Home, Part II
By Ralkana

Disclaimer – I don’t own them; Paramount does. If I owned them, I’m pretty sure they’d have been much, much happier.

Comments and feedback to Ralkana47@yahoo.com would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!

Back to Part I.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

About seven hours later, we sat around the table again, along with Phoebe, David, and their eleven-month-old twins. I simply watched my family, content; my daughters were deep in discussion, and so were David and Chakotay. Chakotay had been delighted to find out that David was an archaeologist, and David was regaling him with stories from his digs. The men comfortably held the twins, and it was an adorable sight. My grandchildren had been captivated by Chakotay—Edward kept trying to steal his tattoo—and I was unsurprised to find out that he was wonderful with them.

To my greater surprise, Kathryn had been delighted with them as well, but I guess her interaction with the children on Voyager—including her goddaughter Miral Kathryn—had somewhat changed her views on kids. Her niece and nephew had spent the entire afternoon and evening, up until dinner, in the laps of their aunt and uncle. The day had been a long one for the children—especially with the morning in Florida—and they were growing fussy now.

David stood up, bouncing Edward in an attempt to calm him. "I think I’ll take them up and put them to bed."

Phoebe looked up. "I think we’re going to have to take them home tonight, David."

He frowned. "Why?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "And just where do you plan to put them, honey?"

His tone was mildly frustrated. "Where else? In the crib in Ka—" He stopped, reddening, and stammered, "Oh, God, Kath, I’m so sorry. It’s habit…"

I put him out of his misery. "It’s okay, David. I had Chakotay move the crib into my room earlier. You can put them in there; they’ll stay with Grandma tonight. You two can sleep in Phoebe’s old room. I would prefer to keep us all together, at least for one night… indulge an old woman."

David laughed, "Of course we’ll stay. And you’re not old, Gretchen, not by a long shot." He brought Edward over to kiss me good night and then whisked him up the stairs.

Phoebe stood and took Rebecca from Chakotay, gently bouncing the baby as she fussed at the loss of contact with her new friend. "Come on, sweetie. Bedtime. You’ll see Uncle Chak tomorrow."

Kathryn raised her eyebrow. "Uncle Chak?"

The uncle in question smiled wistfully. "‘Uncle Chak’ is fine. Good night, Princess," he added, waving to her and laughing delightedly when she waved back.

An odd expression flickered on his face, and he also stood. "I’ll be right back; I need to get something from upstairs."

Kathryn looked at him, puzzled, but he merely smiled at her. When he turned to head up the stairs, he winked at me. As Phoebe leaned down for me to kiss her daughter, I murmured, "Stay upstairs for a while."

She looked confused, so I shot a look at Kathryn, who was staring after Chakotay with a bemused smile on her face. Bringing my hand up to Phoebe’s face, I turned my wedding ring on my finger. Comprehension dawned on her face, and she laughed and nodded. The noise drew Kathryn’s attention back to us, and I quickly kissed Rebecca and sent her off to bed.

Kathryn watched as Phoebe climbed the stairs, cooing to Rebecca. She had a strange look on her face, one I couldn’t identify. Chakotay had mentioned wanting a family, but I wondered if they’d talked about it.

"The twins seem quite taken with Chakotay; I guess he’s got their seal of approval."

She glanced back at me with a slightly guilty look, and I knew I had correctly guessed the topic of her daydream.

"He’s amazing with children; he’d be a fantastic father, and I know he wants a family. All the kids on Voyager adore him." She laughed, remembering something. "In fact, Naomi Wildman has quite a crush on him!"

"What about you?"

She grinned. "I have quite a crush on him, too."

I laughed but quickly grew serious. "You know what I mean, Katie. Do you want a family? You used to tell me that you never wanted children, that they were too much trouble."

