Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek Voyager or its characters. No sane writer would make them do what I'm making them do!
Author's Notes: It's been a very long time but I've finally updated! Sorry for the long wait, hope everyone's still alive and ready for more. This has been really difficult to segue, I know what I want to happen, but getting there is the difficult part. I hope I never make you wait so long between posts again. Here's a little something while I work on it some more. On with the show!
"...no matter what happens with this whole marriage business, I hope we can still be friends."
"I'd like that," Tom says, "We never said 'Love, honor, and obey' or 'till death do us part', just 'take care of each other'."
They both look down at the pool table, the forgotten game silently begging to be finished. They look back at each other, feeling content that they'd begun to clear the air between them. Although he still isn't sure how to think of his captain in this new light, hearing about her youth—she sounded like someone he would've been friends with, had they been closer in age and location—left Tom feeling more relaxed around her. He reminds himself that right now she's just Kathryn, a human being; she's playing pool with him in her nightgown at 0100 hours and doesn't look remotely self-conscious about it. An idea crosses his mind, and something about the way Kathryn looks at him suggests that he could get away with it. He takes her hand with a casual smile, pulls her a step or two closer, and kisses her lightly on the forehead.
Kathryn's heart jumps in surprise, and it's all she can do not to gasp aloud. A strange warmth flutters over her from within, and she slowly releases a sigh of quiet content. He's not afraid of me, she thinks, amazed. He kissed me…he kissed me? She looks up at him, bemused by his strange behavior. I could get used to this…she ponders with a sneaky smile, indulging herself in the pleasure of his company.
Tom wonders immediately if he's done the wrong thing. He'd definitely surprised her, but from the looks of things it was a nice surprise. His relief is short-lived, though; next he sees a strangely determined look cross Kathryn's face. She takes a breath, as though bracing herself for something, and further closes the space between them, pressing her body into his.
"Hold me," she murmurs, "Just-just…for a little while."
Tom awkwardly puts his arms around her, patting and rubbing her back, feeling her shivering against him as her senses go wild. She sighs into his shoulder; he reaches upwards and runs his fingers through her hair. It's all she can do not to cry as he touches her with such earnest chastity. Strange that his innocent attention could remind her of so much that she's missed out on, making her crave more, so deeply. After a few moments of this, he steps back, keeping her at arm's length. She looks back curiously.
"That was…I…I hope you didn't mind." Kathryn fidgets uncertainly, looking a little embarrassed.
Tom shakes his head, "It's not a big deal, I understand. One problem with Starfleet, not enough officers remember to hug their captain. Everyone needs to have contact sometimes." Kathryn blushes.
An awkward silence descends on them; neither knows which direction to look. Finally, she jerks her head back to the table, "Want to finish up here and try going to sleep again?"
"Good idea. Whose turn is it?"
It takes a minute for her to remember, "You, I think. I got one of yours in."
"Oh, yeah. Let's see what we have to work with…"
"You have plenty to choose from," Kathryn sasses him playfully.
"Ha, ha," Tom replies sarcastically, "You're only ahead by one, so don't get too cocky." He bends over the table, sighting down his cue to take aim. An upward glance is his undoing as he beholds his commanding officer with a very un-captain-like smile on her face. It's as though she's admiring him. The look throws off his concentration and he misses his shot by a mile. Her pensive smile erupts into giggles at his expense. She gets her next shot in without a problem, getting a smirk from her competitor.
"So, what else don't I know about you, the Great Kathryn Janeway?"
" 'Great'", she scoffs, "I'll let you in on a little secret: that is an image I struggle to maintain every day. You know full well that half of it is luck."
"All right, I understand. So…what are you afraid of?"
This direct and very personal question makes Janeway flinch. She softens after a moment, pausing in thought.
"Failure."
Tom nods, "Yeah, I thought you'd say something like that. Is there anything more…physical? Tangible?" Tom's blue eyes sparkle teasingly at her, watching her squirm.
