I returned to my duties as a Starfleet captain and it was almost two months before I found myself back on Earth again. Although I'd had many cares and responsibilities over that time I did not forget Paris or my promise to find Torres. I tried every avenue I could think of. Yet it was only after I had given up, when I was visiting a deep space transport station on a far-flung planet, a diplomacy mission, that out of pure coincidence, our paths crossed. We could easily have passed each other by, unawares, had circumstances been slightly different. But the stars aligned. And I found Torres.

Now here I was, back on Earth, not three blocks from the Paris's apartment, and I had not contacted Tom Paris. Which is not to say I hadn't thought about him. But maybe Torres was right: It was none of my business and not my place to interfere. And technically I had only promised Paris I would find Torres, not to report back, although I had no doubt he would be eager to know how his estranged wife and daughter were doing. I had given Torres Tom Paris's details, but I doubted very much that she had called him. How could I visit Paris, only to have him find out that I had found Torres, but that she wanted nothing to do with him? Besides I had been busy with one meeting after another ever since I'd set foot back on Earth. I simply hadn't had time to think this through.

At last I had an afternoon break. I'd been indoors for so long, I decided to take a stroll down the street to get a coffee. I stopped outside a quaint little café. After ordering a coffee inside, I went to sit out front on the street and enjoy the weather. I was looking for an empty table when I was startled by a young woman in a summer dress, sitting, hands clasped, almost motionless at one of the small tables out the front. I had almost mistaken her for a statue. She acknowledged my glance with a raised eyebrow.

"Hello Samara," I greeted her. "Fancy meeting you here. I like your dress, by the way. Red suits you."

"Thank you Captain. So I have been told." She flashed me one of her brilliant trained smiles. A smile like that could melt a boy's heart. I wondered if she realised it.

"How's your research going?" I asked. This was awkward. It was stupid, but I was worried she might mention to Paris that she'd seen me. "Are you still working on Turellian fever with the EMH Doctor?"

"I am. We have made some progress."

I hesitated before asking, "And how is Tom Paris?"

"He is no longer involved in our medical trials," she informed me. I was safe. Yet I was disappointed. I had been hoping to get a little more information.

"Captain Chakotay, would you perhaps care to join me…"

Before Sam could finish her invitation, another familiar figure, a tall young man with dark blonde curls arrived at the table, and set down the two large sundaes he was carrying. "Okay, here we are. Double choc sundae for me, and here's your vanilla sundae with coconut topping."

"What was the price? I shall pay for my order."

"No, no, Sam. That's not how it works. It's on me." He grinned suggestively.

"Are you sure Greg?" Sam sounded dubious.

"Absolutely." He was about to sit down next to Sam, when he noticed me. "Captain Chakotay! I'm sorry Sir, I didn't see you." He seemed a little on edge, which was not characteristic, judging from our previous meeting.

"At ease, Greg" I chuckled.

"Would you care to join us?" he offered suddenly.

I looked at the two cadets. They certainly made a cute, if unorthodox, couple. "That's alright. I don't want to intrude. I'll be on my way. It was nice to run into both of you."

"Wait, Captain! You're not intruding. This isn't what it looks like. Sam and I are not…" Was the cadet blushing? It was hard to tell under his tan. "We're not dating, if that's what you think. Tell him, Sam."

"We are not," The young Vulcan confirmed. In contrast to his agitation she was a picture of calm. "Knowing my interest in human behaviour, Greg simply offered to educate me on human courtship rituals. It is always more informative to show, rather than tell, is it not?"

"A satisfactory explanation." I smiled.

"Excellent. I'm glad we understand each other," Greg smiled back broadly, his eyes twinkling. "So Captain, you'll take a seat?"

"I'd like that." I pulled up another chair and sat down. "How are your studies?" I asked as my coffee arrived.

"Pretty good," Greg responded beginning on his sundae. Samara followed his lead, obviously having never eaten a sundae before. "Better than last time we met." Then he changed the topic. "You know I spoke to the faculty. I suggested they seek out Tom's expertise in the new course design. They offered him a contract as a consultant!" Greg sounded proud of his initiative.

I was impressed. "And?"

"Tom took the position. He's been working a lot."

"That's good news." I was pleased.

"However," Sam interjected. "He did not show for his last check-up."

"How often do you see him?" I quizzed them.

"Usually once a week, for my lesson." Greg said. "He has an appointment at Sam's med lab every week or so. You?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"When did you see him last?"

"I've been in deep space." I felt almost apologetic. "Last time I saw him was the day I met you two."

"Oh, I see," Greg savoured his sundae thoughtfully. I wondered what he thought he saw.

"How is he?" I wanted to know. "Is he okay?"

"He's Tom Paris," Greg laughed shaking his head, "Of course he's okay, right?" I understood what Greg meant. If asked Tom would rarely admit anything else.

"Speaking medically," Sam told me, "the TF virus went into remission after the last drug trial in which he was involved. While this is not a cure - the virus is still in his system, but appears to be inactive at present – it is a significant improvement."

"Is he still staying at his parents'?" I asked, in case either of the cadets knew.

"I'm not sure." Greg shrugged.

"His address on file has changed," Samara informed me. "But I am not at liberty to divulge such information."

Greg leaned over the table toward me. "Captain, maybe you should give him a call," he advised.

"I will." I suddenly realised how keen I was to catch up with Paris. I still did not know what I would say on the topic of B'Elanna Torres, but it was cowardly of me to avoid the situation because of it.

I planned to call Paris as soon as my meetings were over. By the time I finished up at Headquarters and got back to my hotel room, it was almost 22 hundred hours. I was leaving Earth the next morning and I had to pack. I was clearing out my room when the door chimed.