Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Don't sue. Don't interrupt. Can't you see I'm *busy*?
Comment: The end is near, my friends! And this time I mean it, the last chapter ("Promise") is already written down, I only have to type it into the computer. (By the way, I wrote this at the airport, the plane to Frankfurt was three hours late.)
Not much J/C in this one (a long one!), at least not directly. It's mostly about how other crewmembers see the Kathryn/Chakotay/Seven-situation. There's quite some Tom/B'Elanna stuff in here, and I really like some parts of it, so you *can* skip it, but you might actually enjoy it if you don't.
And yes, I chickened out shamefully. If you read this, you'll know what I mean.
Review: (see above) Come on, tell me so! I deserve it.
Chapter 13: Connection
The living room was deserted, except for one lonely figure, a woman sitting on the central couch. Tom walked up to her from behind, bent down, kissed her neck and whispered: "How come the prettiest girl of the party is sitting here all by herself?"
B'Elanna smiled. "Waiting for just any guy to come and pick me up. I don't see anyone else, so I guess that's you."
Tom flopped over the back of the couch to stretch beside his wife, his head in her lap. He felt a few cracks and creaks in his joints; he could have sworn they weren't there a couple of months ago. He decided he was probably coming down with something, a cold, maybe the flu.
"Lucky me!" B'Elanna put a hand on his head and absent-mindedly ruffled his hair. Tom glanced up at her. She was staring into the distance, obviously lightyears away from the Janeways' couch, their living room, the planet earth. But some of the tension he had noticed building up inside her in the last couple of days was gone. If he had dared to put his head in her lap even the day before, he could probably have played soccer with that same head seconds later. But that the tension seemed to be easing didn't mean she was ready to talk about it. (He wasn't aware that he had taken to call all kinds of events connected with the captain "it" in his mind. An aseptic "it" was as far as he dared to go. He didn't dare recall the memories of what he had seen. He knew he would have to, eventually. But not yet. Not for a long time.)
He decided to be careful. "Where's Miral?"
"Out by the swing with Sam and Naomi. And Harry's out there, too, I think."
"Wasn't Chakotay with Miral a minute ago?"
For the first time she looked directly at him, raising a quizzical eyebrow. "Chakotay and Tuvok went for a walk. And you know perfectly well because you were the one who told me exactly one hour ago."
She tried to make her voice sound annoyed, but she wasn't really. She'd been on edge for days, and he knew that talking about the captain made her nervous. He didn't want her to be unhappy, that was all. She ran her fingers through his hair, with a purpose this time, slowly, tenderly.
"It's all right."
He craned his neck to blink up at her. "It is?"
"Yeah." She paused. "We talked."
"You and the captain?"
"Yes." Another pause. "I feel better now." B'Elanna shook her head. "It's unbelievable. *She* goes through seven kinds of hell, *I* behave like the unsupportive, egotist jerk that I am, and it's still *her* who has to make *me* feel better."
"You're not a jerk. You were just scared, and confused, and angry -"
"*And* unsupportive, *and* unsensitive, *and* an egotist jerk. One would have thought that being a mother would have changed that."
"B'Elanna..."
Tom leaned on an elbow to sit up, but she gently pressed his shoulder until his head fell back into her lap. "No, it's ok, Tom, really. I'm not going to wallow in self pity, don't worry. It's just that I can't believe how... I mean, she's so..." She fought the lump of tears in her throat.
"Yeah, I know. She is."
After a minute, Tom spoke again. "So, where is she, anyway?"
"In the kitchen. I think Seven is showing her some top secret recipe for a Borg pistachio ice cream dessert."
"What!?" Tom jumped up as if he had recieved an electrical discharge.
"Ok, ok, there is no Borg pistachio ice cream dessert. No reason for panic. They are just talking."
"Talking?"
"Yeah, talking." B'Elanna looked at her husband with mild amusement. "Is there a problem, Tom, sweetheart?"
Tom opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally, he managed: "No, no problem. It's just that... well, I was... surprised, I guess, that's all."
"Surprised? And why would you be so surprised, my love?" B'Elanna was barely repressing a broad grin.
"Well... oh, for Gods sake, B'Elanna, *you* know! This is Seven and the captain we're talking about. I thought... well, after everything that's happened, I didn't think I'd ever see the two of them sit together and talk."
"So, you thought they'd give each other the silent treatment for the next fifty years? Maybe have it out with a couple of bat'leths back by the swing?"
