Tom
ooo
It's showtime.
We're making last-minute adjustments: Karlo fusses over his paintings, which annoys Draso since I have to adjust the emitters. She finally drags him off so I can finish. We're expecting a good crowd. Draso is unveiling the exhibit on a First Friday — a monthly event for visitors to do "gallery crawls" with stops at neighborhood restaurants and bars.
A few last-second tweaks, then Draso winks at me as she opens the front door. I watch quietly: Kathryn's promised that she'll be here for the exhibit's unveiling. As people come in, I catch sight of Nico, who towers above everyone; his hands are resting protectively on Kathryn's and Phoebe's shoulders.
The Janeway sisters look wonderful. I suspect Phoebe coordinated their outfits: Both are wearing casual wrap dresses; Phoebe's in a dusky rose, Kathryn's in a dark green that shows off her red hair and fair complexion. She's scanning the room and smiles as she catches sight of me.
Draso quiets the crowd and begins. Introductions, a brief explanation, then she nods at me, and I hit the switch. It works, thank God, and the crowd applauds in appreciation. Draso breathes a sigh of relief and squeezes my shoulder.
Kathryn threads through the crowd to reach me. "You did a wonderful job," she says as she gives me a hug and a quick kiss. I pull her close and hold her for a moment as Phoebe appears and gives me a thumb's up.
Things get a bit busy after that. I'm talking to people, plus trading lots of info chips. With any luck, more work will come from it. At one point, I see Kathryn and Phoebe talking to a Trill couple. I get the impression Kathryn knows them, so I slide over.
Kathryn looks pleased to see me. "This is Tom," she tells them. "This is Dr. Reseil Tatnim and her husband, Dr. Jogan Rox." Turns out Dr. Rox teaches at the Art Institute in Toronto and is quite complimentary about my work. He excuses himself, and I turn my attention to Dr. Tatnim.
"So how do you and Kathryn know each other?" I ask.
"We met at the Astronomy Society convention," she says. "And please, it's Reseil."
"Well, Reseil," I say, "do you work at Daystrom, too?"
"I do," she says pleasantly. "It's nice having Kathryn there; it gives me an excuse to take a coffee break. She talks about you and Phoebe and your work," she finishes.
Her husband returns, and Reseil checks a chronometer. "Oops, we want to visit some of the other galleries before they close," she says apologetically. "It was so good to meet you all. I told Jogan that we have to come back and see more of the area, and we should all go to dinner."
They leave, and Kathryn heads to the ladies' room. Phoebe leans over for a quiet word. "I don't know about you, but that was like talking to my dad. He was a master at deflecting conversations."
"Mine is, too. I think they teach it in Command School," I chuckle. I'm sure that Kathryn's friend is part of that research group, but I also know that she won't admit to it. At least not right now.
ooo
Kathryn
ooo
The party continues after Draso locks the gallery doors; she's cleared out a space for a small dance floor. Tom gives me that devilish grin and holds out his hand …
He holds me close as we move around the floor … close enough so I can tell that he has more on his mind than dancing. My body does the talking for me, and his eyes darken in response. I note that my dear sister is watching us … and the brat is smirking.
It's late when the party finally breaks up. We demur the invitations to bar crawl and head home. We're holding each other close as we walk, partly affection, partly desire, and partly because the wind is blowing in from the channel, and it's damned chilly.
Emotionally, Tom is flying high right now. He has a meeting with another artist about coding holographic art, and a couple of those info chips in his pocket hold the possibility of more work. All things considered, it's a good start.
We creep up the stairs, muffling our laughter so as not to disturb the neighbors. I punch my code, and Molly rouses herself when the door opens. I plop on the couch to take off my shoes, and he settles next to me. "You did feed the cat before you left, didn't you?" I ask, which makes him chuckle.
"Sure, and he's very appreciative. He brought me a dead mouse yesterday," he says, which sends us both into a fit of laughter.
Somewhere in all this, he slips an arm around me. "Thank you," he whispers as he brings me closer. "You've saved me again."
"No, you've done all the work," I remind him. "I certainly didn't plan ..." I can't finish because his mouth is on mine, gentle at first, then more insistent as I respond.
This certainly isn't the first time we've kissed. But now… I swear, time has stopped. All I know is the feel of his body and the softness of his lips as they move from my mouth to my neck. Then, I'm in his lap, and he's found that sensitive spot behind my ear, and that newly awakened need in me ignites. I lean back and see the same fire in his eyes.
We had agreed to take things slowly, but frankly, I've already spent too many years denying my wants and needs. It's time for me to come home.
"Let's find a more comfortable spot," I whisper as I start to move off his lap. But his hold tightens as he searches my face, looking for any trace of doubt. I do the same.
"You're sure?" he asks.
In response, I lightly run my fingers along his jaw and hear him gasp. "Oh, yes," I take a breath. "Are you?"
He gives me that devilish grin again. "Oh, hell yes," he whispers …
ooo
Kathryn
ooo
Late fall now. It's damp and cold, and recent rains have stripped the leaves from the trees. Though at the moment, I'm too damn busy to care.
We have roughly seven weeks before my task force delivers that preliminary report. On the surface, it sounds straightforward; in reality, it's anything but. Every bit of data sent from patrols and outposts incrementally changes the outcome, and the report has to reflect that.
So, we've spent several weeks developing strategies for various scenarios — from a static state to a catastrophic change. Until a week ago, I was confident that we could deliver an up-to-date, coherent report on time.
I should have known ...
"The president has decided that our fellow Fed members should be involved in the project," Nechayev informed us in a hastily called vid conference. "Fed Science is talking with the Vulcans and Andorians about sharing data." She frowned slightly as she looked at a PADD. "Apparently the Klingons have already agreed to send data. Seems they, too, scan the Romulan system."
"How long before we get any of this data?" I asked.
"That, Admiral, will depend on how persuasive you are," she said, and I resisted the urge to throw something at the screen. "I'm sending contact data; I'm sure you can set something up with the Klingons. And perhaps you can reach a friendly agreement with the Vulcans and Andorians to get their data. Or at least part of it."
"Oh, my God," Scott breathed after we ended the call. "We have to redo everything, don't we?"
"Well, yes and no," Reseil said. "The Vulcans and Andorians have to deal with the Neutral Zone, just as we do. There may not be a lot of difference in the data."
"Actually, the Klingons may be the wild card in this," I said. "From what I've been told, they aren't above sliding into Romulan territory on occasion."
"Baiting the Romulans?" Scott asked.
I just smiled. "Let's just say that they get closer to the sun than we can. If we're lucky, their data might just be the most useful of all."