Chapter 7
A shriek of laughter from the next room made Kathryn smile. Miral was having a whale of a time with her dad as he whirled her around Gretchen Janeway's kitchen.
Turning away from the vid screen, Kathryn called out to Tom that she'd only be another couple of minutes and then she'd warm up lunch.
The man on the screen laughed in response to her comment: "Have you warned him that it was you who cooked the soup in the first place, Kathryn?"
The jibe elicited a most un-Admiral-like giggle from Kathryn who whispered into the device: "No, shhhhh! Chakotay he won't touch it if he thinks I was responsible for its origins and I haven't had time to fix Mom's replicator."
Softening her smile a little she went on: "Are you heading down here after work?"
"I should be. I've got a class at 18:00 but it's only a 30-minute tutorial, so I should be with you all about 20:00. Is that too late for dinner?"
"No, I'll make sure to let B'Elanna know she needs to call the restaurant to amend the booking. I think it's just the four of us after all. Harry's off-world unexpectedly and Tuvok's transport was delayed."
It was the last day of Kathryn's holiday. She felt human again. The exhaustion had left her features and she'd suddenly started to make plans again. That was something she'd stopped doing, she'd just been stumbling from day to day, from work to home, to work again.
She could hear someone calling Chakotay in the background.
"I'd better go," he said, looking over his shoulder. "Give Miral a kiss for me, and I'll see you all tonight."
The screen went blank before she could say anything back, but Kathryn stared blankly at it for some moments after he shut off the communication as she struggled to bring her thoughts back to neutral ground.
Chakotay was her best friend. Nothing more.
She had to stop these ridiculous thoughts keep coming into her head. It had been a week since their dinner together at his house and ever since then she'd been alarming herself with stray thoughts of him touching her hands, staring into her eyes.
It had to stop. He was her friend. Nothing more.
She still hadn't broached the topic her counsellor had advised her to discuss with him. But she rationalised that the dinner hadn't been the time or place. He'd been dying to tell her about his work and she didn't want to stop him from doing that when it seemed to bring him such joy, especially as it had been rare to see him so animated and happy since Seven's death.
And they'd not seen each other face-to-face this week and it wasn't a conversation to have over a comm channel.
The dinner had been wonderful, just like they'd turned back time to three years earlier sat in her quarters on Voyager. The conversation had been light and easy and they had been completely comfortable in each other's company. And their daily comm conversations since then had been much more relaxed. She was thrilled to finally feel like she was getting her friend back. She didn't want to jinx it. Yes, it was odd he'd contacted her every day of her leave, but she told herself that was just because he was wanting to get her opinion on his research proposal….
"Kathryn," Tom's voice call from the kitchen, "do you want a cup of coffee?"
Smiling, she stood up and called back, "yes please," and went to play with little Miral, enjoying the final few hours of her leave before yet another big weekend of charity-related events her mother had lined up for the former Voyager crew members.
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As she finished the last mouthful of her desert, Kathryn stole a look at her former first officer. Relaxed, laughing and attentive, he was relaying a story about his latest class at the academy, regaling Tom and B'Elanna with a passion and energy she'd genuinely thought a few months earlier she might never see again.
Then he caught her looking, and paused, causing Tom to turn his head toward her. How embarrassing.
Tom's look was one of curiosity. Kathryn just hoped he wasn't able to see an answer to whatever he was looking for in her face.
She was going to have to tackle the "Issue", as she'd taken to thinking of it, this evening. She couldn't keep hiding away from this. People were going to start being able to read her like a book if it continued.
When had she suddenly struggled to maintain a cool façade, keeping her thoughts to herself? She'd always been so good at that. Seven years in the Delta Quadrant and she'd perfected it. Another year as an admiral on top of that should have made her a master.
Luckily Chakotay had managed to get his flow back and Tom had been distracted, turning back to enjoy the last of the story.
It had been a wonderful evening of easy chatter and memory-sharing. If she hadn't known better, Kathryn would have thought she was on a double-date.
The thought made her uneasy and feel more than a bit guilty. He was Seven's husband.
Tomorrow would be another day, though, she knew and she was slightly dreading it. There would be nothing easy about it. Another of her mother's charity events and another brush with the press and the great and good of Starfleet brass and associated hangers on. Always on display, inevitably with another of her sister's outfit "creations" she'd be expected to wear.
She was actually starting to miss the restrictive and dorky-looking Starfleet dress uniform, which her mother insisted wasn't suitable for these events.
