AN: Sometimes, a story takes on a life of its own, and this is one of them. So consider this my holiday gift to you all. And BTW, it's not quite finished — something I usually don't do, but I wanted to get this out there. So if you want to come along for the entire ride, please follow. I make no money from this, and I only own the folks who Tom and Kate meet in this adventure. And as usual, comments and reviews are always welcome. Thanks for reading!
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Tom
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The message was a surprise:
"I was sorry to hear about the divorce and that Miral is so far away from you. "If you need a friendly ear, I'm always available. And if you're looking for a change of scenery, give New York a try."
Kathryn
It's been more than two years since I've seen Kathryn. She'd sent messages when Miral was so sick, but we haven't been in the same room since the hearings ended on Voyager's return.
On the surface, she won: The Maquis were free to start new lives; Doc wasn't declared sentient, but he can serve in Starfleet and well, have a life. Icheb went to the Academy, and Chakotay got the hell out of the quadrant.
As for Seven, I heard that she applied to Starfleet but was rejected because of her Borg past. Once again, Kathryn had to fight for her. Declared that she'd resign her commission, and go public with her reasons, if Seven wasn't accepted. Rather than allow that, Seven left.
But the fight … I think it was too much. Rather than take the admiral's bars that 'Fleet offered with a spot in the diplomatic corps, she decided to retire.
My father talked her into taking the bars and an extended leave. To me, it seemed disrespectful — like Kathryn was a child who didn't know her mind. But the old man can be persuasive: She took the promotion and the leave and made herself scarce, only keeping in touch with a few people.
But here she is with an invitation to visit, no less. And suddenly, a change of scenery seems like a wonderful idea ...
ooo
I miss Starfleet transportation. It took three transports before I arrived in Brooklyn, near the address she'd sent. Good thing I called: She wasn't home, but gave me directions to a coffee shop not far from the station.
She's engrossed in a PADD, the lone customer on the coffee shop's patio, though she has company — an Irish Setter sitting protectively against her leg.
I'm about to call out when she looks up and gives me that lopsided grin, which blossoms into a broad smile as I get closer.
"Hi," I manage when I finally reach her. And why am I feeling a bit overwhelmed?
"Hello, yourself," she says affectionately, only to be interrupted by a low growl from the dog.
"It's all right, Molly," she says softly, giving the dog a pat. "Sorry about that. Have a seat," she adds, nodding at the chair opposite her.
I sit, and almost instantly, a man carrying a coffee pot bustles up.
"Refill, Kate?" Coffee Man asks genially, though his glance at me seems wary.
"Yes, Damon, thank you, and would you bring a drink list?" She nods at me. "My friend has come from San Francisco; he's probably parched. And put it on my tab."
Damon looks relieved. "You got it," he says as he pours her coffee, then departs.
"Welcome to my second home," she says as she sips her drink. "Damon grinds all the blends himself, and he has Neelix's sixth sense as to when I need a refill."
She leans back in her chair and absently scratches Molly's head. "I'm flattered that you came out. I didn't know if you'd make a cross-continent trip to see me."
"Well, let's just say I could use a change of scenery, especially since I'm between apartments."
She frowns. "Where were you living?"
I shrug. "Residential hotel; put my stuff in storage."
She nods. "How are you? And Miral?"
"Miral's OK, as far as I know. The engine-test project moves to the Cristobal next month, so she's moving again. Otherwise, I talk to her once a week, and B'Elanna does have the decency to send medical reports. I still worry, though. As for me …"
Damon arrives with a menu, and I choose the first thing I see.
"Cappuccino?" she teases, and I shrug. "Sounds good."
"I didn't want to intrude," she continues. "This virus hitting Miral so suddenly ... you had a lot to cope with. But your dad was good about giving me updates."
A disquieting thought hits: "Was your invitation his idea?"
"Hardly," she admonishes with a milder version of her death glare. "Though I did ask for your vid code. Look, I can't begin to imagine what you've been through. But I do understand loss, and that we can all use a safe harbor. And," she says softly, "I've missed you."
I swallow and look at the table. Looks like I've screwed up again. "I'm sorry," I say, just as softly. "I'm just feeling defensive. I really appreciate the invitation. And I've missed you, too."
"Well, then, we're agreed," she says lightly. "It's almost noon. When you finish, we'll go back to my place and have lunch. You're in luck: I have food in the house."
ooo
"This isn't the kind of neighborhood I'd expect to see in New York," I remark as the three of us walk to her place.
