Passing Years Cont'd


Harry Kim had never been a pessimist. He'd always managed to look at the best in people. Seven's death and the chaos that followed, however, gave him a new view of people, namely those he cared about.

Chakotay emerged a dignified widower. Much like Chakotay's father, Seven of Nine had become in death the person she never could have been in life. She would always be young to him, always beautiful. He forgot about the tormented Seven he'd planned to divorce. He forgot about his bitter disappointment once his infatuation had faded away. He could only remember that he'd been married to a beautiful woman whose life had been cruelly stripped away. In Seven's honor, he turned against those who had caused her pain-- the Doctor, with his thwarted affections, Torres, with her dislike, and Janeway, with her indifference.

Torres and the Doctor only took his behavior for a few months. He could ignore them at social occasions, be curt with them in forced interactions. They understood his pain, and Torres cared deeply for her friend, enough to excuse it. After a while, though, Torres got 'sick of his shit' and took it upon herself to break his jaw. The Doctor took it upon himself to fix it very slowly. They confronted him about the way he'd been acting, and he reluctantly conceded that he'd been inappropriate. He blamed it on his grief, and genuinely believed his own words. Chakotay was never intentionally an asshole.

Captain Janeway, however, didn't seem to notice anything he did.

She spent long hours simply staring out the window, at nothing, her mind blank. Harry and the Doctor would come by and attempt to engage her in conversation, and sometimes Torres or Paris. But she was lifeless, flat.

For many months, little could evoke emotion in her, whether it be an alien attack or a good joke. It seemed she'd detached herself from life, as though she were only going through the motions. She'd send others on away missions, she'd skip social occasions. She neglected her duties when possible simply to have more space for brooding.

In just a few months, the entire hierarchy of Voyager had been flipped on its head.

Thanks to Tuvok's degenerative disease, Janeway's detachment, and Chakotay's enthusiasm in his role as widower, Tom Paris found himself the unofficial Captain. Kim himself started taking the lead in many projects, and even began to actively lead away missions.

Tom Paris oversaw the running of the ship, Harry Kim oversaw personnel issues. He made the suggestion to Captain Janeway that she place Mortimer Harren in Seven of Nine's old position. She agreed without much thought, and told him to go through with it.

He also took over Chakotay's old role as the Captain's watchdog-- the role Chakotay had neglected even before Seven's death. He checked up on Janeway frequently, and made sure to drag Janeway along every time either of them was up for shore leave.

One day, lying on a beach, Janeway broke out of her reverie and gazed at him. He met her eyes, tried to figure out what she was thinking.

"How do you like the beach, Captain?"

She looked out over the shore. "I've seen better."

"Well, I'm sure you'll change your mind after a swim; the water's great. High tide's not in yet. Join me?"

He held out a hand for her. She looked at it dispassionately a moment, then her eyes flickered back towards the swollen waves. Something began to change in her expression, and she grasped his hand.

"I'd love to, Ensign." The expression on her face was strangely unsettling.

She dropped her towel, and he watched her from behind as she took the lead, then practically ran towards the water.  She plunged into the water, and he followed. They swam out into deeper water, and the waves bobbed him up and down, below and above the surface of the water. He tried to grin at her over the white crests of water constantly spurting up between them, and she smiled half-heartedly back.

Not quite a grin, but I'll take it, he thought, and contemplated kicking up some water at her.

But she was swimming again, farther. He started to follow. She swam at least as fast as he did, if not faster, and he was confused when she didn't stop.

He paused a moment to tread water and called out, "Captain! Where are you going?"

The wind had picked up, whipping his short hair about his forehead. He could see her form, gliding farther and farther out towards the ocean. Suddenly, he had a bad feeling. Was she caught in the undercurrent? What was she doing? He started swimming after her, fast. Bobbing up and down on the water, pushed under occasionally by the strong waves.

"Captain!"

She either didn't hear, or didn't care. She kept going, farther.

He gritted his teeth, put every last bit of effort he had into his arms and legs, and propelled forward into the water.

