Kathryn

ooo

"Refreshments?" I ask as Reseil walks into my office carrying a carafe.

"I just got a shipment of my favorite tea," she says. "Thought I'd make a pot to share during the meeting."

Scott, who's already here for the weekly update meeting, just chuckles. "Sure, I'll try some, but I'll have to replicate a mug." She looks over at me.

"Tea? Seriously?" I tease. "My taste buds are permanently saturated with coffee." I look over at Scott. "And when did you start drinking tea?"

He bursts out laughing. "You owe me lunch, Reseil," he finally says.

"Oh, I get it. This is a setup," I mock grump.

"All right, Scott. You get your lunch," Reseil says as she replicates three mugs. "But Kathryn, this is very good; give it a try."

I decide to be nice and take a sip. "Well, you're right. It is good. Certainly better than some things I've had that were advertised as tea." I raise an eyebrow. "Now, can we get started?"

Inventio still has nothing unusual to report on the Romulan situation, and there's nothing new from our other sources. We're about to wrap up when my office manager comms.

"Admiral, Mr. Paris is on the vid. He says it's an emergency."

Scott and Reseil quietly slip out as Tom appears on the screen. Oh, god … he's been crying. My mind starts racing through the possible reasons why ...

"It's Miral," he says hoarsely. "The virus hit her again."

ooo

After Tom signs off, I make a call, then tell my office manager to alert the transporter room as I walk out the door — where I nearly run into Scott and Reseil, who are hovering outside. They walk me to the lift as I give them a quick update.

"What can we do for you?" Scott asks.

"Right now, just hold down the fort. Tom's transporting here so we can talk with the doctors."

ooo

Tom doesn't look any better in person. "I called Lewis, he knows we're coming by," I tell him. He looks confused for a moment: the Doctor's name choice has never stuck with him. "And Owen pulled some strings." I continue. "The Verity is on its way to meet Intrepid."

"How long before they get her here?"

"About 18 hours," I say, which doesn't make either of us feel any better.

ooo

"The good news is that the scans from Dr. Harker show that the damage isn't as extensive as last time," Dr. Hibs says. "But we'll have to see what develops in the next few hours."

"The bad news," the Doctor chimes in, "is that the antivirals haven't been as effective. We're trying a combination that Dr. Harker suggested. In the meantime, they're keeping Miral as comfortable as possible."

"Has she been ill? Anything unusual going on?" Dr. Hibs asks.

"Her mother hasn't said anything about her being sick," Tom begins. "There's been some stress; problems at school. But I'm told that things were being resolved, and she seems a lot happier when I talk to her."

Both doctors nod. "Verity and Intrepid won't meet for a few hours yet. But we're receiving updates, so I suggest that you go home to eat and sleep," Lewis says as he aims a raised eyebrow my way. "Miral is in good hands. I'll call when she's transferred to Verity."

ooo

Being home is draining. There are calls to make: Updating parents, asking Nico to dog sit, and Nar and T'leth to feed Tiger. Somewhere in all this, B'Elanna calls, and I go upstairs to give them some privacy. Some decisions aren't mine to make, even though they tend to affect me.

He's sitting in the family room when I leave my office, staring out the windows with a glass in hand. Can't say I blame him: I could use a drink myself.

"She's about the same," he volunteers. "They have her in a back frame; she's sedated to keep her from moving around too much."

"What happened?"

He shrugs. "B'Elanna says she was fine this morning, nothing unusual in school. But at daycare, she complained that her legs hurt. The staff called for medics; they were taking her to Sick Bay by the time B'Elanna got the call."

"Sounds like they caught it early," I allow, and he just nods.

We're both quiet at dinner. Afterward, he volunteers to take Molly out. I'm trying to concentrate on work when my vid pings. It's Lewis, informing me that Miral's been transferred to Verity and is on her way home.

Tom's relieved when I tell him the news, though he swallows hard when I remind him that Verity is roughly 12 hours out.

By now, it's mid-evening, and we're both at loose ends — too distracted to concentrate on anything substantial, but it's too early to go to bed. We finally settle for something mindless on the vid, and make ourselves comfortable on the couch, to Molly and Tiger's brief annoyance.

Finally, time for bed, not that either of us really expected to sleep. When he leans over to kiss me goodnight, I wrap an arm around his back to pull him on top of me. "We're going to get through this," I tell him. "And I do mean 'we.'"

I wonder for a moment if that was the right thing to say; it might be an echo of something he'd told B'Elanna. But he just smiles and kisses my mouth. It's slow and sweet … and before I know it, he's kissing my neck and that sensitive spot behind my ear …

This is more about comfort than passion, but it feels damn good … and we're the only two people in the world, losing ourselves, our grief and our worry in each other …

Afterward, he lies across me, spent. "I love you," he manages to whisper. "I love you, too," I whisper back.

ooo

I awaken and look at the chronometer; still a couple of hours before the alarm goes off. Tom's sleeping on his stomach, an arm and half a leg draped over me. The hall night light casts a warm glow into our room, slightly illuminating Tom's face, and I gently push the hair off his forehead and study him.

He's not the lanky young man I saw in New Zealand. I see bits of maturity now: a fuller face, the start of crinkly lines around his eyes, a bit of white sprinkled into his new beard. His hair … turns out it's somewhat curly, and freed from the Starfleet cut, has sprung back to its natural state. Oddly, it's a bit darker these days.

On Voyager, I made my peace with the idea that I'd grow old alone, cut off from the intimacy that comes with a relationship. I didn't see that changing once I got home, either. But life … or fate … has shown me otherwise.

I snuggle closer and close my eyes … and right before sleep takes me, a thought presents itself ...

It's good to be home.

And yes, it is ...