Janeway settled into her chair, fragrant swirls misting up from her coffee cup to moisten her lips. She allowed the caress to loosen them from their grim line, felt the knot in her brow unravel. She could stand for one of the Doctor's massages right about now… though goodness knows she'd never set foot in Sickbay to ask him. He'd been badgering her about her latest physical for the past three weeks…
—What am I doing?
The mug in her hands suddenly burned too hot, and she clanked it onto her desk. She'd just thrown one of her senior officers in the brig—demoted him to ensign, no less—and she was sitting here thinking of massages and physicals?
—You're a fool, Kathryn. A fool.
But she'd done what needed doing. And she didn't regret it.
Yet.