onto a few keepsakes, many of her worldly possessions had been lost forever.

Her former fiance, Mark, was now married with two small children. Her dog, Molly, had died the previous year, and two of her puppies that Mark had kept were now full grown dogs. Mark had been present at Voyager's debarking, filling in for her mother and sister, who had been unable to get to Earth in time. Kathryn appreciated that he had not wanted her to be alone, but she had been surprised at how much seeing him had affected her. It had felt so strange to be in his arms again, after having dreamt of that moment so many years ago, but to have it mean none of what she had once assumed it would mean. Instead, she knew that he now belonged to another woman, and that his affection was that of a long-term family friend.

In fact, in the three months since her return, she had discovered that most of her old friends who had been single seven years earlier had married or found serious relationships. Some had already been divorced or widowed and were remarried for a second time. Many had children. It seemed that they had all forged lives for themselves, found communities and startedfamilies, while, with Voyager's crew disbanded and scattered, she had nothing left of the life, the community, and the family she had forged during their exile.

As soon as the debriefings, promotion ceremonies and official functions had ended, Kathryn had escaped to the Janeway family home at Lake George. The lake house had always been a sanctuary for her. Her mother and sister had come with her and had spent two weeks renewing their bond, but now they had left, and she was alone. The solitude was both a blessing and a curse. As the sun sank below the tree-lined horizon, and the clouds began to shift from gold to pink, Kathryn breathed in the sweet smelling fresh air and let her mind wander.

Seeing the shifts in her friends' lives made her realize how little her own life had changed. Now that she had gotten her crew home, she lacked a sense of purpose and longed for a worthy goals and relationships to fill her life. There had been talk of the admiralty, but after meeting her older counterpart, she wasn't sure that was a path she wanted to take. And personally, her life hadn't moved forward at all; in fact, her life had moved backward. She was not engaged, and nowhere near getting married or having children. She didn't even have many close friends among the crew, after years of isolating herself as she had so staunchly believed a captain should. Upon reflection, she realized that this bothered her more than she would have imagined.

She had never been one to place relationships or family ahead of her career. Even when she'd been much younger, those aspects of her life had always taken a back seat to Starfleet. But now, at forty-two, she wondered whether career alone would be enough to fulfill her. When she was old, would a lifetime in Starfleet be a comfort to her? It certainly hadn't been enough to satisfy the older Admiral Janeway. Kathryn wanted someone to share her life with, and not just from fear of growing old alone. Listening to her sister talk about building a home with her husband, about all the hopes and dreams they shared, made her realize how desperately she wanted that, too. She wanted to build a life with someone. On Voyager, she had not been able to acknowledge that desire to herself because it had been impossible. Now that her crew was safely home, she could admit that her career was not enough. Perhaps the admission is the first step, she thought.

The sun was gone now, leaving a golden glow behind. The sky was beginning to darken, and off in the distance, the first pale star appeared. She bit her lip as her eyes welled up with tears. The night sky on Lake George only made her think of one person, the one person she had shared it with on Voyager. "How many nights did I imagine this moment?" she whispered to the stars. "But always, when I imagined it, you were here with me."

Yet, instead of sitting on the dock beside her, his strong arms around her, his solid body snuggled up against hers, Chakotay was in San Francisco, or in Sweden, or somewhere else, with Seven of Nine on his arm. He was laughing and joking with her. He was touching her face and smoothing her hair. She was tasting his luscious lips in a kiss, and he was lavishing attention on her at every opportunity.

As well he should, Kathryn reminded herself. You certainly never gave him any indication that you wanted to be more than friends. He deserves all the happiness in the world, Kathryn, and you know it. And that was why she had gone to him after Voyager's return and wished him and Seven the best. He did deserve it. They both did.

But what about me? She knew it was a terribly selfish question. She had accomplished what she'd set out to do. She had gotten her crew home; that was all she had wanted. If she'd had to choose between Chakotay's and Seven's happiness, or hers, she would have given either of them her portion of happiness in a heartbeat. So things were just as they should be. But if that was true, why did she feel so empty inside?

