Note: I was trying to edit the rest of Sandrine's 2.0, but this came out instead. Just a little post-Endgame vignette, and my only PADD story. They used to be...kind of a thing. Enjoy.
DESSERT
She sees the exact moment when he stops paying attention.
The light of interest in his eyes flickers out and his expression goes blank. She's seen him do this dozens of times before during receptions with alien dignitaries and recitations of Vulcan poetry. Even during late-night, post-crisis mission debriefings. Those occasions were understandable, even excusable. But not now. Not this time. She peeks at the head of the table where Admiral Hayes is still prattling on about Vidiians…or Vori…or something. He's been talking nonstop for almost twenty minutes, this last Friday of the last week of reviews having devolved into a litany of opinion statements from Hayes and Nechayev and even Owen Paris about the pressure they were all under and the aplomb – or occasional lack thereof – with which they handled it.
She glances the length of the table and sees that while Harry still seems to be engaged in Hayes's pontifications, it's probably a ruse. The Ensign is sitting with his hands under the table, but Kathryn can see him tapping out rhythms on his thighs. Tom and B'Elanna both look to be on the verge of slumber, and no wonder. They're new parents. They're probably five seconds from comatose even without Hayes's droning voice lulling them into sleep. Tuvok has gone home to Vulcan, and she thinks that, deathly ill or not, he's lucky to be spared this occasion. Only Seven and the Doc are visibly paying attention to Hayes, offering up nods of affirmation and, from the Doc, even faint smiles of appreciation for the man's flat little jokes.
She herself stopped paying attention almost an hour ago. For days, she's been trying to decide what she wants to do after the debriefings. Her mind keeps wandering over her options – extended leave if she desires it, more counseling if she needs it, her choice of assignments if she elects to stay in Starfleet – but after seven years of denial she's forgotten how to want anything for herself.
She catches Neychayev's narrowed eyes on her and turns away quickly.
She glances across the table again at Chakotay.
At least she has the good grace to feign interest. Chakotay looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. Kathryn suppresses a sigh. He's looked that way for at least a year, maybe more. Disinterested. Disheartened. Depressed. She wonders if she's looked the same way to him.
After quick glance at the trio of Admirals, she picks up the PADD on the table in front of her and slides it into her lap.
Look sharp, she types. I think Alynna's onto you. She taps in a code, hits send and holds her breath.
The PADD on the table in front of Chakotay gives a soft chirp. Kathryn glances up in time to see him blink at it in surprise, then frown slightly. When Seven, seated to Chakotay's right, raises her pale, perfect eyebrow at him, he stills his expression and scoops the PADD off the table and into his lap.
Kathryn watches him read the message, glance at the head of the table where the Review Board is seated, and smile faintly. He types something into his own PADD and looks up at her with a pointed expression.
Kathryn's PADD chirps. She watches her senior officers shift in their seats for a moment, then glances at the message. Really? Looks to me like she's more interested in you.
Kathryn lets the PADD dangle from her fingertips and peeks up at the Board again. Hayes is still talking, oblivious to the lack of attention he's being given. Owen Paris looks bored but resigned to the situation, and Alynna Nechayev… Nechayev is frowning at her with an expression of utter contempt. Kathryn raises her chin and returns the Admiral's stare even as the PADD in her lap chirps again…and again.
Thankfully, Nechayev is the first to break the staredown. When she reaches for the pitcher of water in front of her, Kathryn looks down at the PADD.
Careful, Captain. You've just gone from bored to rapt at Warp 9.
Spirits, she's buying it. You're good.
The PADD chirps again and a third message pops up: But you haven't been paying attention since Owen wrapped up.
Kathryn bites her lip to keep from laughing out loud.
How did you know? she types, and waits, watching him.
He gives his head a little shake, types something and looks up at her with a barely concealed smirk. This time, she mutes the chime before it activates. You fidget when you're bored.
She types on her PADD and raises her chin at him. And you go still. We are exact opposites.
