Chapter 6: Fear and patience (II)
"That's an impossible demand," Janeway retorted, her voice rising with the anger that had been building all morning.
"Hardly," the leader spat. "Impossible is what we've been asked to deal with. Impossible is you coming here and expecting us to trust you."
On the opposite side of the long table, Governor Mollen glared at her, his unmasked disdain apparent beneath his anger.
"Perhaps we should take a break," Janeway breathed. "Reconvene when we've both had a chance to cool off."
The look the leader had given her told her there would likely be no cooling off today. Still, he seemed as grateful to retreat from the table as she was.
Coming out of the capital building, Kathryn closed her as eyes as the planet's warm, dry wind found her.
The Agauos colony was the eighth of the ten stops on her itinerary, and she'd known going in that it would be the hardest.
The night before they'd reached orbit, Tom had looked at her pensively, his eyes clouded with concern before he ducked his head back to the report he was feverishly reading.
There were theoretically days of preparation to be done before reaching any planet, but Kathryn had realized two days into their trip that Tom had come as prepared as she had. She'd handed him a diplomatic report on Leros, while they were lounging in her quarters, and she'd looked over a few minutes later to realize that he was scanning it with no real interest.
"You've already read it, haven't you?" she'd asked, her voice thick with frustration that he hadn't just come out and told her.
"Yes," he'd replied, a bit sheepishly. "I've also read the report on Leros that the Captain of the Prometheus filed after it's time there last year." He paused. "And I may have picked up a few non-Starfleet items as well."
She'd looked at him, an expression of surprise and amusement on her face. She could only imagine what his workload had been in the run up to leaving the Titan. And he'd managed, on top of that, to complete the entirety of the research she'd planned for him to read while they were in transit.
"You can't still be worried about impressing me, after all these years."
Her mouth tugged into a lopsided grin and he crossed his arms, his posture somewhere between defensiveness and amusement.
"Oh, I think that ship has long since sailed." He looked rueful, adding. "But I have been terrified of trying to keep up with you."
She'd laughed, and from then on they'd both dropped any pretext of how much work they'd both put in before leaving. Their last minute preparation before arriving at a planet was light; a few hours of work to be stretched out across days of travel.
In the run up to Agauos, however, they'd both sunk themselves into every scrap of information, every footnote on the colony that they could find.
The colony had never been high on the Federation's list of priorities. It was one of the planets that had almost been traded away in it's hasty peace with the Cardassians a decade and a half earlier, long before the Dominion and threats from the Gamma quadrant were even an issue. After surviving the threat of being turned over to the Cardassians, Agauos braved the worst of the Dominion War. It suffered through Cardassian occupation when the Federation boarders were besieged and managed to keep its political system intact while its leaders were killed, its population displaced.
The end of the war had brought only moderate relief to the small population on the colony. The Federation was slow to take interest in rebuilding efforts on Agauos, and even slower to openly shoot down renewed Cardassian interest in the planet.
All things considered, Janeway couldn't really blame Mollen for not trusting her. He'd watched while his father, Agauos' previous Governor, was killed at the start of the war. Watched while the Federation openly bargained with those who had slain the fallen leader, simultaneously denying his people the aid they desperately needed.
Looking around the city, she took in the decaying buildings and lack of commotion in the streets. By Alpha Quadrant standards, the planet was poor. By Federation standards, it was destitute. She pondered the tragedy of the planet's circumstances.
The name 'Agauos' was from the ancient Greek, meaning illustrious or noble. She was relieved its founders, filled with hope and a desire for a better life, had never had to see what their home had become.
Across from the capital building, there was a facility roughly akin to an orphanage. One of many on Agauos since the war. During negotations, Mollen had frequently looked at it through the window of their meeting room. Perhaps it was a tactic to remind Janeway of the misery of the Agaousians' circumstances. Perhaps it was simply to remind himself of what was at steak when tempers had flared. Either way, she understood.
In the playground of the orphanage, she recognized Tom's familiar body standing among the children. He stood out immediately among the olive-skinned, dark-haired Agauosians. She wasn't sure what to make of his location, but found her legs moving to meet him.
When she entered the playground, one of the Agauosian workers looked at her with open suspicion. Tom nodded at the woman, a sign that Janeway was with him. This seemed to mollify her, and she turned to look after the three small children toddling at her feet.