She sighed. "Yes, I do. It surprised me too, when I realized it. It’s strange. I never felt that children were such a big deal, even knowing how badly Mark wanted kids. But with Chakotay… it’s different—he sees family as the most important facet of life, I guess because he’s lost his. He wants someone to pass his knowledge and culture to, and I find I want it too. I… can see myself with his son, or his daughter, something I’ve never been able to see before…

"But I don’t know, Mom. It would never have been possible on Voyager, for too many reasons. Now that we’re here? I just don’t know; things are so uncertain right now. Maybe someday… but then, we’re not exactly young anymore…"

She stopped as his footsteps sounded on the stairs. I saw him fiddle with something and then slip it in his pocket. I shooed them into the living room, telling them to get comfortable while I made coffee and tea.

I heard her cry of surprise a few minutes later, and I smiled to myself, imagining the tableau. But then, her voice continued, growing increasingly agitated. Oh, Katie, what are you doing? I couldn’t decipher any of her words, and I couldn’t hear his voice, but the pauses in her speech told me that he was responding to her. Finally, I heard his voice, sharp and quick, just before the front door slammed, hard.

I ran into the living room just as Phoebe came running down the front stairs. Kathryn was on her knees in front of the couch, staring at the door, and tears were flowing silently down her face. Chakotay was nowhere to be seen.

"Katie? What happened?"

I pulled her up to sit with me on the couch, and her sister sat on her other side. When she spoke, her voice sounded bewildered, almost dazed. She was still crying.

"He asked me to marry him. And I said no…"

Then, she seemed to come back to herself and—as she had earlier that day—she swiped at her tears and began to straighten her posture. Frustrated, I grabbed her shoulders and shook her—not too gently, either.

"Dammit, Kathryn, don’t do that!"

"Do what?!"

"Stop becoming the captain, or the admiral, or whatever the hell rank you hold now! This is Kathryn’s life, not Starfleet’s!"

She looked shocked, and the tears began to fall again. I was a bit shocked myself; I never cursed at my children, and I hated that I’d done so now. But at least she stopped her transformation and slumped back onto the cushions.

"Now," I continued, much more softly. "Tell me what happened."

"I did. He proposed, and I said no."

Phoebe chimed in, surreptitiously wiping her own eyes. "You said a lot more than no. I heard you upstairs, but I couldn’t hear what you were saying."

Kathryn sighed, and the sigh became a sob. After a second—during which I could see her struggle for self-control—she spoke. "He asked me to marry him. Unsurprisingly, it was the most beautiful proposal I’ve ever heard—to me or anyone else." She laughed shakily, but her face crumpled.

"I said no, that we couldn’t." She closed her eyes, but I knew that it wouldn’t let her hide from the images playing again in her mind. "God, he looked so hurt. He couldn’t even ask why not, but I could see the question in those eyes… I can see everything in those eyes. I told him that it wouldn’t work because we’re both still in Starfleet. So he said he would resign, and I told him that even if he did, I still wouldn’t marry him. When he finally asked why, I told him that it didn’t matter why; I wouldn’t marry him, whether or not he resigned. And he told me that he hoped Starfleet would keep me warm, and he left." She looked at me, and I could see that his departure hurt more than his words. "He left."

She pulled away from me, springing to her feet and starting to pace. "God! There are so many reasons that it wouldn’t work! Why can’t he see that?!"

Phoebe gently asked, "Did you give him any of those reasons?"

"No! I couldn’t…"

She persisted. "Can you tell us?"

Kathryn looked scared, and vulnerable—a look I’d seldom seen on her before. "I don’t think so…"

"Try. We’ll help you."

The vulnerability disappeared suddenly, replaced by anger. "I meant what I said about Starfleet, but not because of my career, not for the reason he thinks. We’ve already angered a lot of Command by being involved with each other. Owen told me that if we take it any further—make it binding—Nechayev and her friends will do whatever they can to make sure that our orders don’t coincide, and even that we’re as far away from each other as we can be. I’d much rather be at his side and unmarried than light years away from him and married!"

