Chapter 10 – Dust to Dust

"You've held your head up
You've fought the fight
You bear the scars
You've done your time
Listen to me
You've been lonely, too long.

Let me in the wall, you've built around
And we can light a match and burn them down.

And let me hold your hand and dance 'round and 'round the flames

In front of us

Dust to dust."

- John White and Joy Williams

=/\=

The morning sun began to creep through the bedroom's window, cascading down in yellows and pinks.

It was a different awakening than Janeway had grown accustomed to. She had become used to waking with the stars and darkness, and the ambient lighting that glowed simulating a rising sun. But this was refreshing and warm, and she turned, and was greeted with a warm body beside her.

Chakotay slept soundly, as if caught in a pleasant dream, and she watched him through slit eyes as she adjusted to the increasing brightness. He was peaceful and calm, and she welcomed the comfort that came with having someone beside her. He was a warm body to crawl into, a welcomed weight to encircle her, a gravity drawing her to his core.

She wished she could join him in his peacefulness. Safe from the thoughts that suddenly flooded her mind. Safe from the unknown, from the afflictions that awaited her.

So much of their future had yet to be determined.

They had told her Chakotay would be safe from a future in chains, that he would be more useful to them in Starfleet than out, and that Janeway could make use of him somewhere. But they refused to ensure the safety of the rest of the Maquis. B'Elanna would be protected. Her only saving grace was her connection to Admiral Paris; that it would not bode well for Starfleet to incarcerate a new mother, and the daughter-in-law of one of Starfleet's finest.

But the rest would be stripped of the rank Janeway had given them, and they would be confined, that their time would be spent on the inside of a cell.

She gripped her bare stomach under the sheets and pulled her legs up to her chest. She felt sick. How little Starfleet knew of their struggle. Of Ayala and Gerron and Chell and Dalby and Henley who exemplified the Starfleet code of conduct. Of Jarvin and and Smithee and Carlson who had trusted her so easily to get them home. Of Hogan and Bendera and Suder and many others who lost their lives protecting their crew mates. Who did so wearing Starfleet colors. They were more than members of her crew. They were her family. They had placed a trust in her and it was time she repay it.

But just how was she to protect them? Keep them safe from the internal system of their governing power, a power that refused to recognize them and their sacrifice. How was she to operate against a side of Starfleet she knew little about?

They had told her of their plans for the remaining Equinox crew. That they would be absolved and were to be released from Starfleet. How easily Starfleet intended to sweep away their assault on the Prime Directive. Trained Starfleet officers who violated their directive, who sacrificed an innocent entity for their own protection.

And even as she seethed with disgust, they formally offered her her promotion.

There was a rumbling coming from the Romulan Neutral Zone and she was to assume the position of Vice Admiral, and the control of the vast project which had already spanned decades. She was to keep an eye on the Romulan Star Empire and its resistance to the Federation, to complete essential reports on the current state of the Romulan Senate.

It was a hopeless case. And she was certainly the next pawn in the long line of Admirals that came before her. How quickly she realized this was merely just another calculated move in their game.

It was clear Starfleet needed a new face for the project. It was a fresh approach, they told her. And she was certain Starfleet found her engagement with the Borg a fine addition to her resume, that surely would not hinder the project's future success.

It was a lot to accept, and a lot of take in at this early hour. She begged her mind to give her peace.

She managed a quiet sigh as she rubbed her eyes, and she turned toward Chakotay's sleeping form which was begging her to seek refuge. She could reach out for him, and shut out the world and the voices inside her head that told her she was certain for failure, that hers was a hopeless case.

Chakotay stirred and his eyes opened slowly. "Hey," he said groggily, a warm smile spreading across his face.

She cleared her throat and turned within the sheets to face him. "Good morning," she replied. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did. I was dreaming."

"And was it a good dream?"

"It was satisfactory." He inched beside her and his hand moved within the sheets to graze across her hip. His hands began to carefully move over her skin. "But this..." He reached to kiss her nose. "This is better."

She sighed. "I could get used to this."

Pulling back slightly, he looked down at her. "That's the plan, isn't it?"

She moved to curl her head beneath his chin and wrapped her arms around him for reassurance. "I woke up yesterday alone, in my bed on Voyager, and now..." She moved her hands across his back, rolling over thick muscles. His skin was warm and soft. "And now this."

