A/N: Okay, so I have to apologise for my A/N yesterday. It was pathetic and whiny and it shows me that I must still be pretty stressed and tired. For the record, I don't think either reviewer was a 'hater', just perhaps a little thoughtless, which god knows we all can be – especially me. And I also have to say thank you to everyone who took the time to reassure me, you are all too kind for taking the time. Anyway, let's get on with the story, such as it is.

Thirty One

"There is no nobility in hanging on to something that is miserable and false. We have to fight for our happiness in life."

Born with Teeth – Kate Mulgrew

"Did you have chance to take a look at the sample arrangements that Janet at Wild Blooms sent over?" Kathryn asked, as she bolted down her second coffee of the day but neglected to eat her toast. "I put them in your study last night, but perhaps you haven't seen them yet. I need to get her an answer by close of play tomorrow."

Mark watched as Kathryn rummaged through her bag and pulled out her phone, a look of concentration on her face as she scrolled rapidly through her messages. "I didn't see them yet. I'll look at them after breakfast."

"Once we've decided on the flowers, we can nail down the swagging, too," Kathryn went on. "Oh, and the napkins, they can coordinate."

"Swagging?" Mark repeated, mystified.

Kathryn looked up. "Yes, swagging. You know," she drew a rapid shape in the air with the hand that wasn't clutching her coffee mug, "on the back of the chairs. The marquee company lets you coordinate with your flower colours."

Mark nodded, wondering if she was going to eat anything at all this morning. "Right. Of course."

"That reminds me, I have to pick up the candles. They should be ready for collection today. I'll have to do that in between this meeting with Owen and my dress fitting." She made a note in her diary and then checked something else before adding, "I can stop by the caterer while I'm over that way too. They wanted me to try the new canapé." Kathryn looked up again with a frown. "You should be there for that, though. Can you make it this afternoon? Say…" she tilted her head as she looked at a schedule that Mark could see from across the table had turned the page almost black, it was so heavy. "Say between 3.30 and 4? Or would you mind if I just went ahead and made the decision myself?"

Mark smiled. "Why don't you go ahead and decide that one? I'm sure whatever it is will be delicious, everything they've given us to try so far has been."

Kathryn smiled back. "It has, hasn't it? We were so lucky to get Chef Daniels. I can't believe he was available."

Mark snorted. "For what he's charging, I can't believe he's ever not available. Not," he added hastily, "that I'm complaining that we went with him. I know it can't have been easy to find someone at all. I can't believe everything you've managed to do for this wedding on such short notice, Kath."

She grinned around another mouthful of coffee. "It's the famous Janeway stubborn streak. Comes in handy at crunch times like this."

"Still, it feels as if you haven't stopped even to take a breath for about two weeks. I can't remember the last time I saw you sit down to eat a meal." He indicated the now-cold example on her plate, which Molly was eyeing hopefully.

"Well, you know me," Kathryn said, lightly. "I like to be busy, and- Oh, shoot."

"What?"

Kathryn ran through her schedule again, shaking her head. "I've somehow got to get Phoebe's dress to her. She couldn't make the fitting today so she's got her own tomorrow. Dammit, I'll have to do that first. If I leave now-"

"I can take Phoebe's dress," Mark told her. "Just give it to me."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," he said, "I've got to do something useful!"

"Thank you – that would be such a help. It's in the black dress bag hanging on the back of the guest room door."

"No problem. Is there anything else I can do?"

"I don't think so. Today wouldn't be quite so crazy if I didn't have this meeting with Owen, but it's got to be done."

"What's it about?" Mark asked, watching as she picked up a piece of toast and slid it under the table to the waiting dog.

"I'm going to talk to him about transferring all managerial responsibility for the Maywood project to Tom. That will free up my time - we need to capitalise on all this publicity the project has been getting as soon as possible. I've found two more sites that we should get moving on straight away – one here in Los Angeles, the other up in Fresno."

"Wow," Mark said. "You think Tom Paris is ready for that responsibility?"

"Oh yes," she said, with transparent confidence. "He's more than ready for it, and he has such a good relationship with the community down there. Honestly, Mark, the transformation he's gone through is so good to see. It's a testament to exactly what projects like these are capable of."

Mark smiled. "It's a testament to what you are capable of, Kathryn Janeway," he said. "It's remarkable, the good you bring out in people."

She looked down at her hands. "Not always."

"Hey," Mark said, softly. "Yes. Always. Even me. It's one of the things I love most about you."

Kathryn shook her head with a laugh and a smile. "I didn't need to bring out any good in you, Mark. It's always been there. Now – I've got to run or I'm going to be late. Have you seen my keys?"

"Hallway table, in the oak wood bowl. I saw them when I came back from taking Molly out earlier."

"Right. Thank you. And thank you for dropping off Phoebe's dress, you're a lifesaver." She darted forward and kissed him quickly. "I'll see you later. I'll bring something back for dinner, OK? Can't be bothered to cook, I swear that oven hates me."

Mark caught Kathryn around the waist with one arm before she could move away. He pulled her close and kissed her - properly, deeply, remembering the first time he had ever kissed her this way. It had felt to him then as if the universe was in her lips. It still did, he realised, even this many years later. When they parted Kathryn opened her eyes and smiled up at him, leaning against his chest.

"What was that for?" she asked, her voice husky.

