a/n: Many thanks to mylittleredgirl for being an excellent beta, as always.
Come home, come home
'Cause I've been waiting for you
For so long, for so long
And right now, there's a war between the vanities
But all I see is you and me
And the fight for you is all I've ever known
So come home
"Home," OneRepublic
It's just after five on a Tuesday afternoon, the sun starting to dip towards the trees, when Kathryn walks up the drive to the house. Her boots squish in the mud; it must have rained recently.
Henry runs up to greet her, tail wagging wildly, as if she'd been gone for months, rather than a week. Kathryn scratches his head. "I'm sure you've stayed out of trouble, haven't you?"
The big shaggy golden retriever licks her hands, nosing at her neck, before he catches sight of a squirrel and bolts towards the trees. All is quiet on their land, wind blowing the trees, birds wheeling overhead. She catches a glimpse of the half-finished back deck. The rest of the house is finished; Chakotay's been working on the deck, and has plans for a gazebo further back near the little pond, but the bulk of the house is done, including the interior. He showed her the blueprints the day after they got engaged.
He usually puts in long afternoons when the weather's good, but there's no movement, no sign of him working right now.
After a moment's hesitation, Kathryn opens the front door, toeing off her muddy boots before shutting the door behind her. "Chakotay?"
"Kathryn?" His voice drifts in from the living room, just out of view. "You're home? I thought the conference ended on Thursday."
"I left early."
He's sitting on the couch, facing the window, and as she walks through the hallway, he turns, but he doesn't stand to come greet her. Her heart sinks. "Chakotay—"
"I am glad you're home," he assures her, "but I can't really move right now."
"Is something wrong?" Antennae up now, Kathryn sets her bag down, crossing the room towards him. "Are you hurt?"
"No! No, I'm fine. I just—"
She leans over the back of the sofa, and her eyes widen. There's a cat in his lap.
It's a little calico, curled up in a perfect circle. Young, too, judging by how small it is.
"It rained pretty hard yesterday," Chakotay explains. "I found her hiding under the porch. She looked so pitiful, I couldn't just leave her there. I brought her in and gave her food."
"Do you think she's lost?"
"I don't know." He shrugs. "She doesn't have a collar or ID chip. I checked with some of the neighbors, but no one's heard anything about a lost cat."
"She looks okay. Not hurt, anyway."
He nods. "She seems fine, just hungry. I'm taking her to the vet tomorrow. He said he'd check in with a few shelters, see who has a place for her."
"Good." Their vet is wonderful. Henry's always happy to see him. "What do you call her?"
"I haven't named her. I figured her new home would want to." He looks down at the kitten, who yawns, baring her sharp teeth, before curling back up. "I'm not trying to adopt her. I wouldn't make that kind of decision without talking to you."
Her face gets hot, and she stands up straight, leaning away from him. "No, no, it's okay. I understand." Kathryn smiles softly. "She needed help."
As if she heard them, the kitten stretches, arching her back, and blinks up at Chakotay, mewing plaintively as she butts her head into his hand. "I think she's hungry," he explains, cradling her against his chest. "I set up a little corner for her in my study so she doesn't get lost. I'll go check her food and water."
"Right." Kathryn reaches for her bag. "I'm going to unpack."
A few minutes later, she's in their bedroom, sorting through the contents of her travel bag. She hears footsteps, and looks up to see Chakotay in the doorway. "Hi."
"Hey." She sets down her jacket. "How's our little guest?"
"She's fine." He leans on the doorframe, arms folded. "How was the conference?"
"Fine." She's running out of things to occupy her hands. This is strange. She doesn't usually feel so hesitant about confrontation, but she's been dreading this conversation since she left for the conference.
"But you left early."
"It was starting to drag, and the last few days weren't really relevant."
Chakotay nods slowly, his face calm. She picks up her uniform, intent on finishing her task, but the guilt wells up, and she stops.
"I thought a lot about what you said. And you were right." She sighs, sitting down on the side of the bed, her uniform on her lap.
He had a week scheduled with no classes, but she'd informed him that she was going to a conference. He'd asked if she could reschedule, or find a workaround, or send a subordinate; she'd snapped back that she wasn't at his beck and call, and she didn't appreciate him disrespecting her career.
"Kathryn?" His voice is quiet.
"I should have talked to you. I went right back to captain mode, and you were right to call me out on it. And I'm sorry I snapped." She takes a deep breath. "I was wrong."
She stares down at her neatly-folded jacket, her face hot. It's been two years since they got home. Even after all the adjustments, after confessing mutual love and building a life together, it was humbling to realize, in a couple's counseling session, that she is often the problem. Sometimes she loses all her good intentions, shuts down communication, and issues orders to a subordinate rather than talking to her fiancé. Captain mode is her own term for it; the counselor was hesitant to name it so bluntly. Sometimes she worries that she has lost the ability to deal with Chakotay as an equal, rather than a first officer. And he's patient, always has been, but he's also human, and he gets frustrated at being shut out.
