Contact with Starfleet was becoming easier and easier. After the first batch of letters had arrived and been delivered, spirits were high and a method had been devised to recreate the array's projection so they could maintain communications as they continued their journey home. Estimations of time said that each transmission would reach Earth about three months after it was sent and that a reply would take approximately the same amount of time. This assumption meant that messages would be arriving from Earth about twice a year. The first one arrived unexpectedly a week early and was viewed by the Captain and Chakotay in her ready room before broadcasting it for the entire ship, just to see whether it was intended for command only or for the entire ship's population.
Admiral Paris, head of the Pathfinder mission sat behind his desk and was staring straight ahead into the eyes of the Voyager crew. Tom knew that the man was just focusing on the blinking light of a holo camera. He was under no illusions about the artifice that was Fleet Command and his own father. He was able to sit still in the mess hall for all of three minutes before the crap his dad was spouting about perseverance and the greatness of the Federation began to churn his stomach. The admiral knew he was addressing a crew that was about 40% ex-maquis right? Preaching the glory of an institution that they'd rebelled against could not have been a wise move. But looking around at the faces around him, all enraptured by the screen, Tom saw fleeters and maquis alike being touched by some emotion. Tom didn't get it, but he did see that people where lapping up his father's bullshit with fervor. Tom felt sorry for the pathetic people he called friends and crewmates and at the same time, felt horribly alone.
He headed back to his quarters. The corridors were empty, as everyone had found a common area with a viewscreen to watch the ship wide broadcast. It was the perfect time to find solitude, which was what Tom told himself he wanted. Taking an extended, wandering route back to this quarters, Tom thought about his father and their relationship. It was the usual tripe that Tom simply saw as a singular noun, instead of an avalanche of a lifetime's worth of expectations, feelings and actions. It was the past and it was just the way things were. He and his father did not see eye to eye on a lot of things, usually things that fell under the category of everything. Tom had let that fact influence almost every decision he'd ever made. For a long time he'd blamed his father's overbearingness for the reason Tom was in Starfleet. It was certainly the reason he'd joined the Maquis. It had taken a lot for Tom to realize and accept that Starfleet was more than just his father and that it truly was his place in the universe. It had taken a certain person to remind Tom that he had joined Fleet for his own good reasons and was back in uniform by his own will. It was at those times that Tom liked to remind her that she was the reason he was here and he loved the way she almost blushed shyly and looked up at him with a sweet smile. Thoughts of that smile that made him feel like a hero, tempted Tom to go find her and let down the burden of emotion he was carrying. She could do that to him. With no more than a smile or a hand on his cheek, she made him feel complete and untouchable by the unseen forces that haunted him. He considered asking the computer where she was, presumably the bridge or the observation lounge where she could share this glorious contact with the rest of the crew. He stopped himself and continued walking to his solitary quarters. This was an important moment and she was undoubtedly basking in the moment and the excitement of the crew. It was a validating day for her. Six years of holding the course home with only her determination to unite the crew on an impossible mission to get home and now a true sign of recognition for her and a little help from back home. She wasn't alone in her quest, not that she ever had been, but the unflagging support of Fleet Command must have made her walk a bit taller today. He couldn't ruin that for her by bringing in his cynicism. That was unfair of him. His relationship with his father colored this entire day for him and he couldn't identify in this with anyone who saw his father and saw a ray of hope.. It was his perceptions that were making him feel like shit and he would just have to deal with it on his own.
So, alone, he reached his quarters and went inside. They were dark, just like he'd left them. He stood in the doorway for a long minute to punish himself with the quite solitude. It was a familiar masochism that Tom reverted to whenever life seemed like an endless tunnel of crap. When it was still enough that his own voice sounded alien, Tom called to the computer for lights. To his surprise, she was there. She was sitting casually on his couch, legs folded, hair down and her cheek resting on her hand. She didn't look happy or proud. Instead she just looked..... tired. She looked like the day was just too much and she'd decided to escape the excited crew in favour of sitting in the darkness of his quarters. She was looking right at him and they both had the same look in their eyes. Tom sighed; He was glad she was here but neither of them was in a celebrating mood. Both of them were escaping it, although Tom wasn't sure why the heroine of the day seemed so upset. He walked away from the entrance to sit on the opposite end of the couch, throw his feet up between them and turn to face her. It was a cozy little scene. Tom pried off his boots with his toes and let them fall beside the couch. Kathryn turned towards him and lay her legs against his, one between his two in a platonic and intimate gesture. They sat like that in a comfortable silence for long, measured minutes. Eventually he spoke.
