A/N: Sorry for the delayed update. Hope some people are still reading… Big thanks to MissyHissy3 for the beta.

Chapter Seven

The answer came

like a shot in the back

while you were running from your lesson,

which might explain

why years later all you could remember

was the terror of the question

Marrow – Ani DiFranco

"I really thought more people would attend this evening," Kathryn said, as she and Tom helped Chakotay to put away the chairs they'd set out for the consultation. "There was quite a crowd watching the ground breaking, but that doesn't seem to have translated into further interest."

She glanced at the clock on the gym wall, wondering whether they'd set the consultation time too late, but it was barely eight o'clock. Too early, then, perhaps? Kathryn had no idea. She was disappointed. Only about ten residents had turned up and half of them had been Chakotay's students.

"I don't think lack of interest is the problem," Chakotay told her, as he lifted a pile of chairs and moved them to the corner of the room.

"What, then?" she asked.

Chakotay came back towards her. The look on his face told her he was trying to frame his next words carefully. She was learning this about him: that he rarely, if ever, spoke without thinking. Instead his words were weighed, measured and balanced before being deliberately applied. Thus it hadn't taken her long to learn that when he had something to tell her, she should listen. She both trusted his judgement and valued his opinion, because he never stated either without due consideration.

This habit of cautious speaking came from working with his students, she suspected. There had been several evenings over the past two weeks when she'd had cause to still be in her office when they began to arrive for their club sessions. She was slowly learning who was who, the previously indistinguishable crowd resolving firmly into individuals as she put faces and characteristics to names. Kathryn had done her best to be open and friendly and they were slowly coming around, although some – B'Elanna most notably – were resolutely suspicious of her presence in their territory.

She'd found herself listening to snippets here and there as Chakotay's voice lifted over the echoing timbre of the gym and the repetitive noise of training. He was firm and exacting but also sympathetic. He'd told her recently that all of the kids in his care had been on their final chances at school when he'd taken them on. Somehow, by keeping them together and mutually interested in this crumbling gym, he was managing to turn them around – just. If Kathryn hadn't previously understood how important the club was, she did then. She also understood, perhaps better than Chakotay did himself, why these kids responded to him better than they had to other models of authority. He clearly put his all into this place, into these students. Kathryn had seen him come in tired and leave exhausted, but he'd never been absent. Chakotay demanded that the kids put their all into his training scheme, and in return he did the same. He gave them more attention and care than most of them had ever seen outside their own homes, and probably often inside, too.

She wondered what room that left him for a personal life, for his own family. She wondered whether the girlfriend he'd never mentioned again after the first time they'd met was as understanding as he probably needed her to be. She wondered why any of this mattered to her, and told herself that it didn't.

"It's not lack of interest," Chakotay told her. "It's fear. That day of the ground-breaking, when we saw the Crimsons – that was a reminder that this area is their territory."

"The Crimsons?"

"The group on the bikes with red bandanas. That's what they're called."

Kathryn nodded. "I see. The mugger that tried to grab my purse the first time I came here – he was one of them?"

Chakotay nodded. "Probably no one particularly important, but yes. And now they're clearly keeping an eye on what's going on here. They've noticed. And around here, the way to live safely is not to be noticed, especially by the Crimsons."

Kathryn shrugged. "So what do I do?"

"There's nothing you can do, Kathryn, except give up, which can't imagine you'd ever contemplate."

"Too right."

Chakotay smiled. "Then you'll just have to carry on and hope that the gang will eventually realise your garden is no threat to them and leave you alone. And in the meantime, keep your eyes open and be safe."

She sighed. "But it's not supposed to be my garden," she said. "It's supposed to be their garden – the people who didn't come tonight, I mean. I won't be the one still here in three years' time, I won't be the one maintaining it. The idea is that's for the community to take over once I've moved on to another project somewhere else. I won't be here."

Something flickered across his face, just for a second. Then he smiled at her. "Then I guess you and I will just have to take one step at a time and hope that slowly, others join us."