Damn it, I'm stronger than her, I'm younger, I can do this. I can catch her.

He pursued, pumping his arms and gasping occasionally for water until his limbs ached. After an intensive spurt, he was rewarded by the sight of her pale body much closer.

"Captain, stop!" he yelled, almost out of breath.

She seemed to panic when she heard him so close by, and suddenly shot forward, impossibly faster. Harry Kim put one last effort into it, and forced himself through the water. He didn't stop for air. His chest nearly exploded, but he didn't waste precious time reaching his head out of the water for a gasp of breath.

And then his hand made contact with her ankle. The skin felt rubbery and slippery to his touch, but he clamped his fingers down. He felt her try to kick against his grip, but he pulled her back, slipped his arm around her trim waist, hugged her back to his chest.

And she started fighting him.

"Stop!" he screamed at her, and they both plunged under the murky water. Desperately, he kicked back up to the cool air of the surface, only for her to take them down again for his efforts.

"STOP!" he gasped when they reached the top again, and he spun her around by the shoulders and shook her, firmly. He kept jerking her by the shoulders back and forth long after she stopped fighting him, and when he regained his senses, he saw her treading water right in front of him, his large hands clamped on thin shoulders. Her hair clung to her, and her blue eyes glowed against her ashen face.

"What was that?" When she didn't answer, he shook her again. " What was it!?"

"I'm sorry, I--" she stopped, surveying their surroundings dismally. "I don't know what came over me."

"I'm not going to let you kill yourself, okay? Is that what you were trying to do? You're the captain, and you're--"

"I don't need a lecture, Ensign. Let's just get back to shore," she interjected as she turned to float back. He grasped her arm and pulled her back around.

"No, I'm not going to wait until shore. I'm going to tell you now."

She looked at him in surprise. He didn't care.

"You're the captain, and we need you. We all need you. Do you know what it would do to this ship if you died? My God, for that matter, do you know what you're doing to the ship now? We need a leader, and if you could get your mind off of someone other than yourself for a moment, you'd see what you're doing to the crew!"

She stared at him. "Wh-what? What's happening with the crew?"

"Do you even see them? They're lost, they're confused. Chakotay's playing the martyr, you're playing the depressant, Tuvok's insane... they need someone to guide them. They're scared." A beat passed. "And I'm scared. Tom and I can't do this alone. Not forever."

She looked down in dismay.

"You're right," she said quietly. "You're right, Harry, and I know it. I-- we'll get back to Voyager, and things will be different. I promise. I'll make it right again."

Something had seemed to clear in her voice, her face. Harry released her.

She scrutinized him for a moment, her blue eyes intense, searching. After a beat, she said, "Harry, I'm getting tired. What do you say we swim back to shore?"

He conceded with a nod. His arms felt pretty damn tired by now. "Are you sure you can make it?"

She smiled. "There's life in these old limbs yet."

He nodded carefully, and only started swimming after she did. They had an easy pace this time, and it took them several minutes to reach the shore. By that time, they were both exhausted, and in no mood to resume their shore leave. They staggered over to their respective towels, and slumped to the ground.

Harry felt his eyes close. When he opened them again, the sky was dark. He glanced quickly over at Captain Janeway, and saw her lying on the ground a few feet from him, fast asleep. He wondered if his words had made any impact on her.

He'd done the trick, though. The next morning, Captain Janeway appeared again on the bridge with energy, as though the last three months had never occurred. When the bridge shift was over and done with, the relieved Tom Paris gave Harry a firm slap on the back and bought him a beer in Sandrine's.

The next day, they could hear Janeway's muffled voice through the ready room door, and a beaten Chakotay came out and resumed his post. Neither officer neglected their duties after that.

Life on Voyager was slowly returning to normal.

THE ELEVENTH YEAR OF VOYAGER'S JOURNEY



"Naomi..."

When she received no answer, Janeway glanced back over her shoulder to meet Samantha Wildman's concerned expression.

