Janeway slipped out of her shoes and propped her stocking feet up on the coffee table, sipping her coffee with quiet pleasure. A small fire crackled merrily in the hearth as outside the walls of Phoebe's house, a summer storm raged, the rain beating against the windows as lightning flickered and thunder boomed periodically. From the kitchen, she could hear Seven cleaning up after their lunch. Curled up in various parts of the living room, Phoebe's two Irish Setters, Maggie and Rufus, slumbered peacefully, oblivious to the tempestuous weather outside.

It was the sort of domestic bliss that made the captain wonder if perhaps space was really where she wanted to spend her life. Of course, she knew her wanderlust was far too strong to be pacified for long by these rare, perfect moments on Earth, but perhaps Janeway cherished them all the more because of it.

Seven walked into the living room, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, her hair loose and falling about her shoulders. Jake was at her heels, never far from her side since their return. Janeway was glad to see Seven had regained the relaxed if precise poise she had enjoyed prior to her mother's discovery on that sphere, content that Erin was now safe and secure in a facility not far from where her family lived in Finland. Seven made a point of visiting often, and in the process, was learning to know her entire family, beginning the first tentative overtures of truly becoming close to them.

“Come here, darling,” Janeway invited, patting the cushion beside her.

Seven offered a brief smile and settled on the sofa next to the captain, her long, lean form golden in the flickering firelight. Jake lay down next to the other two dogs. The couple was quite comfortable in this home, and Janeway was truly grateful to her sister for allowing them to live there during their leave. Of course, they subsequently discovered that the reason Phoebe remained in Paris had less to do with her very successful showing, and far more to do with a young man, another artist, who was currently sharing her loft. Neither Janeway nor Seven were quite sure where that was leading, but in the meantime, they enjoyed the comfort of Phoebe's home, taking care of her dogs in her absence.

Janeway lay her hand companionably on Seven's thigh, her shoulder nudging against hers, feeling lazily content “Penny,” she said softly.

“For my thoughts?” Seven finished, lifting an eyebrow. “Nothing specific. I enjoy being here with you, Kathryn.”

“I always enjoy being with you. Wherever we are.” She exhaled slowly. “No more doubts about leaving Earth?”

Seven shook her head. “No. My mother is being adequately cared for, and she has loved ones close by. Both Nana and Papa insist I pursue my career in Starfleet.”

Janeway smiled. Seven no longer stumbled over the names her grandparents insisted she call them, and at this point, they were even uttered with a bit of warmth. If nothing else came of the terrible fate that had befallen Erin, at least her daughter and parents had forged a bond because of her sudden reappearance.

“I think they're right,” she said quietly.

“Of course you do,” Seven said placidly. “Their opinion is in complete accordance with your own.”

Janeway snorted laughter. Her spouse had started reaching for humor more and more recently, even during the times when she was stressed. In fact, now that Janeway thought of it, especially during those times. It was as if Seven had finally recognized that humor could balance a situation, help her maintain an even keel when the ground beneath her feet felt so uncertain. It was a charming addition to her personality, and the captain was warmed by it. Seven might never entirely lose all her implants or her Borg conditioning, but she was inexorably making progress on her path back to Humanity.

“Quit teasing and put your arms around me.”

Seven smiled and complied, pulling her close to her. Janeway settled happily into the embrace, leaning her head back against Seven's shoulder. She could feel the Borg nuzzle into the top of her head, resting her cheek against her hair. The slender yet powerful arms were warm across her chest, making Janeway feel safe and secure. A particularly loud crack of thunder was even more jarring because of that sense of coziness, making her jump and almost spill her coffee as the dogs lifted their heads, ears pricked.

“Whew, what a nice day to stay inside.”

“Yes,” Seven murmured, brushing her lips over the curve of Janeway's ear, and then down the line of her neck. “Perhaps to indulge indoor pursuits?”

Janeway felt a pleasant little tingle radiate through her body. “Why, darling,” she said, her voice dropping huskily, “whatever did you have in mind?”

Seven tightened one arm,while with the other, she took Janeway's mug from her and placed it on the end table. “I shall show you.” Reaching back, she began to unbutton Janeway's western-style shirt.