"You seem to be having better luck inspiring trust than I am," Kathryn said, nodding with her chin toward the woman's retreating figure.
Tom looked up at her with a searching expression. He was covered in dirt and beside him, playing contentedly in the sand with a model ship, was a fair-skinned boy who appeared to be about four.
"I wondered how things were going to in there after you two dismissed everyone else."
Tom's concerned expression melted into a smile when the boy made an engine noise, lifting the ship up with his hands. A child after his own heart.
Janeway slumped on the ground beside Paris, her eyes on the child and the toy.
"I want to help Mollen. But I don't think I convince him to let me in long enough to do it." She tore her eyes away from the boy and looked at Tom. "He's stubborn."
"He's scared," Tom modified, still looking at the child. "He's afraid he won't be able to protect his people. He's scared of what will become of them." His voice was low when he said this, and his eyes filled with sadness.
The boy had blonde hair like Tom and delicate features like Kathryn. Traits that weren't rare in Terrans generally, but were uncommon in the gene pool of Agauos. The child, dissimilar from prospective parents, would not be adopted quickly. Perhaps not adopted at all.
Nature's methods of ensuring creatures took care of their own often backfired in cruel ways.
"I'm not sure what to do now," she confessed, watching Tom watch the child.
"You have to make him see that as rational as his fear is, it's also crippling him," he replied, looking at her. "You have to convince him that there are worse things than putting trust in people and having it fail."
For the rest of her break, they stayed there in the sand; Tom, Kathryn, and the child who looked like both of them.
The next day, things with Mollen went a bit smoother. Every time the Governor spurned her, Janeway found a patience she never knew she had, looking back at him with a soft expression and compassion in her eyes.
When they broke for lunch, Tom left the building several minutes before her. She wasn't surprised to find him back in the playground, again covered in dirt.
She had no idea how he would get cleaned up in time for the afternoon talks, but she also didn't quite seem to care. She sank beside him in the sand, particles making their way into her boot.
This time, the fair-headed boy had a playmate; a girl with long, brown hair who towered over him and who, Tom later told later that evening, would be going home with a family the next day. When the girl reached for the toy ship, the boy clung to it desperately. Tom eyed the exchange with interest, looking at the boy with compassion when he buried his face in Tom's stomach.
New toys were rare here, as they were a luxury that came after medical supplies and basic necessities. When Paris and Janeway's ship departed, the toys they'd had replicated would quickly age and break. And then there be only empty space and longing where the toys had once been.
"You should share with her," Tom said to the boy, in a tone that conveyed the sharing of a secret more than an admonishment. "One day, you're going to realize girls are pretty."
Tom looked at Kathryn and the boy followed his eyes, listening as the blonde man leaned closer. As though they were hatching an elaborate plan.
"You're going to want to be nice to them now, so that they like you later."
Slowly, the boy extended the toy to the girl, and Kathryn looked at Tom with a mix of amazement and amusement. She opened her mouth to tease her friend for his line of persuasion, but they were interrupted by the presence of Mollen standing above them.
"What are you doing here?" The leader's voice was past suspicion and into accusation.
Janeway's mind raced to take control of the situation, but before she thought to say anything she heard Tom replying.
"Governor, where else should we want to be?"
Tom's voice was sincere. His face open as he watched the children beside him with joy as well as sadness. Mollen took it all in.
The leader seemed to deflate, his anger leaving him and fatigue overwhelming his dark features. Silently, he sat on the ground across from Janeway and Paris.
"I grew up in a place like this," the Agauosian eventually confessed, glancing at the children as they played.
He watched as the Starfleet officers looked puzzled. He understood. His father had never advertised his son's lineage, and he knew it wasn't in any of the published records about him. Slowly, he began to explain.
"My father, the Governor, adopted me when I was ten. But by then, I'd already learned too many hard lessons." He smiled as the girl sweetly handed the toy ship back to the boy, the boy accepting it with unbridled glee. "It's difficult to trust people when you grow up without people caring about you. Without feeling safe."
Janeway watched the leader, feeling grateful for his sudden softness. Grateful for the opening Tom had provided her with.
"I'm not sure, in the end, that the Federation can ever do enough." She glanced at the children before meeting Mollen's eyes. "But I'd like to help you achieve something better for your people. For your children."
Mollen nodded, but didn't move to get up.
Instead they sat there, the five of them. The three adults watching as the warm Agauosian wind moved the girl's brown hair, and the boy looking at her with unmasked interest.
