"Admiral-" the young ensign carrying the PADD that accompanied the request was moving so quickly as they walked that Kathryn didn't even really see who it was. "Can you sign this please? It's tomorrow's agenda."
Kathryn signed her name as she walked. It had taken a few weeks to learn the gesture, but now she could do it in her sleep, or even in a coma.
"And the seating arrangement for the Bolian trade delegation," the ensign swapped PADDs and they kept walking.
Signing her name again, Kathryn wished she had a chronometer so she could start the countdown until her next cup of coffee. It had to have been two hours since she'd come to her office that morning. At least that, if not two years... Some days she was convinced the laws of time and space didn't apply to Starfleet Headquarters. Time was passing everywhere else, and moving all around her while the Starfleet brass held still.
"When you're done here, you have thirty-two messages to respond to, five subspace communiqués, and four treaties to read over," her aide said efficiently. The PADDs in front of her changed, giving her a moment or two to look at each request before they disappeared.
They stopped, coming to rest after their march in front of the conference room. Kathryn blinked at the door. It wasn't marked and she couldn't remember what she was walking into.
The aide took pity on her. "The Andorian-Rigelian historical society, Admiral," she explained. "You're helping them plan a suitable display for the front lobby of the new Federation museum of crystalline art."
"Crystalline art," Kathryn repeated, hoping to jog her own memory. Something about wind? She couldn't get her mind to respond at all and that meant it was definitely time for more coffee. To hell with the rationing scheme she'd promised the Doctor to try.
"You liked the zephyrous motifs, Admiral," the aide reminded her. "The crystals are laced with hydrogen so they float in normal atmospheric pressure. Wind currents are-"
That was it.
"-Used to make patterns," Kathryn remembered with a relieved little sigh. "I liked the purple and gold one that looked like a seahorse."
"Yes, Admiral." The trace of sympathy in the young Bajoran's bright brown eyes was comforting. It reminded her of someone she missed desperately and she paused in thought. All she could do was smile at this young woman who reminded her of her former first officer.
Kathryn was going to have to find a way to keep this aide, whoever she was. Maybe Alynna could help her. The other admiral had been trying to convince her she needed more help and Kathryn had admitted to herself last night at 0300 that she definitely did. It really wasn't fair. Captains had crews: she'd had people to delegate to. On Voyager she had a family; at Starfleet headquarters she had staff. She ate alone at her desk instead of in the mess hall, and that was assuming she didn't have a lunch, dinner, or breakfast meeting she was expected to attend.
She shook herself out of it, found her most professional smile and waved her aide closer. "Ensign-"
The ensign maintained perfect composure, even though she'd probably told Kathryn her name eight or nine times already. "Bahre Hjel, Admiral."
"Well, Ensign Bahre, we're going to have to circumvent the suggestion of my doctor and illicitly procure a large amount of coffee if I'm going to make it through today. Is that going to be a problem?" The last thing she needed was another well-meaning babysitter.
"Of course not, Admiral. My mother's the same way with her raktijino. I'll see to it." The slim ensign started to walk away and Kathryn stopped her. Her surname was vaguely familiar.
"Your mother?"
"Ambassador Bahre, Admiral. Bajor's inagural ambassador to the Klingon Empire."
Another thing she should have known, Kathryn berated herself. "Have I-"
"You haven't met her, Admiral. I'll get your coffee." She tilted her head towards the door and smiled gently. "Please, begin your meeting. You have several more today."
"Only several?" Kathryn asked, shaking her head.
"A certain amount of mystery in dire situations is important to maintain hope, Admiral."
"Right," Kathryn sighed and tapped the door control. One meeting at a time.
ZZZZ
She set down her toast next to her cup of soup and picked up the second PADD in her list of reports from the rebuilding efforts on Romulus. The once proud planet had emerged from their bloody coup without a government and the two warring factions that had sprung up were making the once mighty empire a divided and dangerous place. As she read through pages and pages of statistics on the shocking lack of basic resources available to the Romulan people, the headache that had been a threat on the horizon wedged itself firmly behind her eyes.
