AN: Apologies again for the fact the last chapter kept disappearing for the first couple of days. It's been back for a while now, so I presume that glitch is over. Very big thank you to Photogirl1890 for her time in reading this.

This chapter is dedicated to Argyle Trekkie :)

Chapter ten

Captain's Quarters: Voyager

I must have read this same line five times now and I still can't remember the names of the Joseffan representatives. And I'm good with names.

I sit back in the chair and inhale deeply, to try to force out the frustration constantly pricking at the edge of my consciousness. Pressing the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, I massage my scalp with my fingertips, releasing sparks of electricity each time they compress a nerve end. As I drain the last of my tea, I admit defeat. I give up trying to stop my mind from wandering away from tomorrow's meetings.

I wonder where Kathryn is right now. I almost ask the computer, but stop short. I hope she'll call by before she turns in. She's been elusive since we left Earth. After I got the news about Maiara and Roberto's son, she pulled back from me again. Hardly surprising. I don't imagine I was making much sense after that. I can barely remember anything I said to her. I imagine some of the possible consequences of my sudden new responsibility scare the hell out of her.

She'd already made it clear she still needed time. But I realised a while ago that whenever she takes time alone to think about anything to do with our personal lives, it still makes me nervous. A throw back to the years of advance and retreat on Voyager the first time around, I guess. I'm hoping that 'time to think' isn't going to mean that she decides whether we have a future without involving me in the discussion. She may have hauled me over the coals for leaving her out of things recently, but, mixed metaphors notwithstanding, the woman is a law unto herself when it comes to making up the rules as she goes along. Not that I'll be pointing that out right now. I've never known anyone who can turn me upside down and make me forget where my head should be the way she can. And I wouldn't give it up for anything.

I'll be damned if I'm just going to sit back and wait though. That's why I told her the other night how much I've missed her. I didn't live all that time without her, have her return to me against all the odds – not to mention the laws of nature – only to have her call things off at the first sizeable hurdle.

If either of us had been forced out of Starfleet because of our involvement in the Marsadan affair, it would have been a different matter. Then, the wall she'd have put up might have been too tall even for me to scale. But now? I could already see over this one – before I got distracted by recent events, that is.

Even though Akaar left Kathryn's accommodation arrangements for this mission to her discretion, she chose to keep us apart. I knew she'd insist the Paris-Torres family have the VIP suite again, so I was obviously hoping to have her in here with me. But she took the refurbished first officer's quarters. It was a disappointment, but it wasn't exactly a surprise.

When we've been together, we've spoken about work, but little else. There was a lot to cover. Neither of us is as prepared as we would have been if our personal lives hadn't been so eventful recently. Since we left Spacedock, I've been trying as hard as I can not to let my own personal issues distract me from ship's priorities while I'm on duty. It hasn't been easy. It's amazing I've managed to read any of this really, since my mind keeps wandering back to Maiara and Roberto's eight-year-old son. I'm itching to get down to Bajor – I wish I could have gone tonight. I need to find whoever knows Gabriel best. I need advice as fast as possible about where and with whom he'd be happiest for the immediate future. All I know is that he's staying with his teacher. I don't know if the boy even likes his teacher.

I don't know much about him at all – Gabriel Eduardo Cortez, aged eight. His middle name chosen to honour his grandfather. Small, quiet boy, with his mother's smile and eyes that followed me around the room. Although I didn't see many smiles from him. He was pretty shy at five – the kid spent most of the time behind his grandfather's legs. I gave him a tiny replica of Voyager. Just a little bigger than the one Joe Carey almost finished making for his boys. Eduardo's house was small and comfortable and he seemed to have made a good life there from the little I saw. I only stayed an hour or so. It was a busy time for me, so I'm struggling to recall much more.

I doubt anyone is going to advise me that it would be in the child's best interest to pluck him out of the environment he knows and have him fly off on a starship with a distant relative he doesn't remember. With a man who isn't even sure if he has a permanent address right now. But not knowing any of the details of his life means that, whenever I try to think about it, my mind's doomed to revisit the same barren landscape of circular thoughts as it thirsts for more information. It's driving me crazy. I keep wondering what the boy thinks will happen to him now. Then something someone once said about Bajoran orphanages keeps coming back around to taunt me. I need to get down there to banish any fears like that he may have as soon as possible.

"Still hard at it?"

I look up and turn my head towards her voice, just as I feel her hands come to rest on my shoulders.

"You didn't hear me come in."

Her familiar husk is a sweet sound to me right now. My body has been starved of contact with hers so much that I realise too late that I'm leaning back into her casual touch like a hungry cat.

"No." I offer her a smile. "But I can't say that's much of a surprise. Even though Voyager arrived at DS9 over two hours ago, I haven't gotten over the feeling that my head is still somewhere just outside San Francisco."

She gives me the lopsided smile I haven't seen much of recently. "You're not the only one. Did your meditation last night help?"

"A little," I lie. "Although knowing this mission shouldn't be too demanding is what's helping most."

"You're not still worried it'll be too light on activity for the crew then?"

"Right now I'm not sure this ship's captain could cope with much more. I'm hoping the crew will decide to make the most of the lull. Maybe some of them will be happy just to have some predictable routines to follow for a change."

"I'm sure they will." She gives my shoulders a light squeeze before her hands drop away. "A little uneventful diplomacy sounds perfect to me too."

"Are you up to speed on our new friends yet?" I ask her, swivelling the chair round to face her in the room.

"Of course. It wouldn't do for the admiral on board to know less than the captain. You?"

"I've gone over the briefings again. I'd already read up on the two species who aren't really first contact – given they've actually been known to the Federation for several months already. But I still need to read the notes on the Joseffans again – what little there is."

