Disclaimer: Paramount owns Voyager. "Obla dee-obla-da, life goes on....oh, Braga, hide before we come...." Oh, yes..and Faith Hill owns the song "Breathe"
Note: Of course, I wrote a story about "Fair Haven" before I saw it...now I write one the day after. And I say this: Although I am a HUGE J/C fan....I realize that they'll never make it, (thanks to a certain someone's ideals), so I'm going to call this a J/M fic. Kathryn Janeway, and Michael Sullivan.
just watching over me,
and suddenly I'm melting into you.
There's nothing left to prove,
and baby, all we need is just to be,
Caught up in the touch,
slow 'n steady rush.
Well baby, isn't that the way that love's
supposed to be?
I can hear you breathe.
Just...breathe.
We sat by the lake, you and I, your head balanced gently on my shoulder, eyes closed, lips slightly parted as you breathe. Our unfinished lunch- irish coffee included- sits stewn about beside me. I can hear you breathing, your hand snaked oh, so carefully through my fingers. How can I love you so much, Michael, just knowing that you're not real..you're everything I've ever wanted..and yet you're not real and I know it. But five years..six...is so long to go without knowing the love of another person, and my own needs are overwhelmingly strong. I have to thank Tom for this someday..for creating a character so intriguing as yourself- someone who drew me in and kept me, hologram or not.
You stir, and look into my eyes. Yours are of strong Irish desent- a deep, deep blue..matching mine, and drawing me into their everlasting depths. Michael...I want nothing more than to..
Kiss you.
You kiss me first.
And as we sit here, my head now on your shoulder, and your hand stroking my hair, which I've unpinned and let flow...I begin to dream of something different. Of a life in Fair Haven, where I'm waiting tables with ease and charm, and you're behind the bar. The sign now reads- "The Sullivans", and after hours we clean the floors and baseboards, you never leaving my side. When I'm through, I can retreat through the holodeck doors, with you by my side.
What an idea....ha, to marry a hologram? Is that as far as I can go? Really, the thought...I chuckle, which gets me a wonderfully curious look from you.
"Katie?"
"Michael." I reproach, gently, and your lips venture onto mine. They're warm and sweet, and as I embrace you, I realize with a flood of understanding that yes, I can do this. I can do everything with you that I would do with a flesh and blood lover. But I'm not your lover, and I never will be.
Melancolia.
Depression.
Everything I feel now....which is not to be described by those two words that have haunted me for years.
It will never haunt me again.
~Fin