Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Trek universe, though I wish I did. It's a travesty, I know.

Author's Note: This is a weird story, even for me. My muse slipped this plot bunny into my mind and I just couldn't bring myself to ignore it. This story disregards certain aspects of Jeri Taylor's 'Mosaic' (since I haven't read it all). According to Memory Alpha, Voyager was pulled into the Delta Quadrant on April 20th. Assuming that it took several days for the ship to reach the Badlands from DS9, I speculated on when the mission to capture the Maquis should have ended. I know I've probably fudged it but oh well. Thank you to Nova for the beta read, though I went in and fiddled with a few things after she looked over it for me so all mistakes are my own.

The silence is comforting. She's lying on her side, pressed back against the solid form behind her and it's so peaceful that she doesn't want to leave. She doesn't have to, not yet, but tomorrow is going to be here soon and she's already missing him. His arm is over her waist, holding her close, and she can feel the steady beat of his heart against her back, soothing and calming her as it always does. She's excited for tomorrow, for the new step her career is taking and the exhilarating new adventure she's setting out on, but she'll miss him like she does every time she ships out on a new mission.

It's always the same; she leaves for a few weeks, serving aboard a starship and happily doing her duty while he stays on Earth and teaches his classes at the university. He doesn't like space and she doesn't like feeling confined to one planet so they compromise, and they make it work. Her shore leaves are spent at their house in San Francisco and he always takes a long weekend so that they don't have to leave the bed except to make sure Molly has food and water. They've had a lot of time together lately, though, because of the fact that she's been transporting directly to Utopia Planitia to oversee the shakedown cruises and final touch-ups to her new ship. She's a captain now, something she's wanted for as long as she can remember; getting her fourth pip was the second most important moment of her life, topped only by his proposal.

"You're keeping me awake with all that thinking, Kath."

She grins and elbows him gently, knowing full well that he wasn't actually sleeping. Rolling to her back, she smiles up at him and kisses him lightly before running her finger down his jawline.

"Oh please.I'm keeping you awake with thinking? That'll be the day," she teases, kissing him again when he opens his mouth to snark back. They hold each other tightly and she feels the moment slip from teasing to arousing in a heartbeat. She's been hyper-stimulated since the moment she walked through the front door and found him waiting for her, wearing nothing but a grin.

He turns and covers her with his body, pressing her into the mattress and she lets out a frustrated sigh at the lack of bodily contact between them. She needs him, wants him with an intensity that leaves her breathless and she kisses him hard again, wrapping her arms around his neck. Pulling him close as she tries to get him exactly where she wants him, she groans as he hinders her movements.

"Patience," he chides and she groans again, shaking her head as she bites at his shoulder.

"I need you," she breathes. "I'm leaving tomorrow for three whole weeks and I need you now so I don't forget you."

He makes her wait for an endless second and then slides into her waiting body, filling her as only he knows how. She whimpers softly at the feeling of him inside her, something she swears gets better each time. Her toes curl as he starts to move and she matches his pace, her hips rising up to meet his. She shifts just a little and his next slide pushes him deeper, making her shriek. Her climax takes her by surprise, throwing her body into intense spasms that pull him right over the edge with her. The warmth of his semen triggers her again and she whimpers as she peaks again.

He pulls her close, gathering her in his arms, and she trembles in the aftermath of her orgasms. Resting her head on his chest, she snuggles against his side and presses a soft kiss to his chest. She feels so safe in his arms, so content and loved, and she knows that the next three weeks are going to be hard.

"May ninth," she whispers into the dark, propping herself up on her elbow so she can see him. He looks down at her with a frown, obviously trying to follow her line of thinking.

"May ninth? For what?"

"Let's get married on May ninth. I'll get home the day before and we'll go to Admiral Paris on the ninth and have him marry us. My mom and your parents can meet us at his office."

"You're ready to set a date?" he asks and she hears the shock in his voice. In all the time they've dated and the years they've been engaged, she's always held back when it comes to setting a date for the wedding. She knows she's been scared, however irrationally, that something would happen when the date was chosen; it happened with Justin and she doesn't think she'd survive losing Hobbes. But she knows it's time to settle in and make the commitment, to show him that she's ready and that she loves him enough to fight her fear.

"I love you," she whispers, leaning down to kiss him. "I love you and I want to marry you. I'd do it tomorrow but Voyager leaves early and Owen's already stretched thin as it is."

"I love you too, Kath. So much," he says, wrapping his arms around her again and holding her tight. "May ninth it is."

She smiles and settles against his chest again, fighting her tears as she loses herself in the emotion of the moment.

Three weeks, she thinks. Just three more weeks.