Disclaimer: Saban and Disney's, not mine
Notes: Takes place post-series, spoilers apply
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Trip was almost certain it would be considered rude by human standards, but it didn't stop him from finding a hidden spot and watching Katie as she wrote in her diary.
He couldn't help it. There was something… compelling about her as she worked, the normally energetic young woman suddenly becoming quiet and thoughtful, scribbling furiously when inspiration hit her, or biting the tip of her pen when she reached a mental block. He never asked what she was writing, although he had speculated about it several times: childhood memories? Letters to her family, maybe? For all he knew she could be writing a novel in her off hours (what was the human saying again, everybody needs a hobby?). He had kept his mouth shut partly because he didn't want her to know he'd been spying on her all this time… but mostly because even he knew that if Katie of all people wanted to keep something to herself, she had a very good reason to do so.
When the truth came out, and the pain she had kept hidden, except for maybe in the pages of her diary, couldn't be ignored (and he had known, he had known in the back of his mind, why hadn't he done anything sooner), Trip started wondering if maybe he should confess, if only to get her to share some of her problems with him, like he did with her. But Katie had pulled through her grief, things had gone back to what passed for normal, and despite everything he found himself falling back into his old pattern of just watching.
But now they were back in the year 3000. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Katie write anything. And as much as Trip wanted her to share her problems with him (and there had to be some irony somewhere that the telepath was feeling shut out), he knew that having something just for her and her thoughts was more important.
It had taken nearly a month and a good chunk of his paycheck, but it had finally arrived. One of the good things about Xybria not being as industrialized as Earth was that paper, books, and pens were still common.
He let out a breath as he felt the cover under his palm. It wasn't the same as the one she had written in when they were with Wes, but hopefully she wouldn't mind that.
--
Trip had told her that he needed to stop by her place to pick up some spare parts and a data pad. That was true, he just happened to neglect to mention the other reason why he wanted to see her.
"Oh, found it," he could hear her say from the bedroom. Working frantically, he grabbed the journal from his bag and placed it in full view on her desk. Now all he had to do was hope against hope that he hadn't crossed a line and she wouldn't hate him because of that.
"Seriously, Trip, you've gotta learn to organize, or you're going to lose…" She froze in the hallway. "… something."
It came out all at once. "Please, please don't be angry, but I remember seeing you write back in 2001, and I know you weren't able to bring your diary with you, so I thought maybe if I could replace it--"
He was cut off by the hug and the kiss against his cheek. Luckily for his ribs, she broke off and held the new journal in her hands gratefully.
She grinned playfully as she ran a thumb over the pages. "This right here is one of the reasons why I love you. You always know what I'm thinking."