Her soup was cold when she picked it up again. Kathryn frowned and drank it in a gulp. It didn't lose nutritional value just because it was cold, and if she finished it, no one would give her that look. It was certainly a well-meaning look and the Doctor, Seven, her aides and even ice-and-efficiency Alynna Necheyev were making it a habit. Maybe it was all still too new. It was hard to be the newest Admiral and she had days when she was convinced Picard was right. The captain's chair was the best place in the universe to be.
Of course, rumour had it that he was madly in love with the former head of Starfleet Medical, who had just returned to his ship, and finally being with Beverly Crusher might have had something to do with Picard's contentment with the Enterprise. It was sweet, if it was true.
Kathryn lifted her coffee cup, which thankfully was still warm, and let her mind drawn her eyes to the window. It was raining in San Francisco, which wasn't a surprise. Trails of water crept down the window through which she overlooked the grounds. So much for the walk she was going to sneak into her afternoon.
She didn't have a right to be jealous of Picard. He was a kind man and a good captain. She'd only met Doctor Crusher a few times professionally, but the doctor wrote an excellently concise report and she was passionate, two things Janeway greatly admired. Perhaps the Enterprise was just lucky. She'd seen the communiqués about Will Riker's wedding and she'd been tempted to blame the luck of the Enterprise but there were four more weddings from her own crew on her calendar. People who weren't her moved on with their lives. How she was going to make all of them and still attend the trade conference on Z'Thuka Four was beyond her planning skills.
The bottom of her coffee cup made her sigh and she dragged herself up from her chair. Her legs were stiff and her lower back reminded her that she'd been sitting too long. At least on Voyager she moved around. Hell, today she could almost use a red alert. Not a serious one, Kathryn knew better than to tempt fate, but anything that didn't come with a PADD attached to it would certainly brighten her day.
She poured herself more coffee, ignoring the Doctor's voice in her head. It was only Wednesday, and there were three more days before she was technically off work on Saturday. Even though she would work, and she'd come into the office and she'd be less than useful because her aides had the day off and actually used it. Kathryn glanced at the sugar she never used. Two sugars was far too much for one cup of coffee, but Chakotay liked it and she kept the sugar bowl out for him.
And she missed him. She missed him coming into her office and being happy to see her. She missed having dinner with him and knowing that if she needed him, he was there. He was a deck away: a tap of her commbadge and he'd be there.
Now he wasn't. Now he was on Voyager, with Harry, Tom and B'Elanna. Tuvok was off with Riker's Titan. Neelix wrote when he could. Seven made time for dinners and lunches when she could but Kathryn's family was scattered. As if Voyager had been the nest, all her children had grown wings and flown. Except by some twist of fate, Chakotay got to keep some of them and she was on Earth, alone. Maybe he'd just always been that much better at integrating.
She'd ignored the first three summons, Kathryn realised when one of her aides, this time a young Andorian, entered the room with a fresh round of PADDs. She nodded and thanked him. When she sank back into her desk, the weight of her uniform was worse than before. It was only mid-afternoon, and she had a long way to go.
ZZZZ
"Admiral, please, hold still," the aide said. This aide was non-commissioned and he had insisted on playing with her hair all the way down to the formal entrance hall. Kathryn was within a tug or two on her damn dress from smacking his hands away.
She closed her eyes and took a very slow breath. This gave him enough to time to pin the headdress into her hair. The weight of the complicated lattice of precious metals and gemstones lent new strength to her headache.
The gentle. meticulous Ubarians, who were celebrating their entrance into the Federation, had been a culture obsessed with the accumulation of gemstones. In fact, most of their hierarchal structures could be defined by the type and quantity of gems one wore. First contact with the Federation and the knowledge that their were cultures without gems or currency had forced their culture to start over with new assumptions. After a few years of remarkably peaceful turmoil, they were joining the Federation and giving up their caste system.
To celebrate, all Ubarians were attending unadorned, as the Federation members usually would be, and the Federation had asked their admirals and ambassadors to wear the traditional Ubarian gems before they were permanently sent to the Ubarians new museum of art.
