Star Trek Voyager characters are the property of Paramount Pictures.
PROVIDENCE
CHAPTER 5
2378
Voyager was home and had been for three months. In the kitchen of her apartment in San Francisco, a large kitchen with a sunny aspect, Kathryn poured two cups of coffee to accompany two slices of chocolate cake. She took her time, wanting the task to last longer than it should, as she was not eager to return to the lounge where her guest was waiting. For her guest was Mark and she wasn't sure how he would take the news she had to give.
The news that she had been pregnant with his child when Voyager got stranded.
The news that she wanted to complete the pregnancy now.
She hoped he would be supportive, and her every instinct told her that he would be, but their circumstances now were very different to the ones she had imagined when she'd first learned she was pregnant. Then she had believed they would be reunited, that they would marry as planned and raise the child together. That was out of the question now. Not only was Mark married to someone else but she was no longer in love with him.
And yet...
And yet she still loved him. A part of her always would.
"Where are these coffees coming from, Kath?" Mark suddenly asked, entering the room. "The Delta Quadrant?"
"No," Kathryn laughed, turning to him. "I was just...well, they're ready."
Mark picked up a coffee, followed by a plate of cake, but then fixed his gaze on his former fiancee. "No more beating about the bush, Kath. Tell me what's wrong."
"Oh, there's nothing wrong," Kathryn said, picking up her own coffee and taking a sip. "No, not at all, I'm just..."
"Lying to someone who knows you too well," Mark interrupted. "So spit it out, Kath. Give me the real reason you've called me over today."
At that, Kathryn half smiled. "There's no fooling you, is there? And you're right. There is something."
Mark gestured to stools, long silver ones before a black marble breakfast bar. "Shall we?"
Kathryn hesitated, but then nodded. Even though she didn't need to sit, Mark might.
"So, what's troubling you, Kath?" Mark asked as they sat.
"I don't really know how to tell you," Kathryn replied honestly. "In my mind I have a million times, but now that the moment's come, I'm lost for words."
Mark suddenly looked uncomfortable and shifted anxiously in his seat. "It's not about us, is it? I mean, what we had was special, but I'm married now and..."
"Oh, no," Kathryn quickly reassured him, "it's nothing like that, I just..."
But she never got to finish the sentence as suddenly The Doctor materialized before them. He was out of uniform, clad in what appeared to be a shepherd's outfit, and was singing. When he realized where he was, however, he shut-up instantly and looked around in confusion.
"Admiral? What's going on?"
Kathryn got to her feet. "I could ask you the same question."
"Me? How am I supposed to know? One moment I'm rehearsing for an opera, the next I'm here!"
"How strange. There must have been a transport mix up. It happens from time to time."
"Well, it's mighty inconvenient! And I've a good mind to complain! I was just getting into my part!"
"You have my sympathy," Kathryn replied, the sentiment genuine. "But, as you're here, let me introduce you to Mark. My former fiancé. I don't believe you've met."
At this, The Doctor flinched. "Mark? As in Mark Johnson?"
"That's right," Mark said, getting to his feet and extending his hand. "It's an honor to finally meet you."
The Doctor took his hand and, rather absently, shook it. "Likewise."
"I'm very impressed by all your achievements in the Delta Quadrant," Mark went on. "You're quite the unsung hero."
"Not quite so unsung," Kathryn teased. "You heard for yourself."
"Yes," Mark laughed. "And you're very good, Doctor. I'm not surprised you're in an opera."
"Was in an opera," The Doctor wailed. "If there's anything sure to get me fired, it's a disappearing act!"
"Well," Kathryn smiled, "if you explain what happened, I'm sure they'll be understanding. In fact, if you give me the coordinates, I'll request a return transport for you now."
"Thank you, Admiral, but I'd like words with you first."
"With me?"
"Yes, and in private."
This demand surprised Kathryn, but she indulged it. "Very well, Doctor, we'll talk in the lounge. Mark, please excuse us."
Mark did and Kathryn led The Doctor into the lounge. As soon as the door shut behind them, The Doctor spoke, his voice a loud whisper.
"You never told me that Mark is Caucasian," he said.
Kathryn frowned. "I wasn't aware I was supposed to. Why? What does it matter?"
"A great deal, Admiral. Because if he's Caucasian, he isn't the father of your baby!"
"Oh, of course he is," Kathryn declared. "Who else could be?"
"You tell me. Because the father of your baby isn't Caucasian. He's Native American."
Kathryn's eyes widened. "Native American?"
"Which made me think Mark was too. But it turns out he's not."
There was a long silence, then Kathryn broke it. "I...I don't know what to say, Doctor. You must be mistaken. Mark is most definitely my baby's father. There's no way it could be anyone else."
"I'm not mistaken, Admiral. The father is definitely Native American."
"But the only Native American I know is Chakotay and it can't possibly be him. I was pregnant, though didn't know it, before we got stranded."
"Are you sure of that? Absolutely sure?"
"As sure as the math make me. Why? What are you suggesting?"
"I don't know, Admiral. All I can tell you is that Mark Johnson, the Caucasian man in the kitchen, is not the father of your baby."
Kathryn raised her hand to her confused brow. "If that really is the case, Doctor, then your dropping by right now could not be timed better as I was just about to tell him that he is."
"Really? You were going to tell him right now?"
"The very second you appeared."
"Bizarre, Admiral. This whole thing is bizarre."
"I quite agree. But I refuse to accept that Mark is not the father without proof."
"Then I suggest we go to my surgery and obtain it. But not now, Admiral. I must get back to rehearsal."
"Tonight, then." It was going to be hell waiting, but if The Doctor had an opera to return to, she had a guest.
"Tonight is fine. Say 20:00 hours?"
Kathryn nodded. "I'll be there."
The Doctor then left, the beam out requested by Kathryn, and in a daze she returned to the kitchen. Mark was still sitting at the breakfast bar and he questioned.
"Are you ok, Kath? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I...I'm fine," she said. "But the thing I wanted to talk about...it doesn't matter now."
"Doesn't matter as in doesn't matter, or doesn't matter as in 'I don't want to talk about it?'"
"Doesn't matter as in doesn't matter," she said, joining him at the bar. "At least I think."
Mark put down his cup. "I know you've always been fiercely independent, Kath, and have never wanted to burden others with your problems, but if something was wrong...like you were ill...you would tell me? We've been friends for...it seems all our lives. Just because...well, I still care."
"I know you do, Mark," Kathryn said, sitting. "And yes, if I was ill I would tell you. But I'm fine. Truly."
"Truly? You don't look it."
Kathryn downed what was left of her cooling coffee. "Well, my life is always everything but simple."
"I won't argue with that. But are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"
"I'm sure." She gestured to his empty plate. "I'm also sure you'd like another slice of cake."
At that, Mark laughed. "And you another coffee. Old habits die hard, eh?"
"Always," Kathryn said, mustering a smile. "And long may they."
END OF CHAPTER 5