Tom and B'Elanna's request to perform their wedding isn't a complete surprise. It's not like their relationship is a secret — like things once were with me and Tom.
But I have to wonder. And yes, I'm biased, though in my defense, I'm not alone: The fights that echo through the decks, the bickering, and now, the gossip that earlier today that B'Elanna was ready to break it off.
So, there's a question to ask, not that I'm the one who should pose it. However, I am conducting the ceremony ...
ooo
He smiles broadly as I enter his quarters, but I know him too well — there's that edge of wariness in his eyes.
"Let's just call this premarital counseling," I say softly. "Are you sure?"
His response is to call for Do Not Disturb mode and activate the sound dampener. As I expected, this won't be a pleasant conversation.
"Kate, you were the one who ended things You said you'd understand if I moved on."
"I know, and I meant it," I reply, though it was one of my most painful decisions.
He studies me for a moment. "This isn't about revenge."
"I know, but thank you for confirming it."
He doesn't know what to make of this — or me. He frowns, opens his mouth, then quickly closes it. I suspect that he can't find the words. I'm not doing so well myself.
"So why are you asking me to call this off?" he finally asks. "Have you changed your mind about us?"
Oh, here we go: This conversation should have been simple; but nothing between us has ever been simple.
But if I'm asking him for honesty, I'd best be ready to return it ...
"I still love you, if that's what you're asking. And that's a hell of a thing to tell you right now. Can I give you what you want? I don't know, but I wouldn't make you wait until I figured it out."
His eyes soften; I keep talking. "But I think, my dear, that you misunderstand me. My feelings don't count. I can't — and won't — ask you to call off your wedding. I'm asking if you're sure about the commitment. You deserve that much, and B'Elanna deserves it even more."
His frown signals that he doesn't understand, which annoys me. "Look, B'Elanna deserves a husband who doesn't see her as a consolation prize. If you can stand in front of me and your friends today and vow that she will always be first in your life, no matter what, then I'll see you two at the ceremony.
"If you honestly can't do that, then I hope you love her enough to call it off, or at least delay it until you're sure."
He doesn't answer. I motion toward the door, and he nods and disengages the lock. I leave, wishing that I had kept my mouth shut.
ooo
Two hours later, the chime rings at the Ready Room door. It's B'Elanna, still in duty uniform.
This is awkward, but I try to remain casual. "Don't you have a wedding to prepare for?"
"There's not going to be a wedding."
Oh, boy … "Is there something I can do?" As if I haven't done enough as it is.
"Tom asked to postpone the wedding. Said he proposed because I was going to break up with him, and he thought I deserved a better reason. And he's right, I do.
"I'm not sure why I accepted: maybe it was because I do care for him; maybe it was because he actually liked me, Klingon genes and all.
"But," she continued as she wrapped her arms around her midsection, "I realized that all the problems were still there. We weren't going to change each other. I was afraid we'd end up like my parents — very different people who hated each other in the end."
"I'm so sorry." Which is the truth. "Are you all right?'
She nods. "I will be. And I promise it won't interfere with our jobs." She suddenly chuckled. "At least I won't have to eat that abomination of a wedding cake that Neelix made. I really appreciate the thought, but neon purple? No."
"You mean this?" I say, pointing to a dish of frighteningly purple cake slices, and she makes a face. "Good luck with that," she says as she heads for the door. But she turns at the last minute.
"You know, it occurs to me that you might be the better match for Tom."
It's a good thing I wasn't holding anything — I would have dropped it for sure. And my command mask has fled: no refuge there. "I beg your pardon?" is all I can manage.
She gives me what could be an I know something you don't look and shrugs. "You both grew up in Starfleet families, you probably understand him better than I do. You certainly can make each other laugh … I have to admit to being a bit jealous about that." She shrugs again. "Just a thought."
"I'll, ah … take that under advisement, thank you."
ooo
Mid-evening and I ask the computer for Tom's whereabouts. He's in the holodeck, and I figure he's taken refuge in Sandrine's. But no, he's in my Lake George program.
He's at the cabin, sitting on the porch swing, drink in hand. I'm greeted with a grin as I walk up the stairs. "Remembered the code, did you?" I ask casually as I lean on the porch post.
"I have some very nice memories of this place," he says as he pats the empty spot on the swing. "I was hoping you'd show up. I assume you talked to B'Elanna?"
"I did," I reply as I take my seat and he hands me a glass of what looks like Antarian cider. "It sounds like you two parted amicably."
"I think so. I care about her, but she was right about us."
"By chance, you didn't let it slip that we were once involved, or that we talked today?"
He looks horrified. "Of course not. Why?"
I recount the last portion of my conversation with B'Elanna; he just shakes his head. "I never told her, or anyone. But you know, she can be damn perceptive. I always thought it was a survival mechanism of sorts."
He looks up at the holographic stars for a moment. "Maybe she realized that I didn't tell her the whole truth: That I thought I had moved on, but I hadn't, especially after what you told me today."
I'm not answering, which makes him frown. "Look, I didn't dream this. You did tell me that you didn't know if you could give me what I wanted, which is a committed relationship, by the way. But you wouldn't make me wait until you figured it out."
"I did," I confirm.
"And that's a hell of a lot different than what you told me the last time."
I take a breath. "Yes, it is."
He nods. "And I'm pretty sure I heard you say that you still loved me."
"You did, and I mean it. But I also didn't plan to torpedo your wedding so I could take B'Elanna's place. I just saw things that worried me, and I wanted to be sure you were all right."
He's thoughtful for a moment. "Well, I'm glad you spoke up. You saved all three of us. As for taking B'Elanna's place …" he starts to chuckle. "I thought she might take your place, but I was just lying to myself about that. You were right: She doesn't deserve to be second-best."
He shakes his head in frustration, and I begin to worry. "Look," he finally says, "do you think we can try to figure us out? Together?"
And to my surprise — or maybe not — the answer comes easily.
"I think we can do that."
He raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
"Brat!" I mock-scold him. "But I deserve it. And yes, I'm very sure. "
His answer is to lean in and kiss me softly, continuing past my lips, onto my jawline, then a gentle kiss against my nose, which makes me chuckle. I wind my arms around his neck and climb into his lap to hold him … no, burrow into him, which makes him laugh and pull me tightly against his chest.
I feel that laugh rather than hear it, and I realize how much I've missed holding him and how damn good it feels to be held. My body's reminding me that this would be even nicer if we took this inside. But not tonight ...
"You know," I whisper, "I don't have a plan for figuring us out."
"Neither do I," he whispers back. "But I think we've made a good start."