There was venom in her voice, and I was stunned at her revelation. What had these two people done that had so angered those above them? They’d fallen in love, and it was being treated like a crime. They resisted that love for years, for as long as they could, abiding by ‘fleet rules, but even that wasn’t enough. Sure, their relationship was a breach of protocol, but given their circumstances, it was understandable, and it had been accepted and embraced by their entire crew! All of a sudden, I was furious at Starfleet, and I wanted to find Alynna Nechayev and do unpleasant things to her.

Phoebe was just as surprised as I was, but she recovered quicker. "Katie, why didn’t you tell Chakotay that? He would have understood…"

"No he wouldn’t have! He would have just been more determined to resign, and I won’t let him do that. That’s why I told him I wouldn’t marry him if he did!"

I spoke now, and my voice was full of the authority of parenthood. "Katie, if he wants to leave Starfleet, that’s his decision to make, not yours. If he’s involved with you, then yes, it concerns you too, but ultimately, it’s his choice."

She turned on me, and her voice was desperate. "I can’t let him do that! Mom, he’s lost everything. Repeatedly. He’s had to start over. Repeatedly. I can’t ask him to do that again. We fought so hard to let him keep his commission—they made him a captain! He’s a ‘fleet captain! I can’t ask him to give it all up, for me!"

"That’s where you’re wrong."

We all jumped at David’s voice. He was leaning against the wall by the stairs, watching us. Kathryn turned her glare on him.

"What do you mean?"

"You’re confusing him with you. You’re dedicated to Starfleet; he isn’t. To him, it’s just a job. There are other things he’d like to do. The only reason he’s still ‘fleet is because you’re there. The best part of his job is being with you; that’s all that matters to him."

Kathryn’s eyes narrowed. "How the hell do you think you know all this?! You only met us both today!"

He shrugged. "We talked. He manages to say a lot with very few words… you should know that."

She was silent for a moment, but then her expression hardened. "I. Can’t. Marry. Him. That’s it!"

"Why. Not?" Phoebe was just as adamant as her sister.

Kathryn’s angry posture sagged and she broke down again. "I just can’t! Why can’t he just be happy with us the way we are?" she wailed.

I stood and took her trembling form in my arms. "Katie, this isn’t about Starfleet, or his career. What is going on?"

She spoke into my shoulder, and her words were muffled.

"What, honey?"

She pulled back, and there was an expression of naked fear in her eyes.

"I can’t marry him. I can’t even agree to marry him. I won’t lose him!"

And suddenly, it was all clear. Justin. And Mark. My daughter had been serious when she’d talked of judging Chakotay’s proposal. After all, she’d had three now…

"Oh, Katie…"

She turned away from me to stare into the empty fireplace. Her words were soft but forceful. "I know it’s stupid, and irrational, and superstitious, but I can’t do it. I feel like I’d be cursing him—us—if I put that ring on my finger. I’m a scientist, and a Starfleet admiral, for God’s sake, but I can’t do it."

"Honey, you have to tell him why! You have to talk to him!"

"I can’t! I don’t want him to see how stupid I’m being. But I can’t marry him… if I lost him, no impromptu shower by a meddling sister would bring me out of it this time—nothing would."

Phoebe grinned ruefully at Kathryn’s comment, but I kept my face neutral. I wanted her to take seriously what I was going to say.

"Kathryn, you need to talk to him. You’re pushing him away again, without giving him a reason! If you don’t talk to him, you’re going to lose him anyway. He had to question your love for years; don’t make him do it again. I only met him today, but I know—without a doubt—that Chakotay is not the kind of man to laugh at your fears, no matter how irrational you think you’re being. I know that if you explain to him why you’re scared, he’ll understand. He won’t pressure you; you don’t have to marry him, but you need to tell him why you won’t. Explain it to him. Please. Because, Katie, you’re losing him, and it will hurt much, much more if you lose him this way."

She stared at me, absorbing my words. She turned away again, and for a second, I thought all my pleading had been in vain. Then, she drew herself up, but the Starfleet mask didn’t fall over her features. She was gathering her strength, but for Kathryn.