Janeway smiled happily and helped her partner undress her, shrugging out of the garment and dropping it onto the floor. Turning around, she noted that Seven's nipples were already stiff, protruding through the thin material of her t-shirt. The sight sent a rush of desire through Janeway, and she quivered slightly as she tugged the shirt off over Seven's head, along with her bra. Seven fell back onto the couch, and Janeway looked down at her topless spouse with possessive anticipation. Dropping her hands to Seven's waist, she fumbled with the buttons on her jeans, finally unfastening them and grasping the waistband firmly to draw them down over the slim hips, bunching them around the Borg's knees. Seven was wearing a delicate pair of panties, a white triangle covering the blonde thatch of hair, the sight more erotic than if she were completely nude. Janeway stopped Seven as she reached down to remove them.

“Leave them on,” she instructed huskily.

Seven looked vaguely amused, but obeyed, lying back as Janeway leaned down and kissed the silken material, feeling the soft mat of hair beneath her lips. She glanced up at Seven, offering a wicked smile and dipped her head once more, lips parting to...

The sharp rap at the door nearly prompted a heart attack. Janeway fell off the couch in a frantic effort to grab for her shirt and pull up Seven's pants at the same time, terrified beyond reason that it was her mother and that the knocking was merely a gesture of politeness before Gretchen came barging in. Casually, Seven shook off Janeway, leaving her in an awkward sprawl over the carpet as she rose gracefully from the cushions. Drawing up her jeans in one smooth motion, Seven fastened them and retrieved her t-shirt, pulling it on with a coolness that Janeway could only envy and never emulate. Scrambling to button up her shirt, first having to waste time turning it right side out, all thumbs as the fastenings stubbornly resisted her, Janeway pushed her bra under the sofa with her toe, while Seven's bra was quickly stuffed under the nearest cushion. Janeway sat down on top of it, looking wildly at Seven who was already at the door.

Seven glanced back briefly to see that the captain was reasonably presentable, and opened the door. Janeway only had a clear view of Seven from this angle, and she blinked at the profound surprise that appeared on her face.

“Tuvok.”

Startled, Janeway rose to her feet, belatedly tucking her shirt into her trousers as the Vulcan, who had served as her chief of security for seven years on Voyager, entered the house. Rain beaded on the shoulders of his uniform tunic, his close-cropped hair dripping rivulets down the side of his dark features. He assessed the captain and Seven dispassionately, though Janeway thought there might have been a bit of a twinkle in those brown eyes as he took in her disheveled state.

“I apologize for arriving unannounced, Captain,” he said in his evenly modulated tone.

Janeway stared at him, her mouth moving, but no sound coming out. Tuvok regarded her quizzically, a dark brow raised at an angle, politely waiting for her to find her voice. It took another large crack of thunder to jolt her into coherence.

“My God, come in, get dry.” She gestured toward the sofa, hesitated when she saw a brief flash of white beneath the cushion, and instead guided him to the large armchair by the fire. Tuvok appeared not to notice anything was amiss as he sat down, head tilted curiously as the two dogs, Maggie and Rufus, sniffed the hem of his trousers warily. They knew he was alien, but were unsure whether he was friend or foe. Jake, of course, was quite familiar with him and ignored him entirely. Janeway shooed the animals away, glancing at Seven who shrugged lightly and disappeared in the direction of the hallway.

Catching her breath, Janeway took a seat across from Tuvok on the sofa, trying to unobtrusively stuff the bra back into concealment. “What brings you all the way to Earth? Not that I'm complaining, mind you. It's so good to see you again.”

“Thank you,” he responded. “I am gratified to see you, as well.” He glanced up as Seven appeared beside him and offered a towel. He thanked her graciously, using it to dry his hair and face while Seven returned to the kitchen, undoubtedly to see to refreshments.

“What's going on, Tuvok?”

He folded the towel neatly and placed it on the arm of the chair. His dark eyes centered on the captain's. “I had business with Starfleet Command in San Francisco. I've been assigned to the operation intended to bring down the Orion Syndicate.”

Janeway blinked. “Oh.” The Vulcan had conducted his share of undercover operations for Starfleet Intelligence over the years. She wasn't sure why he was filling her in on this particular assignment unless it was because of the contract on Seven and her. “You'll be careful, of course.”

“Of course, but that is not why I chose to visit you in person. While on Earth, I received a communique from Commander Ro.” He paused as Seven reappeared, bearing a tray with mugs of steaming tea and some cookies. Sometimes, she was so domestic, it seemed impossible to believe that she had been a drone only a few years earlier. “She inquired as to whether I was interested in resuming my position as your chief of security.”