Chakotay moved to rest on his back, folding one arm under his head, and she moved with him to curl her head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her, fingertips softly trailing her skin.

"I can't remember the last time someone held me like this," she confessed.

He brought his hand to her head and started to run his fingers through her hair slowly. "That's a shame." Fingertips found her earlobe and he gently traced its line.

"It was a luxury I couldn't afford. Not if I was to maintain that ship." She draped one arm across his chest, played carefully with the skin at his side. "But I never believed I would actually be here."

"Well that makes two of us." He let his hand begin to trail along her neck. "I never thought you'd give me the chance to hold you."

She sighed again, heavier this time, and pulled herself tightly against his body.

The tension was beginning to resonate along her shoulders, and she worried he could sense the weight she felt; could read it through his hands that moved carefully over her skin. He was the only thing she had left. The only thing she could tether to. What if something would take him from her? Take his hands from her body. Hands that seemed to know her; that lovingly seemed to heal as they enticed.

"Can you tell me what's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?" he asked, breaking the silence, touch carefully moving across her hairline.

She turned to look up at him. She placed a finger to the cleft in his chin. "Nothing gets by you."

"Not when it comes to you." He moved down to rest beside her, adjusting her in his arms, and continued to brush the hair from her face. "So what is it? How can I help?" The words affectionately fell from his lips as if he were saying, 'I love you'.

That was her Chakotay.

He never once asked to be her savior. He always sought out what he could do to ease her burden, so they could tackle the unknown together. For theirs was a foundation built on trust, on words shared between them, never needing to be spoken.

"You can't help me," she confessed. A look of sadness spread across her brow. "Not yet at least."

"Ok." He blinked slowly and offered her a slight smile. "But you could always just tell me what you want to do and I'll try to talk you out of it. For old times sake?"

"And we'll do it my way anyways?"

"If memory serves me right, that's generally how it goes."

"But there's the problem."

"What is?"

"I don't know my way. For the first time in a long time."

"We have handled so many things before." He placed a hand on her bare shoulder. "Let me help."

"I'm sorry. I need to do this on my own."

From the way his eyes hardened and his lips pressed together, she could tell he was hurt. But he nodded, and he kissed her brow.

"All right." He lifted himself on his elbow, hovering close to her. A fingertip trailed across her collar bone. "But I'm here. When you need me. Always."

Her hands found his face and she pulled him down toward her. Finding his lips quickly, she kissed him heatedly, letting her hands move down his body to pull him against her. He braced against the bed.

She could feel him pressed against her leg, hard and aching, and she reached down to grip him firmly in her palm. She felt his lips overcome with a smile and their teeth clicked together. But his kiss eventually slowed, and he pulled from her lips and pressed his cheek against hers. He released a heavy breath.

"I'm going to have a long, hot shower," she breathed softly against his ear, moving her hand along his shaft. "Care to join me?"

He groaned, and his hands moved down her body, to reach beneath her and cup her ass. His voice was a hoarse whisper. "As much as I am tempted, I have a prior engagement."

"I'm sorry?" she asked, her voice deepening as she released her grip. "Engagement with what?" She inhaled. "With who?"

He smiled, flattered by her jealousy, and he shifted, placing himself back on his elbow, his palm to her flat stomach. "It's a surprise."

"A surprise," she repeated. Her eyes narrowed as she wore a quizzical look.

His smile widened, teeth showing. "Have your shower, and I will be finished by the time you get out."

The hot water trailed her body, soothing tired muscles, rejuvenating her skin. She closed her eyes as she lowered her head, letting the water flood over her, drowning her hearing in its rush. She braced her hands, palms flat, against the tile in front of her, and let her mind wander, begging for freedom from her current thoughts, begging a dream to take her under.

There would be long roads lined with tall trees of various shades of green, between fields of golden wheat where the wind played. The old stone house from her youth with the battered, large oak tree in the front yard which refused to surrender to time and natural elements. Two Irish Setters would lie sleeping on a wooden porch weathered by the sun and the rain.

Another structure made of large wooden logs stood behind the house where one of its large doors remained open. Her hands smelled of dirt, of the earth, and her bare feet moved over the freshly cut soft grass, warm from the sun.

She crept into the darkened structure, begging her eyes to adjust to the dim environment. A few beams of sunlight shone from the windows high above. The thick figure of a man was before her and as she crept toward him, she reached out with a shaky hand. And as he turned –

The daydream vanished within a cloud, leaving her as quickly as it started. She opened her eyes.