Every time it happens, she feels the hot burn of shame. She got a starship across the galaxy, but she still can't be a good partner to the best man she's ever known. And yes, this argument was miniscule compared to what happened to them when they ran into the Equinox, but it scares her to think that she's still that same woman, filled with anger, inflexible, unyielding. That she grew so far into the darkest version of herself that she's lost her chance for a normal, happy life.
The bed dips as he sits beside her, his thigh brushing hers, and then she feels the warmth of his arm around her shoulders, the gentle kiss on her forehead.
"I'm not good at this," she confesses, her eyes burning with unshed tears. "I don't know how to undo it all. You're still getting the worst of me."
"Kathryn, stop that." He tugs her into his side, tucking her head under his chin. "I'm not angry, you know."
"It's not just this," she insists. "I know I'm not easy to live with."
"You're beating yourself up again." He turns her face gently so he can look her in the eye. "No one's ever as hard on you as you are on yourself."
"Chakotay—" She sighs, reaching for his hands. "I'm sorry. I really am trying."
"I know you are. And I hope you know, this isn't about control. I'd never want to take you away from something important. I was going to ask if you wanted to take a few days and go on vacation somewhere, since I didn't have classes this week." He presses a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. "I was disappointed because I was hoping we could spend time together, that's all. I just want us to be partners."
"I do, too." She shakes her head. "I'm sorry I keep turning into the captain."
"Kathryn, you were my captain, for seven years. And you were a commanding officer longer than that. I don't begrudge you your habits. That was our relationship, and now it's not, but it takes time to settle into the new reality. I know you're trying. So am I. And frankly, I think we're doing pretty damn well."
A few tears have escaped her eyes, and she swipes a hand at them before wrapping her arms around him. "You really are the best thing that ever happened to me, you know that?"
It was true on Voyager, and it's just as true now.
"I love you, and we're fine, and there's nowhere I'd rather be right now than here, with you." He squeezes her the way she loves, his arms around her tight. "Now, I was planning to make a nice dinner to welcome you home when you got back, but I thought that was going to be in two days, so I don't have anything fancy prepared. Sorry."
"Your definition of 'fancy' is more what I consider 'spectacular,' you know."
He laughs at that. "Well, I do have dough chilling. I was just going to make pizza tonight."
"Like you made last month?" Her mouth is already watering. "With the fennel and caramelized onions?"
"Absolutely." He kisses her briefly. "Why don't you relax for a while? Take a bath? It'll be an hour or so."
They eat their dinner at the picnic table next to their half-finished back porch, watching the sun set over the horizon. It's a cool, clear evening, breezy and soft. Chakotay has outdone himself on the pizza, and Kathryn pulls out a bottle of red wine Phoebe gave them as an engagement present.
They make quick work of clearing up their dishes as the darkness grows outside, and Chakotay puts away the remaining food as Kathryn wipes down the counters.
She's just finishing up when she feels Chakotay touch her arm. "Kathryn?"
"Hmm?"
"Look."
She turns, following his gaze to see Henry curled up contentedly on his dog bed beside the couch, blinking lazily, and the cat curled up on his side, kneading his stomach with her little paws.
She laughs softly. "Oh, how adorable."
"He already likes her." There's such fondness in his voice, such warmth.
"She knows he's a sweetheart." Kathryn looks around the home he designed for them. The sturdy shelves he carefully set into the wall to hold their mementos from the Delta Quadrant. The bright, airy, spacious kitchen, where he takes delight in preparing breakfast to bring her in bed. The window boxes he designed, built, and painted, just because he knows she loves flowers.
The little cat he found wet and hungry and took in to warm and feed, because his boundless heart and this beautiful home he built always have room for more love.
She wraps her arms around his waist, tucking herself against him. He goes with it, pulling her in close. "What's this for?"
"You are the kindest, sweetest, most compassionate man, and I love you for it." She kisses his cheek. "Why don't we keep her?"
His eyes brighten. "Really?"
"You're clearly already smitten."
He kisses the top of her head. "It's true. Another beautiful, stubborn, sweet lady has me wrapped around her little finger."
She swats him playfully on the shoulder. "Excuse me? 'Stubborn?'"
"Kathryn, have you met yourself?"
"Cheeky," she grumbles, leaning against his chest, letting him tug her closer. "You know, she needs a name."
"It's true."
"Do you already have one in mind?" He looks down at her in surprise, and Kathryn just chuckles. "Come on, Chakotay. Don't pretend you haven't been hoping to keep her."
"Am I really that easy to read?"
"Yes."
"Okay then." He shrugs. "What do you think about the name Maya?"
She pauses, resting her head against his chest as they watch the cat tucking herself into a perfect circle, right up against Henry. "Maya, huh? I like it. I think it suits her."
Oblivious to their commentary, Maya tucks her tail over her nose, all burrowed in Henry's soft fur while the big golden retriever snoozes contentedly.
After a long moment, Kathryn pats his stomach. "Upstairs?"
"What, not on the couch this time?" he teases, sliding one hand down to squeeze her ass. "Where's your sense of adventure?"
"It's on the bed that's far more comfortable." She reaches for the wine bottle. "Bring the glasses, will you?"
Chakotay grabs them off the counter and pauses steals a brief kiss. "Kathryn?"
"Yes?"
"I'm glad you're home."