Please read!!
Author's Note: This is a first-person-present-tense-Janeway story. If you don't like Janeway, you won't like this story. This is originally a NC-17 story… and it's still pretty hot. Nothing graphical, though, but consider yourselves warned. :)
Thank you to Cress for helping me remake this story!
Pairings: Mainly J/C, a little J/Harry. Mention of P/T, D/7, and C/7. Don't let that frighten you though - it's not as bad as it sounds.
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Send any and all comments about this story to nameless_ensign@hotmail.com.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything in this story. No the story in itself, though. Not until they pay me for it, anyway. ;) And that will never happen.
To the journey (post Endgame)
PG-13 version
by Nameless Ensign (nameless_ensign@hotmail.com)
Part One - In a cafe
Funny. For the past seven years, I've been certain that once we made it home, I would be happy about it. It would be a triumph, the height of my career, of my life even. And then my conscience would be clear. Guilt would leave me, and only joy and fulfillment would remain. But when Voyager emerged from that trans-warp conduit in front of all those Starfleet vessels, I only felt empty. There was no joy, no fulfillment. Oh, I've longed to see my mother and Phoebe again, but other than that, I didn't have any reason to come back to Earth any more. I realize now that the only reason I held on to the mission of going home, is that... well I guess I just needed a goal. The crew needed a goal. Otherwise we'd just be drifting in space. Oh, but right now, I wish I was out there again, that the last two weeks never happened. But then I'd end up that hardened, lonely admiral. Respected - yes, wise - perhaps, healthy - obviously, happy - no. I don't want to become that person. But it looks like I'll end up like her anyway. Of course, Tuvok has a chance of being cured, Seven and 22 other members of my crew don't have to die because of me, and Chakotay... will hopefully be happy. Damn them. I know the Admiral from the future gave her life so that Tuvok would be well, so that Chakotay would be happy, so that I at least wouldn't feel so damn guilty. But I'm still lonely and I'm beginning to doubt that the guilt will ever leave me. Maybe I've been collecting guilt for too long. There is no way I can make everything right.
I wonder how Seven is doing. I haven't seen her since the day after we reached Earth. I guess, as her mentor, I haven't been doing a very good job these last couple of weeks. I just can't face her. I don't think I'd be very nice. And she doesn't deserve my anger. She didn't know. How could she have known? And even if she had known, why should she care? I should be happy we succeeded, so she didn't have to die. But these last couple of weeks I've been more selfish than I'm used to being. Anyway, she doesn't need me now, she's got a new mentor... God, that makes me feel so desperately lonely. I feel like I've lost both her and Chakotay. I love them both, separately, and in different ways. But I can't face them together. My best friend and my protégée don't need me any more because they now have each other. God, that's so depressing. Damn them.
"Captain?"
I look up into the smiling blue eyes of Tom Paris. An immediate sense of warmth spreads throughout me. Being busy wallowing in self-pity had made me forget that I do have friends and allies after all. I smile at him, a happy, honest smile. I gesture for him to sit down at my table. Then I close the old-fashioned diary I was writing in, and turn to face him.
"It's so good to see you, Tom!" That's really an understatement, but acting too over enthusiastic would probably make him think I was crazy. Tom looks relieved, and his eyes are glittering. I guess maybe he feels a bit alien to Earth too.
"Likewise, Captain."
"Please, call me Kathryn. We're not on the ship any more."
He smiles back at me. "All right... Kathryn..." Just then, the waiter comes up to our table, and Tom gestures towards him. "Another cup of coffee?"
I nod, and Tom orders two cups of coffee.
"So, how have you been, Tom? And how's B'Elanna and the baby? Have you decided on a name yet?" I guess maybe I am acting over enthusiastic anyway. Oh, to hell with it. I am over enthusiastic.
"I'm fine. I just... it feels a bit strange, doesn't it?"
I nod. "I was just sitting here wishing I was back on Voyager, still stuck in the Delta Quadrant. Despite all the reasons the Admiral gave me... us for taking this chance to go home, I can't bring myself to be completely happy about it." I smile a little, trying to convey that I don't mean that I wish any of them any danger or unhappiness. Tom seems to understand, though.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. Kinda sad, isn't it? We spend seven years trying to get home, and when we do, we realize we don't really fit in there anymore."
We sit quiet for a while, both somber, both sad for the dangerous but familiar home we've lost now that we've made it back to the place we thought was home. Ironic. Then the waiter arrives with our coffee, and we pull ourselves out of our musings. I sip my coffee, the hot, black, and soothing beverage I've missed so much. "Ah! Real coffee. Now I remember why I wanted to come back to Earth," I say and flash Tom a crooked smile over the rim of my cup. He smiles back at me, and the twinkle in his eye I'm so used to seeing returns.
"Yeah. And dad would want to see his granddaughter. Maybe we did make the right decision in coming back after all." He's joking too, trying to lighten the mood.
I suddenly think of my earlier questions. "Speaking of Owen's granddaughter, you never told me how B'Elanna and the baby were doing."
"Ah. They're doing just fine."
Somehow, I don't think he's telling me the whole truth. "Really?"
"I guess we're just having a hard time adjusting to being back on Earth. There are so many people around, but not the people we want to be around."
The Voyager family. I miss them too. "I know what you mean."
Another moment of silence pass between us. Then he speaks again, genuinely cheerful this time. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"
I look up at him, surprised. A small hope of not having to spend another evening alone is being born in me. "No. Why?"
"Maybe you'd like to join us for dinner?" His eyes are hopeful, pleading.
I'll accept of course, gratefully. "I'd love to, Tom. Where are you staying?"
"At my dad's house. He'll be there too. I hope you won't mind? I think he'd love to talk to you too."
I smile, and for the first time in two weeks, I'm not feeling like I'm all alone. "No, of course I won't mind. What time?"
"1800 hours?"
The way he says that makes me smile. We're so thoroughly trained military people, we can't even use the expression 'six o'clock' like everyone else does.
"What?" he asks, confused.
"Oh, I was just thinking, maybe we all need some time off to be something other than Starfleet officers. Even now, in a cafe in San Francisco, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, we talk like military people." He just looks at me questionly so I clarify. "You said '1800 hours', not 'six o'clock'."
"Oh." He still looks confused.
"Never mind, Tom. It's just me trying to figure out how not to be the Captain. I guess I'm overdoing it. I'll be there at 1800 hours." I smile.
He nods and smiles back at me, obviously pleased. "Well I better get going. B'Elanna sent me to do the grocery shopping, and if I spend all afternoon in a cafe, there won't be any dinner at all. I'll see you tonight, then?"
I nod and he gets up to leave. "Oh, and Tom? Thank you for inviting me. You have no idea how much it means."
He smiles. "I think I do."
Then he leaves. Leaves me alone with only my thoughts for company again. But at least I don't feel so depressed any more. The thought of spending the evening in the company of friends—no, family is what they are—is very comforting. I decide to make the most of it and get some new clothes. I don't want to go in my uniform, and all my civilian clothes are old and hopelessly outdated. I leave the cafe, happily humming to myself.
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