She quickly washed, and turned off the water. Exiting the small, tiled stall, she draped a large towel around her body, and wrapped her hair tightly in another.

Chakotay's bag lay on the bed. Neat stacks of clothing lay beside the bag, no doubt retrieved from his unit on the far end of the row. She dressed quickly, pulling a robe from her own luggage that was delivered prior to their arrival.

It was when she turned the corner that the smell hit her senses. Her eyes opened wide to the familiar smell. She blinked slowly, and welcomed it like a long, lost friend.

His back to her, Chakotay was busy at the kitchenette preparing breakfast. But he sensed her immediately, and turned - a vintage French Press with freshly made coffee in his hand.

"Is that-?" she began as she gingerly walked toward him, finger drawn, afraid to take her eyes off the press.

"Completely real. Completely fresh." He placed two mugs down on the island that separated the kitchenette from the small dining area.

"How did you-?" She watched as he poured the dark liquid, as steam started to erupt from the cup.

"I called in a favor from an old friend. He took care of it for me."

She raised the cup and inhaled, wanting to wrap her body around it. She looked up as it hit her lips, met his eyes as he watched her attentively.

She let it roll down her throat slowly, lost in the pure heaven of its freshness. She took another sip. It was smooth and nutty, with hints of chocolate undertones, and held next to no bitterness or burnt flavor. Quickly, the many years of replicated coffee were erased from her memory.

"Good?"

She lowered the mug and reached for his shirt pulling him toward her. He obliged and accepted her kiss, placing a hand to her hip. His lips were salty, and she dipped her tongue between his teeth, carefully searching.

When she pulled from him, he licked his lips. "It is good," he remarked, reaching to pour himself a cup.

He moved to the small stove against the wall where he had frying pans on lit burners, where a baking sheet sat with corn and red peppers carefully displayed. He lightly drizzled oil on top of them. She looked to the side where sliced, fresh avocado and radishes sat on a cutting board.

She gasped. "Are these your delectable breakfast tacos?"

"Correct."

"You don't have to go through all this trouble." She pointed to the wall adjacent the kitchenette, where an unfamiliar upgraded model sat within the wall. "We have a replicator."

He turned toward her, and shook his head. "But it's our first day together." He opened the oven and placed the baking sheet within it. He turned toward her, and reached out to place his two hands on her hips. "I want it to be special."

"Ah," she began. "About that." She looked up slowly. "I was going to go see my mother and sister today."

His lips pursed and he nodded. "I guess I'm on my own."

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head and then leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "They must be anxious to see you."

"And I'll need to call Mark." She sipped from her cup.

"Right." He released his hands from her body. "I suppose you should. Dinner then?"

She nodded. "You're on."

He turned to busy himself at the sink, looking out the window in front of him to the street.

She moved to the dining table to see a vast array of PADDs scattered over the surface. She was unfamiliar with some of their models and types, but she picked up two of them.

"What's all this?" she questioned.

He turned from washing his hands and grabbed a towel. "I had my friend drop off a few offers for plots of land just outside the city that are available, along with a few houses that might be of interest to us."

She looked down at the PADDs in her hands.

When she was a little girl she never dreamed of settling down and resting in one place. At night she would look up at the sky, wondering which cluster of stars her father was closest to, and begged to join him. Her forever was command and Starfleet and ships flying with the stars.

She would ignore her friends when they spoke of their forevers. She found comfort in her books, and would rather dive into her studies, letting them take up all her spare time.

But as hard as she tried to ignore it, there were first loves and first tragic losses. There was vulnerability, and there was healing.

But then there was Mark. And there was an engagement that she fell into, because, maybe, it was something you did when you were heading on your first away mission. She had already risked her forever with Mark. And that was a failure.

But now there was Chakotay. There was devotion. There was trust. There was someone who knew her so deeply; the only person who could disarm her with a smile. And what she had worried about was true – he was miles ahead of her in his domestic dream, falling so easily within its grip.

And now there was risk involved. Now the fear of losing everything gripped her chest tightly, that she struggled to breathe.

She looked up at him, and his face fell into despair.

"What?"

"That's moving a bit quick, isn't it?" she questioned. "We've just started out."

"Is it?" he scoffed, and moved to her side. "Hasn't it been seven years?"

She was motionless.