Kathryn gives him a parody of the Death Glare and rolls her eyes. She isn't going to get out of this with her dignity intact. In an embarrassed voice, she addresses the ceiling.
"Woodpeckers. They scare the hell out of me." She looks back at Tom with a guilty smile. "Two of them got into the house when I was a kid! It took over an hour for my parents to chase them out! Flapping all over the place, tapping their little beaks everywhere…" she shudders at the memory, eliciting a laugh from Tom. "We lived in the country."
"At the mercy of all those wild beasts, sounds harrowing. Good practice for your future out here with the Borg."
They share a laugh over this, and for the moment both are feeling comfortable together.
By 0130 the game is over and they are heading back to bed. Tom lies down next to his bride and stares at her openly, wondering how long she has been attracted to him like this. Why she never said anything before…well, Tom supposes, that one can slide. It's not exactly appropriate for a captain to be eyeing up her officers. All it took was a slight shift in the situation to let her out of her shell.
Her eyes drift close contently, reaching out her hand towards her new husband. "Thanks for tonight, I had a great time. I missed this so much. Being able to let my guard down for once and not worry."
Tom takes her hand, gives it a squeeze, hoping that this was the right thing to do for her. Figuring that they just need time to get to know each other, to grow comfortable with each other, and everything will somehow fall into place, Tom falls asleep without responding. Just as he drifts off, he feels her squeeze his hand.
At 0700, the alarm sounds, summoning Captain Janeway from her reposeful sleep with an irritated groan. Shutting it off, she rolls over—right into Tom! After remembering why he's there, she smiles at him sleepily, then starts suddenly back, self-conscious of her bedraggled state. On the Bridge, she's always careful to be well-groomed at all times, the thought of someone seeing her before her daily preening rituals is disconcerting to say the least.
Tom squints at her confusedly, not seeing what is distressing her so much. It's when she starts running her hands nervously over her hair, he realizes what must be the problem.
"You can be first in the bathroom, I'm not on duty for another hour anyway," he yawns rolling back over. "I don't take too long making myself pretty," he adds.
Kathryn goes into the bathroom and immediately ponders: sonic shower or a bath? With half a glance back into the bedroom, she brushes the idea aside. "Save the bath for later," she mutters to herself, letting the sonic waves pulse her body clean. After she steps back out, she's surprised to see Tom in the doorway! Years of living alone have made her forget about little things like closing the bathroom door all the way. Self-consciously, she brings her arms up around her shoulders with a startled gasp. Tom jumps back as if he's been stung, whipping around so fast it's a miracle he doesn't trip.
"Sorry, sorry! I just-"
By now, she's slipped into her bathrobe and coaxes him in.
"Tom! It's all right. You won't turn to stone or anything." She goes back to putting on makeup unconcernedly. "You'll have plenty of time to look later."
Tom chuckles dryly, still uncomfortable with how…comfortable she's gotten around him. In a few minutes she's out, leaving him to get ready.
Captain Janeway makes a quick detour through the mess hall on her way to the bridge, and is met with a smattering of well-wishers and remarks from the peanut gallery. Neelix immediately descends upon her, thrusting his exuberance on her whether she's ready or not.
"Now don't tell me that the new bride has to work the day after the wedding?" he inquires, little knowing he's pushing his limits before she's had her coffee.
Biting her tongue to keep herself from saying what she's really thinking, she smiles indulgingly, "No time for a break here. The best we can hope for is a few days in peaceful space." As she's speaking, she makes a beeline for the nearest coffee carafe and gets her first dose of the day. After a few sips, she can even put up with the over-excited kitchen rat at this hour of the morning.
Sensing that the danger is passed, Neelix goes on, "So, how's married life?"
"A lot like single life, actually. Lieutenant Paris and I didn't exactly plan on this. It'll take some time to really get used to," is her diplomatic response. It really wouldn't do to involve him in their newly-formed romantic entanglements this early on. It's not like she's a lower-rank who can afford to gossip about such matters. Just as she's about to escape, her comm line bleeps on—
"Doctor to Captain Janeway!"
