Disclaimer: It's the glue which hold us together....Paramount, the proud owners of Voyager.
Note:The * means that I am rather unsure of this fact, and would appreciate any corrections or reassurance as to whether I am right or wrong
Sunshine drifted through the mirky fog, alighting the moors* of the emerald
isle with a pure golden glow that made it seem, almost, for a time, to be purely
heaven-sent. Kathryn Janeway, for all her love of home and hearth, found herself
quite captivated by the lush grasses, dispite the gentle tug of homesickness
that often filled her heart. "Katie?" She spun round, green and white skirts trailing in the fresh mud as
she heard his familiar accent graze her name. The edge of a field, far from
town-she'd been so sure he wouldn't find her. "I'd wondered where you'd gotten
to."
"Michael." It seemed like ages since they'd last spoken, and she suddenly
realized how much she'd mmissed his voice. "I'm sorry. I had to think things
out." "You think quite a bit, Katie." He came closer, just a little, and the warm,
musky scent of his colonge wrapped itself around her, as if a heavy cloak. "What
about?"
"Everything." She spread her arms wide, turning in a full circle, gesturing
about them. "What would you say, Michael, if I told you that everything we see
here- every place you and I have been together- wasn't real?" "What isn't real about it?" He asked quietly, and she knew he was struggling
to understand what she was talking about. "Never mind" She couldn't have him understand- she knew that now. But dispite
everything, she so wanted him to. Wanted to have him know everything she knew,
for perhaps that tiny spark of knowledge would somehow make him seem all the
more real. Then again, perhaps it would result in nothing at all. She,
always the scientist, leaned reluctantly toward the nothing. Michael came closer still, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into
his embrace. But it felt uncomfortable, and she moved away.
"Not now." She said. "I need more time." "To think?" He sounded mildly suspicious. "Haven't you thought enough, Katie
'O Clare?" She shook her head- the negative. "No." "I should think you have." He touched her gently, palm staying to rest
lightly on her shoulder. "When are we going to settle down, Katie? We can have a
cottage with thatched roof, and a garden...I know you've mentioned your
garden...that is, if y' don't like the pub." The pub. "I love the pub." She whispered, letting her gaze drift out
over the land, shrouded once more in whisps of blue-grey. "But I can't settle
down." "You're not ready, then." "No, I'm not." Turning back to him, she tried her best to avoid his eyes. "I
don't know how I feel, Michael. You're charming, handsome...everything I ever
wanted. But I can't stay." He looked disappointed- of course, she'd expected nothing less. "Well, then,
Katie, I suppose I'm powerless to stop you."
But she remained quiet, giving him a look of utter melancolia. He, finally,
turned and left her standing there- footsteps soft and plodding, until he was
far down the dirt road, and did not look back.
So she stood, eventually becoming aware of the now gnawing pain in her gut,
and so hesitantly, she moved onward through the field. "Computer, exit." She murmured, and thus reality made it's appearance, so
many things left behind.