He reached forward and began to place the PADDs into a pile. "Sorry," he confessed. "I just thought you'd want something bigger than this." His hands moved about, motioning around the confined quarters.

She had hurt him again, she knew it. For the second time that day, she had broken the walls protecting his happiness, dragging him with her into her gloom, her fear of forever. She could not let herself do this to him. Especially now, when she needed him the most.

Her shoulders softened and she reached over to run a hand across his back. "No, I'm sorry. It's a nice thought. But you need to let me catch up to you."

He nodded sadly. "I understand. I'll return them."

"No," she said, and she held his hand still. "Chakotay, leave them. I will take a look."

Her eyes looked up to see a PADD, familiar with her aboard Voyager. She moved her hand toward it. "And this one?"

He frantically took it from her grip, and turned the PADD off as she attempted to look. "Nothing. Just a work in progress."

"I take it I can't see it?"

"No. It's not ready yet." And off her desperate look. "They may or may not be plans for our first date."

Her expression changed to pleasant surprise and she noticed another PADD on the table. "And this?" She pointed. "Another part of your plan?"

He sighed and picked it up, holding it against his chest. He looked down at the image that flashed for him. "My friend dropped this off too. Something that is making the headlines today."

As worry spread to her face, he turned the PADD and gave it to her. She looked down as the images flashed across the screen on an endless loop, creating a perfect video.

There they were, on a balcony drenched in soft moonlight, held to each other in a loving embrace. The Captain of the once lost USS Voyager, on her tip toes, lips locked in an intimate kiss with her First Officer.

STARFLEET SCANDAL: FAIRYTALE ENDING FOR STAR-CROSSED LOVERS, read the headline.

He edged to stand beside her and tilted the PADD in her hands to direct the images toward him. His hand found her lower back, his lips her temple. "Well, at least they captured my good side."

=/\=

She held her breath as she inputted the ten digit interface code on the computer in front of her. The number engrained in her memory, flooded through her onto the keypad at her fingertips. The screen flashed and she exhaled while the dial began.

It was quicker than she remembered, and as the final push of breath escaped her lips, Mark Johnson's face flashed before her.

His eyes were wide. His smile, small and thin lipped. He blinked and tilted his head toward the monitor in front of him.

"I was wondering when you might call," he said. The familiar voice resonated in her ears, struck her core with familiarity, erasing many years of longing.

"Here I am," she returned, raising her eyebrow. "Calling."

"There you are."

His hair was whiter than she remembered, and thick facial hair now graced his face, a flecked salt and pepper. He leaned back in his chair, studying the image she presented to him. She suddenly felt exposed. Was he taking her in? What was he thinking? Was she the image he envisioned when he closed his eyes?

If he had even thought about her still.

"You okay?" she asked, choking out the words.

"I am," he lowered his eyes, played with something in his hands. "It's miraculous to see you." He looked up, eyes brimming. "Like seeing…"

"A ghost?"

"I was going to say a long lost, friend." He took a deep breath pausing, and leaned forward his elbows on the desk in front of him. "You look good, Kath."

"Liar."

He flashed a familiar playful smile, and instantly 70,000 light-years did not feel so far. Seven years did not feel like a vast journey.

"I'm serious," he continued, lowering his voice playfully. "You sure you were lost out there?"

"You need to have your monitor cleaned." She looked down, played with a fingernail. "Trust me, the years have not been kind."

He paused. His face grew serious, the playfulness leaving his face instantly. His voice deepened. "How are you doing?"

"I'm getting my bearings." She smiled, opened her mouth, but no words emerged.

"What?" he urged.

"It's funny." She took a sharp inhale. "I thought I was lost before. Truth is, I'm more lost now." She looked up and his face softened. "I could use an old friend," she confessed.

He sighed. "Come for dinner, Kath. We can talk. Mollie misses you."

Dinner. Toasting her return over wine, with the life she could have had. Their perfect family. His wife. His boys chasing Mollie in the backyard of their suburban home. A wife to cook him dinner and give him his lineage. A family surrounded by perfect happiness.

It was something she could not give him.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for that," she said finally.

"All right. But my offer stands." He smiled genuinely. Reached forward to place his hands on either side of the monitor, as if he was reaching out for her. It was the closest she had been to him since she said goodbye and left for Deep Space Nine. "It's good to see you."

She reached forward returning the gesture. Placing her hands on either side of the camera. Her voice lowered, and in a whisper she said, "You too."