It was a lovely gesture on the part of the Ubarians; the party promised to be as warm and welcoming as a state dinner could possibly be. The headdress itself was a beautiful, delicate work of art, wrought of glistening silver metal and set with brilliant blue stones that seemed to burn from within like each held a star. It had appeared, along with the long deep blue dress, in her office with the aide who'd spent so much time on her hair.
As captain, she'd dressed how she thought appropriate, and yes, she'd worn a few strange things during her tour on Voyager including the dress of the queen of the spider people. As an admiral, Kathryn wore what the fleet told her to wear. She went where she was sent and she smiled and represented the best of Starfleet and the principles of the Federation. She didn't mind, not really. Her aide, that young Bajoran, had been carefully finishing the complicated straps on the almost too bare back of her dress when Kathryn had realised that she couldn't remember the last time she'd chosen something to wear for one of these things herself.
Dresses came to her. Her dress uniform was set out in her office when she needed it. Ensigns brought her jewellery and were available at a moment's notice to help set her hair. Starfleet even provided her an escort. Sometimes it was a member of the foreign delegation, sometimes a visiting captain or notable Starfleet scientist: she always had a date. Tradition dictated that admirals arrive with someone on their arm, and tonight it was Captain Tomal, of the Federation starship Ladnyy. She'd met him before. He was a serene, elegant Vulcan with a distinguished record. He'd be good company with her headache because he would appreciate abstaining from small talk.
Tomal met her at the end of the hall, inclining his head slightly in greeting. He wore a headdress of similar fashion to hers, and they'd obviously been chosen to match each other. If the Ubarians were as friendly as they were colour coordinated, they'd be excellent members of the Federation. She wrapped her arm into his and allowed herself the moment's fantasy that it was Tuvok escorting her to one of Neelix's strange and wonderful little parties.
B'Elanna would be teasing Harry in one of the corners as Tom watched her and laughed. Tuvok would keep an eye on everything and never admit he was enjoying himself. Seven would be on the fringe with the Doctor, studying humanity. Neelix would circle the room with a tray of canapés instead of the immaculately groomed Starfleet waiter standing in front of her with a several varieties of sushi. The Ubarians ate their food raw, her memory supplied her.
The sushi was delicate and flavourful. Even Tomal seemed impressed with the dressed avocado and mango chutney. The flutes of champagne floating around were real and the bubbles were the first thing to make a dent in her headache all day. She sipped her second glass, remembering how light-headed she'd been from Neelix's compote and the way Chakotay had-
She was losing herself in the past, and fantasying about a future she'd never have. Kathryn knew better than to let the ghosts of her empty nest haunt her, but when she glanced down at the bubbles clinging to the crystal, she could see B'Elanna pass by her in a red dress that floated over the floor. Seven was in purple, and she was the centre of attention. Harry and Tom were passing the buffet again and Neelix was advising them of his favourites. Tuvok, not Tomal, handed her a purple and white striped vegetable from Ubar he'd found particular succulent and she was home. She closed her eyes and let the unfamiliar flavour trick her into being back home on Voyager.
Any moment now, Chakotay would touch her shoulder, his hand deliciously warm against her bare skin and they'd-
Kathryn jumped, nearly spilling her champagne over the skirt of her dress. The hand on her shoulder squeezed gently in apology.
"Forgive me for startling you, Admiral," a deep, male voice that was poignantly not Chakotay's apologised. He circled her, offering his other hand to guide her up. "I merely thought I'd ask for this dance."
Tomal took her flute of champagne with a polite nod to her visitor. "Captain Picard."
"Captain Tomal," Picard recognised. He too wore a headdress, which crowned his bald pate with brilliant green gems. As he turned to Tomal, his face lost emotion, and he could have easily passed for Vulcan himself. Kathryn was immediately fascinated. Picard's record had noted two significant encounters with Sarek, and a war-preventing mission with Spock. He obviously knew his way around Vulcan manners. "I trust the festivities are adequate to occasion."
"I find them most aesthetically and gastronomically stimulating," Tomal answered and Kathryn had to smirk. That was a rave review from a Vulcan.
