Tom

ooo

Well, so much for that plan.

I was turned down. My business, my service on Voyager don't give me enough social currency to qualify for a converted building. If Kathryn and I had applied together, that would be a different story, Marie said.

"To be honest, you'd be eligible for more homes. In fact, there a few really nice converted buildings not far from here," she explained. "And you could move in almost immediately; right now, the construction division has a nine-month backlog."

I'm venting about this when I notice that Kathryn's put her coffee mug down and is leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. "Did I miss something?" she asks softly. "I thought the housing agency was considering both our social currency standings."

Kathryn's talking, but I'm hearing B'Elanna's cracks about freeloading. "I just wanted to do this alone," I snap. Kathryn's expression pivots from incredulous to death glare in a nanosecond. "I'm sorry," I say. "You didn't deserve that. You've given me so much … I just wanted to do this for you."

Her mouth drops open for a moment, then she looks at me, clearly puzzled. "Is this some sort of transaction? You think you owe me something?" She's trying to control herself, but she's clearly getting upset. Shit! I'm making things worse.

"In one sense, I owe you a lot," I begin. "But that's not what I meant. I had a marriage in which I was basically called a freeloader. I have been a freeloader in the past … God knows I haven't always been above taking advantage. "I … I just wanted to prove that I've finally become a functional adult. That I can pay my share, or provide. That I'm not taking advantage of you."

I'm not sure I'm making sense, but Kathryn nods as she pulls up a chair. "I believe I've told you that I don't see you as a freeloader," she begins. "And you certainly are more adult now than you were when I asked you to come aboard Voyager." I snort and she gives me a crooked grin. "Look, our goal here is make a home together. As partners. In a relationship. Is it not?" She pauses for my nod. "Since this is our home, as partners we need to contribute equally, or as equally as possible, financially and in other areas. And I admit," she continues with a sheepish smile, "that I've dumped the other areas on you. And it will likely happen again as long as I'm in Starfleet. I seem to attract demanding projects."

Her words hit me in the gut, and it takes a moment before I can answer. "You're right," I finally say. "I was trying to take it all on myself. Guess I forgot about the partnership part." She gets up and wraps her arms around my neck. "If you have your heart set on that building, then we'll do it. But I'd like to look at the other places. Who knows, we may see something even better."

ooo

Early April and Miral is back with us. Today, she's at daycare while Kathryn and I look at possible homes. The first two converted buildings are nice enough, though one is rather small; not sure we can shoehorn a holodeck and an office into the living space. And let's not forget the transporter. Marie raises an eyebrow at that requirement, and Kathryn just shrugs. "A perk of being an admiral; I can be called away at any time," she quips.

Marie smiles when we turn down the second building. "I was saving the best for last," she teases. "Come see this."

I recognize it immediately; it's practically next door to Nar and T'leth's pottery shop. Nice folks; their children are in dayschool with Miral. Kathryn gives it an approving "Hmm …" I admit I like it, too. It resembles my studio building, but it's wider, and three stories high. One problem: It faces away from the channel. "No water view," I remark. "Don't be too sure," Marie says as she opens the front door.

The first floor is open, save for a large metal staircase that divides the area. It's kind of industrial, but nice enough. Kathryn and I inspect the room; Marie adds that they'll update the kitchen and bathrooms. "It's all modular, so it's an easy swap," she adds. The second floor holds three bedrooms and a bathroom. "Miral would have her own room," Kathryn murmurs. I walk into a back bedroom and stop: It has a floor-to-ceiling window with a nice view of the channel. "This is the master," Marie says and nods toward the bathroom that's off to the left. "The room across the hall has the same. It would be a lovely guest room or office." "I don't know, "Kathryn laughs. "I might not get any work done."

We climb to the third floor and stop in amazement. It's one huge room, and the entire back wall is floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a stunning view of the channel. "Oh, my," Kathryn breathes. "The previous tenant had an art studio up here," Marie explains as she looks at her notes. "There's a balcony, too; the door is on the right. Now, we can configure this any way you want, though the windows complicate things." "Can we put a hold on this?" I ask hopefully. "We also need the power conduit schematics," Kathryn adds. "I'd like the engineers to take a look before we decide."

We come to an agreement and head over to the daycare center to get Miral. "So, kiddo," Kathryn says as we walk home, "if you could have your bedroom painted any color, what would you choose?" Miral just shrugs. Kathryn and I look at each other.

"So, what's your favorite color?" Kathryn asks lightly. "Blue," she announces. "Then blue it will be," Kathryn says.

ooo

Kathryn

ooo
Didn't take much to agree on the building, though we had one last hurdle to clear. Since we aren't registered as domestic partners, we needed a legal agreement to spell out rights of survivorship, among other things. The attorney casually mentioned that the agreement was close to that of a domestic partnership, and he could easily fill switch our information to one of those forms.

"We'll take it under advisement," I said coolly, and he shrugged. Given my luck, I'm not ready to make a formal commitment. And should we decide to marry, I'm going to insist on a quick ceremony.

ooo

Late May, and we're having our last staff meeting with Admiral Nechayev before our final report goes out. Not that the project will end: Scans of the Romulan system will continue; and we'll run on reduced staff to update the database with those findings.

"Lux's scans don't show a major spike in particle emissions," Reseil reports. "So, unless the next mission finds something drastic, we'll hold with our timeline for the supernova." "A Vulcan science ship launches next week," I add. Part of the deal I brokered in order to mollify the Vulcan Science Academy brass, who were peeved about not being included from the start. At least I got to visit Tuvok.

Nechayev nods. "I'm told the Inventio, the third Hawking-class ship, will be ready to launch in September." We're quiet for a moment, then she smiles. "Since we're about to become very busy, let me tell you that we're all very pleased with the work your team has done," she says sincerely. "Starfleet continues to draw down personnel from Space Station 4 and other outposts near the Romulan system. I know Daystrom is reducing staff at its outposts, too. We're working on evacuation plans with other Federation worlds and the Klingons. Our thanks don't begin to cover this, but know that your work will save innumerable lives."

ooo

I'm idly flipping through PADDs as Reseil walks up to our table. "Sorry I'm late," she said, "had a complication with another project." She looks at the small stack of PADDs. "Working?" "Looking at kitchens," I say, waving the PADD. "We're getting an upgrade, but I'm the last person to ask about this. I seldom cook, and to be honest, I fight with replicators." The server comes to take our order, then Reseil holds out her hand. "Let me see." She quickly flips through the offerings, then nods and hands back the PADD with her selection. "From what you've told me, I think this should do. Fairly streamlined; should be easy to work in." "That's the decorator's choice," I say. "Works for me, though Tom should take a look at it. He cooks a bit."

"How are you doing on furniture?" she asks. I laugh. "Outside of Miral's room, Tom doesn't care as long as it's not overly traditional or fussy. I grew up in a farmhouse, so I'm used to eclectic. In fact, my mother wants to unload her attic on us. I'm afraid we haven't given our decorator much to work with."

She chuckles. "You're lucky. Jorgan and I argued for days over the dining room set. So, when's move-in day?" I wait for the server to put down our dishes and depart. "Actually, the week I'll be in Paris to deliver the final report. With luck, I'll transport back into a fully-furnished house."