. . . . . .
When Tom pushed his way through her door, Kathryn wasn't sure what had taken place.
"I'm staying in here with you," he informed her brusquely, as he stepped around her smaller frame and into her guest room.
Paris' voice left no room for questions, and he threw his things down with force on the couch near her bed.
"Why? What's wrong?" She looked at him with confusion and concern.
Tom didn't behave this way with her. He didn't inform her impatiently, and without regard for her feelings, that he was going to do something that may invade her personal space.
He didn't answer her. Instead, he nodded with his head toward the door. When Janeway opened it and peered into the hallway, she saw that the guards who'd been stationed at their doors were gone. She imagined they'd gone either to get a drink of water or else to use the restroom.
She exhaled heavily, closing the door again.
She'd hesitated when Dorvan's First Minister had invited them to stay on the planet. Like Agauos, Dorvan V had been one of the planets the Federation had been willing to trade away to the Cardassians before the war, and the resulting chaos had played out more years earlier, with the Enterprise-D in orbit.
Janeway could still hear the sad words of Jean-Luc Picard's log entries from thirteen years earlier echoing in her ears. She could also hear her former First Officer's warning to her, just before she left San Francisco.
"There's a reason I haven't been back there, Kathryn. Just be careful."
Chakotay had been right about his home world, of course.
Dorvan V was back on the Federation side of the border now, and the government was eager to please to keep it that way. Too eager, its population thought, and constant flare ups of violence occurred everyday. The assassination of one of the regional leaders the week before Janeway and Paris came. A bombing on the main continent the morning they arrived.
Paris had shot her a meaningful look when she'd accepted the Minister's invitation. She hadn't wanted to be rude and he understood, but it was clear that neither the Federation nor Starfleet were well liked on this planet. Killing a Vice-admiral, he assumed, would be quite the message for insurgents to send to Dorvan' government about their sycophantic relations with the Federation.
Looking at Tom, Kathryn seemed deflated.
"I guess the Minister's personal guards aren't quite as well trained as their Starfleet counterparts."
Tom snorted, eyeing her with thinly-veiled frustration.
"My condolences to the Minister, as well as his staff," he remarked darkly, moving his phaser as he made his bed on the couch.
Janeway was willing to endure Paris' sour mood. Agreeing to stay here might not have been a mistake, exactly, but it was certainly a risk she hadn't needed to take. He was worried now about her safety rather than his own. And it didn't matter to him that if her room was really besieged, his lone phaser would be of little consequence.
"You can't sleep on the couch, Tom."
"You're not staying-"
"I know," she cut him off, holding up her hand as a silent plea. "And I'm not arguing."
In front of her, he seemed to calm, his petulant expression shifting back into his usual countenance.
"I'm just saying that if you're going to stay here, you can't sleep on the couch. We both know that your back is going to kill you if you do."
Tom didn't say anything. Instead, he scratched his head with a rueful expression. She was right, he knew.
Overall, Tom was an incredibly healthy person. He was athletic and rarely got sick. He could eat almost anything without discomfort, and was able to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. He was built like a man half his age.
Except for his back.
By the time he was thirty, it would be tense and sore if he'd gone to sleep in an awkward position. It bothered him after he played Velocity, or if he'd spent the day bent over a console, doing repairs. And every single time he'd fallen asleep on Janeway's couch on Voyager, that damn lump in the center cushion had produced a kink that had refused to go away for days.
When Kathryn had taken the couch with her for her office at Headquarters, Tom had looked at her in horror. She had just smiled and smiled at him.
"Fine," he said, throwing his pillow onto the bed. "But, if this is just some grand plan to seduce me, Admiral. . ."
She crossed her arms in front of her and he wagged a finger at her.
"I should warn you now, before you do anything else, that I'm far too tired to be of any use at the moment."
He sat on the bed with a thud as he finished, and she looked at him with a smirk.
"Lucky for you, I have no interest in your 'uses'."
"Oh?" he said, as she climbed into bed beside him. "Then why are there are so many rumors about us?"
"Because there's nothing else to talk about, it seems."
"Hmm."
"Besides," she remarked, hitting the panel for the lights. "I have it on good authority that you're of no 'use' anyway." She paused. "Katherine Bishop and I still speak frequently."
At the mention of his now ex-girlfriend, followed by the uncharacteristic taunt about his sexual prowess, Tom began to laugh.