"Indeed," Picard agreed. "It has been a fruitful and pleasant evening. May I borrow the admiral for a dance?"
Kathryn turned her eyes on Picard with surprise. He didn't have a reputation for misogyny and if she didn't know better, she'd think he was specifically trying to insult her by asking her lower ranking escort instead of her.
Tomal merely nodded. "I believe the admiral would enjoy such an activity, though I cannot speak on her behalf."
"Jean-Luc-" Kathryn began but Picard cut her off.
"Come, Admiral," he said, guiding her to her feet. "Grant a lowly captain the pleasure of your company."
Picard swept her up, taking her out onto the dance floor with well-practised ease. He brought her into the Andorian triple-step with a grace that suggested decades of practice. He was easy to follow and his hand on her back was firm.
She'd managed to avoid dancing most of the evening. The combination of the triple-step's requisite spins and changes in position and the champagne replaced her headache with a vague sort of dizziness. Focusing on Picard's calm expression and his bright hazel eyes was all she could do to keep herself there, in the present.
"Either my company has gotten drastically more dull over the years, something I'm willing to acknowledge may be the case," Picard said, smiling just enough to be fascinating. "Or your thoughts are back in the Delta Quadrant."
"Forgive me," Kathryn said, finding her voice with a little shake of her head. "You're an excellent dancer."
"My wife has worked hard to make sure I become so," Picard replied. There was a warmth in his smile and it rushed through her to settle in her chest.
"Congratulations," she offered, smiling back. "That either hasn't made it into the communiqués yet or it's on my desk."
"Probably the latter," Picard agreed. Sympathy softened the lines around his mouth and brought more light into his eyes. "It can become an ivory tower of paperwork in the admiralty very quickly if you're not careful, Admiral."
"Kathryn," she corrected with an exhausted sigh. "Please. You'd be doing me a favour if I didn't have to be Admiral Janeway for a dance or two."
"Of course," he agreed, spinning her out, then back into his arms. It was an elegant, well-executed manoeuvre but her head was floating on enough champagne to make it feel like a barrel roll at warp three. She hit his chest a little harder than was proper, but he took it in stride and restrained himself from spinning her any more.
"What have you been doing since you've come home, Kathryn?"
It was a simple question; a polite one that needed an answer. "Trade negotiations and humanitarian aid," she replied. Everything behind Jean-Luc's handsome face was spinning a little even though they were moving through the steps of a slow, ancient Earth waltz.
"Admiral Janeway does trade negotiations and humantiarian aid," Picard, she meant Jean-Luc, corrected her. "What do you do?"
He couldn't have cut deeper into her psyche if he was Betazoid. Kathryn dropped her arms to his waist, suddenly exhausted. "Visit my mother," she answered. "Could we-"
"Of course," he agreed readily. Jean-Luc's strong arm went around her waist and he led her away from the orchestra and the brilliantly coloured crowd of people. The balcony was out of the way and the rain poured down from a obsidian sky just past the roof. The sound of the rain on the stone and metal of headquarters was comforting.
Kathryn took the bench and reached up to the crown in her hair. Taking it off might do wonders for her headache, but she didn't dare risk not being able to put it back on again. Jean-Luc sat beside her, folding his hands easily in his lap.
"I believe I have had the pleasure of meeting your mother," he said after a moment. He thought in silence, then broke into a smile. "At the welcoming party for your families, your mother explained to me why replicated bread was just as much of an imposition to the human palate as synthehol is instead of wine."
"That sounds like my mother," Kathryn chuckled, lowering her head to rest on her fingertips. "I don't know what she enjoyed more, lecturing Starfleet or getting to see so many of my crew reunited with their children."
He politely didn't mention her inability to keep her head up and continued the conversation. "When I captained the Enterprise-D, I was appalled that there were families on board. They didn't have any place going into space. It was far too dangerous."
"The Galaxy-class experiment is from another age," she said, sighing and lifting her eyes to the railing in front of her. She could just make out rain smacking against the stone. "Before the Dominion and the Romulans."