"I have to find him," she said, and the resolve in her voice reassured me. She strode purposefully toward the front door, only to be caught and held by David.

"Oh no you don’t!"

"What?! Why?!"

He nodded toward the window. "It’s snowing. Hard."

Phoebe followed his nod and exploded. "God! You two are such a perfect pair! What is it with the people in this family wandering out mindlessly into blizzards!?"

Kathryn glanced wildly at all of us. "Come on! We have to look for him!"

I grabbed her arm. "Kathryn, you said yourself that he’s a tracker. He’ll be fine; I’m sure he’ll be back soon."

She pulled her arm away from me. "He’s from a desert planet! I don’t think he knows how to navigate in the snow! That’s a damn blizzard out there! And he’s not dressed warmly! And he’s upset! Who knows where he’ll go?! He doesn’t even have his combadge! Oh God!" Her voice broke.

"Kathryn! Look at me. He’s not stupid. I’m sure he hasn’t gone far. And wherever he’s gone, whether it’s near or far, we’d never find him if he doesn’t want to be found. If he’s a tracker he knows about hiding his own tracks in any weather—and whatever traces he might have left have been obliterated by the snow. If we go out to look for him, all we will succeed in doing is endangering ourselves. I know it’s hard, and it’s not what you want to do, but all we can do is wait here, until the storm dies down or he returns. Go upstairs, and find him some warm clothes to put on when he gets back. Go on!"

Phoebe firmly led her still-protesting sister up the stairs, and I turned to David. "Thank you, David, for everything. Go check on the twins, please."

He eyed me for a second longer, and then nodded and followed my daughters up. Once they were all safely out of sight, I decided to follow a hunch. I knew that I was disregarding my own sound advice, and that my daughters would kill me if they found out. Wrapping a blanket around myself, I slipped quietly out the front door, taking care to make sure it remained unlocked. Peering out into the swirling snow, I tried to discern his figure, but I could see nothing. Remaining on the veranda, I walked to the side of the house, craning my head around the wall, leaning out over the railing.

He was there, on his knees in the snow, forehead pressed to the bark of Kathryn’s favorite tree, the one she’d laughingly shown him earlier. He was chanting, or screaming, or whispering something—in the noise of the storm, I couldn’t hear anything at all, and I could barely see the movement of his lips. Tears were streaming down his cheeks from under his closed eyes, freezing there, but he paid them no heed. He was growing indistinguishable from the background as the snow blanketed his form.

I called his name, but the sound was torn away by the wind. Dropping the blanket and sighing in annoyance, I made my way slowly down the front porch stairs. Gingerly picking my way around the house, I held on to the porch railing as long as I could. I inched toward him, calling his name, but he was oblivious.

When I touched his shoulder, he jumped violently, abrading his brow on the rough tree bark. Bloodied, he turned to me, the alarm in his eyes giving way to anger as he took in his surroundings. Without a word, he stood, lifted me into his arms, and walked steadily to the porch. Only after he’d gently set me down did he let his anger flare.

"What is it with you Janeway women and your damn penchant for recklessness?! You could have been killed! You might have fallen, and I would have never known! Kathryn would have killed me!"

I drew myself up to my—admittedly not very impressive—full height, answering his ire with my own.

"And walking out into a blizzard—improperly dressed—in an unfamiliar area is the epitome of intelligence? Not to mention staying still and kneeling in the snow! Were you planning on ever coming back in, or were you just going to sit there until you turned into a damned ice sculpture?!"

"It wasn’t snowing when I left! To be honest, I didn’t even realize it had started!"

"Chakotay, this is a damn blizzard! How the hell could you not notice!?"

He looked at my posture—hands on hips, head thrown back—and chuckled softly. "I should have known better than to argue with a Janeway," he said wearily. "I never win those arguments… I don’t even stand a chance." He swiped at the blood oozing down his forehead and winced.

"Oh, Chakotay… come inside so I can take care of that. Then you can go talk to Kathryn."