As long as they'd known each other, as open and teasing as they were with one another, Janeway never made jokes like this.
"Have you been keeping this dirty sense of humor from me the entire time I've known you? Were you hiding it in your desk? Or maybe under your uniform?" He peaked under the covers, as though he were looking for her tawdry thoughts there.
She fluffed the blankets around her.
"Don't you worry about what I keep under my uniform, Tom Paris."
At this, Tom lost it entirely, and then so did Kathryn. Both of their bodies shook with amusement in the dark.
Long after they stilled, unconsciousness evaded both of them. Kathryn rolled over on her side and looked at Tom. He'd given up on even trying to sleep, and his blue eyes gazed at her in the yellow late of the Dorvan moon.
"Are you upset about B'Elanna?" she asked, her voice low and gravelly.
He could have been slow to fall asleep because of their shared bed, but Kathryn knew their proximity didn't bother him. At this point in their friendship, they didn't worry about sitting too close on the couch or hugging too tightly. Moving from one planet to another, she often propped her sock-clad feet in his lap while they sat reading reports, his free hand massaging the balls of her feet as he scanned his PADD.
She also suspected he wasn't kept up, as she was, by worries about the next round of talks. He had a far away expression, and it reminded her of look he'd had the previous day, when they'd received B'Elanna's message informing them of her engagement. It was same expression he'd had six years earlier in Sandrine's, when he'd explained why he'd ended things with engineer after his encounter with the anomaly.
"I don't know," he replied, his eyes clouding in thought. "I think. . . part of me thinks I should be. Part of me expects to feel like someone is marrying my wife; the person I'm supposed to be with."
"But you don't?" She propped her head up with her hand, waiting as he worked through his thoughts.
"Not really," he replied finally. "And I know Harry doesn't believe me. That he's just waiting for me to fall apart, or cry, or something."
Kathryn smiled. They'd been chauffeured to Dorvan V by the ship Kim was stationed on, the USS Adelphi. It was nice for both of them to get to see Harry. But the moment B'Elanna's message came through, Harry began to watch Tom with a look of partially-masked concern.
Janeway was sure, as the Adelphi orbited Dorvan, Kim's forehead was still knit with worry.
"He still doesn't make have much of a poker face, does he?" Her eyes twinkled.
"Nope." He smiled. "And let's not pretend that particular trait isn't the reason you've always adored young Mr. Kim."
"It's one of many," she replied, chuckling before searching his face. "But back to the original conversation."
He paused, casting his eyes to the ceiling.
"I'm happy for her. Really, I am. And I think I'm even relieved that it's her that's getting married first. Because it means that I don't have to feel guilty that things didn't work out between us back then."
"But?" she prodded, staring at him intently.
"But. . . It's also making me think about my own life. The things I want."
She regarded him with compassion, and then with confidence.
"You know what you want, Tom. Even if you haven't found it all yet."
Her face was warm and her eyes certain, and Tom couldn't bring himself to look at her any longer. He closed his eyes, hoping the darkness would shade his doubts.
It didn't. And when he felt a gentle tapping of a finger on his forehead, he suddenly wished he'd stayed in his own room.
Slowly, he opened his eyes. Staring at him were concerned grey eyes, framed by auburn hair.
"Hey," she murmured, dropping her hand to his pillow. "Talk to me."
He inhaled deeply, trying to swallow the wave of fear that choked his throat.
"When I left for this mission, I knew what I wanted. Or at least, I thought I knew." He paused, his eyes softening. "But here I am, away from my ship, away from the work I've contentedly buried myself under for the last few years. . . And I'm. . . the happiest I think I've ever felt."
Kathryn wanted to smile, but the emotion with which he was relaying this last sentiment- the pain and confusion in his voice- prevented her. Centimeters from her own face, she could see his lips press into a thin line before he continued speaking.
"Kath, I thought, as nice it would be to spend time with an old friend, it would be hard to leave the Titan. That I would miss the daily grind of a vessel. The pattern of living that's divided neatly by shifts; my time filled with meetings and administration." He stopped, shaking his head. "But you know what?"
His voice dropped to a whisper as he asked this, something akin to embarrassment clouding his features. She looked at him expectantly.
"I'm depressed that in a week that I'm going back to it all. That I'm going to leave behind this life of quiet dinners and sitting on the couch reading with you."
