Chapter 1

It seems to be colder than usual in San Franscisco this December.

Kathryn pulls her coat more tightly around herself, adjusting her scarf at the same time. Inclining her head forward against the wind, she stubbornly plows ahead, making her way back to her apartment. Normally, the lights adorning the storefronts twinkle merrily, lifting her mood this time of year, but she simply cannot bring herself to enjoy them now. The music playing on speakers outside stores, the smells from the restaurants, and the atmosphere of busy excitement all just bring back memories from Voyager that are now tinged with sadness and guilt, plaguing her with a bittersweet nostalgia.

She remembers the Christmases, Prixins, and other winter holidays they had during those seven years in the Delta Quadrant. To be sure, they didn't always get to celebrate Christmas on the 25th, but they somehow did manage to find a few days of peace in December each year to throw a party and enjoy one another's company.

They had started doing Secret Santas during their second year. When she thinks of them, she still remembers the childish thrill of having the computer generate someone's name and then keeping it a secret until the day she presented them with their gift. It had also been a wonderful way to get to know her crew as hints were dropped and stories were shared all around the ship for a week.

Her memories of the parties are imprinted as fresh and clear as if they had happened yesterday. She can still hear the music and laughter that filled the mess hall for hours through the rotation of the shifts. She can still smell the wonderful aroma of peppermint hot chocolate wafting from the kitchen. She can still recall Naomi's bright, three-year-old eyes sparkling with excitement as she bounced around the mess hall from table to table, bubbling with joy and talking a mile a minute.

She can still remember the first time she visited Tom's romantic Christmas dance floor program.

Having let herself be blissfully happy at the party for perhaps a little too long, she was feeling daring. Even so, she entered hesitantly, immediately sensing that the ambiance of quiet emotion found in the candlelight setting of the room somewhat contrasted with the residual, light recklessness inside her.

And then she saw him. He held her gaze as he walked up purposefully, perhaps seeing something in her eyes that she didn't want to hide anymore.

"May I have this dance?"

The question was innocent in itself.

She was still afraid that if she let herself dance just this one time, that any control she might have over her feelings in normal life would slip away. Her joy, blinding. Her excitement, distracting. Her fears, controlling. Her hurt, crippling. Her judgement, clouded. Her authority, compromised. She knew a captain could not let herself do this.

And yet, she did. It was their last year in the Delta Quadrant, but of course, they didn't know that. It was a magical evening, and one she would never experience again.

Her steps falter at the sudden, sharp pain that tears mercilessly through her chest. She gasps, only just now aware of the tears blurring her vision. Valiantly, she draws on some inner courage to steady herself and wipe them away. Tremors shake her body from the core outward, but no one walking the streets around her notices. No one ever does, because there was only one person who really saw every little sign and made her feel loved. Now, he is gone, too.

Closing her eyes for a brief moment against the spinning sensation that disorients her, she sees his face flash in her memory. She hears his deep laugh as he teases her about her coffee-drinking habits, watches the light sparkle in his eyes mischievously. She snaps herself back into the real world and forces herself to keep walking. She cannot afford to slip back into these thoughts. They will only destroy her slowly, from the inside out.

Forward, the counselor has said repeatedly. She knows she has to keep moving forward, but a part of her still wants to go back.

She finally reaches the apartment. She climbs the stairs tiredly, tosses her coat haphazardly on the couch, replicates a mug of coffee, and decides to make use of the last rays of afternoon sunlight to complete a few more calculations.

Focused entirely on the PADD in her hands and occupied by the myriad of thoughts in her mind, she doesn't acknowledge when the sun goes down and leaves the room in gradually descending darkness. She doesn't rise from her seat to reheat her coffee as the steady ticking of the antique grandfather clock takes its hands across the twelve from one day into the next. Eventually, the text and simulations on the PADD begin to blur, crossing from reality to dream-world and back. Her eyes drift close against her will, and her mind wanders into another realm.

"Kathryn." A hand on her shoulder, shaking her. "Kathryn, wake up."

A pause, soft footfalls on the carpet. She doesn't want to awaken from this comfortable haven that sleep brings. The sound of footfalls comes back.

Coffee.

The smell finally arouses her, and she lifts her head out of her arms slowly, blinking blearily at his face. Features gradually sharpen. Behind him, the fireplace has just been lit for the day, small flickers of flames just barely finding their way over the log to grow into the beautiful burning blaze they will become. The first tentative rays of sunlight are creeping through the layer of frost on the window, making it sparkle.

"Good morning," he smiles. "Another late night, I see."

She simply straightens against the back of the chair and closes her eyes, running a hand through her silvery hair. "Mhmm," she answers. He gives her the mug, and she takes a sip slowly, relishing the warmth seeping through her, all the way down to stiff bones. She sighs.

Gentle and warm, his arms encircle her. She leans into them. "You don't need to keep doing this, you know," he says.

"Yes, I do," she whispers.

She stirs and looks around the darkened, cold, and empty room. The glowing PADD lies in one of her hands, and the lukewarm mug of coffee sits abandoned further back on the table.

"It's all I have left," she finishes.