"Please... talk to her..." Samantha had urged her just a few days earlier. Apparently, young Naomi had recently taken to hysterics during alien attacks. Samantha Wildman confided that she felt only Captain Janeway could coax the teenager's fears out into the open.

Kathryn, feeling decidedly not up to the task, had delayed her chat with the younger Wildman. She'd delayed until a brief skirmish with an unknown ship sent Naomi hiding amidst the cargo containers, and Samantha Wildman had marched up to the bridge to demand Janeway's help again.

Feeling more than a little ashamed for her delay, Janeway accompanied Samantha to the cargo bay. Old images flickered across her sight as she stepped in this place she'd avoided for so long-- a glowing regeneration alcove, Seven of Nine bathed in the florescent glow of a console...

"Naomi!"

Samantha hung back by the entrance to the cargo bay, and Janeway cautiously approached the nest of containers the teenager had taken shelter in.

"Naomi..."

She threw a helpless glance back at Ensign Wildman. The pain on the mother's face hardened her resolve.

In a stern voice, "Crewman Wildman!" She stopped. Was this the place for authority?

A quiet voice: "Yes, ma'am."

And suddenly Janeway understood why Samantha wanted her here. Mother truly did know best.

"Is there any logical reason why you're hiding in those cargo containers, crewman?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then why don't you come out."

"I can't... captain."

"And why is that?"

She could barely hear Naomi say, "... I'm scared..."

Janeway could hear Samantha Wildman slipping out of the cargo bay, and soon the doors closed, confirming her exit. With a renewed sense of privacy, Janeway approached the cargo containers, and she swore she could just make out the girl's dark shape crouched between two large storage cases.

"Why is that, crewman?"

"The aliens wanted to hurt us."

"They're long gone, now."

"I know."

Kathryn paused a moment, contemplating this situation. The cargo bay. Why the cargo bay?

Seven...

"You've been on this ship all your life... Ten years now. Why are you suddenly afraid of alien attacks? Surely you know you're safe with us."

Silence.

"Is it Seven, Naomi? Is that why you're here?"

"You couldn't protect Seven. She died. I don't want to die, too..."

"What happened to Seven..." Janeway stopped. She stepped closer and lowered herself to her knees, bringing her within Naomi's line of sight. Then, "What happened to Seven was hard on us all. But... it's a risk you always take in life. Whether you're in space being attacked by aliens, or on land swimming in a pool, there's always risk involved."

"But why did she have to die?"

"I can't tell you that, Naomi. I'm sorry."

"I just wish that things were the way they used to be... when Neelix was here, and Seven was okay and wasn't married to Chakotay... We'd play kadis-kot together... I know I'm a little old for that now..." there was a small laugh.

A moment passed in silence.

Janeway spoke, "Why don't you come out here, Naomi? Come out into the open."

After a pause, she could hear a shuffling, and the girl slowly made her way out into the open, a few feet from Janeway. Not for the first time, Janeway marveled at how quickly the girl had grown. She looked at least seventeen. She had delicate features and a soft complexion complimented by her flowing, red hair. She'll be striking when she's older, Kathryn thought. Then, on a darker note, I'd better keep Chakotay the hell away from her...

"You're looking older every day, Naomi. I'm going to have to make you an Ensign, soon," Janeway noted. The words were meant to be encouraging, but the girl suddenly seemed more depressed.

"I couldn't ever be a Starfleet Officer. I'm just a... a coward."

Janeway raised an eyebrow, and Naomi continued, "I see everyone around me... when aliens attack, people on the crew fire their weapons... they do their duties. I just want to hide."

Janeway smiled. "Trust me, Naomi... it's completely normal."

Naomi held her gaze. "You're never afraid."

Janeway tilted her chin up a little. "That's not true at all. I get scared quite often. In fact, I'll tell you a little secret," she beckoned the girl closer with one finger, and Naomi inched forward. "When we first fought aliens in this quadrant, I was trembling, I was so scared. I'd never commanded in battle before, and suddenly we were fighting all by ourselves, left and right. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to keep it up for long."

