A/N: Sorry for the delay. This chapter was a struggle, for some reason, when it really shouldn't have been. Things should pick up after this one. Thanks to MissyHissy3 for betaing and suggestions. Thanks also to anyone reading and reviewing.

Chapter Five

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do

with your one wild and precious life?

~ The Summer Day - Mary Oliver

"I can't believe you're doing this," B'Elanna said. "I can't believe you're just letting her walk in and take this place away from us."

Chakotay put another pile of papers into the box on his desk as he glanced over at her. Torres was standing in the doorway of his office with her shoulders bunched and a thunderous look on her face. "She's not taking this place away from us, B'Elanna. She's doing the exact opposite."

The girl jerked her chin at the boxes he'd already packed. "Yeah? Could have fooled me. How come you're having to move out of your office?"

He stopped what he was doing and turned to face her, leaning against the edge of the desk. "Because she needs it more than I do. I hardly ever use it. It's no hardship for me to move my things out and let Ms Janeway and her assistant have it instead."

B'Elanna evidently wasn't convinced. "We don't need some dumb white puta hanging around here, telling us how to do things."

Chakotay frowned. "Hey. That's enough. What have I told you about using language like that? Respect others and you respect yourself. You address her as Ms Janeway or you don't talk about her at all, understand?"

B'Elanna crossed her arms, her heavy brow lowered in a fierce glower as she bit her lip. Chakotay suspected the girl was attempting to stop a whole stream of expletives from pouring out of her mouth. This was progress, he reflected. A year ago she wouldn't have even thought about holding back.

"You should have told her to sling it," the girl said. "We don't want her. We don't need her."

Chakotay turned and resumed his packing. "Actually, we do. I was on the verge of not being able to pay for this place. Now I don't have to worry about how I'm going to keep it open. The lease has been paid for two years as of this month," he looked over at the girl again, "which is plenty of time for me to get you right to the top of the tournament leagues."

B'Elanna shook her head. "And you trust her? Just like that? Why?"

"Because she didn't have to do this," Chakotay said. "She didn't have to come here at all and she certainly didn't have to let us stay. Another month or two and this place probably would have been empty anyway. So yes, I trust her."

The girl made a sound in her throat. "Getting old is making you soft, Coach."

He dumped the last of his things into the box and lifted it. "I'm still hard enough to make you drop and give me fifty the next time you're disrespectful, Torres. Remember that. Now help me with these boxes."

"I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?"

B'Elanna shrugged. The shifty look that settled on her face set alarm bells off in Chakotay's head. "I've got some place to be tonight. Gotta go now."

"Wait a minute. Remember our deal?"

"I know, Coach, I know," she said. "But I've been here, haven't I? I came early, just so I could train first. But now I've got to go."

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere you need to know about."

"B'Elanna…"

"I'll see you tomorrow, Coach. Promise."

"What are you even going to do with this place, anyway?" Tom asked. He was looking through the photographs of the Maywood site on Kathryn's iPad as she drove them both towards it. "It's nothing but concrete."

"Right now it's nothing but concrete," she told him. "In a year or two's time it could be anything. A park? An outdoor gym? A vegetable patch? Maybe all of the above."

Kathryn could feel Tom's eyes on her. She looked over at him at the next stop sign. At eighteen, Tom Paris could have fronted the campaign for the kind of boy her mother had warned her about when she was young. Sandy-haired, blue eyed, athletic and with a bravado younger women would probably mistake for self-assurance. They'd never known each other well – Kathryn had already been away at college when Tom was born - but they'd met at various functions where the Janeway and Paris families had had mutual friends. She'd seen him grow up, Kathryn realised, making her painfully aware that she was, technically, old enough to be his mother. That seemed to be happening more and more these days. It made her feel old. It reminded her that she'd dropped a stitch in the line of her life and it was now too late for her to go back and pick it up even if she wanted to.

"What?" she said.

Tom shook his head. "Nothing."

"Come on. If we're going to work together, you're going to have to talk to me."

He turned his head, his hair ruffling in the wind from his open window. The cast of his shoulders had become uncomfortable. "I heard my mum talking to your mum once."

Kathryn frowned. "Oh?"

Tom shrugged. "It was when all this was starting. When you first asked my dad for help. My mum was asking Gretchen where 'it' had all come from. I guess the 'it' she was talking about was this charity idea you'd had."

Kathryn's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Oh?"

"Gretchen said it was because you always refused to have therapy. After-" Tom stopped. "I don't even really know what happened. All I know is-"

"Tom," she said, cutting him off. In doing so she was proving her mother's point, but still.

The boy grimaced. "Sorry. I didn't mean- I just-" he sighed, his inherent gangly teenage awkwardness making itself felt. "I don't know why you want me to help you anyway. I'll only make a mess of it. Bet that's what dad told you, right?"

"I want you to help because I think we'll work well together," Kathryn told him. "And it sounds as if you and I both have things we'd like to prove to our parents, doesn't it?"

They pulled up outside the gym just in time to see a girl in a black vest, black skinny jeans and black sneakers walk out carrying a shabby backpack slung over one shoulder. She glanced up from her phone as the car came to a stop. A hostile expression set the girl's jaw as she looked at Kathryn.

"Wow," said Tom, as the girl turned away, her dark shoulder-length hair glinting in the early evening sun. "Who's that?"