He closed his eyes again, and his voice grew even softer, his words becoming difficult for her to hear despite how close she was to him.
"I'm completely terrified that I'm about to go back to an empty cabin. And that that's what I'm going to come home to night after night for the rest of my life."
Her eyes welled with tears when he finished, and she found his hand beneath the blanket.
"I know," she said, closing her eyes as well.
Of course she did. It was the feeling she'd carried with her long before she met him two months earlier on the Mississippi.
The reason he hadn't wanted to confess this pain to her, fearing he would make her own worse.
Lying there, neither consoled the other with the thought that eventually they would find someone, as they both knew it was possible that they wouldn't. Nor could they bring themselves to speak of the rewards of a Starfleet life; the comforts an illustrious career brought, even if one ended up alone.
Putting her head on his chest, Kathryn listened to the steady thud of Tom's heartbeat and felt the rise and fall of his chest beneath her. Her breath quietly rustled his night shirt. Their hands still clasped, her thumb traced slow circles in the center of his palm.
Eventually, they both drifted off to sleep, each comforted by the gentle rhythm of the other.
. . . . . .
Running down the narrow ally, Kathryn promised herself that she was going to listen to Tom more.
If they made it out of this without dying, she was going to drink less coffee, spend more time with her mother, and definitely listen to Tom more.
Coming out of their second round of meeting on Dorvan, the Minister's security force had surrounded them when the sound of phaser fire rang out. Unfortunately, they'd also allowed the group to be forced down the street by the blasts, moving right into the waiting ambush.
The ensuing exchange of fire had been chaotic, but Tom had been able to comm the Adelphi, and the vessel would be in transporter range in less than thirty seconds. If only Paris and Janeway could outrun the blasts of the insurgents fast enough.
Rounding a corner, Paris shoved Janeway in front of him, looking back over his shoulder as they ran.
"Coming into range in fifteen seconds," rang Harry's voice from Tom's badge.
It would have been a welcome announcement if Paris and Janeway hadn't just then run into a dead end. Within seconds, they heard the thud of footsteps in the distance behind them.
Without hesitation, Paris stepped in front of Janeway, pinning her body to the stone wall with his chest and arms. Realizing what he was doing, she fought to push him away. But his larger body overwhelmed hers, and all she could manage was the space to look up into his face.
His expression was serene. As though all his life, he'd anticipated dying this way for her.
There was no trace of fear. No sign of regret. Just a shattering calmness in his eyes as he looked down at her, patiently waiting for the end of his life.
"It's okay," he whispered in her ear, when they heard the click of a phaser behind them, and she struggled against him again.
She would never forget the sound of his voice when he said it, or the way he almost seemed to smile when she silently fought him. The way he was kind with her, even as he stood expecting the blast that would tear through his body .
She would die one day, she was sure, thinking about how Tom's body had felt pressed against hers in that ally. The feeling of his chest pinning her to the wall, his comm badge digging into her shoulder. The even rhythm of his breathing mingling with her own thready breaths.
She closed her eyes.
Her eyes were still shut and her body still pressed against him when they materialized on the Adelphi.
"Report," Tom called, moving away from her and off the transporter pad.
Standing there in the artificial light of the ship, watching as Tom exited the transporter room after the Ensign who was reporting to him, Kathryn blinded once, twice.
"Are you alright Admiral?" Harry asked, regarding her with concern from behind the transporter console.
She stood staring at him, not sure her legs could move or her throat would produce sound.
"Fine," she responded after a moment, moving with practiced ease as she stepped down from the pad. "But I'm relieved you still have impeccable timing, Mr. Kim."
Her voice was cheerful and her manner all business. She strode out of the room in the same manner she'd exited her ready room on Voyager. Calm. Confident. Together.
Still, after Janeway left, Kim's forehead remained knit with worry.
. . . . .
When Janeway met Kim alone for dinner in his quarters, Harry tried to contain his vague feeling of unease. But when Tom came alone to fetch him for breakfast, the younger man began to feel like a child in some well-organized custody arrangement.
"Are you two in the middle of some kind of fight?" Harry asked, looking pensive over his omelet.
Tom regarded his friend carefully, pausing to consider his response.
It was strange to say that Tom had done anything wrong, doing what he did on Dorvan. He had risked his life for a ranking officer. For his closest friend. He had offered himself as a human shield for a woman who'd made countless sacrifices for himself and 144 others, over the course of seven long years.
