Disclaimer: Star Trek and all things contained therein are the property of Paramount Pictures. I am just the targ dung under their feet. No infringement intended. For details, see chapter one.
Her first thought as she slogged out of a deep sleep was, Who in the hell is operating that bulldozer in my apartment? Who would be doing construction in her bedroom, especially at this time in the morning? Then, as the sounds became more distinct, she debated on how many years she'd be sentenced to prison for killing the idiot who was running that jackhammer inside her head. Whatever the penalty, she was certain it would be worth it.
Kathryn Janeway groaned and pulled her pillow over her head,
trying desperately to drown out the sonic booms going off inside her
skull. But the noise was
persistent. It only took her a minute
or two to realize that she was actually hearing her door buzzer, though it
sounded more like antimatter explosions.
"Go away," she croaked. But the mystery ringer wasn't giving up, and soon added a thunderously
deafening knocking to the litany of buzzes. That combination was more than Janeway's hung over mind could
tolerate. "All right! I'm coming!" she snarled in a hoarse voice
that made her sound decidedly Klingon.
She sat up, a wave of vertigo crashing down on her for her
trouble. Somehow, she managed to
eventually stagger to the door. She
threw it open, her hair sticking out wildly around her head, making her look
like a Kazon woman who'd been struck by lightening. She was huffing and puffing
as she glared at her visitor. "What?!?!"
The doctor stared at his former captain in disbelief. Or was it horror? "Captain! Are you
ill? You look absolutely dreadful!"
Before she could glare at him again, or tell him to go to
hell, she was hit by a tidal wave of intense nausea. Her bloodshot eyes grew wide as she slapped a hand over her
mouth. She turned and ran for the
bathroom, barely making it in time. She
sunk weakly to the floor, and with each wretch that tore from her gut; she
silently vowed to kill Tom Paris with her own two hands.
The doctor stood over her with a medical tricorder – what,
did he carry that damn thing with him everywhere he went just to irritate her?
– and his holographic face contorted into a disapproving frown as he read the
scans. "Well, it doesn't take a genius
to figure out what's the matter with you, Captain. Although, I am one. You're experiencing what you Humans ineptly refer to as a hang over."
No kidding! Now she found the energy to glare at him. "Really! Did your incredibly superior diagnostic matrix tell you that, Genius?"
"No," he said smugly. "The ridiculously high level of alcohol in your blood did. You've got enough in there to preserve your
body for years. I don't know whether to
treat you, or bury you in the lawn!"
Janeway couldn't stand it anymore. The nausea was about to make a repeat appearance, and the
trembling was spreading from her hands to the rest of her haggard body. Treatment or death, either one would be
welcome at this point. "Well, pick one
and do it quickly. I can't take this
much longer."
"I don't know…" said the doctor reluctantly. "You did do this to yourself, after
all. Maybe it'd teach you to respect
your body, maybe even feed it once in a while, if..."
Kathryn launched off the floor like a photon torpedo and
seized the EMH by his holographic lapels. "I'm in no mood for lectures, Doctor. Make this go away or I swear to God, I'll reprogram you to be a
whistling teapot!"
"Ah," he said, gently but firmly prying her hands from his
shirt. "Assault and battery followed by
vicious threats. I see you've been
spending time with Lieutenant Torres. That wasn't, by chance, blood wine you
were drinking, was it?"
"No," she said, rubbing her palm against her aching
forehead. "I drank a Liquid Cocaine in
a bar in France with Tom Paris."
The doctor's dour expression proved that he obviously didn't
believe that story. "Forget it," he
grumbled. "My fault for asking."
"Can you make this hang over stop, Doctor?"
"I can ease the symptoms and stop the vomiting. But I can't make it all disappear. I'm a doctor, not a magician."
Janeway staggered over and flopped onto the sofa as the
doctor retrieved a hypospray from the replicator. He moved to Janeway's side and peered down at her. "This injection should make you feel better,
Captain." He looked at her mussed, wild
hair, her pasty, pale skin, and her bloodshot eyes. "Although, you do look like the walking dead. Perhaps a wooden stake through the heart
would do the trick."
"Doctor," she warned.
"Very well," he said, pressing the hypospray to her
neck. "But next time you decide to
poison your body with real alcohol, I hope you'll remember how you felt today."
Kathryn winced slightly at the hiss of the hypospray, and
then sighed with relief as her symptoms began to dissipate almost
immediately. She pulled herself to a
seated position and rubbed the spot on her neck where the medication had been
injected through her skin. "Thank you,
Doctor."
He nodded. "You're
welcome."
She wrinkled her brow and studied the EMH. Her mind starting to clear, she suddenly
found herself wondering what had brought him to her door. She offered him a lop-sided grin, despite
the slight pounding that lingered stubbornly in her head. "Not that I don't appreciate your
intervention this morning, Doctor, but what are you doing here? I'm willing to bet you didn't just get an urge
to make an impromptu house call."