Kathryn surprised him – and herself – by reaching out and briefly squeezing his hand, an impulse driven by a sudden wave of gratitude. Chakotay had enough on his plate already, but here he was, late on a Saturday night, for no other reason than that she needed him. It occurred to her for a second that this was something that could not be said of Mark, who had cried off. She pushed the thought away, vaguely guilty over this comparison, which she knew at once she should not have made. After all, in retrospect she was grateful that Mark had not come. He would have been bored out of his mind, and the poor turn out would also have reinforced his opinion that Kathryn was wasting her time here. Better that he see the project when there was something real to show for her efforts.

"You're not afraid of being noticed yourself?" she asked, as she dropped her hand.

He blew out a breath of air in a brief approximation of a laugh. "Oh, they've already noticed me. Most of my kids would already be mules if I didn't keep them busy training instead. That doesn't exactly mark me down as a useful guy to have around, in their books."

Kathryn frowned. "So you intervening when we first met can't have helped." She had a sudden flashback, a memory of that night. "That's what B'Elanna meant, wasn't it, when she said there could be trouble? She meant for you. Has there been trouble, Chakotay? Something you're not telling me?"

He smiled at her concern and shook his head. "You don't need to worry about me. I can look after myself. And no, there hasn't been."

There was a clatter behind them as Tom shoved the last of the chairs back into their place. "Done!" he called. "Do you mind if I call it a night, Kathryn?"

"No, of course not, Tom – I'm about to do the same. Thanks for your help tonight."

"No problem," he said. "You want me to wait and see you to your car, or…"

"Thanks, but I'll be fine," Kathryn told him. "It's just outside. I'll see you Monday – have a good weekend. You should go too, Chakotay, you must have better places to be. Thanks again for being here."

"It's no problem, Kathryn."

She smiled at him, then went to collect a couple of things from her office. When she came out again she'd been expecting to find the gym empty, but Chakotay was standing in the hallway.

"Were you waiting for me?" she asked. "You didn't have to, Chakotay – I've got a key, remember? I can lock up."

"I know you can," was all he said.

Kathryn's car really was parked just outside. But somehow, Chakotay's presence just behind her as she locked the gym door and then crossed to her vehicle didn't feel out of place in the least.

They said a final goodnight to each other and she pulled away from the curb, glancing in her rear-view mirror. Chakotay watched her drive away and then turned, digging his hands into his pockets as he headed up the street. The intermittent orange glow of the sparse streetlamps lit him like a silhouette until he melted into shadow, and was finally gone from sight.

A long sigh escaped her. With it came a strange sense of melancholy that Kathryn was still puzzling over as she spied a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye. Kathryn glanced back to the corner she'd just turned and saw a young face framed by thick black hair. The girl was standing still, as if waiting for something. A figure walked towards her out of the shadows - a woman with hunched shoulders. She brushed past the waiting girl with barely a pause.

The movement was so quick that Kathryn almost didn't see it, but it was there. As the woman passed her, the girl flicked out her hand, palm up. In it was something small and white that disappeared from sight as her buyer covered it with her own fingers. A moment later the girl's hand was back in her pocket, whatever drugs she was selling replaced by a fold of cash.

The transaction had taken less than ten seconds. Kathryn's car slid on into the night, her melancholy replaced by anxiety.

She'd recognised the girl on the corner.

B'Elanna Torres.

"A lecture tour?"

It was Sunday morning and they were sitting in the garden room, the strong Californian sunlight filtering through the pale shades that covered the quartered windows. Kathryn was seated in her favourite armchair, reading. She loved to read, though she rarely had time. Sunday morning was set aside for at least one hour devoted to whatever she had going at the time. She'd been mid-way through Kingsolver's Prodigal Summer when Mark's announcement had startled her back to the present.

He was sitting on the couch beneath the window, the LA Times spread across his lap. "Yes, Kathryn," he said. "There's no need to sound quite so surprised. I know it's been a while, but it seems some places still think I have something to contribute."

"Of course you do," she said, putting down the book. "I'm just surprised you've accepted, that's all. You've said before that you've had enough of travel to last you a lifetime."

"Well, I guess I've changed my mind," he said.

"I'm glad," Kathryn told him, wondering why there seemed to be an edge in the air this morning. "Tell me more about it – where is it going to be?"