The screen blipped and the tone ended. The room fell into an eerie silence no longer humming with their conversation. Janeway ran her hands over her face and sat back in her chair.

Chakotay poked his head around the corner into the bedroom, no doubt aware of the new silence in the room.

"Ah," she said. "The eavesdropper."

"In fact, I was not." He approached her, and leaned against the small desk she sat at. "Correction: I only heard the last bit."

"The good to see you?"

"The invitation to dinner."

Jealously began to creep into Chakotay's features, and she smiled.

"I'd be happy to be your plus-one," he told her. "You know, just in case."

"Just in case I fall back into his loving embrace."

"That's not what I mean. I meant if it would make it easier on you."

"Ah, you mean seeing the life I would have had."

Chakotay offered no reply.

"I'll be fine." She stood up from her chair and he immediately took her hands. "I spent years with this man. I don't need a chaperone."

=/\=

The shuttle pulled to a gentle stop outside the long, pebbled lane leading up to the old stone house. Janeway lifted the hatch door open and stepped out. The engines quietly hummed as the shuttle engaged its thrusters, leaving her behind in a light dust.

The sun was hot, the air stifled, and she was happy she had selected a light, cream colored cotton button up, and a light flowing pant for the occasion.

Her mother's house, once her grandfather's, stood on the several acred property, just outside the city limits of Bloomington, Indiana, far enough away from the hovering of shuttles, the bustle of crowds. The air was fresh and the wheat was getting tall, anxiously waiting to be harvested.

It was not far up the lane when she decided to remove her thonged sandals and opt to walk in the freshly cut grass on the side of the lane. She took a second to stop and grip the ground with her toes. She closed her eyes and let the air fill her lungs.

There was the familiar creak of a screen door ahead of her, and light footsteps on a wooden porch.

"You cut your hair," a voice called out.

Janeway put a hand up to shield her eyes as they narrowed. "Hi to you too, Mom."

Gretchen Janeway dressed in a light purple tee and black capris pants, draped her towel over her shoulder and descended the steps. Reaching her daughter quickly, she took her in her arms. "Welcome home, Katie."

Her mother squeezed her tightly and rocked her gently, placing a hand to the back of Janeway's head. When Janeway pulled back, Gretchen placed her palms to her daughter's face and smiled, tears falling from her eyes. "My Katie."

"Hi Mom," Janeway whispered.

There was a noticeable change to her mother's face. Gone was the smoothness Janeway remembered, now replaced with time and wisdom. Janeway focused on a few lines at the side of her mother's eyes and wondered how many of these were her fault.

How many were created from her anxiety, from her sadness. From the heartache of losing a daughter, and a part of herself. How she wished she could erase them, steal them back from time. Erase the pain of her decision to fly amongst the stars and head to the unknown out of her mother's control, just like her father had done before her.

She kissed her mother's cheek and pulled her into her arms again. She was thin and Janeway could feel the bones of her shoulder blades as she wrapped her arms around her.

"I knew you'd come home," a voice called out behind her mother. Janeway looked up to see her sister, Phoebe, emerging from the house. She wore a simple long, loose flowing, grey dress with thin straps. No shoes were on her feet. Her hands were dark from being in the dirt.

"What?" Janeway said, leaving her mother's embrace. "Did you see it in your magic crystals?"

Phoebe Janeway stopped short in front of her. Her grey eyes narrowed, and she raised her chin. "They don't work like that." She smiled shaking her head and took her Janeway in her arms emphatically. "But I knew. I just knew."

Phoebe pulled back and her hands moved to her sister's hair. She played with a few ends between her fingertips. "Mom's right. Why would you cut your hair?"

"It's easier to manage." She playfully pushed her sister's hand away. "Besides I didn't exactly have the luxury of a hairdresser in the Delta Quadrant."

=/\=

The sisters were seated at an island in the middle of the large farm kitchen, talking over coffee, watching their mother putter to and fro preparing the night's dinner. Fresh herbs hung from strings by the window. The house smelt like sage and rosemary.

Their old family tabby cat lay in the midday's sun streaming in from the large bay windows at the front of the house. Occasionally, she would look up at Janeway, with her one good eye, examining her suspiciously.

"What does Starfleet want to do with you now?" her mother asked refilling her coffee cup.

"They want to give me Vice Admiral."

"Oh!" her mother exclaimed, relieved with the news. "How wonderful! Your father would be so proud of you, Katie."