Heaving a sigh, she taps her badge on, "Janeway here"
"Don't forget, today's your scheduled physical. If you come quietly, I'll try to get it over with as quickly as possible. I'd just rather not get security involved."
"Very funny, Doctor. I'll be right there."
He obviously hadn't expected her to come without a fight, her un-coerced compliance takes him completely by surprise. "Very well, we'll begin immediately."
Moments later, the doors of Sickbay loom before her. Reminding herself that she'd rather suffer through one of the Doctor's physicals than put up with her first officer's potentially snide remarks, Janeway enters Sickbay without fuss.
The Doctor jumps in immediately, as though he expects the captain to change her mind at the last minute and bolt.
"So, are all the rumors true?" the EMH asks, more in the style of a hairdresser than a physician.
Janeway sighs, realizing that she's going to have to put up with these inquiries until everyone gets used to the idea. "Yes, Doctor, you know full well. Tom and I are…" she stops short, catching how familiarly she's referred to him.
It doesn't escape the Doctor's notice, either. "Things are going well, I take it?"
"About as well as they can be. It's not like either of us had planned on this. Still…" she can't help but smile as she thinks about her new husband, "It could be nice…potentially."
"Potentially? So, Mr. Paris isn't on the same page yet?"
"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm his captain. I'm sure we'll get used to each other at our own pace, but I realize it's a bit too much to hope that he drops formalities that quickly. I can't expect it to happen overnight."
The Doctor raises his eyes from the tricorder's readouts with a smirk, "Speaking of night…"
Janeway flushes, her eyes wide with her coming wrath, "Doctor!"
He brushes her warning aside, "I was going to say, it looks like you had a good night's sleep. Your melatonin and serotonin levels are optimal this morning. Although, as a doctor I can profess to the medical benefits of…other nightly activities, which, in time, I'm sure you'll be able to…enjoy once again." Janeway groans, a hand over her face, contemplating how to deactivate him before he can stop her. "In addition to the many psychological benefits, it improves circulation, releases endorphins, improves the quality of sleep…"
Sliding her hand down from her face, Janeway gives him a condensed Death Glare, "Doctor…" she warns.
"Honestly, Captain, I'm surprised at you. A broad-minded 24th century woman like you getting embarrassed about a perfectly natural fact of life."
"Just get on with the exam."
He hums to himself as he passes the medical tricorder around her body, irritating the hell out of her with his elusive "Hmm…hmmm…now that's interesting."
"What's interesting, Doctor?"
He goes to the replicator, loads a hypospray, and presses it to Janeway's neck. "You have a mild virus that's coming out of dormancy; you could have picked it up last week during shore leave. Nothing to worry about, I've taken care of the worst of it. You may experience an irritation of the throat but it should go dormant in a few days."
She rubs the spot on her neck where he'd injected her, "Thank you, Doctor. Anything else?"
"Well, my usual set of 'doctor's orders' usually go unheeded, so I can only hope Lieutenant Paris can be a better influence on you in regards to how you treat yourself. Which reminds me: when you get to the Bridge, tell him that he's next."
"Thank you, Doctor, I will."
The turbolift doors slide open, Commander Chakotay stands. "Captain on the Bridge." Everyone else follows suit, sitting back down once she's seated.
"Report."
Gesturing to their consol, Chakotay reports, "Friendly space ahead. While you were in Sickbay we were hailed by a transport vessel who was interested in conducting a trade. We may all benefit from this opportunity. Seven of Nine is with him in the cargo bay as we speak."
"Excellent. Mr. Paris, the Doctor will see you now."
Spinning around in his seat, he looks at her questioningly. "Captain?"
"He told me to pass the word along."
After he's gone, Chakotay leans in. "So how's Mrs. Paris?"
"The Doctor said I had a minor-sounding virus. Shouldn't last longer than a couple of days."
"That's not what I meant."
The look she gives him says she already knew that.