"No, it's not," she agrees. "We're surrounded by basins, canals, and channels to and from the Hudson and the East rivers. Very much a harbor town atmosphere."
"So, how did you end up here?"
"Phoebe," she answers as she motions for a left turn. "There's a large arts community here, and she works with a few of the gallery owners. When I accepted the offer at Columbia, she suggested I check out the neighborhood. I wasn't expecting much, but I loved it immediately."
Columbia ... I run through what I do know of Kathryn's life. "Astrophysics?" I finally ask. She nods. "I'm doing a series of short-term undergrad classes on Delta Quadrant phenomena. 'Fleet calls it a 'special assignment' posting."
I start to ask her about that, but she nudges me toward an older brownstone, then leads the way to her place — three flights up.
The apartment is light and cheery, if sparsely furnished. The dining area is a makeshift artist's studio dominated by the view: Water, with the Old Governor's Island across the way and New Manhattan in the distance. She's trying to capture it, I note as I glance at the half-finished painting. Doing a good job, too.
"My office," she says, pointing to a corner room. "You're welcome to leave your bags there. And the bed's out here." She opens a door to reveal a pull-down bed. "Phee uses it when she visits; says it's comfortable."
We dodge each other in the tiny kitchen as she pulls out cold cuts and slaw and I find the bread and chips. Sandwiches assembled, she takes the plates to the coffee table. "I usually eat at my desk," she murmurs apologetically.
Molly is banished to the corner room. "She's a terrible mooch. I've been spoiling her," Kathryn admits.
We make small talk while we eat. She looks better; she's gained a little weight and has lost that haggard look. But the shadows are still reflected in her eyes, just as they are in mine. She doesn't press me about what happened to Miral or my marriage. I'm not sure what I can — or should — ask her.
"Do you like teaching?" I finally venture.
She considers for a moment, a half-smile playing across her face. "More than I thought I would," she admits. "I enjoy their perspectives and questions. "
I'd love to explore that topic, but she gives me an apologetic look and stands to pick up the dishes. "I have to prep for my class. But please, make yourself at home; there are drinks in the stasis, new movies on the vidstream," she says, nodding toward a screen sitting on a small bookcase. "If you go out, just buzz when you get back, and I'll open the outer door."
She retires to her office, leaving me alone. I pace a bit; check the vidstream offerings; scan the bookshelf; nothing appeals. Finally, I walk to the windows and look out at the water. I feel something settle inside as I watch the ferries go by ...
I grab my bag and pull out the portable holocode writer, then take a seat next to the window and begin to recreate the view.
I'm still working when Kathryn finally comes out of the office. "Need to capture the view, I see," she remarks. "It's calming," I tell her. "I always thought about water in terms of the ocean, but this …"
She nods. "It is soothing. At first, I'd sit here and watch for hours. Eventually, I felt the need to capture it, too."
"You're doing a nice job," I offer, and she smiles her thanks.
"It's time for Molly to go out again. If you'd like, we can walk around the neighborhood," she says. "Or we could have an early dinner. There's a good Italian place up the block. Either way, we want to be at the pier by sunset. It's kind of a community gathering spot."
Well, this sounds interesting. I opt for the early dinner. She suggests a light jacket; the evening could be chilly.
The streets have come alive with music and voices drifting out from various bars and restaurants. "Here we are — this is Roberto's," she says as we walk up to a restaurant that started life as a house.
The staffer at the door gives Kathryn and Molly a broad smile. "Takeout menu, Admiral?"
"Dining in tonight, Sam," Kathryn says as she nods back to me. "My friend is visiting from San Francisco. So a table for two on the back patio, please."
Sam gives me a quick look over as he grabs a couple of PADDs and a dog biscuit, then gives Kathryn a small bow. "We're delighted to have you; this way, please."
"What's with the looks?" I ask as we settle into our seats. "First the guy at the coffee shop, now him."
Kathryn just chuckles as she feeds Molly the biscuit. "I seem to have a network of protectors. Some of them, like Sam, are Phoebe's friends. Some, like Damon, and Ella and Ronni over at the deli, own the businesses I visit the most. They make sure I'm not bothered. Though Voyager isn't in the news these days, so I'm not interesting."
ooo
"So what's so special about the pier?" I ask as we leave the restaurant.