Her relationship with Chakotay had always been complicated. Sworn enemies who had become best friends, their cultural backgrounds couldn't be more different. She had grown up with everything a girl could want, with parents who would have supported her no matter what she chose to do in life, parents who enforced a strict discipline but only out of the unconditional love they bore for their daughters. While the house in Indiana had been an aged farmhouse, it had also offered her all of the modern conveniences, as did the summer house at Lake George. She'd had lessons in whatever she had wanted to learn, help with her studies if she needed it, and through any hardship, she had always known that her family was there to support her.

She knew from many conversations they had shared aboard Voyager that Chakotay's childhood had been nothing like hers. His family had never gone without food or shelter, but their means had been meager at best. There had been no tennis lessons or summer house. His family had loved him, but his father had never supported his choice to join Starfleet or encouraged his curiosity about other cultures. Then, after he had run off to the Academy to make a better life for himself in Starfleet, Cardassians had invaded his home planet, killing many of his family and his friends. By the time he'd resigned from Starfleet and joined the Maquis, he had only one sister left. Kathryn knew what it was like to lose people. She had lost her father and her first fiance, but she couldn't imagine losing most of her family at the same time.

Despite their differences, she and Chakotay had forged a friendship unlike any either of them had ever experienced. They respected each other's intelligence, but were not afraid to challenge the other whenever their opinions differed. They had developed an easy working relationship much more quickly than either of them had expected, given that they had started out as enemies. He had become her friend, confidant and biggest supporter.

At first, they had flirted with each other without either of them realizing it. It had not been until they had lived together on New Earth that she had understood the metamorphosis their relationship had undergone without any conscious effort. Voyager had returned for them before they could share much more than a kiss or a touch of hands, and she had been grateful for that. There had been a few other times that they had come close to crossing the line between friends and lovers; the night they had spent on her Lake George holoprogram after she had nearly died, and the dinner in her quarters on the night before Voyager's failed slipstream attempt came to mind. But each time, one of them had paused, pulled away, and regained their better judgment. She tried to forget the memories of how soft his lips had felt on hers, and the way her small hand fit into his large one. She tried to forget the absolute comfort and safety that she felt in his arms. She tried to forget that he had felt like home.

Later in their journey, as tensions rose between them and exhaustion and despair created a wedge between them, things had only gotten more complicated, and each of them had withdrawn, in their own way, not only from the other, but from the entire Voyager community. It had seemed, at the time, like there was no other choice, but now Kathryn wasn't so sure. Space and time had given her perspective. The quiet that now surrounded her had given her space to think, and the silence of the outside world was forcing her to admit some truths that she had been unable to see before.

She cared for Chakotay, deeply, perhaps as deeply as she had ever cared for anyone. She felt connected to him. She now realized that there was a part of her that had always held onto the hope that when Voyager got home, they would be able to explore the attraction that they had felt for so many years. She had imagined many different lives with him; in fact, he was the only person she could imagine sharing her life with.

Is it time to let go of that? she wondered. I think I must be foolish to hold onto this hope, now that he's with Seven. He would have left that last day without even saying goodbye, if I hadn't stopped him. He doesn't care about me anymore, not like that. She hadn't even heard from him in the month since Voyager's debriefings had ended.

Do I always want what I can't have? she asked silently, looking up at the stars that were slowly filling the night sky. Is it my own choices that have left me alone and unsatisfied? Could I make myself into one of those people who can be content with less? Or is the problem that I'm not open to a relationship? If I was, would the man of my dreams walk right into my life? Or are some things simply not meant for me?

Off in the distance, the long, lonely cry of the loon echoed across the lake. She breathed in the fresh, sweet smelling air and looked up at the stars. As diligently as she searched for answers, she was left with only more questions.