"No, of course not. That's not what I meant. What I mean is-"
What do I mean?, he thought. The captain and Seven: that used to be a logical unit. The captain was the one who had taken the decision to keep Seven severed from the collective, she had been her reference, first in her hate, her anger and distrust, then in her growing confidence, her need for help and advice, as a role model, as a friend. And it had not been only Seven who had learned from the other woman, not only her who sought out the other's company. There had been a special connection between them, right from the start. So when, mused Tom, did I start to think of them as antagonists, even enemies, two people who just don't make sense sitting together in the kitchen, talking?
Well, that's an easy one: when Seven started dating Chakotay. And why would that be a problem? Well, it would be if the captain and Chakotay were - well, "together", and Seven had meanly sneaked up and taken Chakotay away from his rightful partner. Which was definitely *not* the case. Chakotay and the captain had never been "together". Well, they were together a lot, of course, it came with the job. So much the better when they actually became friends, so much the better if they could enjoy an occasional informal dinner, or a day off on the holodeck. It was bad enough to have a mixed crew, Starfleet and Maquis thrown together against their will. The captain had taken a great, though calculated risk when she chose the leader of what she then still had to consider "the enemy" as her fist officer.
She trusted him, but there was more than that. Tom was sure he was not the only one to notice. It didn't take a degree in psychology to notice that there was something in the air when they were both in the same room, something that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your skin tingle. Something like electricity. A connection.
The captain's no-nonsense attitude, her fierce discretion about anything concerning her personal life or her emotions, the very respect she elicited from her crew forbade any further speculation. There had never been rumours or corner talk about the captain and Chakotay, the way there had been about Tom and B'Elanna when they started dating. But, again, Tom was pretty sure he was not the only one to feel that something had been broken when he heard about Chakotay dating Seven. Something, well, something almost like a vow.
At first he even refused to believe it, it just seemed too preposterous, like a bad joke. When finally Chakotay himself confirmed it, he had to accept it. They were were both his comrades, his friends, they had both stood by him in difficult times and accepted his own choices. It was the least that he owed them. But no matter how he tried, he couldn't shake an uneasiness, sort of a sick feeling, even through all the excitement of returning home, the birth of his daughter, ensuing chaos.
That was why he went looking for the captain that day, why he went on Voyager and found her- Tom shook his head violently. B'Elanna, who had fallen into a reverie of her own at his side, was startled out of it by his movement. "What?"
"Nothing. I'm sorry. It's just that..." he sighed. "Well, I suppose it's a good thing."
"What's a good thing?"
"Seven and the captain. That they are talking."
"Yeah. She's doing a lot of talking today, the captain."
"You know what?", Tom said thoughtfully. "I think we needed this more than she did. Whatever her problems were or are, she can work it out. She'll find a way, she always has. This, this get-together, this is for us. So we can check on her, make sure she's all right."
"I guess you're right." She paused. They could hear voices and laughter coming from the garden. Now Chakotay's voice raised above the others, saying something about ice cream. Naomi squealed in delight, and there was the sound of feet running into the house. Tom and B'Elanna caught a glimpse of the captain and Seven leaving the kitchen, smiling as the girl rushed past them. Tom thought they might have been holding hands, but he couldn't be sure.
"Leave something for your mom!", Kathryn called after her.
Tom leaned in to kiss his wife. "You heard the captain. If we don't go out there soon, there won't be anything left. Well, except for the Borg pistachio ice cream dessert, maybe."
B'Elanna nodded, but didn't move. Her expression was serious again.
"Do you think they know?"
"Do I think who knows what?"
"All of them." She gestured with her chin, indicating their crewmates, gathered in the back garden. "You know, about the captain... what happened to her." She was never going to say "what she did to herself". Never.
"Well, Harry knows because I told him, you told Chakotay, and Chakotay told Tuvok. I suppose Chakotay told Seven, too."
"No, I mean, the others, you know, Sam, Vorik, the Delaney's... I don't know, I have this feeling, almost as if... oh, it's probably nonsense", she said, getting up.
"No, it's not. I know what you mean. It's like I said before, as if, for some reason, everyone needed to come here and check on her before... well, getting on with the rest of their lives. I don't think they know exactly what, but they do know that soemthing's not right."
"That something *was* not right." A shadow of worry crept into B'Elanna's face.
"Yeah, was. She'll be ok. There might be a few things she has to work out first, though..."
Chakotay poked his head into the room. "Hey, here you are! I've been looking for you two all over. I don't mean to interrupt a romantic moment or anything, but I thought you'd like to know that Naomi organized something like and ice cream-eating contest, and Miral seems to be winning."
Tom and B'Elanna excahnged a horrified look and ran out of the room. Chakotay was left behind, chuckling. The sun was already setting. A shaft of golden red light shot through the glass door that led to the garden. He closed his eyes. When he heard soft steps behing him, he didn't open them. He knew who it was. He had been waiting.