"It's a desk job, Mom," Janeway returned flatly.

Phoebe looked up at her, clearly knowing from her tone that Janeway was not thrilled by the promotion. Her grey eyes shone brightly, she pressed her lips tightly together, giving her a slight wink. It was clear, Phoebe was to revisit this news at a later time.

Gretchen turned towards the kitchen sink. "I don't know. A little time on solid ground might do you some good."

"If you say so."

Gretchen pulled the towel from her shoulder and dried her hands. "I wish you would please consider settling down, Katie." She turned to playfully glare at Phoebe. "I'm still waiting for my grandbabies."

"Don't look at me!" Phoebe's hands came up in front of her. "I was close to your vision of a domestic life. You remember Trevor."

"Mom, please." Janeway interjected. She sat back in her chair and rolled her eyes

"Trevor!" Her mother continued. "We were all lucky that didn't pan out." Gretchen braced herself against the island, palms down, and Janeway smiled seeing the familiar stance.

"And Kylie," Gretchen continued, tilting her head toward Phoebe. "She ran for the hills."

"Wait. Who's Trevor?" Janeway asked.

"My former lover."

Gretchen scoffed. "An idiot," she murmured under her breath.

"And Kylie?" Janeway questioned.

"Ah, well." Phoebe smiled and offered her sister a slight wink. "She was merely an infatuation."

"I expect the juicy details later," Janeway mumbled just loud enough for her sister to hear.

Gretchen sighed, and she motioned toward Janeway. "Come, help with the chopping."

Janeway obliged, standing, adjusting her shirt, and turned to the sink to wash her hands.

"Have you talked to Mark?" Gretchen asked, lifting a full chicken into a medium-sized pan.

Janeway took the towel from her mother's shoulder. "I did. I talked to him this morning."

"And how is he doing?"

"He is fine, Mom." She replaced the towel back on her mother's shoulder.

Gretchen moved to the sink. "I've always liked Mark."

Janeway remained tight-lipped and she turned to her sister, who shrugged.

Phoebe leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm."What's going on with your First Officer? What's his name?"

"Chakotay."

"Right. What's going on? Spill the beans, Kat."

Her mother scoffed. "Let's hope this one sticks."

"It's... " Janeway began, as she picked up a peeled carrot to slice, but she was lost for words. How could she sum up what he meant to her? How he had been steadfast, and constant through the years. How she could not have done it without him. How he was an integral part of her life now. How his hands felt on her body.

How she was his Warrior Woman.

"No, no, not like that!" Gretchen hollered out pulling the knife from Janeway's hands. She sighed clearly frustrated. "They can teach you how to fly a space craft armed with torpedoes, but they can't teach you how to properly chop a carrot?"

"We had replicators, Mom."

"Replicators," she scoffed. "Cuisine is a lost art. Fastest way to get to your father's heart was my cooking." She took the carrot from her daughter and began to make perfectly aligned cuts. "But we'll fix you up. Yes, we will." Gretchen left the carrot and went back to prepping the chicken. She continued mumbling to herself. "Send her to the Badlands. She can't even cook."

Leaving her mother to brood, Janeway took the moment to steal away, and climbed the creaky stairs to the upstairs rooms. She edged down the hall and squeezed into the second room on the right. The door softly creaked as she opened it.

Trophies lined small shelves in front of her above a large wooden desk. They sat neatly organized, exactly as she had placed them, not gathering dust as her mother had clearly cleaned recently.

She pulled out the desk's drawer and started emptying its contents onto the desk. When the drawer was empty, she reached within and looped a finger in a small hole and pulled the false bottom from its place. Inside, a dried rose and an old leather-bound diary sat there. She picked them up and began flipping through the pages of the book. She moved to take a seat on her old bed.

There was a slight knock on the door and it creaked louder as Phoebe opened it fully. Her sister crossed her arms leaning against the door frame. "You know, the anger spells are becoming more frequent. I think her mind is starting to go."

"You think so?"

"She forgets simple things all the time now." Her sister looked down at her feet. "I think some days it worked in her favor. She could forget you were gone. But then she would remember. And I'd know because she'd get real quiet. And that's when I would find her in here. Cleaning. Like part of her still thought you would come home to it. Even after the memorial."

"I'm sorry, Phoebe. It must have been hard."

"Yeah." She moved to take a seat on the bed beside her. "But you're home now."