He reads the message and pauses for a moment. Kathryn watches his face move through several expressions in rapid succession. Surprise. Sadness. Indecision. As he finishes typing another expression flickers across his face, one she can't quite identify. Hesitance? Reluctance? She is still casting about for the right word when her PADD, now set to mute, vibrates on her thigh. Before she reads the message, she meets his eyes across the table. He is…wary. Of how she will take his message? She frowns and glances at the PADD.
Not opposites. Complementary.
She stares at the word for a long moment, her head swimming with its implications of wholeness, of oneness. It's how she saw them, once upon a time. Light and dark. Science and spirit. Head and heart. It's been years since she thought of them that way. The possibility that he still does, that maybe he never stopped, causes her throat to tighten. She grips the PADD so hard her palm will be bruised later. When it vibrates again, she jumps.
She's almost afraid to read the message.
Are you all right, Kathryn?
She meets his eyes across the table and nods once. He nods in relief, his gaze fixed on hers for a long, charged moment, until Seven turns to stare at them both. Her expression is frosty, even for her. Chakotay turns and gives her a faint smile, and Kathryn looks away.
Hayes just keeps talking.
Kathryn brushes her fingertips across the word on the PADD. Complementary.
She swallows hard and begins to type again.
Where were you a moment ago?
When he frowns in confusion, she types another message.
When you suddenly stopped paying attention. Where were you?
Fascinated, she watches him blow out a sharp breath as if he's been punched in the gut. His shoulders drop and he hunches over the PADD. Kathryn's hand twitches in her lap and she realizes that, for the first time in months, she has an urge to clasp his shoulder and reassure him, to touch his cheek and stare into his eyes.
Seven is still glaring at her. When the younger woman reaches over and rests her hand on Chakotay's forearm, Kathryn turns away quickly, desperate for the briefing to be over so she can finally escape to her mother's house in Indiana, far away from Admirals and debriefings and possessive former drones. She wills herself to listen to Hayes, who has moved on to a new topic: The Hirogen…or the Holodeck, it hardly matters which. Kathryn tries to listen but within five minutes she's lost the thread of Hayes's meandering speech and shifts in her seat. She starts to drum her fingers on the arm of her chair, remembers Chakotay's comment about fidgeting, and stops herself with effort.
The PADD in her lap vibrates again. She glances at Chakotay out of the corner of her eye. He is still slightly slumped over, but he's leaned his body away from Seven's, and her hand has fallen away from him. Kathryn is about to read the new message when she catches him peering at her from beneath lowered lids. When he sees her watching him, his eyes flick away.
She finally looks down at the message.
Hayes was talking about Tuvok and Denara Pel and the Vidiians, she reads, and catches her breath. I was about 60,000 light-years away.
A full minute passes while Kathryn wills herself not to react to his message and his meaning. As if by wordless agreement, they have never spoken about those three months, all those years ago. She wonders why he's bringing it up now, given his new relationship with Seven. She feels his eyes on her, his expectation palpable. When she has stilled the tremble in her fingertips, she begins to type: It's really closer to 67k. Impossibly far.
His reply arrives almost instantaneously. Not so far. I remember. Do you?
Without looking up, she nods.
The PADD vibrates again. I've been thinking about it. I miss it. He hasn't asked a question, but she nods just the same. I miss you. She sits very still as the words keep lighting up her PADD. I miss us. I need to talk to you. Have dinner with me tonight.
She's aware of her heart thudding against her ribs. There are a hundred questions in her mind: What do you miss? What happened to us? Why do you want to talk? Where do you want to go for dinner? Have you ever been to Indiana? Would you like to go tonight? Would you like to stay?
But the question her fingers tap out is the only one that matters in this moment. What about Seven?
A minute passes, then another.
Kathryn risks a look across the table. He is staring at the PADD. She can hear that his breathing is labored, ragged. She has rattled him. He visibly settles himself and types a response.
The Admiral told you.
He looks up at her and she nods.
He rubs his chin before lowering his fingers to the PADD again.
I don't love her.
Remembering Seven's hand on his arm, Kathryn clenches her jaw and stabs out a response. I forbid you to toy with her.
He shakes his head at her, his eyes pained.