“What?”

Tuvok eyed her. “I take it that she has not discussed this with you?”

“Not at all.” Janeway glanced at Seven. “Darling, have you heard anything about this?”

Seven shook her head. “Not directly.” She paused thoughtfully. “This may have to do with the incident involving Peter Martin. The last time we had lunch, B'Elanna mentioned that Laren feels she mishandled that investigation. She is somewhat concerned about Laren's current confidence in her abilities.”

Tuvok balanced a cookie incongruously on his knee, the napkin a stark white against the black of his trousers. Seeing him sip his tea, Janeway felt a sense of unreality slip over her.

“Wait a minute, let's back up a second,” she said, raising an index finger. “What did Ro say to you?”

“She believes I would better fill the position of Millennium's chief security officer,” Tuvok said. “Regarding the investigation Seven mentioned, Ro filled me in on the details. It is my impression that she feels her performance was less than adequate.”

Janeway raked her fingers through her hair. “Honestly, Tuvok, I have no idea where this is coming from,” she said, confused. “I thought she did a fine job. She tracked down Martin, stopped him from escaping and later assisted in saving the ship from being destroyed. What more did she expect of herself?”

“Perhaps to have accomplished those things in a more timely and efficient manner?” Seven suggested quietly. “She wishes very much to please you, Kathryn.”

Janeway glanced at her, thought about it for a few moments and inclined her head. Turning her attention back to Tuvok, she offered him a smile. “Thank you for coming to me about this. I'll certainly look into it.”

“I was certain that you would, Captain.” He paused. “And you? Have you encountered any incidents?”

“With the Syndicate?” Janeway shook her head. “No, we've been staying pretty close to home. When we do travel out of the park, Michael ... Commander Patterson ... has arranged for security personnel to accompany us at all times. It's inconvenient, but I've had to accept the precautions imposed by Starfleet.”

Tuvok tilted his head, staring at her. “I am gratified to hear you're being so prudent, Captain, though I will admit, somewhat surprised, as well.”

Janeway blushed, knowing full well what he meant. Seven had a small smile curve the corners of her full lips.

“In truth, Kathryn is currently operating under a much higher authority than Starfleet Command,” she told him.

When Tuvok looked inquiringly at her, clearly expecting further enlightenment, Janeway exhaled audibly. “Mother told me that if I put myself, or worse, Annika, at risk because of my foolish pride, she'd personally make sure there was nothing left for the Syndicate to even bother about.” She met Tuvok's eyes, seeing the glint of amusement in them.

“That's a threat even I wouldn't dare challenge.”

​

Seven lay on the bed, naked but for her underwear, perusing a padd as she waited for Janeway to finish her ablutions in the small bathroom attached to the guestroom. When she came out, she was wearing one of Seven's blue t-shirts, the garment too large for her as the sleeves fell down over her elbows. The hem modestly, yet provocatively, draped about her hips, swaying with the motion of her walk. Finding that the planetary climate served to dry out her hands, Janeway rubbed them together, working moisturizer into the skin. Seven could detect the faint odor of the lotion from across the room.

As she slipped onto the bed, Janeway reached over and stroked the white triangle of Seven's panties with appreciative interest.

“Did you wear these for me, darling?” Her voice was husky.

Seven glanced at her briefly, lifting a brow. “Why would I do that?” Seven wasn't a very good liar, but she had adapted to the art of answering a question with another question. Of course, Janeway always knew what it meant when Seven suddenly started to dissemble, so she merely grinned wickedly at her. Taking a breath, Seven resumed her attention on her padd, trying to ignore her as best she could.

Janeway laughed, a low, throaty chuckle. Seven affected not to notice when she leaned over further and kissed the inside of Seven's left knee, then nibbled gently along the tender skin of her inner thigh. She couldn't help but pay attention, however, when Janeway crawled up over Seven's torso, knocking aside the padd and insinuating herself into her embrace.

Seven eyed her indulgently. “Do you require something, Kathryn?”

Janeway leered elegantly and kissed her, a full mouthed, luscious kiss. “On the contrary, I think it's you who wants something. First, after lunch, when you were all over me, and now, tonight, wearing those cute little briefs.”

Seven attempted to sigh. It did not impress Janeway who reached down and tugged at the panties.

