Homecoming
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one, and I don't make money from this.
Rating: PG or so
The visit was an unexpected and pleasant one. I had long since retired from the bustling world around me and retreated back to my grandmother's home. Dry, hot, but beautiful. I'd kept my home small and simple, and far away from the noise of the galaxy.
No one expected it of me; I didn't expect it of me. Who would have thought, 'Torres, engineer extraordinaire…definitely a traditionalist.' I don't even have a damn consol in my home, and I love the new found freedom. I tend my garden, I watch the skies, and occasionally I ride to the nearest town for supplies. But I am free to be however I wish, and that has been priceless.
And then the visit happened.
I hadn't even though about Voyager in years, I hadn't thought about my friends in as long, but when I saw Seven's form outside my window, there was no hesitation only recognition. Her back was to me, hands linked at the small of her back. Her hair was still twisted up into its bun, but a few locks danced over her blue Starfleet collar. With her head tilted she was observing a small wind chime I'd cobbled together with twisted metal and empty bottles. That image seems burned into my mind.
She'd walked out to my home for two days and explained that she planned to stay for a week or two. Shore leave from the Voyager-B. It was a touching, if not confusing gesture.
We'd never really made the friend marker and while we'd long since stopped fighting. I had never expected to have Seven show up at my house. No one else had made the effort to visit.
She followed me like a silent puppy as I went about my daily business. Feed the animals, tend the garden, fix things around the house, and enjoy the land. Seven had trouble with the last one. I urged her to let the soil swallow her up, the sky cover her as a blanket. Allow the stars to show you, remind you, about what is so wonderful about space. While her arms were open to the Earth, her heart remained sheltered inside. I wept with the rain at her state of being.
We occasionally talked about Starfleet, the Gamma Quadrant, and her children. Those conversations flowed smoothly over cups of lavender tea. Her laughter would catch upon my fireplace and skip out into the night. A small twinkle in her eyes made me feel young, and I found within her gentle touch an untapped love.
It crackled and sang every day. Bit by bit it grew stronger. And our worlds seemed to join flawlessly, seamlessly.
Then her leave ended and she left the promise of another visit a hushed affair. She was unsure of her next chance. I promised to make her something special next time, something more than that wind chime I'd given her to enjoy. Her smile told me tales and gave me advice. A gift would be unnecessary. So, with all things done she left.
As it stands, the visit was an unexpected but beautiful one.