Monuments had been built to celebrate the kind of thing Tom had done. Triumphant speeches had been written, heralding the selflessness of a lone individual and extolling the nobility of the human spirit.
Looking across at Harry over breakfast, Tom knew what he'd done wasn't purely selfless. And he didn't think it deserved elegant words or a shiny plaque.
Had Harry been two seconds later in transporting them, phaser fire would have torn through his back, his body crumpling against Kathryn as she felt his chest contract and then slump. She would have cradled his weight as his body gave out beneath him. Watched his face, only centimeters from her own, as it registered infinite pain and then nothingness.
She would have taken to her grave the last words he'd spoken to her. And when she closed her eyes in bed every night prior to that, she would have seen the look in his eyes when he'd slipped away.
What he'd done was selfless, it was true. But it was also horribly cruel.
He understood this. Just as he knew why Kathryn now refused to stop by his quarters. Why she hadn't spoken to him, or even, for that matter, held eye contact with him since they'd materialized on the Adelphi.
Tom understood all of it. Still, he couldn't quite bring himself to feel sorry.
"Not exactly," Tom replied, sipping his coffee.
This failed to make Harry feel any better, and Tom looked at his friend with a soft smile.
After the day's negotiations with Dorvan's leaders were completed, this time on the safety of the Adelphi, Tom allowed himself some time in his quarters. He knew that he needed to find Kathryn, but somehow he'd hoped that she would find him.
She hadn't, and he was disappointed, though not surprised.
After an hour of sitting alone, he made his way to the deck she was staying on. When he chimed at the door, she bid him entry but didn't look at him, her face turned to the stars as she sat on the couch in the living area.
She didn't speak and neither did he immediately. The only sound was the sad song she'd loved since Voyager; its mournful notes filling the room and its refrain pulling them both back to another place.
He briefly considered allowing her physical space. Taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch, or perhaps on the chair. Instead, he sank down on the couch beside her, waiting until she looked at him with a dark expression and accusing eyes.
"You're allowed to be mad at me," he said evenly, pulling her feet into his lap. "But you aren't allowed to stay mad at me."
She examined his face and her anger seemed to fall away slightly, though dark currents still swam in her eyes.
"I would have watched you die," she said, her feet tense as he began to rub them.
"I know," he replied somberly. "And I'd like to say that I would take it back." His eyes narrowed. "But I wouldn't."
She snorted, but didn't smile or laugh. She simply stared at him.
"I'm not sure what I would have done if the Adelphi would have come later." Her eyes dropped from his face and her expression became unreadable as she continued. "I'm not sure how I would have lived if I'd lost you that way."
He didn't cease his ministrations on the balls of her feet.
"Well, I'm afraid that I have a good idea what I would have done if I lost you, as it's already happened to me once."
His voice was casual as he spoke, but he refused to meet her gaze, his eyes remaining on her feet in his lap. Kathryn watched him, emotions vying for prominence on her face.
Tom rarely spoke about the alternate Voyager anymore, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd asked about it. It wasn't that either failed to voice their thoughts. It was just that Tom thought less and less about those experiences the farther he got from them, and she was simply grateful that he seemed less haunted.
"I didn't cry when she died," he volunteered, before she could formulate a question that wouldn't dig too deeply into an old wound.
"No?" Her voice was surprised, but not hurt.
"I think it just felt more like a waste than anything. She was so unhappy at the end. I guess we all were, really. Maybe I didn't have it in me to grieve her."
His fingers stilled on her feet, and he looked at her with pain in his eyes.
"At least, that's what I used to think; that I didn't have any tears left by the time she passed. But I sometimes now I think it was the opposite." He looked out her viewport, adding, "sometimes I think that I didn't cry then because I was afraid if the tears started, they would never stop."
Kathryn's eyes became glassy, her previous anger forgotten. She tugged his hand into her own, lacing her fingers through his.
"There's really only one thing to do," she said suddenly, after they'd passed a few minutes in silence save for the music playing.
He looked at her expectantly as he kneaded the base of her toes.
"We have to make sure neither of us dies before the other."
He smiled slightly, the ghost of pain disappearing from his face.
"You mean you want to make a pact?"
"Yes," she confirmed, her tone indicating gravity. As though she was back in the negotiating room, dealing with the fate of planets and decisions that impacted billions. "We both have to die at the exact same time. At the ripe old age of 110."