“You don't play hard to get very well, love,” she informed her as she deftly peeled the underwear down the long legs, with Seven helpfully lifting her hips to facilitate their passage.

“Was I playing 'hard to get', Kathryn?”

Janeway just laughed as she settled on top of her. Seven smiled, accepting the passionate embrace with enjoyment and returning it with equal intensity. “I thought you would appreciate my panties.”

“Mm, I do, love,” Janeway assured her between the long, lingering kisses. “I had visions of removing them with my teeth.”

Seven drew back briefly. “What happened?”

“It was the 'heat of the moment' sort of thing this afternoon,” Janeway explained. “Now I just want you naked.”

“Ah,” Seven said, not entirely understanding her spouse's reasoning, but willing to go along with it. “What of you?”

Janeway sat up, straddling Seven as she pulled off the t-shirt. “Easily rectified.”

Seven immediately reached up and covered the firm breasts, toying with the soft brown nipples. Janeway smiled and briefly leaned into the caress, but slipped away after only a minute.

“Kathryn?”

“Relax, love,” Janeway purred as she moved lower onto her with sensual intent. “We'll get to me ... eventually.”

Seven smiled and relaxed onto the mattress, allowing her partner to set the pace of their lovemaking. She had been feeling amorous all day, as frustrated by Tuvok's timing as the captain, though she was not apt to display it as overtly as Kathryn. To compound the frustration, Tuvok had stayed for supper, and had not left until late in the evening as he and the captain spent hours reminiscing about their shared service in Starfleet. Seven did not begrudge his need to visit with his captain, nor Janeway's need to visit with him, but there were a few times when she wondered if he somehow suspected her arousal and was deliberately overstaying his welcome in order to delay her gratification.

Fortunately, her patience had not been in vain. Janeway apparently sensed that Seven required special consideration this night, and proceeded to caress and stroke her with the utmost skill and loving attention. Her mouth was a tender benediction, light on her skin, moving over swells and curves to incite the most wonderful desire within her. Seven closed her eyes, her head lolling on the pillow, her hands tangled lovingly in her partner's hair. Squirming slightly as strong hands parted her legs, she felt the warm breath waft over her intimate flesh, sending a chill of erotic anticipation through her.

Janeway did not continue the caress as expected, however, and Seven opened her eyes as Janeway rose briefly from her body and reached for the drawer in the table next to the bed, pulling out the Mini-Marvel 450 and a jar of lubrication. To Seven's surprise, however, Janeway did not don the penile probe, but rather, kept it in her hand as she trailed down Seven's body, kissing and nipping with renewed intent. This time, Seven was rewarded with the sensation of Janeway slipping between her legs and tasting her avidly, tormenting with teasing flicks from the tip of her tongue, covering her sensitive nubbin of flesh with lips of pure velvet, tugging on it gently. Seven groaned, arching as she felt the rounded head of the lubricated accessory probe her opening, gradually easing inside the heat and moisture. It remained for a moment within the wetness, filling her as Janeway's tongue moved over her with greater intensity.

Then the probe was removed, only to press against Seven's body again, seeking entrance into the lower orifice, causing her to shiver with delight. Lifting her left hand from Janeway's head, Seven reached above her to grasp the brass headboard. Metal screeched as the small pain of initial insertion past the restrictive band of muscle gave way to the pleasure of penetration into the channel. Internal muscles flexed and adjusted to the intrusion as Janeway's mouth intensified Seven's need, driving her ever higher with every stroke. Seven realized the captain had far more control by using the accessory manually, quickly finding a complementary rhythm between her slow, gentle thrusts and the feverish manipulation of her tongue and lips. The combination was intense, and Seven felt the rush of sensation cascade through her, her hips jerking spastically, her peak rushing through her with exquisite joy. 

Seven barely had time to savor it, however, before Janeway, her need acute, urged Seven over onto her stomach. Crouching on her hands and knees, Seven felt the captain position herself so that she could attach the device without having to withdraw it from its intimate resting place, the end of the device closing around her clitoris. It transmitted sensation to it from sensors aligned along the abbreviated shaft. Reaching around to Seven's front, Janeway began to caress her nodule fiercely, demandingly, as with her other hand, she grasped a warm handful of breast, squeezing with unrestrained delight. Seven shuddered as the caresses impacted on flesh that was still too sensitive from her previous climax, feeling overwhelmed by being taken so quickly. Moving vigorously within Seven, Janeway sought her own pleasure as she thrust against the soft cushion of buttocks, muttering words that were both loving and profane. Urged on to a second, more intense orgasm, Seven realized through a haze of pleasure that Janeway had finally reached her own, crying out in utter abandon as she buried herself as deeply as she could within her.