"No. I can’t go in yet. I can’t talk to her. I thought I could handle it if she didn’t want marriage, but she won’t even tell me why! Is Starfleet really so precious to her? I thought I knew her, but I don’t understand this!"

"Fine. Don’t go in. We’ll talk out here." And I shivered elaborately, making sure he’d see it. He sighed.

"No, let’s go in before you freeze. But, to the kitchen, please. I can’t see her yet."

I shut the door quietly behind us. He looked at it and grinned ruefully, shaking his head, but he said nothing, following me silently into the kitchen. When I shut the kitchen door, he looked at it too, still grinning—or maybe grimacing.

"What’s so funny?" I asked, peering at the mess on his forehead.

"Do you know how good it felt to slam that door? I longed for a door to slam on Voyager. It’s quite difficult to make a dramatic exit when the doors slide quietly shut behind you."

"Did you have need of many dramatic exits?"

He hung his head, but I tilted it back up to dab at it with a wet towel, trying not to smile as he valiantly attempted to suppress the flinch that resulted.

"Not lately. Gods, what is going on? I asked her to be my wife, and she turned into Captain Janeway, scourge of the Delta Quadrant! She hasn’t done that in so long in regards to our relationship! Why? Is she ashamed of me? We can only take it this far and no farther?" His dark eyes beseeched me, and my resolve not to tell him anything crumbled. He had been rejected by my daughter so often, and I had a feeling that if he didn’t understand her motives, he wouldn’t be able to steel himself to face her again.

"She’s not ashamed of you. Please believe me. Chakotay… it’s probably not my place to talk about this, but if I don’t, then you two won’t talk. Has she talked of her past?"

He looked wary. "Some… why?"

"You know that she was engaged when Voyager was pulled into the Delta Quadrant?"

"Yes, we’ve discussed Mark. What does he have to do with anything?!"

"Don’t get angry. Hear me out. Has she ever mentioned… anyone else? Anyone before Mark? Someone serious?"

His brow wrinkled as he thought for a moment. "Justin…" he breathed, his eyes widening.

"Chakotay, my daughter has been engaged twice, but she’s never been married; she’s never had the opportunity. She’s scared right now. It’s not exactly the most rational way for her to feel, and she realizes that. She’s scared, and she’s ashamed of her fear."

He murmured her name, and the pain in his eyes was heartwrenching.

"She couldn’t tell you; she was afraid of your reaction. So, she did as she’s always done and hid behind Starfleet. She’s terrified of losing you. I wouldn’t have told you, but you both are so damned stubborn, and you’re so much in love that it’s easy for you to hurt each other. Go talk to her, and don’t let her push you away! Trust me, it’s not your love that she’s rejecting."

He stared at me, his eyes still pleading silently for my help. "What can I say? How do I convince her that I’m not going anywhere, that nothing dreadful will happen if she accepts my proposal?"

"Just stay with her. The best way to show her that you’re not going anywhere is not to go anywhere. Show her that you understand her fear and won’t belittle it."

"I would never belittle anyone’s fears, especially Kathryn’s. If anyone understands the grief and fear of losing loved ones, I do. We’ve shared our fears before… why couldn’t she tell me about this? Does she really think I wouldn’t understand?"

"I don’t think it’s that she feels you wouldn’t understand… from what you’ve both told me, you have shared your fears. Fear of the Borg, and other hostile aliens. Fear for your crew, the ship. Fear that you wouldn’t get home. Tangible things, fears easily understood. She’s a scientist, Chakotay. This fear doesn’t have any basis in science or fact—it’s just a terrifying gut reaction. It was probably damn near impossible for her to admit it to herself, and she only told her sister and me because we wouldn’t let her not tell us." He nodded, seeing the truth in my words. I took a deep breath. "Are you willing to accept that she might never get over this fear? That she might never be able to marry you? I know that you told me marriage is important to you… how important is it?"

He was silent for several minutes, obviously thinking deeply, staring at his hands clasped before him. He raised his head, looking intently into my eyes, and I thought of how many times he’d done that today. His honesty and sincerity—to himself and others—were refreshing in a universe full of people like Admiral Nechayev.