Janeway looked down at her hands, and spread them across a page where she had written about Mark. About days they would have together, running through the farm fields. Getting lost with each other in the tall wheat.

"You wanna talk about it?" Phoebe asked. "About what's going on in that brilliant mind of yours?"

Janeway faked a smile. She looked up at her sister with tears in her eyes. "I'm lost, Pheebs. And I don't know what to do."

"With Starfleet?"

"With everything."

"Chakotay..." Phoebe trailed. "It's serious, isn't it? You're in love with him?"

"Yeah..." Janeway relished in the immediate relief of her admission. "I have been for a long time now. Perhaps even before Mark let me go." There was spite in her voice and her sister picked up on it.

"You can't blame him, Kat."

"I don't." She closed the book placing it beside her on the bed and brought her hands to her face. "It's just... I've been doing a lot of grieving lately." She turned to Phoebe, her voice was barely audible. "I thought I was going to die out there."

Phoebe watched her sister's lips pull into a pout, and her chin wrinkled. She pulled her into her arms and hugged her. "But you didn't. You're here now." She ran her hand over the back of Janeway's hair soothing her. "And you have a fresh start?"

"I don't know about that."

Phoebe wiped a few tears from Janeway's face as she soothed. "The way I see it, your path is pretty clear. Starfleet and this hunk of man on your arm."

"It's not that easy."

"And why not?"

"Starfleet isn't what they make it out to be."

"So make it the way it should be."

"You sound like dad."

"Good! One of us has to be." Phoebe pulled back and Janeway straightened. "You have always been Starfleet, Kat. You've always been good at it. You were always the one to follow in dad's footsteps."

"I was foolish then. I didn't know what it really entailed. The lies and deceit."

"I think you're making excuses. Because you're afraid."

Janeway's eyes opened wide. "Excuse me?!"

"For the first time in your life, you're afraid to take a chance. For the first time in your life it isn't easy."

Janeway scoffed. "Oh that's ripe."

Phoebe took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap. "Your childhood was easy. School was easy. Starfleet was easy. Mark was easy." She tilted her head. "And now Starfleet isn't easy. Real love isn't easy. Life isn't easy. And you think you're lost because it isn't easy."

More tears rolled down Janeway's cheeks. "No part of the last seven years was easy."

Phoebe ignored her and continued. "And you've grown. It shows. You're more vulnerable now. You're heart is more vulnerable. But you're ready to live. Take life by the figurative balls and run." Phoebe smiled. "So run, Kat. Run."

"But I'm lost, Pheebs."

"No, you're not lost. It just sounds to me like you've just been lonely for too long." She lifted her hand and pulled a few stray strands of hair from Janeway's face. "And maybe Chakotay has been too. And maybe all you need is each other. Sounds to me like that will be enough."

"I don't know."

"Did you ask him?"

"I can't."

"Because you'd seem vulnerable." She nodded. "Not everything is a meticulous, calculated move. Sometimes you have to lead with your heart." She watched Janeway shake her head, covering her face with her hands again. "Look." She took her sister's hands from her face. "I've had my share of failures, and to me, it sounds like this Chakotay is worth the risk."

Janeway's brow furrowed. "Do you always have to be like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're seeing right through me. Reading me like a book."

"It's because I know you so well." She sighed. "I just can't see why you can't have it all." She ran a hand down Janeway's arm. "What's with the sudden doubt? For as long as I've known you, you have never second guessed yourself."

Janeway shook her head and looked down at her hands. "Maybe it's like you said, because it's not easy. And I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

Of losing him.

She begged the words to come from her mouth, but they refused, and her lips remained sealed. Tears escaped her again, and Phoebe reassured her with the touch to her arm. She nodded and wiped her sister's face.

Janeway could tell she did not need to say it; her sister already knew her truth.

"I think you just need to take some time on your own. Get your thoughts together. But trust yourself. Your problem isn't as hard as you make it out to be."

"It's not?"

Phoebe wrapped an arm around Janeway's shoulders and drew her closely to her again. "You're in love, Kat. Plain and simple. And I think he has affected you more than you care to admit."

A noise came from the kitchen, pots crashing and their mother cursing.

"Come on," Phoebe said lifting from the bed. "We better go help Mom."

Janeway stood hand when she reached the door, her sister turned and held her by the shoulders.