Seven collapsed on the bed, breathing hard as Janeway slumped heavily onto her back. Seven didn't know why she enjoyed this permutation of their lovemaking so much when previously, she had assiduously avoided penetration. Yet she could not deny that it was exciting to her in a way that other forms of lovemaking were not. Not that it was anything she would care for on a regular basis. It always left her feeling vulnerable, vaguely unsettled and slightly sore, but at the moment it was happening, it was all she wanted or desired. She needed the captain to possess her like this on occasion and, on some levels, she suspected that Janeway needed it as well.

Janeway inhaled deeply and rose, finding her strength again. Resting her palms on Seven's hips, she slowly and carefully withdrew, pulling the probe stickily from the intimate channel. Seven lay passively on the bed, throbbing pleasantly in time to her heartbeat as Janeway found a soft cloth and gently wiped away the excess lubrication from her spouse, and then wiped down the accessory. After putting it away, Janeway drew the covers up around them and curled around Seven, embracing her from behind.

“All right, darling?”

Seven sighed. “Oh, yes, Kathryn. You love me so well.”

A soft chuckle, husky and deep. “I'll admit, I'll never completely understand why you enjoy it so much, but I absolutely love doing it to you.”

“I do not know either,” she admitted drowsily. “I suspect it is because I have more nerve endings present in that part of my body than in others.”

 Janeway, undoubtedly reminded of how the Borg had mutilated her spouse and left her lacking in certain areas, pressed against Seven, hugging her with wiry strength.  “We’ll have to find new ways of exploring that aspect of your sexuality,” she offered quietly.

“I am unsure there are any further permutations to explore.”

 Janeway laughed softly.  “You’re not challenging me, are you, darling?”

 Seven shivered, either in apprehension or pleasure at the thought.  “I do not believe it is wise to challenge you, though you are the only one I would trust enough to be so intimate with me.”

“I would certainly hope so.” Janeway kissed her on the temple, and then moved lower, dropping her head to kiss Seven's shoulder blade. “Is there anything else you need, darling?”

Seven made a small sound of amusement. “That was quite sufficient.”

Janeway bit the point of the Borg's shoulder. “I mean, in general,” she explained, her voice warm with laughter. “Is there anything that you've ever wanted to try that I haven't provided?”

“I cannot imagine anything that we have not attempted, Kathryn.We always share our most secret fantasies and desires. If I do, you will be the first I inform.”

“I'll hold you to that.” Janeway drew her fingers up Seven's arm.

Seven forced her eyes open, though her lids were growing heavy. “Why, Kathryn? Is there something you have considered that you are hesitant about discussing with me?”

“No, love. Communication in the bedroom has never been one of our failings.”

“What of outside the bedroom? Is something troubling you?”

“Not specifically.” Janeway paused. “Tuvok is so proud of his youngest son. He talked about him practically all night.”

Seven nodded slowly, lifting a brow at the change of subject, and wondering where her partner was headed. “He is a most attentive parent.”

“It makes me wonder. We used to speak of having children all the time. Now, it's a topic that rarely, if ever, comes up. Why is that?”

Seven blinked. “I ... it has not seemed relevant recently. We shall have children one day.”

“I know, but when is that 'one day'?” Janeway lifted up, urging Seven around so that she was lying on her back and she could look down at the expression on her face. “It's so strange, darling. I was always the one hesitant about the concept of having children, but now I find myself thinking about it a lot, particularly since returning to Earth. But you seem to have completely forgotten about the idea.”

Seven looked into the bluish-grey eyes, reaching up to touch Janeway on her cheek. “I have not forgotten, Kathryn.”

Turning her head, Janeway kissed the tips of Seven's fingers. “Then please, talk to me, darling. Tell me what's going on with you.”