"And the Borg," Jean-Luc added for her. "Before that ship met her untimely end, I have to admit I had become accustomed to the secondary school plays and the science fair. Even Captain Picard Day grew on me."
"Captain Picard Day?" she asked, giggling.
"Indeed," Jean-Luc said with an almost serious nod. His smile showed how touched he'd been by the strange holiday. "Children have a valuable place in our lives. I am even coming to wonder if they might even fit into those of career Starfleet officers."
"Marriage isn't the only change in your life that's going to be coming across my desk?" Kathryn wondered, honestly surprised by Jean-Luc's admission.
"If you'll forgive me my candour," he paused and stared down at his hands. The weight of this impasse in his life weighed him down as if the crown on his head were of lead instead of silver.
"You don't have to-"
"Beverly would very much like to have a child," Jean-Luc admitted, straightening his dress uniform jacket uncomfortably. "The Enterprise-E can accommodate children, not as well as her predecessor to be sure, but there is no logistical reason to avoid starting a family. "
Kathryn looked him over, from his interlaced fingers to the discomfort he was valiantly letting her glimpse on his face. They had more in common than she'd ever realised, she and this celebrated Starfleet captain. "And you love your wife."
"Completely and utterly," he answered with a romantic's smile. There was no guile in Picard's side to this conversation. Perhaps he'd been drawn to her as a kindred spirit; she couldn't help connecting with him.
"Have you ever wanted a child?" she asked, wrapping her arms around her chest. The chill of the rain hadn't gotten into her bones yet, but it was starting to cut through the champagne haze.
"For many years I didn't spare it any thought," Jean-Luc replied honestly. He caught the eye of one of the seemingly telepathic waiters and asked for coffee.
"Thank you."
"It goes with rain better than champagne," he observed and returned to his thoughts. Finally, he straightened up and met her gaze. "I lived for my ship and my crew for more years than I spent any thought on my own life. Considering I had Starfleet command and the rest of the fleet to rely on and I still kept myself at arm's length, I can't imagine the walls you might have made of your responsibilities so far from home."
"There's no need for them now," Kathryn said. The waiter brought them both coffee and Jean-Luc took his black. She clung to the mug and couldn't bring her eyes to his. She didn't know him, yet he'd cut to the heart of her isolation with the precision of someone who'd stood in her place. "My crew isn't even mine now."
Jean-Luc sipped his coffee, watching her. There was no impatience in his eyes, only a fatherly serenity that she appreciated and envied. He took his hand from his cup and rested it gently on her shoulder. The warmth of his touched calmed her as much as the coffee. "They may leave us but I have been told the best of us never leaves them. I'm more inclined to believe that the best of our crew remains with us captains."
"Perhaps both," she sighed and closed her eyes. She missed her crew and Jean-Luc was right, the best of them was always with her, making her stronger than she'd ever been before Voyager.
"Kathryn," he drew her attention. The flat of his palm moved across her bare back and she kept her eyes closed rather than risk inflicting her lonely tears on him. "It took me more than a decade to risk my feelings with Beverly. Regret is a terrible thing to live with. No amount of paperwork can bury it; it makes a terrible companion and a worse bedfellow."
Tears shocked momentarily away, Kathryn opened her eyes and stared at him in surprise. "Have you been following some fleet gossip I've missed?"
Jean-Luc smiled enigmatically and for an instant, she thought she knew that smile. He set down his coffee on the bench next to her and got to his feet. "The Enterprise tends to attract the best in all things, including gossip." Bowing to her cordially, he kissed her cheeks in quick succession. "I hope finding yourself will not be as difficult as finding your way home, Kathryn."
Watching him walk back into the party, she sat at a loss for words. The music drifted out onto the balcony and mixed delicately with percussion of the rain. She drank her coffee until the cup was empty and her fingers held only glass. How many times had she met Picard? Less than a handful, certainly, yet he knew her. It was more than just knowing her. He knew her the way her mother, Tuvok and Chakotay did. He'd seen through to her soul in the space of a dance and a cup of coffee.