"Details are still being finalised, but so far they've confirmed in Oslo, Helsinki, Berlin and Paris, with other cities and dates still to be added, probably in Britain and Italy."

"Europe!" Kathryn exclaimed. "When?"

"The first date in Oslo is booked for a month's time. I thought you could come with me," Mark smiled. "It's been too long since you took a vacation. Think of the variety of gardens you'll be able to visit."

Kathryn was slightly stunned. "Mark, I – I can't. I'd love to, of course I would – but I can't take time out of the Maywood project now. Perhaps later, once the work is more established I could, but you know how critical the early months are. I need to be here. Besides, I've got Owen's benefit dinner in six weeks. I have to be there to speak at it – Owen and all the contributors will expect that."

He shifted the paper from his lap and leaned forward. "Ask him to postpone it."

"I can't do that! You know what it takes to organise one of those things."

Mark stood up. "I have no idea why it's such a big deal. As far as I can see it means shoving some food on a plate, asking people to kit themselves out in ridiculously expensive clothes for an evening and then charging them an equally ridiculous ticket fee for the privilege. As for the Maywood project," he said, with barely-concealed distaste, "I'm willing to bet that delaying whatever you're doing over there for two months isn't going to make much of a difference."

Kathryn swallowed the sudden belch of anger that surged into her throat. She took a breath. "I have obligations, Mark. I know you don't understand them, or even support them, but I've committed to this and I can't just drop them to go on vacation. You know I can't and I don't understand why you would even ask me to."

Mark walked to the window and looked out over the garden. "Yes, foolish of me. I thought perhaps that just for once, you might put me – us – first. But you'd prefer to spend time on this… project, instead."

She stood up. "Don't do that," she said. "That's not fair. This isn't about us. I would come with you if I could, you know I would."

He turned to look at her, and the unhappy expression in his eyes took Kathryn by surprise. "Would you, Kathryn? Really?"

"Of course I would! Europe, with you? I'd love it! Mark – what's all this about, really?"

"I hardly ever see you any more, Kath. Even when you're here you're somewhere else. I thought – some time together, away from everything, would be good."

Kathryn sighed. "I know I've been busy and preoccupied. But it's just work."

"Is it?"

"What else would it be?"

He grimaced a smile. "An excuse not to be here, with me?"

She rubbed a hand over her eyes. "I don't understand where this is coming from. You know how I am when I have a new project to get underway."

"Yes, I do. And this-" he stopped.

"This what?" she asked, impatience beginning to override concern.

"The last time I spoke to Owen, he said you seemed… enthused."

Kathryn raised her eyebrows. "And that's a bad thing?"

"No, it's just-" Mark paused again. "Owen said he hasn't seen you like this for years. Not this excited and… invested. But that's not – that's not how you are when you're here, Kath. You're absent. It makes me wonder if you'd rather be somewhere else."

Kathryn refused to acknowledge the tiny pulse of guilt that danced through her chest. It had no reason or right to be there. "I don't know what you want from me, Mark," she said. "To feel bad because I'm enjoying my work? This matters to me. I want to get it right."

Mark nodded, still looking unhappy. "It just seems as if you'd rather get that right than this," he said, gesturing between them.

She was flabbergasted. "We're engaged to be married! We're committed to each other, and that means we've got the rest of our lives to get us right! And I thought – I thought we were right. I thought you were happy?"

He crossed the room towards her. "Of course I am. I just sometimes wonder if you are. If work makes you enthused in a way that I can't, then what role do I have, really?"

She shook her head. "I wish you'd come to the site. Maybe then you'll understand why I'm so invested in it. Why it's taking up so much of my time and energy to get it going."

Mark touched his hands to her arms. "When I get back. All right? I'm not going to have time before then now. But when I get back from Europe, you can show me everything."

She smiled. "It's a deal. By then it should be well underway, too. I'm determined. It's going to be amazing."

He pulled her close with a sigh. "I don't doubt it in the slightest. And you know what else we should do when I get back?"

"What's that?" she asked.

"We should finally set a date for the wedding. Let's just do it, Kath, this year –before we lose another summer."

[TBC]