“I am afraid,” she admitted after a moment. “As I understand more about Humanity and what it means to be a mother, particularly after finding my own, I am frightened that I shall not make an adequate parent. I can be as self-absorbed in scientific pursuits as Erin Hansen ever was. Indeed, that preoccupation is why I drew back from the idea of having children during our previous residence on Earth. My interest in my profession has not lessened since that time. I enjoy being your science officer, Kathryn, and I enjoy our life in Starfleet. When I was contemplating the possibility of giving it up to look after Erin, I was resentful. It disturbs me to think that having children could provide the same sense of resentment. I once believed that having children was all I wanted, but now, I am no longer so certain. If so, I am afraid that I could not offer a child the proper attention and care he or she requires. I refuse to offer less than my best to any offspring we create.”

Janeway seemed about to speak, paused, and thought about it. Seven watched her face, detecting the slight alterations in muscle and skin that indicated more about her thought processes than she suspected the captain was aware.

“I was about to say that you'll make a wonderful mother, Annika,” Janeway said finally, quietly, “but I didn't want it to sound like false reassurance or just an idle comment. I want you to know that it's something I utterly believe with every fiber of my being. I know that Mom believes it as well, and you can't ask for a better authority on the subject than that. But I also know that it's natural to have doubts. I have them, too. After all, I'm more my father's daughter than my mother's.” She hesitated, her jaw moving as if tasting the words she would say. “We can't expect to be perfect parents, Annika. No one can. What we really have to discover is: do we want children in our lives right now, and will we love and care for them to the best of our ability.”

“You are still a starship captain, Kathryn. Do you really believe you could fit offspring into your life?”

“You mean, if you're not the principal caretaker? I guess that's what we've been assuming all along, but now that I understand how important your position as chief science officer is, we're going to have to change that assumption.”

“I do not want to give up any part of my work, Kathryn.” Seven told her honestly. “Not yet.”

“Nor do I want to give up any aspect of my command,” Janeway admitted with a touch of sadness. “Is it possible for both of us to compromise so that we both can give a little more? Be equally responsible for their upbringing, which is the way we should have been thinking all along?”

“Would it be enough?”

The starship captain considered it carefully. “Probably not.” She sighed quietly. “This is probably the wrong time to be having this discussion. The incident with your mother is still too fresh, we're being rushed back into space before we're completely ready, and the threat of the Orion Syndicate still hangs over us. I guess it's a bit much to ask that we do our family planning at the moment.”

“You have obviously been thinking about this, Kathryn.”

“Well, you know how domestic I become once I'm home.” Janeway smiled, leaning down to kiss her sweetly. “I think I forget sometimes that this is not really our life, nor do we want it to be. Once I'm back in space, it becomes very much about my ship and crew. I'm so fortunate to have you as my spouse. You understand me and what's required from both of us, but I can't expect a child to possess the same kind of understanding.” She settled down next to her, resting her head on Seven's chest. “I'm sorry, love. It was unfair of me to bring it up.”

“We need to discuss such issues on a regular basis,” Seven assured her. She paused. “Are you disappointed in me?”

“Of course not. You deserve to pursue a career in science as much as I do with my command. I'm glad that you can consider all the consequences before deciding upon a course of action. I'm even more grateful that you can be honest about how you feel, not only to yourself, but to me.” Her eyes grew distance. “It's a lot to ask of a child to understand why his or her parents can't be there when things become frightening or uncertain. I need to remember that.”

“In a crisis, we are always on the bridge, Kathryn. We are not able to be in our quarters, comforting and reassuring the child that he is safe. We cannot always leave our posts to be there when he is unhappy or disappointed. Who becomes responsible for the child then?”

“A nanny? Perhaps one of the ship's teachers?” Janeway rubbed her cheek lightly against the smooth skin of Seven's chest. “You're right, Annika. A child deserves better. Our child deserves better.”

“I did not always understand that on Voyager. I do, now.” The couple was silent for awhile, lost in their own thoughts. “One day, Kathryn. One day we will be able to let go of duty and turn that dedication to a family.”

Janeway snuggled close. “You're right, love. One day, we really will have it all.”

​

The controls of the shuttle were responsive beneath his hands, but not as enjoyable to manipulate as the joysticks installed on the delta flyers. That had been part of his contribution to their construction, appealing directly to his pilot's sensibilities, as he knew they would others. Tom Paris was proud of that, and he was proud to have served on Millennium as its wing commander, leading the contingent of seventeen fighter pilots and teaching yet another generation the fine line between thrills and skills.