"You weren't kidding when you said there isn't that much to read!" she marvels.

"No. They could have put it all into one sentence really. It seems all we know about them is that they are humanoid, they're a peaceful people with a rich culture, a ten-year life span, and significant telepathic abilities."

Kathryn wags a finger at me. "Made me realise why they wanted us for this mission though."

"Yes. I wonder if they'll resemble the Ocampans physically too."

"We might meet a Kes look-a-like." She smiles slightly, a hint of playfulness in her expression and her voice.

"We might." I return the smile and match her tone. "Although, I guess it's just as likely they'll look like the Kazon."

"True." She surprises me by moving to stand beside my chair and weaving the fingers of one hand into my hair, setting the nerves in my scalp alight again, even though she isn't applying any pressure. "Do you remember their hair?"

My eyes find hers. "How could I forget?"

"I never did figure out if they glued all those things into it because it was a convenient place to store things, you know? Like a few nice seashells and couple of spare dusters – or if it grew that way all on it's own."

As I chuckle, I can feel my face cracking into a grin. "My money's on the storage-space theory. They were a nomadic people, after all."

I'm so grateful that we're back to a place where we can joke with one another again. I don't think I've laughed once in the past forty-eight hours.

"Tea?" She punctuates her question by patting my shoulder again before she turns to head for the replicator.

"Please."

I watch her as she rocks back a little on her heels, poised before the hatch. It's a welcome development that she seems more relaxed around me. I'm glad she's making herself at home in here again. Guess she really needed that time on her own. The familiar pressure of her hands a moment ago was welcome too. She's used touch to keep me where she wants me and to reassure me for years. I guess this is no different.

I wish I felt reassured enough to be able to point out the irony of her pulling away when I tried to get her to stay and talk the other night though. She was so mad at me for leaving her out of the loop the last time. But I think I'll save that observation for easier times. Even though things are less tense, I still feel like I'm on probation around her right now.

I turn back to the workstation and close the files I was working on while she carries our drinks to the coffee table.

"Have you thought any more about Akaar's proposal?" I ask as I settle next to her on the sofa. Maybe she's come to a decision and that's the reason she's feeling better.

"I have." She twines her fingers together where they rest in her lap. "I'm going to say yes. I think I'd like very much to play a small part in moulding some of the Starfleet Officers of the future."

"That's good news, Kathryn." I reach for her hand reflexively. "I'm glad."

"Do you think I'd be any good at it?"

"Any good? I think you'd excel at a job like that. You already have all the skills you'd need to nurture those idealistic young cadets and their fragile egos. A few weeks into the first semester and Admiral Janeway will be everyone's favourite tutor."

She shoots me a sideways glance. "Flatterer."

"No." I shake my head. "I just know most of the competition."

"Hmm."

"Would you have to give up on the other project you were going after?"

"I don't think so. I think I could do both." Her hand slips away from mine and she gestures in front of her with her forefinger. "The work at the Academy is just a little part-time teaching on the First Contact course and on Delta Quadrant studies, with a few lectures at Command School on fostering crew cohesion on deep space assignments. I think I have something to say on all of those topics."

"You have plenty to say."

She quirks a brow, one side of her mouth tugging upwards.

"So you could still take on Picard's proposal?"

"I like to think I'd manage both. I'd be loath to miss out on the chance of developing Jean Luc's idea."

I sit back a little further and stretch my legs out, crossing them at the ankles. It feels good to stretch – I've been sitting down for too long this evening. "I can't see how they can refuse you. I mean, there can't be anyone better qualified than you and Picard to produce the Starfleet officer's guide to the Q."

She smiles again, then presses her hand to my thigh. "Have you gotten any further in your thinking? About how you're going to handle things on Bajor tomorrow?" she asks carefully.

"Not really. Although I had a message from Sveta. She got there yesterday. She said she's worried Gabriel is sick."

"That's troubling." She tilts her face towards me, concerned. "And it isn't just a reaction to the loss?"

"Sveta doesn't think so. I asked Jarem and he's agreed to come down with me tomorrow. I also spoke to Hugh."

"Any use?"

I know that tone. My ship's counsellor is a taste she's yet to acquire.

"He made a lot of the same points that you and I had already touched on. Keep the child in familiar surroundings in the short term, identify key adults in his life that he trusts – all those sorts of things."

She nods. "Sounds sensible."

"I sent a message back to Sveta to ask if she could stay with him at least until the end of our mission. She said yes. The teacher offered for her to stay there. We're in luck that the teacher has room."

"Very much, on a teacher's salary. Unless of course the Bajorans reward educators better than other cultures."

"Not as far as I know. And Hugh's going to arrange for a Bajoran counsellor he knows who works on the station to go down and spend the next two weeks assessing how Gabriel's doing. He'll report back to me after this mission."

Kathryn nods her approval again. "Sounds like you've done as much as you can from here."

"Hugh offered to go down and talk to the child himself, but I'm holding off on that for now."

The look she gives me then is more than enough to let me know what she thinks of that idea. I search her face for a moment before I ask my next question, trying to gauge whether I'll get the answer I want. Her eyes are clear and her expression open and expectant.

"Will you come down with me tomorrow? I've arranged to leave first thing, so we'll be back in good time for the first meeting."

She holds my gaze but I don't miss the flicker of hesitation that darkens the blue of her eyes for a split second. She reaches for my hand and clasps it. "Of course."

I watch her read the relief I fail to keep out of my eyes. Turning my hand over, I slide my fingers around the side of her hand so our palms press together.

"Thanks," I tell her quietly. "That means a lot."

At least I hope it does.

[TBC]