When she started to shiver, she crept back in. Tomal politely invited her into his conversation with the Ubarian Second Matriarch of Medicine and the rest of the evening passed pleasantly. She never caught another glimpse of Picard and when she tried to find his wife, no one had seen Beverly Picard.
ZZZZ
Back in her office, Kathryn went straight to her computer terminal without even taking the time to remove the heavy crown from her head. "Computer, what ships are currently in orbit of Earth?"
"The Asimov, the Bellerophon, the Budapest, the D'hjty, the Endeavour, the Goddard, the Ladnyy-" the computer continued but she'd stopped listening.
"Where is the Enterprise?" Kathryn demanded. Cold fingers ran up her spine.
"The starship Enterprise is currently in sector three-three-eight, en route to the Miyuukha stellar cluster."
She couldn't have imagined it. It simply wasn't possible. "And Captain Picard?"
"He is aboard the Enterprise," the computer reported. "Would you like to raise him on subspace?"
"No, thank you." Kathryn drummed her fingers on the desk. The rain lashed her window and she stood alone in the dark. The Enterprise was light years away, yet she could still feel Jean-Luc's hand on her shoulder and smell the hint of his cologne as she remembered his lead on the dance floor. He'd been here. He had to have been.
It didn't make any sense. She wasn't going crazy. She wasn't hallucinating. She'd seen Picard, Kathryn was willing to stake her life on it.
"Are there currently any spatial anomalies detected within Starfleet headquarters?" she demanded of the computer.
"None detected."
"Any quantum instabilities? Schisms? Rifts? Wormholes?" She was grasping at straws but it simply wasn't possible. It couldn't be.
"No time-space anomalies of any kind are currently present within Starfleet headquarters."
Kathryn took a step closer to the window. The rain was really coming down now and she could barely make out the buildings on the other side of the courtyard. Reaching up to remove the crown from her head, she released her hair and let it fall down to her shoulders. Leaving the crown on her desk, she turned back to the window and stared out into the wet oblivion.
"Are you saying I'm crazy?"
"Please restate the question."
"Of course," she sighed and dropped her forehead to the glass. Maybe she was losing it. Perhaps she'd gone over her limit on caffeine and putting champagne on top of that was too much for her poor paper-work-addled brain. The cool glass soothed her headache a little and she frowned at her own reflection in the glass.
"The best hallucination I can come up with is a captain telling me it might be about time for me to make a move on my former first officer...even my insanity is dull and lonely." She pushed off the glass, ready to transport home for the night to avoid the rain.
Except, there he was, cutting across the courtyard in the rain with his white dress uniform showing through the rain like a beacon. It was Picard. It had to be.
Kathryn tore out of her office, lifting up her skirt and running down the corridor to the turbolift with her dress in her hands. She could just catch him if she hurried. When the doors opened up into the deluge, she paused for a moment before taking off her shoes and leaving them in the lift. She had to hold more of her dress in her hands, but she wasn't going to take the risk of twisting an ankle in her heels on wet pavement.
The rain was cold and her body began to tense as she ran though it. She kept running. Kathryn could see him just ahead of her. Water soaked her dress, pasting it to her skin, and her teeth were beginning to chatter as she caught up with the figure in white.
He had stopped beneath one of the overhead walkways and turned to her. She watched him turn unbearably slowly, as if they were caught in a temporal eddy.
"Captain!" she called. Her voice barely carried over the rain and she wasn't prepared to stop when he turned to her. Jean-Luc began to smile and lifted his arms from his sides.
The stone was slippery and in her bare feet she skidded and failed to halt. Instead of stopping in front of Jean-Luc, she crashed into his chest.
Strong arms in a warm, dry uniform wrapped around her and held her upright. The embrace continued once she was steady and the scent of him was more familiar than Jean-Luc had been. She knew the smell of earth and leather and it was most definitely not Jean-Luc Picard.
"You're soaking wet," Chakotay chided her, brushing wet tendrils of hair out of her face. "I was just on my way up to your office. You didn't need to come find me."