She chuckled. "By itself? Not much. It's not a working pier. But it's bordered by a small park and has a wonderful view of the sunset; people gather every night to see it."
I can hear the buzz from a couple of blocks away; finally, we turn the last corner, and damn! It's a full-fledged party. People are sitting on the lawn; others are milling about or watching the various street entertainers. I note that Kathryn keeps a tight hold on Molly's leash, though the dog seems unfazed by the scene.
Kathryn steers me to a bar with a park-side window. "Want a drink? We can toast your first evening here," she asks with that lopsided grin."Yes, ma'am!" I tease; she just shakes her head.
We find a stretch of unoccupied wall just off the main drag, and we sit and watch the party go by. "You come here every night?" I ask, and nearly kick myself. That sounds like a pickup line, which she has the grace to ignore. "Depends on the weather, but I come down a couple of nights a week. Gets me out of the house; makes my therapist happy."
The sunset does not disappoint: It sets the sky ablaze with streaks of orange and yellow as the crowd cheers and claps. We toast the view, and my arrival. The crowd begins to break up; Kathryn continues to sit, so I relax and sip my drink.
"I always wonder what Seven's reaction to this would be," she confides. "Knowing her, she'd think it irrational that we cheered for a natural phenomenon."
"Maybe, someday, she'll be moved by a spectacular sunset," I offer
"Perhaps," she says quietly.
Maybe I shouldn't ask, but … "Do you know where she is?"
"No," she admits. "She's a Fenris Ranger, so she moves around a lot."
"Sorry, I've just heard the name."
"Some call them vigilantes," she says wryly. "They say their job is to protect the weak and vulnerable. They're out at the fringes of Federation space … areas that …" she stops and shakes her head, but I know what she won't say: Areas that the Federation has basically abandoned.
"I haven't heard from her lately, but she does stay in contact with Icheb," she continues. "He's good about keeping in touch. And he's doing well, by the way."
She pauses for a moment, then sighs. "And no, I don't know where Chakotay is, either. I thought he'd keep in touch with B'Elanna if anyone."
I shake my head. "Well, he didn't while we were together. We just assumed he was still on Dorvan." Kathryn just shrugs in return.
A tall Bajoran woman appears in front of us. She has a broad smile and a flowing dress of vivid greens and yellows that certainly complements the festivities. Even her earring, the D'ja Pagh, is bejeweled.
Kathryn! So good to see you, dear!" she exclaims.
It's nice to see you, too," Kathryn answers cordially, then makes the introductions. She's Draso Laiju, owner of one of the art galleries. She looks me up and down, and I'm getting a bit uncomfortable. "And what do you do?" she purrs.
"I was a pilot, now I'm a holographer," I say noncommittally.
"A man of many talents," she remarks to Kathryn. "Oh, indeed," Kathryn purrs back, and I can't quite decipher the look in her eyes.
"Your lovely sister and I will be conducting business next month," Draso says. "So she tells me," Kathryn agrees. Draso just smiles. "Well, perhaps Karlo will throw one of his famous parties soon. I hope you'll be here to enjoy it," she whispers conspiratorially to me.
She moves on and Kathryn's jaw relaxes. "That one of Phoebe's friends?"
"More of a business relationship," she says as she slides off the wall.
When we get back, she feeds Molly, then suggests a movie; I readily agree. She even replicates popcorn and produces a couple of beers, which is another surprise.
"Porter? I would have expected a lager, or maybe a wheat."
She shrugs. "Phee and her friends dragged me to a beer tasting. I like this ... nice chocolate flavor."
ooo
The movie was good, if a bit long, and we're both in need of a stretch. Kathryn looks at the chronometer: it's late. "I should warn you that I do have my routine. Part of it is to have a regular bedtime. Doctor's orders. So if you want to watch something else, feel free; it won't bother me."
"Hey, by the way," I say as she heads to the bedroom, Molly padding behind. "If Phoebe's staying here, or you have plans or something, just say the word. I can always head back."
She looks amused. "If Phoebe's here, it will only be a night or two. We can adjust the sleeping arrangements if needed. There's no time limit, Thomas," she says softly. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like."
I thank her, feeling humbled by her generosity. She just winks and closes the door.
I busy myself with bedtime preparations. Once done, I consider and reject the vid. Instead, I shut off the lights and sit in the dark, watching the boats cruise through the waters outside.