She grabs the PADD again. Then what are you doing with her?
He sighs and types for a long time, fingers flying over the PADD. She clenches her fists on the arms of the chair until his response starts pouring in, line by line.
I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. I haven't been myself in months. I was starting to feel useless on that ship. Angry and resentful. Everything seemed so pointless. I couldn't remember how to be happy and I was so tired. When I was at my lowest she was there. But now I feel like I'm waking up from a bad dream. I don't know what I was thinking. I've let it go too far. I don't love her and I don't want this.
Kathryn cradles the PADD in her hands. As irritated as she is was with him for playing with Seven's emotions, she can't miss the evidence of deep depression in his words. Nor does she miss the implication, however veiled, that Seven was there for him when she herself was not.
Hesitantly, she taps out a question. What do you want?
The reply is instant. I've forgotten how to want anything for myself.
Kathryn bites back a sob at the echo of her own thoughts.
His message continues. I need to talk to you. I need to talk to Seven, too. First. Then I need to talk to you.
You need counseling, she types.
So do you.
I've already seen someone. Have you?
I will. Monday. I swear it. But I need to talk to you now. Have dinner with me tonight.
"…so we congratulate you on the end of your long mission and thank you for your exemplary service. You're all free to go. Enjoy your leave."
Startled, Kathryn looks up from the PADD. The Admirals are all rising. Paris and Hayes are smiling at her officers; Nechayev is still frowning at her. Kathryn stands and the rest follow her lead at once. All but Tom, who rises only after B'Elanna pokes him to get his attention.
"Admiral Hayes," Kathryn says, nodding to the old windbag. "Admiral Nechayev. Admiral Paris. On behalf of my crew, I thank you for your attention to detail in these proceedings. They've been nothing short of thorough."
Admiral Hayes beams even as Nechayev's frown deepens. Owen Paris chuckles but overlooks the dig. "Tom, B'Elanna? Are you still planning to come back to the house with me?"
Tom smiles. "Wouldn't miss it, Dad."
The older man addresses he rest of the assembled officers. "I assume you all have plans for the weekend? Ensign Kim?"
Harry grins. "Mom's got a big pot of Hoppin' John on the stove and cheddar biscuits in the oven. I can't get there fast enough."
Everyone laughs. Owen turns to the Doc. "How about you, Doctor?"
"I'm being installed at Starfleet Medical this weekend," he says proudly. "And I'm pleased to say our own Seven of Nine is in charge of the operation."
Kathryn watches a look of surprise cross Chakotay's face. He turns to Seven. "You are?" he asks.
"I am."
"You've never mentioned it," he says carefully.
"Does this assignment interfere with your plans?"
"No. No, it doesn't." There is an uncomfortable silence at the table as everyone turns to stare at Seven and Chakotay. As if sensing his friends' shock, Chakotay squares his shoulders. "But I'd like to speak with you for a moment before you go with the Doc."
She lays her hand on his forearm again. Out of the corner of her eye, Kathryn sees B'Elanna's face harden. "Of course, Chakotay," Seven says.
Chakotay steps away from the former drone and turns to Kathryn. "What are your plans, Captain?" he asks softly.
"I'm going home to Indiana," she says. His face falls a little, until she raises the PADD for him to see. "But not until tomorrow afternoon. An old friend got in touch with me today. It's been a long time since I've seen him. I didn't realize how much I'd missed him until now. He's got something to take care of first, but I'm hoping he'll stop by my apartment when he's free. I'll have a late dinner waiting."
Chakotay's smile is as bright and welcome as the sunrise over Lake George. "If he knows you well, he'd be wise to bring his own dinner," he teases.
She places her hand on her hip and stares him down. "If he does, there will be no dessert. And if I remember correctly, he's very fond of sweets."
Startled, he rocks back on his heels, eyes wide. Then he gives his head a small shake as if to clear it and laughs quietly. "I'm sure he doesn't want to miss dessert with you, Kathryn," he says.
The twinkle of mischief in his eyes, absent for so long, makes her smile. "He doesn't," she purrs. "Because dessert is going to be exquisite."
-END-