I had three weeks of living in Paradise, before reality crashed back in.
Kathryn, when she lets herself go and stops being "The Captain", can really be a loving and nurturing person. I'm a builder, a do-er. If I love someone, I build them something. If Kathryn had only realized it building her a bath and a bed-head was more of a declaration of love than anything I could ever say in words. But Kathryn is truly maternal, as I should have realized by watching how she looked after Harry Kim on his first assignment. She coddled those little tomato plants, and if I'd ever doubted that she could settle down to raising children and a farm, those concerns were soon laid to rest.
We chatted a little about extending the house, but that skirted a bit too close for comfort to the whole having children discussion, so by mutual consent we shelved that idea for a while. After nearly two months in the one place we were becoming familiar enough with our surroundings to be a little bored. A little escape from our current circumstances might help us to take our relationship to the next level. A change of scenery might bring a change of view. Let us by all means have a honeymoon, and see what would happen next... Why not build a boat and go for a camping trip? We are explorers, voyagers by nature as well as by circumstances. Once her tomato plants matured to the point that they could be left alone, I decided to let her in on my plan.
I had done the research already, looking through the database for something that would be simple enough to build with the few tools that we had, but large and stable enough to be able to take us for an extended trip down the river. I brought my selected boat up on the viewscreen, and was rewarded by seeing her eyes sparkle with enthusiasm and delight. I thought she was about to hug me, and maybe go a little further, when I heard something.
After all that time, I almost didn't recognize it. I felt visceral sense of impending doom, and I wondered at first why I disliked the sound so much – then I realized what it was. The comm badges we had stopped wearing and had left sitting on the shelf in the living area were generating static and faint voices.
Kathryn picked hers up, and once again her hands were trembling. I tried not to notice that her eyes were bright with hope and expectation. And her breath quickened as much for Tuvok's dispassionate voice as it ever had for mine. I will admit that I hated the sound of Tuvok's voice more than ever at that moment.
Over the roaring in my head, I heard Kathryn answer her comm, heard her slip immediately into her old Captain's ways, use her Captain's voice – the one I hadn't heard for the last six weeks. Tuvok was telling that the unlooked-for miracle had happened. They had a cure, we could leave our Paradise and resume our roles on Voyager and our journey. They would be within beam-out range in thirty hours!
Kathryn closed the link, and her eyes met mine. I knew what she was asking. Did I remember my promise? And would I keep it?
The agony in my heart was too great to speak. I gave her a slight, reassuring smile. Yes, I remembered. Yes, I would.
For the last time I drew her up to stand beside me, pulled her body fiercely, possessively against mine. I finally found my voice, "We have thirty hours…" It would mean that we would not have time to disassemble and pack the cabin, even the parts that hadn't been destroyed by the storm. We would have to abandon everything – I knew even then that I wouldn't want to bring any little souvenirs of this shore leave. Voyager could hardly spare the materials, but I didn't care. The memories would be quite overwhelming enough on their own.
Kathryn's eyes flicked around the cabin, then without hesitation she lead me to our bedroom for the last time. She would keep her side of the bargain too. She would give me as much of herself as she could, until the last possible minute. Here on this planet, she would be my Kathryn. I would have my thirty hours before I had to face my Captain again.
After we made love for the last time, Kathryn got up and had a sonic shower. I tried not to feel hurt that she didn't want to use the bath I had made for her, but had to admit that I was being unreasonable. We had left it almost to the last minute to prepare for our beam-out and Tuvok would be within range in less than fifteen minutes. I watched her slowly pin up her hair and put on the uniform we had abandoned weeks ago.
I came towards her, intending to rub her shoulders again, but I saw her stiffen at my approach and realized once again that she feared I would not keep my word. She feared me! Never could I allow her to doubt me. My love would be buried deep, never to be mentioned again. Once more we would work side by side and my friendship would be the rock that she leaned against. I would resume that role, I must.
I picked up the Captain's pips that were lying on the bench, and fastened them to her collar for her. That's a tricky maneuver at the best of times, and somehow it took me a very long time, but she stood quite still and let me do it – let me make her into my Captain again. I gave her a nod of acknowledgement when I was done, and she gave me an equally serious nod of thanks. Then she turned and left.
By the time I came out of the cabin she was saying farewell to the alien primate she had befriended. She came over to me and looked into my eyes, with love, for the last time. I looked back steadily – I would keep my promise. I said it to her in my heart over and over.
She turned to stand next to me for beam-out, and gave the command in a steady voice that I know I could not have managed at that moment. With that familiar, yet unpleasant tingle we dissolved and I was once again barred from Paradise – this time forever. The bonds of my promise held me more securely than any Starfleet protocol could ever have done.
Tuvok met us in the transporter room, and gave the Captain a short briefing as we walked to the Bridge. She was all business, but I noticed that she didn't meet my eyes. We both knew that the real test was to come. She would give me an order, an unreasonable, unexplained order – and how I received it would determine how our relationship would proceed. Would I pass the test?
We walked onto the Bridge, and everyone stood with a formality that we had not used for some time. But I could see that everyone wanted a way to express their welcome and joy that their Captain was back. I resumed my First Officer's chair without comment as the Captain took issue with Tuvok's disobedience of her definite orders, but everyone knew that this was just for form's sake. It had turned out well in the end – for everyone except me, that is.
It was part of my agony to see how happy she was to be back in command. She is in her element, doing what her whole life has been geared towards, as she captains this starship. She may have private regrets about what we left behind on Paradise, but she would master them. My Kathryn would be buried beneath the Captain, I would only ever see glimpses of her in the Captain's eyes at unguarded moments.
I think she knew that her eyes would give her away because she didn't look at me as she resumed her Captain's chair, and I steeled myself what I knew had to come. She might not doubt me, but she couldn't risk trusting me without a test. I shouldn't take it personally. As the Captain, it was her job to *know* that her crew would all obey her commands. Even her ex-lover.
She outlined a gruelling shipwide systems review for both of us. Necessary, as we been off the ship for nearly two months. Or it would have been if Tuvok hadn't been in charge. Justifiable, anyway. She allocated herself to review Propulsion, Environmental and Communications and gave me Sensors, Weapons and Transporters. As usual, she gave herself the lion's share of the work. I wanted to protest, to protect her, to guard and shelter her – she knew that I did, and that she couldn't allow it. The first part of keeping my promise would have to be letting her do her job.
I gave the only possible answer, "Aye, Captain." I also added, though it was unnecessary from a ship's functioning point of view that I would give a full report – that is, a suboordinate's report – by 1800. She raised her chin slightly in acknowledgement of my supportive stance, but I knew she wasn't done.
Still without looking at me, she ordered me to check on a small malfunction in the phaser banks which had been an issue before we left the ship six weeks ago. It was a job that any Ensign could have done, or she could have commed B'Elanna in engineering and asked her the status of the weapons. If B'Elanna hadn't seen and fixed that misfiring issue weeks ago, I'd eat my commbadge. But the command, however ridiculous, was not the issue. The issue was my response. In a rock steady voice I gave her what she now needed from me. Not the response of a lover, but the firm acknowledgement that her First Officer would back her up one hundred per cent.
"Yes, Ma'am. I'll see to it."
We both faced the viewscreen and pretended to watch the stars streaming by as Tom Paris flew us steadily towards the Alpha Quadrant. I admit to a new eagerness to get home. Previously I had harboured some doubts about what might be waiting for the Maquis when we arrived back in the Federation. But now I can only wonder if I might find my Kathryn again there? Once we are no longer Captain and First Officer, could we ever rediscover the Paradise that we have now lost?
END LOG