Stardate 87264.8
Alpha quadrant, sector 001
San Francisco, Earth

The shuttle slowed almost imperceptibly as it approached its target, just enough to make its one passenger look up from the PADD she was working on. She glanced down at the land below her and smiled. It was exactly as she remembered, exactly as it should have been. There was a neighborhood, with houses that weren't too small or too large. The backyards were wooded, concealing their occupants from each other. The front yards were open, the perfect places for kids to come together and play—but if that weren't enough, there was a park right across the lane. It was only a few kilometers away from Starfleet headquarters, making it a popular place for Starfleet officers and their families. Young officers moved their families here to raise them, and the lone shuttle passenger was coming to visit a family that had done just that. That was over thirty years ago—the house had stayed the same, the neighborhood was the same, but everyone had grown up. She couldn't help the pang of nostalgia at the thought.

"You can let it down wherever you get the chance," Admiral Kathryn Janeway told her pilot, a young ensign less than a year out of the Academy. "And then you can go ahead and leave—I'll be here for several hours, and I know a way back."

"As you wish, Admiral," the ensign said. "There is a shuttle landing site in the park, if that's okay."

"That'll be perfect, Ensign. Thank you."

The admiral took a deep breath as she stepped out of the shuttle. She didn't visit as often as she wished she had, and with her 80th birthday not too far into the future, she knew she wouldn't get many more chances. It was very close to Starfleet Headquarters, but she hadn't worked at Headquarters for years. There was a war going on, and Starfleet's Fleet Admiral spent very little time in the office bearing her name plate. She had bigger things to do than sit behind a desk, and as much as she wished that this visit was about seeing some old friends, it had an ulterior motive.

Despite the years since her last visit, Admiral Janeway still knew exactly which house she was looking for. She had been at the housewarming party thirty years before, she had celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, and promotions there, and it would always have a place in her heart. As she walked, she took in her surroundings, and thought about the course of her life and the circumstances that brought her to that moment, the decisions that she had made. Most significant were the seven years she spent as the captain on the U.S.S. Voyager. If it hadn't been for those years, she would not be making this particular visit. If it weren't for those years, there wouldn't be anyone in this neighborhood for her to visit.

She saw a woman walking toward her and broke into a grin. She hadn't been noticed yet, because her old friend was occupied with something else—the two-year-old boy she was walking with. Just when Janeway was going to call out to her, she looked up, did a double take, and put on a very surprised expression.

"Admiral," she said with a smile. "This is a surprise."

"Not a bad one, I hope," Janeway replied, still smiling. "And I take it this little guy means that my goddaughter is around here somewhere?"

Captain B'Elanna Torres smiled again, this time sadly, as she bent to pick up her grandson. "No, unfortunately. Miral and Richard had a two week mission, and they dropped Owen off for some free babysitting. Tom and I have been taking turns taking days off to watch over him. We were just heading back home after an afternoon at the park."

The admiral smiled as she fell in step with her old friend. She held the rank of captain, but did not and would never command a ship. B'Elanna Torres, once her chief engineer on Voyager, had decided to stay in Starfleet after their return, "for a few years," and had been successfully rising in the ranks ever since, now designing warships and overseeing their construction and testing, splitting time between Starfleet Headquarters and Utopia Planitia on Mars. She had aged well over the years—she was in her sixties, but didn't look it, the result of her half-Klingon blood. Her dark hair was just beginning to gray, and her face showed only the lines that come from raising three kids--especially those three kids. "If you don't mind me asking, Admiral, what brings you here today? Last I heard, you were raising hell on Deep Space 12."

Janeway smiled. "I would hardly say I was 'raising hell'. I was merely explaining to Captain Michelson the importance of keeping his station up to date and ready for any circumstance."

"That still didn't answer my question."

"An old admiral can't visit some of her former senior officers?" Janeway asked as a reply. "I had some business at Headquarters, and I figured since I was so close, I might as well stop by."

"Well, you're always welcome to visit. If anything, we wish you would do it more often."

"You know I wouldn't want to intrude. We were in each other's business every day for seven years; sometimes a little distance is healthy."

Torres was about to point out that this 'little distance' had been a complete lack of contact for over two years, but decided against it. There was no use starting an argument. "Have you heard anything new from anyone recently?" she asked instead as they entered the house and walked into the kitchen. "Do you want anything?" Torres offered, standing at the replicator.

"I'll have some tea, if that's okay." B'Elanna nodded, and got the tea for the admiral and coffee for herself.

The two officers sat in the kitchen with their drinks, getting each other up to date on the events of the past two years. The admiral told her former chief engineer some stories about the ships and stations she had been visiting, and Captain Torres told her former captain about some of her plans for new ships. She was about to launch into a detailed explanation about a new shield design she was working on when the admiral abruptly changed the subject.

"I haven't heard anything about the twins lately. How have they been?"

Torres was caught momentarily off-guard, but recovered quickly. She should have figured the conversation would swing back over to her children, as it often did. The twins, Joe and Abbey, were always a favorite topic. She didn't know if that was from amusement at their antics, or people being impressed by their achievements and accomplishments. Probably both. "They're both doing well. Joe is still working for Starfleet Intelligence, and still can't tell us what he's doing. He seems to love the work, though. I guess that's all a parent can really ask, for the kids to be happy with what their doing. He's been dropping hints that he might have a promotion coming up soon, so I guess whatever he's doing is impressing his commanding officers."

"As his parents' former commanding officer, that's hardly surprising," Janeway commented with a smile. Someone had joked once that there were three requirements to being a Paris: unbelievable talent, an almost-unhealthy dose of ambition, and stunning good looks. Joseph Paris was no exception to that rule, and knew it. He wasn't the twin Janeway had come to ask about, however. "What about Abbey?"

B'Elanna smiled slightly. "Less than two months away from graduation from Starfleet Medical Academy. She's actually going to be coming over for dinner tonight. Tom has his flight physical this afternoon, and they'll be heading over after that. In fact, they should be here in about an hour or so. You're more than welcome to stay for dinner and talk to her yourself. I'm sure she'd love to see you."

"You know, I think I will," Admiral Janeway said. "It'll be good to see them both again." She figured there was no need to tell B'Elanna exactly why she had come in the first place; she would hear it soon enough when Janeway got the opportunity to talk to Ensign Abigail Paris.