"But you didn't show it."

"Of course I didn't show it! How could I command the confidence of a crew if they knew I had less battle experience than half of them?"

Naomi looked very interested. "So... when did you stop being afraid?"

Janeway smiled. "With practice. Every time we'd fight, I'd get better, and I'd feel a little less frightened the next battle. One day, I went to the bridge, and I wasn't scared anymore."

Well, not exactly.

No... the moment had really come when she was being chased, defenseless on an injured leg, down the corridor of her own ship by a Hirogen twice her size toting a phaser rifle.... a moment like a nightmare come to life... a moment so unreal that fear left her and never seemed to return... but for the point of her discussion with Naomi, circumstances were different.

"And the day will come when you have enough experience that you're no longer afraid. You just have to trust me on this."

Naomi smiled a little at that.

A few minutes later, they emerged from the cargo bay. Samantha took one look at Naomi, and Janeway knew from the relief on her face that the problem had been solved.

* * *



Janeway stepped into Lieutenant Harry Kim's quarters, and was surprised to see him juggling Miral Paris on his lap.

"Oh, I'm sorry for interrupting..."

"It's all right. We could use a little distraction," Kim grinned with a nod towards the softly growling Klingon child. "Last minute baby-sitting job for Tom and B'Elanna. She was about to blow a fuse in engineering this morning."

"So I heard," Janeway replied wryly. She lowered herself onto the couch next to Kim and Miral. Miral growled and bared her teeth to Janeway, and Kathryn quickly reciprocated the gesture, bringing forth a delighted peal of giggles from the child.

"Cap'n Janeway's Klingon, too?" Miral asked Harry, turning to look at him inquisitively.

"No... Captain Janeway's very human," Janeway answered for him, and leaned back as the girl crawled onto her lap. "And you are definitely your mother's daughter."

"Cap'n growls like a Klingon," Miral shot back.

"You better believe it, kiddo," Janeway replied, and pressed her forehead against Miral's for another growl.

She pulled back as the girl giggled, and noticed Kim chuckling beside her.

"So, did they approach you, or did you approach them?" she inquired.

"I did. I figured I'd give Tom and B'Elanna a night off," Kim answered.

"That was very thoughtful of you." Janeway smiled as Miral began to tug on her hair.

Kim watched as the child wove her hand further into the captain's hair. "So... what was it you needed?"

"Nothing that can't wait. It's Italian tonight in the mess hall... I was just going to ask you if you'd eaten."

"Almost a pound of chili, unfortunately. Tomorrow okay for you?"

"Tomorrow," Janeway confirmed. "It's for the best, I've got some reports..." She stood and tried to extricate herself from Miral's firm grip on her neck and hair, and found it useless. Young though she was, Miral already had some of her mother's formidable Klingon strength.

"Cap'n stay here," Miral said firmly, urging Janeway to sit down with a firm pat on the shoulder.

"Could you help me here?" Janeway asked Kim incredulously.

Kim titled his head sideways, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips. "I'd pay attention to the little lady, Captain. She's not B'Elanna's daughter for nothing."

"You're bordering on insubordination, Lieutenant," Janeway said warningly, but she couldn't help but smile as the child's weight pulled her back down next to him on the couch. She noticed a stack of padds on the floor in front of the couch. "So, what did I interrupt?"

"We were just contemplating a game of Go Fish. Care to play?"

"Play, cap'n, play!" Miral urged, hitting her on the shoulder.

With Harry's eyes sparkling into hers, and Miral's hand firmly entrenched in her hair, Kathryn didn't have the power to say no.

* * *



"Do you ever feel like everything is right in the universe?" Kathryn asked sometime later.

Miral had been safely tucked into Harry's bed, and the two officers were slumped side by side on his couch. Kathryn cradled a cup of coffee in her hands, and Harry had grabbed a beer from the replicator.