"Admiral Janeway," Phoebe said proudly. "You were always going to be the one to carry the torch for this family, Kat." She smiled warmly. "And Mom's right - Dad would have been so damn proud."

=/\=

It was well past eleven when Janeway left her sister and her mother seated outside by a fire, and called for a shuttle to take her into the city to be teleported to Starfleet Headquarters. Transportation was easier at this hour, most travelers home and nestled in their beds.

She arrived at Starfleet Headquarters seconds later, emerging from the teleportation gateway. Now close to nine o'clock, only a few stars managed to work their way through the bright lights of the city.

She walked down the long street of tightly packed units, stopping short just as she crossed a small garden. She looked up at the end-unit. All but one window were dark.

She hesitated slightly, and then continued to walk to her unit. When she reached it, she entered the numbers on the keypad and the door opened for her.

"Lights," she commanded and immediately the room's ambient lighting glowed in soft white.

She sighed, and walked toward the dinning area.

Long stemmed pink roses sat in fresh water in a vase in the center of a table, where white tapered candles had been burning on either side of them.

A single meal sat covered and she lifted it, seeing the dinner he had prepared for them.

A PADD sat beside the bouquet and she picked it up, and turned it on. She scrolled through the pages of plans until she saw the final schematic - a boat for their first date.

She smiled sadly, heart broken that she had deprived him of this moment.

There was a soft, knock at the door and she turned, PADD in hand. With her head lowered, she reached to open the door. Her eyes slowly raised. She expected to see anger in his face, but concern was the only emotion he showed.

There he was. Even now as she seemingly pushed him away, when they were on the verge of being even closer, he was still there, supporting her, ever faithfully.

How did she get so lucky?

"Forgive me," she pleaded softly. "I ruined your evening."

He covered whatever hurt he had with a slight smile. "It's fine." He waved her off. "You can just reheat it."

She moved aside so he could enter. "These plans, Chakotay..."

"What do you think?"

"I think it's lovely. I can't wait." She scrolled through a few more pages of his plan.

"I've been thinking about that boat since we left New Earth," he confessed.

She raised her eyes slowly. "Me too."

Chakotay inhaled deeply, dimples graced his cheeks. "How is your mom? Your sister?" he asked genuinely.

"Good," Janeway placed the PADD down at the kitchenette and walked toward him. "My mother welcomed her prodigal daughter back with open arms, then continued to give me a life lesson over dinner."

"That's good," he remarked. "Did a cooking lesson accompany the meal?"

She playfully slapped his arm. "Funny."

"It's not a joke." He mumbled avoiding her sideways playful glare.

She placed her palms on his chest. His hands found her hips. "So you know, my sister approves of you."

He smiled. "I like her already." He bent forward, kissed her cheek. "Did you want me to stay tonight?"

"No," she stopped herself short. "Yes." She pulled herself into his arms, placed her cheek to his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm a mess right now. I think I need some time alone,"

"Okay," her brought a hand to the back of her hair. "But remember you promised you weren't going anywhere."

She pulled back and wrapped her arms around him. She met his eyes. "I'll be here. Always." she repeated, back to him. "I just need to sort out the mess that is my head right now."

He released her body, taking her face in his hands. "Kathryn Janeway, you are the strongest, determined, strong-willed, intelligent..." He paused smiling. "...beautiful woman I have ever known." He pressed his forehead to hers. "You're not giving yourself enough credit. You're stronger than you think you are."

"I don't feel it. Not now."

"Then you'll just have to trust me," he continued. "Like you have done so many times before."

He kissed her softly, lips warm and sweet. And when his hands left her face, he turned to the door, opening it, and headed out into the night.

She edged out after him, onto the small step and looked up at the sky, eyes scanning, searching for the right star to wish upon.

Regardless of how Starfleet felt about an Admiral and an ex-Maquis together, she wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in beautiful sin with him. She wanted to run to him now, tell him to come back inside so she could crawl in his safety, and let the stars and moonlight drape across their skin.

She watched as he made it to the end of the path, and turned to look at her.

Even after all these years, she was still amazed with how he looked at her; like she was the only one in the world that existed. That the rest of the world could fade away into nothingness and he would be satisfied, as long as she was with him.

And she would be happy too, if the only thing that remained was the way his eyes softened when he saw her.

"You know," she called out to him. "I wish I could be the way you see me"

"Oh, darling." His teeth shone bright in the darkness. "You are."

Coming Soon: Chapter 11