A/N: I know, I know, I'm dragging it out. It's the characters' fault - they're all clamoring for attention and shoving their way into my plans, so...It's coming. I promise. I thank you for your patience.
"Come on in," Tom called in response to the chiming announcer. He stepped back and assessed his handiwork. Everything was perfect. Now, if only B'Elanna would show up on time.
The door shushed open behind him, and he turned to encounter the tired, but warm, smile of Kathryn Janeway. "Capt—I mean, Admiral!"
Janeway chuckled and batted the formality aside. "Might as well surrender, Tom; we all know I'm stuck as the Captain to the Voyagers. And I can't say that I mind, either."
Tom smiled. "Kinda weird, huh? Being back, I mean. Even after three months…"
"I don't think I'll ever get used to it," she admitted, nostalgia moving into her gray-blue eyes.
"Glad I'm not the only one who misses it."
They slipped into an easy silence, each lost in thoughts of Voyager and the adventures left behind them in the Delta Quadrant. Janeway was the first to shake out of it, that familiar no-nonsense steel coming back to her spine as she straightened and looked around.
"It's a nice place you've got here, Tom. How's the adjustment gone?"
"About as well as it can, I suppose," he answered, setting wine glasses at each seat. "It took a couple months, but I think the deluge of visitors has finally stopped. Kinda hard, too, finding out who's left and who isn't."
Janeway flicked her gaze to his, compassion lining the wrinkles on her face. "I'm sorry about your father, Tom."
He sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, me too." Then he blinked and began straightening the napkins in their holders.
"Where's B'Elanna?"
"Still at the Academy, I'm sure. We barely see her anymore."
"The Academy? So she took the job there?"
"Yep."
"When?"
"The day after he died," Tom blurted, and looked up.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"At least it's work this time, and not the holodecks."
"I guess…I thought we were past this, but… She has access to them there."
"And you're worried about her."
"Always. Is that wrong? Shouldn't I trust her more? I mean, it's been eighteen years since then, and she hasn't relapsed."
"She hasn't had reason to, Tom. She had Chakotay then, and you and Miral and everyone else when she heard about her father. She wasn't in the thick of it, like she is here."
"Yeah. Yeah I guess so. It's just hard."
"It's hard for all of us."
"Stupid press isn't making it any easier."
"How's Miral doing?"
"Better. She took it really hard the first week, and then again at his funeral. Idiot reporters wouldn't leave her alone. I can't believe we're still like that. I mean, I thought we were past all this cruelty and fascination with others' suffering. Aren't we supposed to be enlightened?" His words burned like acid on his tongue, but he had to speak them. They were true. He had to put the truth out there.
"I can't answer that, Tom."
"Good. I'm glad. At least someone in this world is still big enough to admit they don't have all the answers."
He returned his attention to the table, straightening forks that weren't crooked and smoothing placemats that weren't creased. Neither spoke until Miral wandered into the room.
"Mom here yet?" she asked, tossing her messy braid over her shoulder. Then she saw Janeway.
"Captain! I'm sorry—I didn't know you were here."
"I was just about to ask your father for directions to your room." She smiled warmly and embraced Miral, who was now taller than she by several inches. "My, you've grown. Has it only been two months since I saw you?"
"Unless you count last week," Miral said, and smiled. It gave Tom hope.
"Your hair's longer. Are you going to keep it that way?"
"I'll probably cut it when I enter the Academy."
"Well, I'm sure it will be just as beautiful. Tom, you'll have to chase the boys away."
Miral ducked her head.
"If B'Elanna doesn't beat me to it," he laughed.
"Still keeping up with your Thursday night readings?" Janeway asked.
"Yes ma'am!" Miral replied proudly, though a shadow overhung her grin.
"And you still refuse to use padds, I suppose."
"Of course."
Janeway smiled lopsidedly, eyebrows twitching. "So what's the pick this month?"
"To Kill a Mockingbird."
"Ahh, good ole Harper Lee," Tom chimed in, closing his eyes appreciatively. "Pity she only wrote one book."
"Do you like it?"
"As irrelevant as that is, yes I do."
Janeway threw her head back and laughed. "Chakotay's taught you well."
Tom tensed, but Miral's smile slipped only a little.
"Yes, yes he has."
"So what do you think of Harper Lee's novel? Did you know that it was considered scandalous in its day?"
"I did. What I find…"
Tom smiled as his daughter fell into her element, arguing the finer points of Earth's ancient literature as if her companion were her peer and not one of the most celebrated officers in Starfleet history.
Yes, Chakotay had taught her well. Well indeed.
Three hours later, as she left the Paris residence with a smile sliding from her lips and laughter fading into the coldly bright night air, Kathryn tried to recapture the warmth she'd felt just moments before. But always, thoughts of Chakotay came to claim her, troubling her mind with images of sunken eyes and silent lips, broken only by the presence of those he loved most…
Even she couldn't get through to him after Seven.
Only B'Elanna, and Miral.
She felt like she'd failed him, those thirteen long years it took to get home. Failed and failed again, in every way she could and then some.
And now she'd failed B'Elanna, too, because she couldn't wish her happy birthday, couldn't smile and pretend everything was all right when it really wasn't, when things were crashing and shattering about them in a way that made them all wonder why they'd ever wanted to come home. What was so bad about the Delta Quadrant, anyway? What waited for them on Earth anymore? What good was the Federation? After twenty-three years…wasn't Voyager enough?
B'Elanna. Oh, B'Elanna, what have you done to yourself? Kathryn asked the sharp silent air. But she already knew the answer.
She'd never come home.