This time it was to be a museum donation and associated dinner-dance. Did the woman ever sleep? And where did she find all the people willing to part with credits? Surely that little black book of hers was depleted by now.
"Kathryn, would you like coffee," B'Elanna's voice interrupted her thought process.
"Oh, yes, please," Kathryn smiled at the younger woman, trying to persuade herself she'd hidden her distraction.
Placing the order with their waitress, B'Elanna went on: "So, tomorrow's event, I was thinking, perhaps you'd like Tom to do the dedication, Kathryn?"
Such an unexpected offer. "That would be wonderful," Kathryn turned to Tom with a beaming grin. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd love to not be in the spotlight. And I'm sure my mother would be delighted to get her hands on another victim."
"I don't mind at all," Tom said lightly, "I love being at the mercy of an admiral's wife. Makes absolutely no change from my childhood."
His joke elicited a laugh from all three of his companions and Kathryn thought fondly to herself of the transformation young Tom Paris had undergone. The passing thought reminded her of something: "Tom, did you hear from one of our young former cadets at all this week?"
She didn't know why it hadn't occurred to her to ask him before, after all, she'd spent three days with the Paris family at her mother's house in Indiana. It hadn't been her idea, they'd been house-sitting for Gretchen and she'd decided to take advantage of their presence there so she could spend time with Miral.
"I did. He's an intriguing young guy, huh?"
Kathryn knew exactly what Tom meant. Challenging, bright but somehow flawed despite all his promise.
"Yes, he certainly is. He reminded me of someone…" Kathryn goaded, hoping Tom would see why she'd asked him to talk to Cadet Nuctern.
Tom took the bait. "Me too," he said. "I think our chat helped him. I sure hope it did, anyway. He's asked if he can meet with me when I return to work next week and I agreed. I reckon I might be able to offer him some hints on where to go next so he doesn't end up as lost as I did."
Looking sheepish and sad, he went on: "It's actually great to be able to help someone out and know all that time I wasted wasn't a complete disaster".
B'Elanna didn't miss a beat: "Tom, what happened, that made you the man I love. It made you the incredible officer and father you are. Don't ever wish that time away."
"I couldn't agree more, and I don't even like you," Chakotay joked. The gentle infusion of humour worked a charm. "Right, on to more important things," he continued, keeping the tone on the right track, "what are the bets Phoebe puts Kathryn in heels again tomorrow?"
Kathryn stuck her tongue out at him. He knew just how to wind her up.
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The moon was high in the sky, casting a gentle light on the green field behind Kathryn's childhood home. She'd always loved sitting under this tree and tonight's reflections were made even more pleasant because her best friend was sat beside her.
A rug wrapped around each of their shoulders, cups of tea in their hands, they'd been talking about nothing for well over an hour by the time Kathryn finally plucked up the courage to bring up the topic she actually needed to discuss with him.
"Chakotay," she started, staring straight ahead at the moon, but feeling his eyes on her profile. "I've been told I need to talk to you."
He looked intrigued and then laughed at her slightly stricken face: "We've been talking for hours, Kathryn!"
She blushed: "I know, but not that kind of talking," she said, not sure how to bring up the topic. She must have paused for a fraction too long as Chakotay suddenly looked worried and grabbed the hand that didn't have her mug of tea in it.
"Are you okay," he asked, his eyes wide and worried.
"Yes," she immediately reassured him, then rethinking her answer, "well, no, well sort of".
Oh dear, this wasn't going very well.
"I'm physically well, but I've been finding things a bit tough mentally for the past few weeks."
Chakotay sighed and let go of her hands, instead brushing his fingers through his own hair, looking up toward the sky. "That doesn't come as much of a surprise," he said. "I was wondering when you might actually talk to me about whatever it is that's bothering you."
He sounded hurt as he said it. "You've been acting quite oddly, Kathryn."
He'd noticed. Bugger. She'd so hoped he wouldn't. She'd been desperately trying to hide everything. And mostly for his sake. Or was it?
She was quiet for a minute trying to figure out quite how to explain herself.
"Okay, I think I just need to say this," she suddenly blurted. "I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear right now and I know how bad the timing is. I should have said it years ago."
That had definitely caught his attention. He was staring at her, and as she went to continue he put his fingers to her lips: "Stop, Kathryn. I don't know what you're about to say, but I think you might be right that I don't want to hear it. I can't hear you say what I think you are going to say. Not after all this time, after all I've been through. I can't lose another woman I love."
Her devastation at the idea he wouldn't even let her tell him she loved him was stopped in its tracks. What had he just said?