Comment: The end is near, my friends! And this time I mean it, the last chapter ("Promise") is already written down, I only have to type it into the computer. (By the way, I wrote this at the airport, the plane to Frankfurt was three hours late.)
Not much J/C in this one (a long one!), at least not directly. It's mostly about how other crewmembers see the Kathryn/Chakotay/Seven-situation. There's quite some Tom/B'Elanna stuff in here, and I really like some parts of it, so you *can* skip it, but you might actually enjoy it if you don't.
And yes, I chickened out shamefully. If you read this, you'll know what I mean.
Review: (see above) Come on, tell me so! I deserve it.
Chapter 13: Connection
The living room was deserted, except for one lonely figure, a woman sitting on the central couch. Tom walked up to her from behind, bent down, kissed her neck and whispered: "How come the prettiest girl of the party is sitting here all by herself?"
B'Elanna smiled. "Waiting for just any guy to come and pick me up. I don't see anyone else, so I guess that's you."
Tom flopped over the back of the couch to stretch beside his wife, his head in her lap. He felt a few cracks and creaks in his joints; he could have sworn they weren't there a couple of months ago. He decided he was probably coming down with something, a cold, maybe the flu.
"Lucky me!" B'Elanna put a hand on his head and absent-mindedly ruffled his hair. Tom glanced up at her. She was staring into the distance, obviously lightyears away from the Janeways' couch, their living room, the planet earth. But some of the tension he had noticed building up inside her in the last couple of days was gone. If he had dared to put his head in her lap even the day before, he could probably have played soccer with that same head seconds later. But that the tension seemed to be easing didn't mean she was ready to talk about it. (He wasn't aware that he had taken to call all kinds of events connected with the captain "it" in his mind. An aseptic "it" was as far as he dared to go. He didn't dare recall the memories of what he had seen. He knew he would have to, eventually. But not yet. Not for a long time.)
He decided to be careful. "Where's Miral?"
"Out by the swing with Sam and Naomi. And Harry's out there, too, I think."
"Wasn't Chakotay with Miral a minute ago?"
For the first time she looked directly at him, raising a quizzical eyebrow. "Chakotay and Tuvok went for a walk. And you know perfectly well because you were the one who told me exactly one hour ago."
She tried to make her voice sound annoyed, but she wasn't really. She'd been on edge for days, and he knew that talking about the captain made her nervous. He didn't want her to be unhappy, that was all. She ran her fingers through his hair, with a purpose this time, slowly, tenderly.
"It's all right."
He craned his neck to blink up at her. "It is?"
"Yeah." She paused. "We talked."
"You and the captain?"
"Yes." Another pause. "I feel better now." B'Elanna shook her head. "It's unbelievable. *She* goes through seven kinds of hell, *I* behave like the unsupportive, egotist jerk that I am, and it's still *her* who has to make *me* feel better."
"You're not a jerk. You were just scared, and confused, and angry -"
"*And* unsupportive, *and* unsensitive, *and* an egotist jerk. One would have thought that being a mother would have changed that."
"B'Elanna..."
Tom leaned on an elbow to sit up, but she gently pressed his shoulder until his head fell back into her lap. "No, it's ok, Tom, really. I'm not going to wallow in self pity, don't worry. It's just that I can't believe how... I mean, she's so..." She fought the lump of tears in her throat.
"Yeah, I know. She is."
After a minute, Tom spoke again. "So, where is she, anyway?"
"In the kitchen. I think Seven is showing her some top secret recipe for a Borg pistachio ice cream dessert."
"What!?" Tom jumped up as if he had recieved an electrical discharge.
"Ok, ok, there is no Borg pistachio ice cream dessert. No reason for panic. They are just talking."
"Talking?"
"Yeah, talking." B'Elanna looked at her husband with mild amusement. "Is there a problem, Tom, sweetheart?"
Tom opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally, he managed: "No, no problem. It's just that... well, I was... surprised, I guess, that's all."
"Surprised? And why would you be so surprised, my love?" B'Elanna was barely repressing a broad grin.
"Well... oh, for Gods sake, B'Elanna, *you* know! This is Seven and the captain we're talking about. I thought... well, after everything that's happened, I didn't think I'd ever see the two of them sit together and talk."
"So, you thought they'd give each other the silent treatment for the next fifty years? Maybe have it out with a couple of bat'leths back by the swing?"