"Why aren't you out watching the message with everyone else?" What he really mean was why do you love enough to be here with me now, but he didn't say that. Her reply came quickly, and probably more curt than she'd intended.
"I'd already seen it" but then she replied more carefully, after a minute of thought. "and I've already heard it, too many times." She was silent after that, looking in Tom's eyes, almost pleading that he would understand without the need for explanations. He did. Tom nodded and cast down his eyes. He sighed.
"Yea." a long, somewhat comfortable and fitting pause followed before Tom spoke up again. "I just don't understand why everyone buys everything that man says. Not just here either, but I would at least think some of the maquis would show a bit of skepticism. Am I the only one in the universe who isn't suckered in him?" Tom's voice was harsh in his frustration. Not bothering to mention that she wasn't spellbound by the Admiral's speech, Kathryn sat up on the couch and crawled forward so she was sitting in front of Tom, between his legs and facing away from him. She leaned back, resting her head against his chest.
"They all want something to believe in Tom. I couldn't provide them with that forever or with enough conviction. It isn't so much the Admiral as it is the whole reputation of the the federation. Even the former Maquis recognize that and respect it to an extent. If an Admiral says we're getting you home, then come some hell or high water, we'll get home." A faint trace of bitterness had crept into her tone and Tom wrapped his arms around her waist in comfort. He spoke up again, every sentence that they uttered worked to slowly break the silent fog of depression around them.
"Yea, I don't know. Maybe the thing is that I'm not sure I'd want to go back. If a wormhole opened right now off the starboard and it was just me, I don't think I'd choose to go. I can't help thinking that there isn't much in the Alpha Quadrant to go back to." Tom mentally berated himself after he spoke. So much for not laying all his burdens on her. It sounded like a pathetic whine for attention and he regretted saying it already.
Kathryn snuggled in closer to his body and wrapped her arms around his. She couldn't see Tom's face, but wanted desperately to give a voice to the crazy thoughts soaring through her mind.
"I'm glad that we're this little step further to going home, but at the same time it really doesn't mean anything. I know, we both know that they can't do much for us in the Alpha quadrant besides make speeches to boost morale. And I'm happy for everyone, but at the same time.... it seems that all we've been through and it just deserves a pat on the back and a pretty speech about the Federation and its glory. Nothing here has been easy for any of us, and the brass back in San Francisco think its a credit to them. And despite what I know you're thinking, I don't think that so much of your father, just the bureaucracy in general." She didn't want to come out and say it, but Tom could tell from listening between the words that she felt alienated. She couldn't provide for her own crew and all her sacrifices seemed in vain as they all toasted those who had done nothing to help him. They both knew there was no ground to such thoughts. The crew's loyalty to her was beyond simple comprehension, but then, emotions hardly ever require justification. Everything she said, Tom understood all to well.
"Here is to us: the unloved and the unappreciated." Tom raised his hand in a mock toast.
Kathryn sat up and away from Tom's body. She turned around with an almost angry scowl on her face.
"unloved?"
Tom looked rather confused so Kathryn kept talking.
"What in the quadrant has given you the impression that you're unloved?" no mention of him calling her unappreciated, so Tom was pretty certain he'd hit it on the mark, but she continued talking. There wasn't a lot she could do about her own feelings so appeasing Tom's misgivings had just become her primary goal.
"Whether you know it or not, your father does love you. I obviously know that better than you do. Your mother loves you, your sisters love you and your nieces and nephews will be falling all over themselves to welcome the returning hero. I can say with complete conviction (funny she would use those words Tom thought) that you have nothing to worry about." Tom looked unconvinced and he voiced his concerns in a quiet murmur.
"What about you?" Kathryn studied him for the barest of seconds before moving. Not moving away, but moving closer, on her knees and straddling his pelvis.
"What about me. Well I'll be the glorious leader, having led everyone back. I'm expecting a parade actually. Maybe when we reply to the Admiral's message, I should ask him about that and have them start writing songs or something." Tom looked at up her, above him in a commanding position with hands on hips. She looked just like the statue he knew they'd build for her. The somber sharing mood having been broken, Tom sat up and leaned his body forward, taking her with him. As he pushed them past her centre of balance, he felt her cling to his shoulders. He stayed like that for a moment and then lowered them both down to the opposite sides of the couch. Kathryn's hands left their grip on his shoulders and instead her arms stretched out to pull him close to her. Tom looked down at her.
