The look on her face just before we beamed up said everything. It was a warning look. I had to know what she wanted before we got back to the constraints of uniform and rank and schedules and reports. She was expecting me to behave myself, to pretend that the electric we both felt in our exile didn't happen. Everything that had gone before didn't matter once we were captain and first officer again. In the brief moment once we were back on the ship, my Kathryn slipped away from me and Captain Janeway was back in her place, avoiding my eyes and giving out orders like she had never been away. I was at a loss. She knew how I felt and I had even let a tiny voice start to tell me that my feelings might not be in vain. How wrong I was. Once we were back to normality, I didn't exist.
The first night, back in my quarters, I could hear her moving around next door. My ears strained to hear the telltale splash as she climbed into her bath tub. I imagined her back on New Earth, wrapped up in a towel, calling my name, needing me and I was surprised to find that I was crying. It had been years since I had cried. I used the pillow to wipe away my tears but they wouldn't stop. I asked my spirit guide how Kathryn could just have brushed me aside like that but she didn't have an answer. As I lay and listened to the sounds of her nightly routine, I developed a sickening, painful feeling that New Earth was the closest we would ever be and that there would be no such opportunity again.
I flipped over onto my front and buried my face in the pillow. I was destined to make this journey alone and pining for her. She would never need me like I needed her; that much was blindingly obvious. I vowed to wait for her but I knew it was no good. She was only interested when she thought that we would be stuck together. Now we would get back to Earth and Mark would be waiting and I would have to watch as he took her in his arms and –
It was unbearable and it wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.