He smiled. But then his expression shifted.
"You know," he began with an innocent expression, his finger tracing the arch of her foot in a way that he knew tickled her.
She didn't twitch or tense, her face still resolved as he spoke.
"When I'm 110, you're going to 119."
She glared at him, and his innocent expression faltered, a smirk playing at his lips. Even the great Kathryn Janeway was sensitive about her age.
"Of course," he continued, "you'll no doubt look much better at 119 than I do at 110, or even at 100 for that matter."
She reached for a pillow to toss at his head and he seized her foot tighter, tickling her until she finally began to wriggle.
"Commander Paris, I order you to stop it this instant," Janeway barked, but he, of course, refused.
Their battle continued even as her door chimed.
"Come," she called with laughter, kicking her foot furiously as Tom reached for it again.
"Hi, Admiral, I. . ." Harry began, but immediately froze when he saw the seen unfolding in the living area.
Was Tom tickling Janeway?
"I'll just. . . Come back later," Harry said, with a vague gesture. He ignored Tom's voice calling to him to stay, turning swiftly on his heel to exit.
When he was gone, Kathryn pressed her lips together, barely suppressing a giggle.
"What if that was Captain Richards checking in on you?" Tom asked, a wry grin on his face.
"Oh, I knew it wasn't. I invited Harry for dinner yesterday."
Her tone was nonchalant but Tom saw through it, his face twisting in surprise.
"You did that deliberately to scare with him! You let him walk in on us like this knowing it would throw him for a loop."
Kathryn tried to school her features but failed. She blushed, realizing that she'd been caught.
"After all of these years, I must confess: I still enjoy scaring the hell out of Harry Kim."
Tom shook his head, a rueful expression on his face.
"I can't say I blame you. It's easy enough for you to torment him. At least, when it's me who's going to have to deal with him later, when he asks me if we're having an affair."
This time, it was Kathryn's turn to look surprised.
"He's really asked you that?" She didn't look appalled, exactly. But it wasn't far off.
"You say that like he accused you of sleeping with Minister Devra," Tom retorted, his voice somewhere between amused and hurt.
At the mention of the Bailorian minister who'd hounded her six years earlier, Kathryn pulled a face. But she didn't respond.
"And he hasn't asked me yet. At least not in words." Tom paused. "But I promise you this: the words are coming."
Kathryn looked at him with interest and something else.
Harry Kim, the last officer to spread gossip and the first to run scared of her, thought she was sleeping with Tom Paris.
It was yet another of Tom's comments that would stick with Kathryn for weeks.
. . . . .
When Tom came tantalizingly close to hitting a triple over on the dabo wheel, Kathryn thought the Ferengi proprietor was going to pass out on his perch above them.
"Dabo!" the crowd cheered, and Tom collected his earnings . His prize wasn't meager, but it was a far cry from the jackpot he would have earned with a triple over.
Janeway laughed, hiding her face behind Tom's shoulder when the dabo girl tried to convince Paris to reinvest his earnings. He flatly refused with a shake of his head.
Coming here had been Tom's idea. They needed to kill a few hours before their transports arrived and neither felt like sitting in guest quarters when there was so much to do on Deep Space Nine.
She'd simply shrugged when he'd suggested a drink and a game of dabo. She didn't mind the idea, but she didn't really see the attraction of the game either. Most dabo tables were fixed, and even when they weren't, Kathryn didn't seem to have very good luck at them.
Tom, however, seemed to be a natural.
"I think the owner's going to have to see the station's doctor about the jolt you gave his heart," she remarked as they left, gesturing to the Ferengi with her head.
Tom snorted.
"Eleven years ago, that Ferengi tried to swindle a very green Harry Kim." They exited onto the Promenade and Tom craned his neck, taking in the shops around them. "I can't say that I'm sorry for scaring him. Nor am I particularly concerned about his heart."
Kathryn chuckled, threading her arm through Tom's.
"So. How are you going to spend your winnings?"
She stopped in front of a jewelry vendor, picking up a necklace and looking at it closely. Tom watched her as she turned the carefully-wrought Andorian chain over in her hand.
"First," Tom began, leaning against a bulkhead, "I think I'm going to buy you dinner. And then we'll go from there."
Kathryn smiled, replacing the necklace, and they made their way through the crowd of people.