"That wasn't what I meant." said Tom, almost shyly. Kathryn looked up at him with bright eyes and smiled.
"I know, and believe me, that is the absolute last thing that you should question." And with that they both leaned towards each other, managing to get even closer. It was a moment that could have been perfected with a kiss, soon leading to more physical activities, but they both knew they needed to deal with what was left of their insecurities. Kathryn took the initiative.
"But Tom, believe me when I say that nothing is going to be able to tear us apart in the Alpha Quadrant. After the past few years, there is no way Starfleet is going to throw you back in prison. Even if one bullshit Admiral tries, I've promised to fight with you every step of the way." and she kissed him gently on the forehead in a solemn affirmation of her oath.
"And I know your father will do the same damn thing and pull every string he can reach to keep you out of prison, and to make sure you keep all those pips on your collar." Tom looked at her like she was insane. He didn't bother asking what made her think he wanted to stay in Starfleet. She knew he wanted to before he did. He belonged in the stars, and he belonged with Kathryn who was sure to be out there waiting for him. So in a perfect world, yes Tom thought, Starfleet was his home. But what under these very stars had convinced her that his father would support, let alone fight to have Tom officially reinstated. Tom would have thought the opposite.
But lying here on the couch, Tom was so touched by the powerful sincerity of Kathryn Janeway. He almost always was. Not that it was such a rare event, but that the force behind it was so incredibly strong. This was a woman who could make you believe. This was the woman who he loved. Tom shifted her weight gently and she responded, allowing his arms to circle under her back as he drew closer, without crushing her. He thought of what he should say, and nothing appropriate to the moment came to his mind except,
"Thank you".
Kathryn smiled, a bright beaming smile and Tom just couldn't understand it. Helping him made her happy and he simply couldn't comprehend why that was. He certainly didn't feel worthy. But he loved to see that smile on her face; it wasn't there enough and if saving him brought it out, so be it. Tom was sure that if it made her happy, he would remain in one form of trouble or another for the rest of his life. Tom smiled at the thought. Despite the logic, he knew they could provide each other with just the right amount of trouble for the rest of their lives. Despite logic was such an apt phrase for them. Tuvok, who for a Vulcan seemed rather able to cast off logic for the good of the ship and her captain, had been a rock of support for their relationship.
A relationship which in Tom's opinion, had received enough emotional attention today and was ready for some physical. The situation was difficult but they both knew, just knew that together they could work it out. It was rather naive of them, but there was really nothing else they could do. The moment was all that really mattered, and in that moment Tom kissed Kathryn.
Admiral Paris, head of the Pathfinder mission sat behind his desk and was staring straight ahead into the eyes of the Voyager crew. Tom knew that the man was just focusing on the blinking light of a holo camera. He was under no illusions about the artifice that was Fleet Command and his own father. He was able to sit still in the mess hall for all of three minutes before the crap his dad was spouting about perseverance and the greatness of the Federation began to churn his stomach. The admiral knew he was addressing a crew that was about 40% ex-maquis right? Preaching the glory of an institution that they'd rebelled against could not have been a wise move. But looking around at the faces around him, all enraptured by the screen, Tom saw fleeters and maquis alike being touched by some emotion. Tom didn't get it, but he did see that people where lapping up his father's bullshit with fervor. Tom felt sorry for the pathetic people he called friends and crewmates and at the same time, felt horribly alone.
He headed back to his quarters. The corridors were empty, as everyone had found a common area with a viewscreen to watch the ship wide broadcast. It was the perfect time to find solitude, which was what Tom told himself he wanted. Taking an extended, wandering route back to this quarters, Tom thought about his father and their relationship. It was the usual tripe that Tom simply saw as a singular noun, instead of an avalanche of a lifetime's worth of expectations, feelings and actions. It was the past and it was just the way things were. He and his father did not see eye to eye on a lot of things, usually things that fell under the category of everything. Tom had let that fact influence almost every decision he'd ever made. For a long time he'd blamed his father's overbearingness for the reason Tom was in Starfleet. It was certainly the reason he'd joined the Maquis. It had taken a lot for Tom to realize and accept that Starfleet was more than just his father and that it truly was his place in the universe. It had taken a certain person to remind Tom that he had joined Fleet for his own good reasons and was back in uniform by his own will. It was at those times that Tom liked to remind her that she was the reason he was here and he loved the way she almost blushed shyly and looked up at him with a sweet smile. Thoughts of that smile that made him feel like a hero, tempted Tom to go find her and let down the burden of emotion he was carrying. She could do that to him. With no more than a smile or a hand on his cheek, she made him feel complete and untouchable by the unseen forces that haunted him. He considered asking the computer where she was, presumably the bridge or the observation lounge where she could share this glorious contact with the rest of the crew. He stopped himself and continued walking to his solitary quarters. This was an important moment and she was undoubtedly basking in the moment and the excitement of the crew. It was a validating day for her. Six years of holding the course home with only her determination to unite the crew on an impossible mission to get home and now a true sign of recognition for her and a little help from back home. She wasn't alone in her quest, not that she ever had been, but the unflagging support of Fleet Command must have made her walk a bit taller today. He couldn't ruin that for her by bringing in his cynicism. That was unfair of him. His relationship with his father colored this entire day for him and he couldn't identify in this with anyone who saw his father and saw a ray of hope.. It was his perceptions that were making him feel like shit and he would just have to deal with it on his own.