"I won’t say that it’s unimportant to me. After longing for her love as long as I did, the ability to show to the universe that she’s mine and I’m hers, by the power of a binding authority—it’s a powerful idea. I don’t need it, but I want it. Kathryn is paramount, though. Her love is my life; with it, I can withstand anything—without it, nothing. If marriage is something she doesn’t want, then it’s something I can live without, as long as she’s beside me."

He turned suddenly, looking toward the kitchen stairs, and I saw my daughter standing there, watching us. She hadn’t made a sound, but he had known she was there. He crossed the kitchen to stand before her, and they were eye to eye because she was still several risers up. Neither said a word for several moments, but I could tell something was passing between them. Then, she turned from him and started up the stairs, and my heart leapt into my throat. I almost snapped at her to get down here and talk to him, but then I saw the hand she had extended behind her. He grabbed it, kissed it, and followed her up the stairs, and they were silent all the way, until I heard her bedroom door close behind them.

I remained downstairs for a while longer, thinking about everything I’d heard and seen and felt that day. When I finally did go upstairs, I heard low and steady voices through Kathryn’s door. I sent a quick prayer to whatever deities were listening that my daughter and this worthy man would find all the happiness they deserved.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Accustomed to having the house to myself, especially in the early morning, I was surprised to hear voices in the kitchen as I headed down the stairs.

"Good morning," I yawned. "You’re up early."

Kathryn turned at the sound of my voice. "Eight and a half years of early shifts, double shifts, and every other combination of shifts will do that to you," she said with a smile, saluting me with her coffee mug.

Her turn had placed her slightly in front and to the right of Chakotay, and as they were both in uniform, I recognized the image as the first one that I’d seen broadcast upon Voyager’s return. It was their command stance from the bridge.

"So this is what all those aliens in the delta quadrant saw staring at them from their viewscreens. I almost feel sorry for them; it’s quite an intimidating sight."

She looked puzzled and then laughed as she noticed how they were standing. "Almost. New uniforms, though. I hate these. I hated the other ones too, but I hate these more. At least I was used to the other ones." She tugged at the collar, and Chakotay laughed at the grumbling tone in her voice.

"Yes, but they make you look brave and authoritative," I teased. "And the captain looks quite dashing in his. I always was a sucker for a man in uniform," I added, noting with a smile his flush at my compliment. "I think that’s why I fell for your father," I whispered to Kathryn, and she rolled her eyes at me before smiling.

She turned to appraise Chakotay openly, ignoring the fact that he was doing the same to her. "Mmm, you’re right. It is quite a pleasant view," she purred, and my heart lifted at her lighthearted mood. Apparently they’d worked things out.

"Yes, well get your fill, Admiral ma’am," he replied in a low, deep voice, wrapping his arms around her. "Because this is the last time I’m putting the damn thing on."

Though his tone was light, I could hear steel in his voice, and I looked at him, surprised. He noticed my scrutiny, and squeezing Kathryn as he spoke, he said, "I’m resigning from Starfleet today. Again. Bet not many people get to say that."

I glanced at Kathryn, expecting to see her upset or dismayed at his statement, but she looked as determined as he did. I let out a deep breath in relief. "Oh?" I said neutrally, wanting to know if he’d say more.

"Yes. I had serious doubts about staying with ‘fleet in the first place upon our return, but I did so to be near Kathryn. However, I cannot be a part of an organization that—on top of everything else—would keep me from her just to satisfy the personal grudges of a couple of stuffy admirals." He noticed her glaring at him. "Present company excluded, of course, love," he said sweetly.

She growled at him, looked into her mug, set it down, grabbed his, and finished his coffee in one quick movement.

"Hey!"

"Sorry… love," she replied in a tone just as sweet as his. She grimaced. "Too much sugar, and would you like some coffee with your cream? God, Chakotay…"

"Well, if you don’t like my coffee, you shouldn’t steal it," he replied in a long suffering tone, and I knew this was an argument they’d had many, many times before.