Three hours later, Tom stood with Kathryn, waiting for her transport to dock.
Leaning over a balcony, Tom looked down at the throngs of shoppers. Some lived on the station. Most were just traveling through. A Bajoran couple strolled arm-in-arm. A Bolian man walked with his child on his shoulder, pointing out sights as they picked their way.
Tom didn't particularly want to look at Kathryn, as he knew that it would only make what they were both feeling that much worse. Two months had passed far too quickly, and now they were going to have to go back to their real lives. They each were going to slip back into being alone.
"I'm not really sure to what to say."
Kathryn's voice demanded his attention, and he stood up from his position, turning to face her. Her mouth threatened a frown, and her eyes mirrored his own sadness. Behind her, people were already lining up in front of the bay doors.
"I'm not either," he admitted.
For a brief moment, he thought she might actually cry. But this was Kathryn Janeway and they were in public. Even out of uniform, the pips seemed to follow her.
"I've decided I'm going to start to using the privileges of my rank more," she said, the corners of her mouth turning upward. "Go off world whenever I please. Maybe hitch a ride on a starship from time to time."
He smiled at her, though something less than happiness inhabited his features.
"I hear the new Prometheus-class ships are very impressive. A friend once told me there are only three on active duty."
"Is that so?" She feigned interest. "Perhaps I should make that a priority; check one of them out. You wouldn't have any suggestions, would you?"
He shrugged.
"I hear the Titan's is often in the system. And the First Officer is rumored to be devilishly handsome." He closed one eye, adding, "I also hear the Captain has spent the last two months drunk on Romulan ale."
At this, Kathryn laughed loudly and Tom rested his lower back against the railing, content that he was able to make her happy for a little while longer.
"I'm going to miss you," she told him, shaking her head slightly.
"Not nearly as much as I'm going to miss you," he replied with a sad smile. "Although I did get you something to take your mind off it."
Kathryn regarded him with curiosity and Tom extended his hand forward, allowing the Andorian chain to cascade down from his fingers.
"Tom, you didn't!"
Her delight and surprise were greater than he anticipated. She didn't even bother to admonish him for getting her such an expensive gift.
"You should have something to remember the trip."
He slipped the chain over her head as he spoke, and she stayed close to him afterward, her eyes suddenly glinting with interest.
"How did you even manage to go back to that shop without me noticing? You were never gone from my side for more than five minutes."
The smile fell from his face, replaced by a seemingly serious expression.
"As I told you two months ago, Admiral: I'm a patient man."
She laughed again, putting her hand on his chest as he looked down at her softly.
Behind them, people were beginning to move through the bay doors. The station's computer announced the transport's departure in ten minutes.
"I should go," she murmured, still not pulling away from him.
"Probably."
With a sigh, Kathryn wrapped her arms around Tom, pulling him into a tight hug. He hugged her back fiercely, his long arms wrapping easily around her small frame. When she pulled away from him it was with reluctance, and his hands were still on her arms.
"I'll comm you as soon as I get back. And thanks again for my gift."
He smiled at her, and she reached up on her toes to give him a quick peck. A sign of affectionate and familiarity; a token of her deep, abiding friendship.
Just then, however, someone in the crowd bumped into her with their luggage, sending her forward into Tom.
The resulting motion wasn't elegant or, objectively speaking, romantic. Their noses bumped hard, her shoulder pressed painfully into his chest. But still, standing there in the middle of the crowd of people, he pulled her body flush with his own, his arms flying around her waist to prevent himself from going backward over the railing, and her soft lips crushed against his chapped ones.
They remained in the position a few beats longer than necessary.
When Kathryn drew away from him this time, it was quickly, her arms recoiling to her sides and her impatient feet almost backing her into someone else in the crowd.
"I have to go," she said, far too hurriedly. "My transport's leaving."
She forced a smile, while Tom stood helplessly watching her, his throat unable to produce sound.
"We'll talk as soon I get back to San Francisco."
Everything about her tone, the way she was practically running away from him, told Tom she was lying. Fear welled within him, but he didn't know what to do.
"Kathryn," he called after her, his face filled with concern and his voice failing to mask his rising worry.
When she retreated into the crowd with only a wave, the vague panic over took him and he clung to the railing behind him.
In the low light of the station, watching as Kathryn disappeared through the bay doors, Tom blinked once, twice. He wondered what in the hell had just transpired between them.