So, alone, he reached his quarters and went inside. They were dark, just like he'd left them. He stood in the doorway for a long minute to punish himself with the quite solitude. It was a familiar masochism that Tom reverted to whenever life seemed like an endless tunnel of crap. When it was still enough that his own voice sounded alien, Tom called to the computer for lights. To his surprise, she was there. She was sitting casually on his couch, legs folded, hair down and her cheek resting on her hand. She didn't look happy or proud. Instead she just looked..... tired. She looked like the day was just too much and she'd decided to escape the excited crew in favour of sitting in the darkness of his quarters. She was looking right at him and they both had the same look in their eyes. Tom sighed; He was glad she was here but neither of them was in a celebrating mood. Both of them were escaping it, although Tom wasn't sure why the heroine of the day seemed so upset. He walked away from the entrance to sit on the opposite end of the couch, throw his feet up between them and turn to face her. It was a cozy little scene. Tom pried off his boots with his toes and let them fall beside the couch. Kathryn turned towards him and lay her legs against his, one between his two in a platonic and intimate gesture. They sat like that in a comfortable silence for long, measured minutes. Eventually he spoke.
"Why aren't you out watching the message with everyone else?" What he really mean was why do you love enough to be here with me now, but he didn't say that. Her reply came quickly, and probably more curt than she'd intended.
"I'd already seen it" but then she replied more carefully, after a minute of thought. "and I've already heard it, too many times." She was silent after that, looking in Tom's eyes, almost pleading that he would understand without the need for explanations. He did. Tom nodded and cast down his eyes. He sighed.
"Yea." a long, somewhat comfortable and fitting pause followed before Tom spoke up again. "I just don't understand why everyone buys everything that man says. Not just here either, but I would at least think some of the maquis would show a bit of skepticism. Am I the only one in the universe who isn't suckered in him?" Tom's voice was harsh in his frustration. Not bothering to mention that she wasn't spellbound by the Admiral's speech, Kathryn sat up on the couch and crawled forward so she was sitting in front of Tom, between his legs and facing away from him. She leaned back, resting her head against his chest.
"They all want something to believe in Tom. I couldn't provide them with that forever or with enough conviction. It isn't so much the Admiral as it is the whole reputation of the the federation. Even the former Maquis recognize that and respect it to an extent. If an Admiral says we're getting you home, then come some hell or high water, we'll get home." A faint trace of bitterness had crept into her tone and Tom wrapped his arms around her waist in comfort. He spoke up again, every sentence that they uttered worked to slowly break the silent fog of depression around them.
"Yea, I don't know. Maybe the thing is that I'm not sure I'd want to go back. If a wormhole opened right now off the starboard and it was just me, I don't think I'd choose to go. I can't help thinking that there isn't much in the Alpha Quadrant to go back to." Tom mentally berated himself after he spoke. So much for not laying all his burdens on her. It sounded like a pathetic whine for attention and he regretted saying it already.
Kathryn snuggled in closer to his body and wrapped her arms around his. She couldn't see Tom's face, but wanted desperately to give a voice to the crazy thoughts soaring through her mind.
"I'm glad that we're this little step further to going home, but at the same time it really doesn't mean anything. I know, we both know that they can't do much for us in the Alpha quadrant besides make speeches to boost morale. And I'm happy for everyone, but at the same time.... it seems that all we've been through and it just deserves a pat on the back and a pretty speech about the Federation and its glory. Nothing here has been easy for any of us, and the brass back in San Francisco think its a credit to them. And despite what I know you're thinking, I don't think that so much of your father, just the bureaucracy in general." She didn't want to come out and say it, but Tom could tell from listening between the words that she felt alienated. She couldn't provide for her own crew and all her sacrifices seemed in vain as they all toasted those who had done nothing to help him. They both knew there was no ground to such thoughts. The crew's loyalty to her was beyond simple comprehension, but then, emotions hardly ever require justification. Everything she said, Tom understood all to well.