"Of course not. That
was just an added bonus," he said wryly. "I originally came here to speak to you about something of a more …
personal nature."
"Oh?" Janeway eyed
him curiously. "Have a seat and tell
me what's on your mind."
He sat next to her on the sofa and seemed to be studying his
hands rather intently. Was he
nervous?! After a moment of what
appeared to be an internal struggle he said, "Actually, I wanted to discuss
Seven of Nine."
Janeway felt her heart drop into her stomach. Seven was one topic she preferred not to
talk about at the moment. She'd been
avoiding her since they returned to Earth, uncertain how to deal with her and
her apparent feelings for Chakotay. Her
headache just stepped up a notch. "What
about her?" she managed to say neutrally.
"I'm not quite certain where to begin," he said. "I'm sure you're aware that I've always
carried a certain affection for Seven, Captain."
Now there's an understatement, she
thought. "Of course I am. And it's Kathryn," she said. "Call me Kathryn."
He regarded her skeptically. "I'm not sure I can."
She laughed. "Why
not? It is my name, after all."
"Yes, I'm aware of that. But the only person allowed to call you 'Kathryn' on the ship was
Chakotay. I've addressed you as
'Captain' for all of my existence."
"Your program is adaptable." Why was this so hard for them? "On Voyager we had to maintain a certain standard at all
times. But we aren't on the ship
anymore. And I am no longer your captain. When we're alone and away from Starfleet, I want you to call me
Kathryn."
"Very well, Kathryn," he said, trying her new title
on for size. "Since we returned to
Earth, I have realized that not only had I grown accustomed to my daily
interaction with Seven, I looked forward to it. She no longer checks in with me for her routine maintenance. In fact, I've hardly seen her since we
docked. Now that she's … involved …
with Commander Chakotay, it appears she doesn't need me. I find that I …"
"You miss her," Janeway supplied softly.
"Yes," he nodded. "I
miss her very much."
"I'm willing to bet she misses you as well. Have you tried to contact her?"
"No. No, I
haven't." He leaned forward and placed
his hands on his knees. "She's with the
commander now. I didn't want to
interfere."
It suddenly became clear to Kathryn that the Doctor's
feelings for Seven went well beyond a holographic crush. Why hadn't she realized it before? "Doctor, you know you can always be honest with
me, right?"
"Of course, Capt … I mean Kathryn. And you know you can always be honest with me as well, right?"
Ah, this was going to be a two way confessional. Very well. But before she could have such a heart to heart with a second officer in
as many days, she needed coffee. She
moved to the replicator as she spoke. "Yes, I know I can be honest with you. " Now that I've finally been honest with myself, she added
silently.
"Then I assume it's safe to say that this unexpected union
between Seven and Chakotay has been particularly painful for us both?"
She sipped from her steaming coffee mug and then
nodded. "Yes, I think it's safe to say
that." She eyed her old friend
carefully. He had become so much more
that a mere medical program over the past seven years. He'd become a trusted friend, and Janeway
thought him as Human as she was. The
fact that he'd developed such deep feelings for Seven only served to further
prove that. "You're in love with her,
aren't you?" she asked gently.
"Yes," he said without hesitation. "And the same could be said of your feelings for the commander?"
"I tried to deny it for a long time, even to myself. But yes, " she looked up at him. "I love Chakotay. I have for a long time."
"Rather pitiful, aren't we?" said the Doctor bitterly. "Two broken heated love birds, sitting here
sharing our woes while the objects of our affection are off doing God knows
what together."
"Yes," she said absently, suddenly remembering her
conversation with Tom the night before. "Or, actually no."
"No?" he said with surprise. "It certainly looks that way to me."
"No, I mean they aren't off doing God knows what
together. I'd almost forgotten. Tom
told me last night, I'm sure of it. How
could I forget that?" she muttered to herself.
"Forget what?" He
looked concerned. "You're
blabbering. Do you need another
injection?"
"No," she chuckled, realizing how idiotic she must have
sounded. "I don't need an
injection. I just remembered some of my
conversation with Tom last night. He
told me that Seven is on Vulcan, and she and Chakotay haven't seen each other
for two weeks."
The Doctor looked skeptical. "Well, given the source of the information, are you sure of it's
veracity? Mr. Paris has always been the
leader of the rumor mill."
"I know, but this information came right from the horse's
mouth."
Now he really looked confused. "What horse? Captain, are
you sure you're feeling all right?"
She laughed aloud. "It's an old Earth expression, Doctor. It means the information came directly from the source itself."
"Well, you could've just said that in the first place."
