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 Seven - Vulcan
I don't know what got into me the other night. I had settled everything with Harry. Or so I thought. When I got back after my dinner with Mark, I didn't go to my own quarters. I went to Harry's. He was a bit surprised that I was there, but he didn't seem to mind... The lovemaking we shared was beyond most of my earlier experiences. I find that strange, since I'm not in love with Harry. But then, maybe that's why. We could give in to passion and attraction without thinking about the consequences. It's over now, though. I didn't see him after that night, only professionally, and never alone. And now I'm on my way to Vulcan to meet with Seven, and with Tuvok and his family. It's strange to imagine Seven there, after fighting so hard with releasing her human emotions. But maybe the decision to let the Doctor perform the procedure that removed her Borg fail-safe left her bewildered and overwhelmed. I can think of no other reason to why she would choose to stay on Vulcan. I guess I'll just have to ask her when I get there.
Mark has left me in a strange nostalgic mood. The dinner was lovely, and so was the lunch we shared the next day. I haven't laughed that much in years. He always knew how to cheer me up. But then he started talking about us. Me and him. He started talking about how he felt when I was lost, how he had lived in my house even after I was declared 'missing, presumed dead.' It touched me, and I could do nothing but stare at him in awe. He really did love me. Not in the comfortable way I loved him; he loved me with a fierce, all-consuming love. I can't believe I never realized that. Not until now. Time passed so quickly for me, and even though I, too, had started to let go, his letter hurt me in a way I never thought possible. Because he had left me. Not like Justin, who was ripped away from me; not like any of the others, where the relationship had just ebbed out until it was nothing and we parted in peace. Mark left me. For him, years of pain had passed. Years of grief and longing. Then Layla came along, showing him a way to heal. I think what he told me gave me some perspective on my own pain. It had been nothing compared to his. And I found that I still love him. It's the same love I use to feel for him, only now it's more of a dull ache. He will always be a very dear friend. He always has been.
That makes me think of the man who was my friend, but wanted to be more. Oh, why am I lying to myself? I wanted us to be more. But I let fear come in the way. Too many misunderstandings left unsolved. Too much grief, pain, and guilt. The funny thing is, that right now, that pile of rubbish that's keeping us apart, is growing bigger. Because I'm letting it. Yet, I don't know how to confront him. I don't know how to break free of the vines of mistrust and anger that's holding me from him. And now there's a new fear as well; the fear of rejection. Why do I have to be such a coward when it comes to my own emotions? I never was before. Why am I acting this way with him?
Maybe a few weeks on Vulcan will clear my mind. Tuvok has that effect on me, and being with Tuvok on Vulcan can only enhance that effect. It will give me a chance to meditate with him, spend quiet moments of reflection, and maybe revive my friendship with Seven.
I put the diary aside, and look out the shuttle's window. The stars are streaking past, and oddly, that's a comforting sight. I didn't realize I had become so restless. But I guess being torn away from everything you know and being away from all that for seven years, can have that effect on a person. Now I know why I never felt at ease on Earth. The stars weren't streaking past my window, they were fixed in the sky. I was standing still, not going anywhere.
A handsome young Vulcan, one of the transport's stewards, approaches me and asks if I would like some coffee. I accept, and he delivers it without a word. When I smile and thank him, he nods and says "You're welcome." Unemotional, but not uncaring. Logical, but not cunning. And blissfully calm. Yes, Vulcan will be good for me. The comforting, intelligent logic will surely ease my turbulent soul.
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