"Pretty much every day," Harry replied honestly. "I have my doubts when we're in the middle of a crisis, or when we've lost someone, but overall, I'm pretty happy with they way things have turned out."

Kathryn lolled her head over to face him. "Life's truly like that for you, isn't it?" She looked forward again and sipped her coffee, deep in thought. "I envy you."

"I don't know. I miss some things, things I should notice. Maybe I'd do a better job if I were more critical."

"But you're happy."

"Yes. I guess you could say I am."

"That's the important thing. Happiness. There's so little of it to go around."

"I wouldn't say that," Harry replied softly. "I think it's always there, if you can just take it."

"Only if you can still feel it."

"You never lose your ability to feel happiness," Harry replied firmly. "Never."

"You truly believe that?"

"I know it."

She was silent.

"Back to your original question... a moment when everything seems right..." He looked at her. "Do you ever have that?"

"At times. Times like now," she gestured around them. "But it all goes to hell. Everything goes to hell."

"You think this will turn out badly?"

"I'm counting the minutes."

"I can't see how you live that way."

"I don't see how I do, either. I just do."

"I seem to remember you once being an optimist," Harry teased.

"Years ago... you all needed an optimist..." She paused, and her tone was suddenly very nostalgic. "You were all so very young back then. We were all so very young." Then, her voice harder, "I can at least be honest now. Our situation is perpetually horrendous."

"I don't know," Harry observed, "The way I see it, we're all healthy, we haven't taken any real damage in weeks... We could all get home tomorrow."

"Or we could all be blown to pieces."

"Well, if you see it that way..."

"Young, innocent Naomi Wildman seems of that school of thought."

"Yeah, I heard about that. Is she okay?"

"I think she will be now." Kathryn sighed. "Time will tell. We won't know until our next attack."

"But things are fine for now," he pressed.

"For now, but--"

"Then why not celebrate that, and worry about the next time when it comes?"

"I can't just do that..."

"Why not?" He asked.

"You don't understand," she said. "If you just... settle because things seem nice, they seem peaceful, you'll never be prepared."

"And if you're always preparing, you'll never be happy. It's a choice."

Kathryn looked at him suspiciously. "I thought we were talking about Naomi."

"I thought we were, too." He held up his hands in mock defense. "I didn't start with the subtext."

Kathryn rubbed the bridge of her nose. "It all gives me a headache, anyway. Let's just speak plainly."

"All right." He paused, forming his words carefully. "I just think you should relax for a while. Enjoy the quiet times. A night after baby sitting. An afternoon with a good book. A beer, or in your case, a cup of coffee with a shipmate."

Kathryn gazed at him for a second, then almost imperceptibly shook her head.

"Disaster will always be there, Harry... Ticking closer and closer," Kathryn replied, holding up one... then two... then three fingers for emphasis.

"Then just ignore the clock for a while," Harry rejoined, and reached over to push down her fingers with his own.

It was meant as an offhand gesture, but his touch against hers, warm, intimate, suddenly sent tingles down both their spines.

His touch... her touch... A world suddenly opened itself up before them. They sat there touching a full second, both too surprised to act.

Janeway pulled her hand from his and pressed it tightly against the coffee mug. He recoiled slightly himself, and sat stiffly next to her on the couch. A sudden barrier had appeared between them.

"Well, it truly is getting late," Janeway finally said.

"Yeah. I'd better get some sleep."

They rose to their feet.

"You shouldn't have bought me coffee," Janeway said with a half-hearted smile. "I'll be up until dawn."

Harry smiled awkwardly. "Well, at least if you miss morning shift tomorrow, you won't be there to catch me sleeping on duty."

"Wishful thinking, Lieutenant."

They stood there smiling at each other for a moment, and then the barrier slammed back into place.

"Good night, Lieutenant," Janeway said.

"Good night, Captain."

She walked past him and out the door. Harry stood there for a moment, then a single thought pierced the veil over his mind:

What the hell just happened here?

* * *



Harry and Tom were still friends, but it wasn't like before.