"One of the students that trains in the gym."

"Yeah? Then things are looking up." He hurriedly opened the door and jumped out, calling down the street after the girl. "Hey, chica! Don't run away! Come and talk to me, bella!"

"Tom-" Kathryn began, but before she could say anything else the girl turned, still walking, and flipped him the bird as she shouted a string of obscenities in Spanish.

The boy held a hand over his heart, mock-wounded. "Aww! Don't be like that!"

"Tom!" Kathryn said, louder this time and with an edge that brooked no argument. "Stop it."

"What? I was just giving her a compliment!"

"No, Tom, that was harassment." Kathryn slammed the door. "What exactly were you expecting to gain from that? That she'd be impressed and give you a date?"

Tom blinked. "Er-"

"No, didn't think so. So what was the point? She has a right to walk down the street without being yelled at, don't you think?"

"I didn't mean anything by it!"

Kathryn walked past him into the building. "Then don't do it. I really don't need you antagonising anyone here, do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," he muttered as he followed her indoors.

"Let's not get off on the wrong foot, Tom," she said. "You and I both know how it'll go down if you don't even get through a week with me. All I need from you is to work hard and keep your head down. That's not a lot to ask, is it?"

"No," Tom admitted. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise to me. You can apologise to B'Elanna the next time you see her."

"B'Elanna?"

"I believe that's the name of the girl you were just cat calling."

"B'Elanna," Tom said again, thoughtfully. "Cool name."

Chakotay appeared in the hallway, loaded down with boxes. He smiled. "Kathryn," he said, his gaze taking in Tom, too. "Perfect timing. I'm just moving the last of my boxes out of your office."

Kathryn smiled back. "Thank you. We'll help. Chakotay, this is Tom Paris. He's going to be my assistant on this project."

Chakotay nodded a hello. "Tom. Welcome. Hang on a minute while I put these down."

The office he'd cleared for her was at the back of the building, at the end of the corridor beyond the two locker rooms. It was of a reasonable size, certainly big enough to fit an extra desk in for Tom. Kathryn put her hands on her hips and looked around it, nodding.

"It's perfect. Thank you, Chakotay, it's very kind of you to vacate it on my behalf."

"You're welcome. Oh, and-" he took something out of his pocket and held it out to her. "The key."

She took it and pulled out her car fob, wrestling the new key onto it. "Well," she said, "Looks as if we're all set." Kathryn looked around the room again, feeling a slight wave of something she couldn't name surfing beneath her ribcage. This was a beginning, she realised then. It seemed a long time since she'd experienced such a thing.

"If you have boxes you'd like me to help you bring in now, I'm happy to," Chakotay offered.

Kathryn turned with a smile and a shake of her head. "Thank you, but no – I'll bring the majority of my things tomorrow. I just wanted Tom to see where we'll be working and get a feel of the site and the office. We're probably going to be here quite a lot."

Chakotay checked his watch. "I'd introduce you to the kids properly, but most of them won't be here for another half hour at least. B'Elanna came in early, but she's gone now."

"Yes," Kathryn said, uncomfortably, glancing at Tom. "We saw her as we came in. Hopefully when we meet her again we can straighten a few things out."

Chakotay frowned. "Oh?"

Kathryn sighed. "Tom was… a little inappropriate for their first meeting. He'll apologise the next time he sees her."

Chakotay turned to Tom. Kathryn saw a darkness developing on his face that she hadn't seen before. He suddenly seemed a lot larger than he had a moment ago. "What did you do?"

Tom took Chakotay's question as an open challenge and narrowed his eyes, sticking his hands in his pockets in a gesture of insolence that made Kathryn wince. "Nothing."

"Doesn't sound like nothing."

Tom shrugged. "Tried to say hello, that's all. Not my fault if she's unfriendly."

Chakotay took a step forward and Kathryn actually felt a tiny pulse of alarm. She stepped between them, looking up at the older of the two men. As she did so she became acutely aware that the top of her head barely reached to this man's shoulder. He could throw her across the room as easily as swatting a fly.

"Please," she said. "I've spoken to Tom and he's aware that his behaviour was unacceptable. He will apologise and it won't happen again."

Chakotay's eyes were still locked with Tom's. "It had better not. B'Elanna has enough to deal with in her life without trouble following her into this place too. My kids know that I will not tolerate disrespect, of me or anyone else. Everyone's equal here. They get two strikes and they're out. You go near B'Elanna again except to apologise and the same will apply to you, Tom. Understand?"

"Yeah, whatever," said Tom, sullenly.

"Tom!" Kathryn exclaimed. "What did we just talk about before we walked in here?"

Chakotay's gaze drifted down to hers. There was a brief silence. Kathryn didn't move.

"Yes," the boy said, then. "I understand. I'm sorry."

Chakotay nodded. "Good." Then he turned and walked towards the gym, leaving them alone.

"Wow," Tom muttered. "Nice guy. Guess I'll just move the rest of these boxes myself then, shall I?"

His footsteps echoed against the quiet of the hallway as he went into the office. Kathryn stood still for a moment, thinking about territories and borders and the difficulties of merging one with the other, about how often such experiments ended in war instead of peace. She wondered, briefly, why it was she thought she could do any better.

Then she let out a breath and went to help Tom.

[TBC]