"Chakotay had dinner with Tom and B'Elanna recently. He mentioned that Seven was on Vulcan, and he
was headed to Arizona to see some friends. And he said…" She paused and
attempted to suppress her silly grin. "He said he missed me."
"Well what does that mean, exactly?" he asked. "Does it mean they aren't seeing each other
any more? Or does it just mean that he
hasn't seen her since she left Earth?"
"I'm not sure," she said honestly. "But I got the impression that Tom knew something more. He encouraged me to seek Chakotay out and
tell him how I feel." She rose to her
feet and began pacing, as she always did when she was in deep thought. "I had decided to stay away and let Chakotay
have a chance at happiness based on something that Admiral Janeway told me when
she first came to Voyager."
"And what was that?"
She considered it for a moment. "Well, I didn't tell anyone at first. Temporal Prime Directive, you understand. But we have changed the future considerably
by coming home 16 years ahead of schedule, so I suppose that future is
irrelevant." She stopped pacing and
turned to face him. "In Admiral
Janeway's timeline, Chakotay and Seven were married." She paused to gage his reaction. The hologram looked horror-stricken. "I know, I felt the same way when she told me. Naturally, I thought my chance with Chakotay had passed. I figured I'd refused him for too long, and
I just wanted him to be happy. Even if
that meant I had to watch him be with Seven."
"And now?"
"And now I realize that Seven may not be making him happy
after all. Things are different now, we
aren't on the ship anymore. I'm not his
captain anymore. We always had an
unspoken agreement between us, Chakotay and me. We never said it aloud, but I think it was always understood that
when we made it home, we would finally be able to have a life together. I guess I always thought he'd wait for me."
"Perhaps he may have had a future with Seven on Voyager because
he knew you were unattainable as long as we were on the ship. But now that we're home, well - that changes
everything."
"Exactly," she grinned. "That's what I'm hoping. Tom's
right, I need to go to him. I need to
tell him how I feel. I owe him that
much. And you need to do the same
thing, Doctor."
The Doctor followed Kathryn to her bedroom, where she pulled
out her small travel bag and began packing. "What are you doing?"
"I'm packing. And so
should you."
"Me? Where am I
going? For that matter, where are YOU
going?"
"I'm going to Arizona," she said. "Before I lose my nerve." She looked up at him as she stuffed a blue sundress into her bag. "And you're going to Vulcan. You can use my private shuttle. Now get moving."
He looked genuinely surprised. "That sounded suspiciously like an order, Kathryn."
"If that's what it takes," she said, her hands on her
hips. "You need to go to Vulcan and find
Seven. Then you need to take her some
place nice, some where private."
"I see," he said patronizingly. "And then what? You seem
to have this all figured out."
She regarded him with as much patience as she could
muster. Given her slamming headache and
nervous stomach, it wasn't much. "You're going to tell her how you feel about her. Not some quick deathbed confession in front
of half the senior staff this time, either. You need to sit with her, look her in the eyes, and calmly tell her how
much she means to you."
"I don't know…"
"You have to do this, Doctor. At least then she'll know. No matter what happens between you, she'll know that you love her. That has to count for something." She regarded her old friend
affectionately. "She deserves to hear
the truth. And you deserve a
chance. Don't shortchange yourself, my
friend. She can't make an informed
decision if she doesn't know how you really feel. Give her a chance, hmmm?"
The Doctor seemed to consider this new information for a
moment. "Going to Vulcan in the famous
Captain Janeway's personal shuttle. How
could a hologram refuse?" His
nervousness showed clearly in his face. "I suppose I should get going. Vulcan is a big planet. Any
suggestions where I should begin?"
She bit her lower lip in thought. "Start with Tuvok. I bet
he knows where she is."
They shared a meaningful gaze, and then the Doctor pulled
his captain into an embrace. "Thank you
for everything, Kathryn. I hope you
find what you're looking for."
"And you," she answered softly, squeezing his shoulder.
He paused in the bedroom doorway and looked back at
her. "Oh, and take a shower, would
you? You're likely to scare the
commander to death with that hairdo. You look like an electrocuted African Bush woman. "
She laughed and ran her hands through her unruly locks. "Yes, Doctor."
She watched his retreating from as he exited her
apartment. Oh, Seven, don't break
his heart, she thought silently. And
Chakotay, don't break mine. No matter
how many times I've torn yours out. She took one last look at herself in the mirror. The face that stared back at her was a
little older than the one she wore when she first left Earth. A few more wrinkles, each with a story to
tell. Her complexion was wan and the dark
circles under her eyes made her look like she had the flu. But there was hope burning in her blue eyes
for the first time since Admiral Janeway stormed into her life and told her
none too gently that Chakotay had moved on. And that was all she needed – a little hope.
Well … that and a hot bath.
TO BE CONTINUED…