Tom Paris had matured ten years in the first ten weeks of Miral's life. Captain Proton was gone. In his place was Tom Paris-- husband, crewmate, and above all, father. When Tom spoke endlessly of Miral, Harry could think of nothing to say himself. A small rift had formed between them. Torres and Paris gravitated to the other parents on the ship-- Ken Dalby and Jenny Delaney... Samantha Wildman... Crewman Jerron and Sue Nicolleti...

Harry found himself reaching out to the other person around him who seemed as adrift as he, and that person was Kathryn Janeway.

Harry had helped pull Janeway back together after Seven's death, and she returned his kindness with a new openness, free of the previous condescension. They'd slowly been forging a friendship, perhaps making up for the relationships they'd lost-- she with Chakotay, he with Tom.

She was less inclined to view him as a hopelessly naive ensign now, and he no longer saw in her an aloof paragon of maturity. As he considered it, they only had a fifteen year age difference, and now that he was into his thirties, it wasn't so large as to separate them.

When they met for dinner, the night after their "moment" (as he'd privately dubbed it) in his quarters, things seemed back to normal. They discussed ship's business... Laughed over Chakotay's misstep the previous week regarding the Moteran Prelate's daughter... They compared Ayala's abilities as security chief to Tuvok's... They discussed friends come and gone.

"I miss him, sometimes," Janeway said distantly.

"Tuvok?"

"Well, yes, Tuvok. Him, too."

Then, "You mean, Chakotay?"

She nodded. "It used to be so different. I don't know when the enmity grew stronger than the friendship."

Just then, Harry noticed Chakotay across the dining hall, receiving food from the prattling Bolian, Chell. She must have just noticed him.

"I always thought it was his marriage..." Harry said, looking at Janeway and feeling an unpleasant twinge of what might have been jealousy.

"No, it was before that. I used to think it was the Equinox incident, but it started even earlier."

"You two never seemed the same once Seven arrived," Harry observed.

"When we first encountered Species 8472, we had a fight. A bad one," Janeway conceded.

"Well, there you have it."

"Maybe." She pressed her lips closed tightly.

"It may be for the best. You grew in different directions," Harry remarked.

"Yes. But for a short time... it was a remarkable friendship."

She looked down at her plate, twirled her noodles with her fork.

"I'm sorry we missed the Italian last night..." Harry said apologetically when he noticed she hadn't eaten much.

"Oh, I'm not. I had a lot of fun." She smiled up at him then, and he returned it.

"Miral's a good kid. A bit of a handful, but a good kid," Harry said with a grin.

"With Tom and B'Elanna as her parents, it's no surprise," Janeway chuckled. He laughed some himself.

"You know," Harry said wickedly. "I always wondered about those kids you had with Paris." Janeway almost spat out her coffee. "What would they have been like as humans?"

"Oh, God, don't bring that up," Janeway moaned, fighting a grin. She raked a hand across her forehead.

"Probably as reckless and dramatic as you... as loud and raunchy as Tom..."

"They'd be demon children," Janeway replied with a laugh. "A menace to society."

Harry Kim leaned closer and asked quietly, "Do you remember anything... you know, from that time?"

Janeway colored a little, glanced around furtively, then beckoned him imperceptibly closer.   She leaned over to whisper in his ear.  He strained carefully so as not to miss her quiet words.

"NO!"

The volume startled him, and he pulled back to see mischief in her eyes.  Harry scowled at her. He couldn't hold the scorn for long before a smile broke across his features. She returned it with a beautiful grin of her own that sent pleasure sweeping through him. And then it struck him.

I'm in love with this woman

Oh shit.

The wrong Delaney sister. Seven of Nine. A dead woman. A hologram. A woman from a xenophobic species. A terrorist.

Now the Captain.

But as they finished their meal, he realized that she wasn't simply the captain to him, and he wasn't simply young Ensign Kim to her anymore. And Harry Kim, the eternal optimist, set back on course to get his heart broken.