He smiled, holding her tighter, just for a moment. It took him a second to speak. "For being the most beautiful woman I'm ever going to kiss."

She grinned. "Smooth, Mr Johnson. Very smooth. Let's see if you still think that when I'm 60."

He kissed her forehead and let her go. "I'll be thinking it forever. Now get out of here, Ms Janeway. Can't keep Owen waiting. Time is money, right?"

The last person Phoebe expected to see when she opened the door was Mark Johnson. He stood on her step with a small smile on his face, holding up a dress bag.

"Kathryn asked me to drop this off for you," he said. "She's completely slammed today."

"Oh, right – thanks," Phoebe said. "That's kind of you."

Mark handed over the bag. Phoebe thought briefly that she should ask him in for coffee, but then wondered what on earth they would have to talk about. Her sister had been with this man for a decade and the two of them seemed to have exhausted whatever conversational interests they shared within six months. But Mark didn't seem to be inclined to leave. He put his hands in his pockets and shifted from one foot to another.

"Do you have a minute?" he asked. "I need to talk to you. About Kathryn."

"Oh," said Phoebe. "Sure, of course. Come in. I'll put some coffee on."

Mark followed her inside and into the kitchen. Phoebe caught him looking around as he did and realised that he'd probably never even seen it before. She frowned. Kathryn's right, she thought. I really need to make an effort with this guy.

"Have a seat," she said, cheerily. "Is there something you need help with for the wedding? I'm happy to pitch in with whatever, just let me know."

Mark sat at the kitchen table and leaned on his forearms, clasping both hands together. He gave a wry smile. "I keep saying the same to Kathryn," he said, "but she seems as if she has everything perfectly under control."

Phoebe laughed. "That sounds like my sister, all right. Perfectly in control."

Mark stayed silent and she looked around to find him staring at the table in front of him. The smile had been replaced by an anxious frown. As if feeling her gaze, he looked up and met her eye.

"Look," he said. "Phoebe, I know that we – we've never really got on. I know that you don't like me, really, and-"

"That's not true," Phoebe protested, feeling herself flush a little. "That's not true, Mark. I guess we just don't know each other, that's all."

He gave her a keen look. "Kathryn and I will have been together for ten years next year. Seems to me that we should probably know each other pretty well by now, and that we probably would if we wanted to."

Phoebe looked down at her hands and nodded, conceding the point.

"Anyway," Mark went on, "that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

Phoebe turned away and poured the coffee. "All right. What, then?"

He sighed but said nothing. When Phoebe put his mug down in front of him she realised that Mark was trying to work out what to say, and how.

"I've always known," he began, his tone very deliberate, "that I love Kathryn more than she loves me. And I'm not saying that to be self-pitying, or so you can deny it. It's just a fact. And I was OK with that. Because I knew I could be what she needed. I knew I could make her happier than she was. And – and I know this is going to make me sound completely unromantic and I'm sure that's one of the things you don't like about me, but this is the way it is – we are compatible. We fit well enough together to make a good whole. Does that make sense?"

Phoebe nodded, hands clasped hard around her mug. This wasn't a conversation she'd ever expected to have with her brother-in-law. "Yes."

He nodded. "I wanted… to make up for what she went through with your father. With Justin. I wanted to be a safe haven. I think she needed that. Don't you?"

Phoebe felt her eyes fill with tears. She nodded. "Yes. She did."

"I think I was that, Phoebe. And I think it would have worked," he said, his voice quavering slightly. "I think we would have worked. If she hadn't met Chakotay."

Phoebe blinked and then wiped her cheeks, quickly. "Mark – whatever you think happened there… whatever you're imagining… Kathryn would never cheat on you. Ever."

He shook his head. "I know what happened. She told me, and I believe everything she said. And I know she wouldn't be unfaithful. But that's-" Mark stopped and took a deep breath. "I didn't know her when she was with Justin. I didn't know her right after it had happened, but she's told me a little, over the years. What was she like, afterwards? In herself, I mean. How did she cope?"

Thinking about that time was painful, even for Phoebe. She rarely went back there and never willingly. She swallowed, staring at her coffee. "First she shut down. She just… wouldn't come out of her room. She slept and slept. It was terrifying, seeing her like that, my dynamo sister. And then… then she came back, and she was like Kathryn distilled to her purest form." Phoebe shook her head. "Looking into her eyes was like looking at steel. And she started to work. She worked and she worked and she worked, as if she'd never stop and as if there was nothing else in the world worth doing. She set herself goal after goal and she met every one. She just kept moving, as if doing that meant whatever she was feeling couldn't catch up with her."

"Single minded," Mark said. "Determined to make things work. To get things done. To get things right."

Phoebe nodded. "Yes."

"The way she's been with this wedding ever since Chakotay woke up."

Phoebe opened her mouth and then shut it again. They stared at each other, and Phoebe would never have believed her heart could break for Mark Johnson, but it had. "She loves you, Mark," she whispered. "She really does. She's not lying about that."

"I know," he said. "She's not lying to me. She's lying to herself, so resolutely and with such good intention that she believes it. She loves me enough to do that, and it makes me love her even more. But we both know that doesn't make it right. You've known that all along. Haven't you?"

This time Phoebe didn't wipe her cheeks. "What are you going to do?"

Mark smiled quietly. "I think there's only one thing I can do, isn't there?"

[TBC]