A/N: This is a repost of an old fic. This was written in response to the Dephlic Expanse's June 2011 word prompt: "midnight confessions." Special thanks to Honeybee for beta services.

NEW DREAMS

Jon sipped his bourbon and glanced around the bar. It was a quiet place near his home, the kind that seemed to attract souls looking for a little solitude rather than socialization. Though he heard snatches of hushed conversations, most of the other patrons were nursing their drinks with the same pensive expression he was sure he wore.

The hour was late, almost midnight, and Jon should probably go back to his apartment, but he was too wired to sleep. The war was over now, treaties signed and his Enterprise in spacedock to for a much needed overhaul.

No. Not his Enterprise anymore.

It seemed as if his whole life had been about that ship—building it, taking it to the stars, using it more than once to save his world from annihilation. But that chapter was closing in his life, whether he wanted it to or not, and Jon felt rudderless, drifting into a new phase without real purpose.

Of course, he was an admiral now—or would be after the ceremony tomorrow—but he never pictured himself flying a desk and leaving the stars to younger men and women. It was the folly of youth, this belief that he'd go on forever, sitting in the command chair of the Enterprise, discovering what lay beyond the boundaries of known space. He snorted. The foolish dreams of the young. What was left for him now?

"Another, Captain?" The bartender's voice drew Jon from his musings.

He smiled. He wasn't wearing his uniform, but there didn't seem to be a soul on Earth who didn't know his face. Anonymity was a luxury he lost when he took command of the first Warp 5 ship.

"No, thanks. I think I'm going to call it a night." He pulled a few credits from his pocket and tossed them on the bar.

"Have a good night." The bartender took Jon's glass and credits in a single motion before walking off to take care of another customer.

Jon eased out of his stool, his stiff legs reminding him that he wasn't as young as he thought he was. Funny thing, that. In his mind, he'd stopped aging at some point, but his body didn't get the message. He barked a mirthless laugh, understanding suddenly why his grandparents always seemed to want to sit and stew about the "good old days" instead of making the most of what life they had left. Was that half-existence what Jon was heading toward? Still breathing, but trapped in a perpetual loop of reminiscing about his glory days?

He shook the depressing thought from his mind. Dammit, he was only forty-eight. There were still plenty of years left to him for adventure. Maybe he wouldn't find it at the helm of a starship, but he'd make new dreams, break into other unknown territory. Jon wasn't dead yet, and he wasn't about to live like he was.

The air was cool and damp as he stepped out of the building. Across the street, the ocean rose and fell in gentle waves. The repetitive sound, though different from the humming pulse of warp engines that Jon had grown accustomed to, was calming all the same. He decided to walk the pier before heading home.

It wasn't far, only a mile. His boots made a thump-thump as he traversed across the planks. He wondered when being planet-bound would stop feeling so foreign, when the symphony of nature would no longer sound exotic to ears that had become attuned to the electronic cacophony of a starship. Jon had once been so intent on exploring the glittering void of space, that he realized now that he'd never truly explored the world that bore him.

Ahead, at the end of the pier, Jon saw a lone figure silhouetted in the moonlight. He stopped, thinking he might turn around to give the other privacy, but stood still when the figured turned. The dim light illuminated familiar features that he had memorized long ago.

"Hoshi," he murmured. The young woman he had convinced to become his comm officer, despite her fear of space. She wasn't so young anymore—nor so fearful. He had watched her push past her self-imposed limitations to do incredible feats. He had known she was capable, always believed it, but even he had been surprised by the tenacity that had emerged from the once timid Hoshi.

Her eyes lighted on him, and an easy smile spread across her full lips. He thought she said his name, but the sound of her voice was lost in the din of the tide against the wooden posts. She motioned for him to join her, and Jon crossed the short distance between them.

"Captain—or Admiral, now," she said, giving him a brief hug. "What are you doing out at this hour?"

He grinned, glad to have her surprise companionship on a night when he'd been plagued with brooding thoughts. "It's Jon, and I could ask you the same question."

She shrugged and nodded toward the sky. "I've forgotten what they looked like from here. The stars, I mean."

Jon took in the twinkling lights. She was right, they were different—motionless, timeless. He looked down at Hoshi; her eyes were still on the skyline. She had only gotten more beautiful with age, this woman who had become a close friend. He'd always found her attractive, but he'd always been her commanding officer.

"It's strange how I used to think I'd never get used to living on a starship," she said, bringing her eyes to his. "Now I don't know if I'll get used to living on Earth."

He raised his brows. "You're not shipping out again?"

She shook her head. "No. It wouldn't be the same without…" Her words trailed off as she turned away. A soft sigh escaped her lips. "I've been offered a job teaching at the academy. I'm taking it."

Jon nodded, feeling strangely relieved that she was going to be close by. "You'll do great."

Hoshi smiled again. "You've always had confidence in me."

"What kind of captain would I be if I didn't know what my crew was capable of?" He leaned against the railing. "You're pretty damn exceptional, Hoshi."

"You're no slouch, yourself." She bit her lip. "Do you want to hear something funny?"

"Sure."

She bowed her head and her shoulder-length hair fell across her face. Jon felt the urge to reach out and brush it back. He became aware that the non-frat barrier no longer existed between them, and he felt as if he were truly seeing her for the first time.

"I used to have the worst crush on you." Her voice was so soft, he almost didn't hear the words.

He didn't know what to make of that. A part of him was flattered that she had thought of him that way, but the words "used to" bothered him. That implied that she'd grown out of it, which was probably natural, but now that he was allowed to treat her as something more than a junior officer and friend…

"Silly, huh?" She looked up at him, and even in the dim light, he could see the color on her cheeks. There was something in her expression that told Jon that maybe she still harbored some feelings toward him. Or that might just be wishful thinking on his part.

"No, it's not silly." He wasn't sure what to say next. He couldn't admit the same, as much as he'd been attracted to her over the years. He'd never let his thoughts stray further than that—Starfleet had always come first, the mission, the ship, saving the planet, bringing worlds together.

He cleared his throat. "So, not anymore?" Was it the alcohol that was making him feel bold? Everything seemed hushed as he waited for her answer. He might have held his breath as well.

Hoshi's cheeks darkened. "Well, maybe it lingers a little."

Something awakened inside of him, as if her words were the permission he needed to look at her as Hoshi, the woman. His attraction to her spiked, fed not just by her physical beauty, but the history they'd shared over the last ten years—her friendship, her constant support and belief in him, her laughter, her joy of life even in the midst of war.

He straightened and caressed her cheek. "Hoshi," he whispered. There was so much to say, and words were failing him. "I'm not your captain anymore." His heart pounded against his ribcage.

She covered his hand with hers. "I know, Jon." Her fingers twined with his and she stepped closer to him.

He swept the hair away from her face with his free hand, and before he could have second thoughts, he leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were soft against his, perfect, as though nature had always meant for them to come together. She wound her arms around his neck, her fingers stroking his hair and sending tingles down his spine. He was filled with a need for more; he wanted to drink her in, make her a part of him.

Finally the need to breathe became too great, and he reluctantly broke off the kiss. He smiled down at her as he touched his forehead to hers. "Do you want to get some coffee?"

Hoshi tilted her head back and laughed. "That would be nice."

Jon kissed her forehead and grinned as they walked down the pier hand-in-hand. He'd been searching for a new direction, for new dreams to explore, and he realized that he may have found just that tonight. He didn't know what the future held, but it wasn't looking so bleak anymore—not with Hoshi at his side.

~FIN~

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you have a moment, I'd love to hear your thoughts!