"Chakotay?" Finding a Hirogen would have been less of a shock. She ran her hands over his chest, as if feeling him would make him disappear back into her thoughts where he'd come from. "How did you- you're not- Voyager-"
"Made orbit half an hour ago," he soothed. Reaching up to his neck, he undid the catch of his collar and started slipping off his dress jacket. "You're doing to freeze to death out here all wet."
Kathryn looked down at her sodden silk dress which now left nothing of her body to the imagination. Staring stupidly at the backs of her arms, she watched the little goosebumps form through the sheen of water.
"You didn't-"
"I sent you three communiqués," he promised her, wrapping his jacket around her shoulders. "Here. Please."
Burrowing in, she clung to the jacket and the scent of him overrode even the clean cool scent of the rain.
"They're probably on your desk," Chakotay continued, stroking her forehead and trying to smooth her hair. "You were just telling me it's like a black hole."
Kathryn remembered that. That had been last week when she'd realised how long it had been since she'd tried to write to him. Her teeth were still chattering, but within the warmth of his jacket, she'd stopped going numb.
"What are you doing out here?" He asked, leaning closer. His lips almost made contact with her forehead and it ached that he stopped just before. It physically hurt not to be wrapped up in him, instead of his jacket.
"I was looking for someone," she answered, shaking her head foolishly. "It's been a long day."
"You could have taken an umbrella," Chakotay suggested sympathetically. "Come on, I've got a starship in orbit with a full complement of towels. I believe you've heard of it?"
He was smiling as if he'd never been gone and she wasn't standing in front of him like a drowned rat on a half-mad mission. His eyes were exactly as she remembered them, and his dimples were perfectly stunning.
"Maybe I have?" she asked weakly. "It's probably somewhere on my desk." Kathryn couldn't stop staring at him, as if her eyes were starved, but Chakotay didn't seem to mind.
He tapped his commbadge. "Voyager, this is the captain. Two to beam up."
The transporter started to take her and she reached for his hand. He couldn't possibly disappear in transport, but she might wake up, or come back to her senses or some other damn thing that would pull her away.
Chakotay buried his surprise and held her hand as they re-materialised back home on Voyager. Kathryn's knees were soggy and she grabbed his other arm for support.
"You're here," she said weakly.
He dismissed the transporter operator with a quick nod of his head and then turned his full attention to her. "Of course I am. I really did try to tell you Voyager was coming, Admiral."
"Chakotay-"
He rubbed her arms, trying to warm her up. "Were you looking for a friend? A member of the diplomatic corps? Someone's lost puppy?"
"I don't know," she answered with a quick shake of her head. "Chakotay, I really don't know."
He held her chin, searching for something in her eyes. "Sometimes the journey is what counts, not the outcome."
Staring up at him, she finally cracked and hugged him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Kathryn pulled him as close as she could. "I needed the outcome this time," she murmured into his neck. "As insane as it sounds, I think I was looking for you."
His arms went around her in response, holding her close and safe. "In the pouring rain?"
Shaking her head, Kathryn released him and kissed his cheek. "Everywhere. I've been looking for you everywhere."
He took a step back, staring at her in surprise. As taken aback as he must have been, he shrugged and smiled sweetly. "Okay, now you've found me."
Taking his hands, she slipped her small cool ones into his warmer, stronger fingers. Squeezing him tightly, Kathryn looked up from their interlocking fingers and smiled. "I did, didn't I?"
Chakotay leaned close to her, taking a deep breath next to her ear. Lifting their hands up so they were between their chests, he pressed his lips to her knuckles. "I hope you weren't looking too long."
"Not that long," she promised, smiling at him shyly as his face rose to meet hers. "Or forever, I really can't be sure."
Chuckling as he nuzzled her cheek, Chakotay paused in front of her mouth for a moment. "You'll have to tell me about it."
She dropped his hands, stood on her tiptoes on the cool transporter pad and pulled his lips down roughly to hers. Kissing him hard and desperately, Kathryn fell back into herself. Wherever she'd been for the last few months, wrapped up in the haze of being Admiral Janeway, Kathryn had finally found her way home.