Laughing at them, I grabbed both their mugs and refilled them, getting one for myself. It was really good to see them this way… but I wanted to know what else they’d resolved in their nocturnal conversation. I plunked their mugs down at two places on the table and sat myself down at a third. Following my lead, they sat as well.

"What about you, Kathryn?" I said bluntly. "Have you decided what you’re going to do?"

She sighed. "I’m going to go to Admiral Paris and ask for a long leave of absence during which I’m going to get some counseling. Although I know my best two counselors are sitting right here at this table," she added, grasping my hand and Chakotay’s. He kissed her hand and I simply smiled at her.

"What kind of counseling are you going to get?" I asked, curious.

"Non-‘fleet counseling. Those damn reacclimatization counselors can go to hell; there’s no way I’m separating from Chakotay for any length of time, and I’m going to demand that my crew be allowed to see each other as well. We’re going to need each other for awhile; we’re all we have."

"What if they don’t listen to your demand?"

"Then they’ll have to deal with the resignation of one very notable admiral as well as the excellent captain here," she said firmly, and I could hear the threads of command running through her voice. "And believe me, once I resign, most of Voyager’s crew will as well… I don’t think Starfleet wants to deal with that right now."

Chakotay was looking at her with undisguised pride and joy and love in his eyes. It was good to see. "What about you, Chakotay? What are you planning to do after your fateful meeting with the admiralty?"

He sat up even straighter and the pride in his eyes grew. "I’m going to build us a house."

"Build? Not buy?"

"Nope, build." He laughed, "It’s my own form of therapy… something I’ve been longing to do for a long time."

"Where is this house going to be?"

He looked at Kathryn, who shrugged. He echoed the shrug and added, "We haven’t decided yet. But with our combined back pay, we should be able to buy a nice plot of land somewhere, and I’ll build us a home."

"With a garden," Kathryn added quietly.

He glanced at her. "With a garden."

"Near a river."

He peered more closely. "Near a river." He laughed. "I suppose you want a boat, too."

She nodded happily. "No monkeys, though."

Chakotay looked like he was about to cry. I was mystified. He said, very quietly, "No monkeys," and kissed her on the forehead, lingering there gently. After a moment he said in a shaky voice, "And no combadges with interfering Vulcans on the other end!"

She smiled. "I can’t promise that, but I’ll try." She turned to me. "So, as you can see, Mom, we have a lot to do today. Resign, storm the admiralty and demand the rights of the crew, find a piece of land, buy it, and start building on it. I hope you don’t mind if we cut this visit short. But I promise you, we’ll be back. Soon. Probably this weekend, if you’ll have us."

"You go do what you have to do, Katie. Come back to me, though, and of course I’ll have you. You both are welcome to stay here for as long as you’d like, whenever you’d like. This is your home. Both of you," I added, and they nodded. "I mean it… I expect to see you both back here. Soon. Don’t make me come to San Francisco and find you, young lady," I added, and she smiled.

She looked at him, and he looked back at her, and once again I was struck by their ability to communicate so well without any words. "We’ll be back. For dinner. Tonight. So tell Phoebe not to pout, and give those twins a kiss for me."

I nodded, and we all stood. I felt tears prick my eyes, and she embraced me. "Don’t worry, Mom. I am coming back this time. I swear. I won’t let anything keep me away."

I kissed her and hugged Chakotay, and he shouldered their bag as they unconsciously stepped closer together, into the stance I’d seen earlier, their Starfleet stance. She smacked her combadge. "Janeway to Starfleet Headquarters."

"Headquarters here."

"Two to beam back."

They disappeared with a shimmer and a buzz, leaving me alone in an empty kitchen.

My daughter was gone. Again. I waited for the tears, but they didn’t come. She was home, and happy, and that was more than I could have asked for. I started upstairs to wake the rest of my family, completely content for the first time in almost a decade. As I knocked on Phoebe’s door, I marveled at what a difference one day could really make.