disclaimer: characters © Paramount and CBS

Another Chance
by ajundkj

you say you're tired
liquid as water
but you'll succumb now as I stroke your back
I'm the best that you know
and every time you think of me
I hope you'll think of true romance
and every time you want to leave
you give us both another chance
Neil Finn "Try Whistling This"

I can still remember your face as I told you that it was over. You didn't look shocked, simply made that slight crooked smile and let out a breath I think you'd been holding for the last two months. We sat there next to each other on the sofa in the apartment that we had slowly begun to share. You hadn't even taken off your coat. Maybe you knew. The fire in the fireplace set off a warm glow that set you in a soft light. I wanted to reach out and touch your face once more. But the warmth of the fire couldn't take away the chill that had formed between us.

You rubbed your eyes. Not from any tears but from months of trying to make your life work. And mine, too. It was a tired we feel when we realize the battle is over and we can finally rest. You stood then and mumbled something about coming by next month to get your things before you were abruptly out the door.

I didn't expect it to happen so suddenly and with such little discussion. I cried for the first time since making the decision to end it. Why had it been so easy? After years of putting our feelings aside and finally being together, it was too easy to walk away.

We didn't know what to expect when we got home. After you and Seven went your separate ways, we started spending more time together, resuming our friendship until it was more. But then we found the reality of home - long missions, new responsibilities that come with rank, and a Federation recovering from a devastating war. I watched you struggle with being the man you became in the DQ while being faced with the man you used to be here. Seeing the aftermath of the war on the Maquis stirred something in you and you struggled to figure out your place in this new life. This woman warrior could no longer give you the peace you desired.

I began to look forward to your long missions away and I started requesting conferences on distant planets. I thought the time apart would give you a chance to seek out answers without the burden of our new relationship.

I knew it was over when we took that much needed vacation after a summer spent on opposite sides of the galaxy. The leaves were changing and the air was crisp with the first few vestiges of fall. You pulled me into your arms as the storm started to blow in from the sea. That first day was magical and gave me a renewed hope of us. We rented that house on the Cape for a week, to relax and find where we kept missing each other. But your last mission had taken its toll and reminded you of what you'd lost. With each day we fell into our routine, avoiding each other with excuses of work and obligation. My love could not save you the devastation of losing your last ties to the Maquis.

It was supposed to be easy when we got home. After seven years of endless struggle and sacrifice we would be together and live happily ever after. That romantic in me (lost for too long) was living out the fantasy that was you. We'd fallen into this relationship so easily and I thought it would simply go on forever.

Now it was over and I've spent the past month trying to move on. I spent much of that time at my office, trying to avoid the emptiness of what we were trying to make at home. Your blue sweater is still on the back of the chair in the bedroom. You wore it every night. I can remember the feel of it against my cheek as I fell asleep on your shoulder. Your favorite coffee cup in the cabinet, untouched. You liked the feel of the handle, sturdy. I don't drink coffee at home anymore.

I try on the blue sweater, indulging in one last feel of it's warmth before you arrive to take the last few bits of your life from here. We agreed to be friends but we both know that eventually we'll simply fade out of each other's life. We'll both move on. We know how.

On the nightstand is a small glass orb with swirls of blue and green that we got in Venice on one of our first "proper" dates. The colors reminded me of Earth and we talked about how happy we were to be home. That night I told you I loved you for the first time. We walked along one of the side streets, lost, and you were making jokes about how we could chart a path home to Earth but not find our way around Venice. In my laughter I said that your humor was one of the things I loved about you. You stopped suddenly and looked at me with a hint of confusion, passion, and relief. There was an eternally long silence before you kissed me for the first time. I thought we would be so easy.

Between work and the emotions of losing you, I just wanted to fall into bed and sleep for days. But you were going to arrive any minute and it would all be over. Just like that. So easy. You were right on time, and not expecting me, you let yourself into what used to be our home. I was still wearing your sweater and we both looked like hell. We stood silent, the charged air building around us about to explode. You diffused the tension by walking to me, taking my hand, and leading me to the sofa where this all began. You wanted to talk and I wanted this to be over. The pain of seeing you was too great and I wished I'd stayed at the office.

You began stroking my back like you did when I had a difficult day. Small reassuring circular motions that let me know you were there and that everything would be okay. You told me you were sorry for the way things had turned out. I know you said other things, maybe even told me that you loved me, but all I knew was the feel of your hand on my back and each motion reminded me of the man I fell in love with so many years ago. You were my angry warrior trying to find peace in a different world, a man who had always been at my side. I couldn't abandon you now. I fell against you and you pulled me into your arms. It was so easy.