"Here is to us: the unloved and the unappreciated." Tom raised his hand in a mock toast.
Kathryn sat up and away from Tom's body. She turned around with an almost angry scowl on her face.
"unloved?"
Tom looked rather confused so Kathryn kept talking.
"What in the quadrant has given you the impression that you're unloved?" no mention of him calling her unappreciated, so Tom was pretty certain he'd hit it on the mark, but she continued talking. There wasn't a lot she could do about her own feelings so appeasing Tom's misgivings had just become her primary goal.
"Whether you know it or not, your father does love you. I obviously know that better than you do. Your mother loves you, your sisters love you and your nieces and nephews will be falling all over themselves to welcome the returning hero. I can say with complete conviction (funny she would use those words Tom thought) that you have nothing to worry about." Tom looked unconvinced and he voiced his concerns in a quiet murmur.
"What about you?" Kathryn studied him for the barest of seconds before moving. Not moving away, but moving closer, on her knees and straddling his pelvis.
"What about me. Well I'll be the glorious leader, having led everyone back. I'm expecting a parade actually. Maybe when we reply to the Admiral's message, I should ask him about that and have them start writing songs or something." Tom looked at up her, above him in a commanding position with hands on hips. She looked just like the statue he knew they'd build for her. The somber sharing mood having been broken, Tom sat up and leaned his body forward, taking her with him. As he pushed them past her centre of balance, he felt her cling to his shoulders. He stayed like that for a moment and then lowered them both down to the opposite sides of the couch. Kathryn's hands left their grip on his shoulders and instead her arms stretched out to pull him close to her. Tom looked down at her.
"That wasn't what I meant." said Tom, almost shyly. Kathryn looked up at him with bright eyes and smiled.
"I know, and believe me, that is the absolute last thing that you should question." And with that they both leaned towards each other, managing to get even closer. It was a moment that could have been perfected with a kiss, soon leading to more physical activities, but they both knew they needed to deal with what was left of their insecurities. Kathryn took the initiative.
"But Tom, believe me when I say that nothing is going to be able to tear us apart in the Alpha Quadrant. After the past few years, there is no way Starfleet is going to throw you back in prison. Even if one bullshit Admiral tries, I've promised to fight with you every step of the way." and she kissed him gently on the forehead in a solemn affirmation of her oath.
"And I know your father will do the same damn thing and pull every string he can reach to keep you out of prison, and to make sure you keep all those pips on your collar." Tom looked at her like she was insane. He didn't bother asking what made her think he wanted to stay in Starfleet. She knew he wanted to before he did. He belonged in the stars, and he belonged with Kathryn who was sure to be out there waiting for him. So in a perfect world, yes Tom thought, Starfleet was his home. But what under these very stars had convinced her that his father would support, let alone fight to have Tom officially reinstated. Tom would have thought the opposite.
But lying here on the couch, Tom was so touched by the powerful sincerity of Kathryn Janeway. He almost always was. Not that it was such a rare event, but that the force behind it was so incredibly strong. This was a woman who could make you believe. This was the woman who he loved. Tom shifted her weight gently and she responded, allowing his arms to circle under her back as he drew closer, without crushing her. He thought of what he should say, and nothing appropriate to the moment came to his mind except,
"Thank you".
Kathryn smiled, a bright beaming smile and Tom just couldn't understand it. Helping him made her happy and he simply couldn't comprehend why that was. He certainly didn't feel worthy. But he loved to see that smile on her face; it wasn't there enough and if saving him brought it out, so be it. Tom was sure that if it made her happy, he would remain in one form of trouble or another for the rest of his life. Tom smiled at the thought. Despite the logic, he knew they could provide each other with just the right amount of trouble for the rest of their lives. Despite logic was such an apt phrase for them. Tuvok, who for a Vulcan seemed rather able to cast off logic for the good of the ship and her captain, had been a rock of support for their relationship.
A relationship which in Tom's opinion, had received enough emotional attention today and was ready for some physical. The situation was difficult but they both knew, just knew that together they could work it out. It was rather naive of them, but there was really nothing else they could do. The moment was all that really mattered, and in that moment Tom kissed Kathryn.