"No, of course not. That's not what I meant. What I mean is-"
What do I mean?, he thought. The captain and Seven: that used to be a logical unit. The captain was the one who had taken the decision to keep Seven severed from the collective, she had been her reference, first in her hate, her anger and distrust, then in her growing confidence, her need for help and advice, as a role model, as a friend. And it had not been only Seven who had learned from the other woman, not only her who sought out the other's company. There had been a special connection between them, right from the start. So when, mused Tom, did I start to think of them as antagonists, even enemies, two people who just don't make sense sitting together in the kitchen, talking?
Well, that's an easy one: when Seven started dating Chakotay. And why would that be a problem? Well, it would be if the captain and Chakotay were - well, "together", and Seven had meanly sneaked up and taken Chakotay away from his rightful partner. Which was definitely *not* the case. Chakotay and the captain had never been "together". Well, they were together a lot, of course, it came with the job. So much the better when they actually became friends, so much the better if they could enjoy an occasional informal dinner, or a day off on the holodeck. It was bad enough to have a mixed crew, Starfleet and Maquis thrown together against their will. The captain had taken a great, though calculated risk when she chose the leader of what she then still had to consider "the enemy" as her fist officer.
She trusted him, but there was more than that. Tom was sure he was not the only one to notice. It didn't take a degree in psychology to notice that there was something in the air when they were both in the same room, something that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your skin tingle. Something like electricity. A connection.
The captain's no-nonsense attitude, her fierce discretion about anything concerning her personal life or her emotions, the very respect she elicited from her crew forbade any further speculation. There had never been rumours or corner talk about the captain and Chakotay, the way there had been about Tom and B'Elanna when they started dating. But, again, Tom was pretty sure he was not the only one to feel that something had been broken when he heard about Chakotay dating Seven. Something, well, something almost like a vow.
At first he even refused to believe it, it just seemed too preposterous, like a bad joke. When finally Chakotay himself confirmed it, he had to accept it. They were were both his comrades, his friends, they had both stood by him in difficult times and accepted his own choices. It was the least that he owed them. But no matter how he tried, he couldn't shake an uneasiness, sort of a sick feeling, even through all the excitement of returning home, the birth of his daughter, ensuing chaos.
That was why he went looking for the captain that day, why he went on Voyager and found her- Tom shook his head violently. B'Elanna, who had fallen into a reverie of her own at his side, was startled out of it by his movement. "What?"
"Nothing. I'm sorry. It's just that..." he sighed. "Well, I suppose it's a good thing."
"What's a good thing?"
"Seven and the captain. That they are talking."
"Yeah. She's doing a lot of talking today, the captain."
"You know what?", Tom said thoughtfully. "I think we needed this more than she did. Whatever her problems were or are, she can work it out. She'll find a way, she always has. This, this get-together, this is for us. So we can check on her, make sure she's all right."
"I guess you're right." She paused. They could hear voices and laughter coming from the garden. Now Chakotay's voice raised above the others, saying something about ice cream. Naomi squealed in delight, and there was the sound of feet running into the house. Tom and B'Elanna caught a glimpse of the captain and Seven leaving the kitchen, smiling as the girl rushed past them. Tom thought they might have been holding hands, but he couldn't be sure.
"Leave something for your mom!", Kathryn called after her.
Tom leaned in to kiss his wife. "You heard the captain. If we don't go out there soon, there won't be anything left. Well, except for the Borg pistachio ice cream dessert, maybe."
B'Elanna nodded, but didn't move. Her expression was serious again.
"Do you think they know?"
"Do I think who knows what?"
"All of them." She gestured with her chin, indicating their crewmates, gathered in the back garden. "You know, about the captain... what happened to her." She was never going to say "what she did to herself". Never.
"Well, Harry knows because I told him, you told Chakotay, and Chakotay told Tuvok. I suppose Chakotay told Seven, too."
"No, I mean, the others, you know, Sam, Vorik, the Delaney's... I don't know, I have this feeling, almost as if... oh, it's probably nonsense", she said, getting up.
"No, it's not. I know what you mean. It's like I said before, as if, for some reason, everyone needed to come here and check on her before... well, getting on with the rest of their lives. I don't think they know exactly what, but they do know that soemthing's not right."
"That something *was* not right." A shadow of worry crept into B'Elanna's face.
"Yeah, was. She'll be ok. There might be a few things she has to work out first, though..."
Chakotay poked his head into the room. "Hey, here you are! I've been looking for you two all over. I don't mean to interrupt a romantic moment or anything, but I thought you'd like to know that Naomi organized something like and ice cream-eating contest, and Miral seems to be winning."
Tom and B'Elanna excahnged a horrified look and ran out of the room. Chakotay was left behind, chuckling. The sun was already setting. A shaft of golden red light shot through the glass door that led to the garden. He closed his eyes. When he heard soft steps behing him, he didn't open them. He knew who it was. He had been waiting.