But that was a thing of the past. Word had come down that the fighters were being removed from the Millennium. The official line was that the squadron hadn't reached its full potential, but Paris knew that wasn't the case. They had managed to operate to the full extent of their abilities. But when their launch vessel was more powerful, and possessed a faster cruising speed than the fighters, the squadron's primary mission as a protective escort was simply not required. Paris understood that, but the disappointment still lingered.

Now, he was the position of having to make a decision for himself, one that would affect the rest of his life. With his skills no longer required on Millennium, he needed to make a choice from all the offers that had poured in after their return to the Alpha Quadrant. The trouble was, none of them were really tempting. To take over a fleet on a starbase could only prove tedious. Paris was as much an explorer as he was a pilot. Having to remain on a planet or space station, only launching to run patrols or experience the occasional skirmish with a vessel up to no good, wasn't what he wanted for himself. Yet, accepting one of the helm positions on another starship didn't really appeal to him, either. After piloting vessels that touched space in all four quadrants, having to plod about the Federation, or even extending the boundaries within the Alpha Quadrant, just didn't have the same lure as sitting on the bridge of a Frontier-class explorer.

Then, there were personal concerns. He had made a lot of mistakes in his life, had let love slip through his fingers because of neglect or seeking some ultimate thrill that didn't really exist, all at the expense of his lovers, including B'Elanna Torres. He wasn't about to repeat that behavior. He and Kes, the ship's counselor for Millennium, were embarking on a relationship that could prove to be everything he had ever wanted or needed in his life. Kes wasn't going anywhere, her position on Millennium quite secure. It was up to Tom to find a way to stay with her.

That was why he was headed for the cornfields of Indiana. If there was one person who could give him advice on what he should do, it would be the captain.

To his dismay, as he descended through Earth's atmosphere, instructions were issued over the comm system, preventing him from implementing his flight plan. Apparently, shuttles and transporters were prohibited in the Brown County Agricultural Park, and he was diverted to a small city on its outskirts called Portage Creek. He had never visited the captain at the family home, though he had heard about it. A Traditionalist community, they limited technology wherever they could, farming and living off the land in the way of their ancestors. Paris certainly had an appreciation for history and tradition. He loved old things, particularly old machines, but while he freely indulged that fascination in holodecks and museums, or replicated antique devices to decorate his own home, he did so while still enjoying all the comforts of the 24th century. He had no idea why someone would want to live like that full time.

After landing the shuttle at the Portage Creek Transport Center, her shut down its engines and secured it against unauthorized access, even though this was Earth, and hardly necessary. Ingrained habits died hard. Crossing the tarmac, he inhaled the muggy Indiana air, tainted liberally with the metallic scent of environmentally friendly shuttle exhaust. Inside the cool, air-conditioned confines of the terminal, he found the nearest clerk, a fresh faced young woman with golden brown hair and hazel eyes.

Unconsciously, he offered a boyish smile. “Hi, there,” he greeted. “I'm trying to get to the Brown Agricultural Park. Where can I find a hovercraft?”

The smile she was displaying faded somewhat. “I'm sorry, sir, I can't help you. You need to visit the Starfleet kiosk on the upper level. Go left until you reach the third set of turbolifts on the right. That will deposit you directly in front of their offices.”

Paris blinked. That was unusual, but he inclined his head politely at the young woman and followed her directions. Starfleet generally wasn't involved with planetary transportation, particularly on Earth. He couldn't imagine what a Traditionalist community had to do with them, other than the fact that Janeway happened to be staying with her mother who lived there.

The officer manning the desk upstairs was nowhere near as attractive as the young woman downstairs. Sighing silently, Paris approached the young man, his smile no longer boyish. He wished he was wearing his uniform, rather than a short-sleeved blue shirt and tan trousers. Two gold pips would facilitate matters greatly, particularly with this Ensign.

“Yes, sir,” he said politely, glancing up as Tom approached. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi, I'm Lt. Tom Paris, Wing Commander of the USS Millennium. I'm trying to get to the Brown County Agricultural Park.” Paris faltered again as he saw the guarded look appear in the young man's dark eyes. “Would you mind telling me what's going on around here, Ensign?”

“I'm sorry, sir, could you step back here and verify your identity?”

Paris stared at him, but when the young man indicated the instructions were not the sort that could be argued with, he shrugged and did so. He was considerably surprised when the verification process he was forced to undergo included everything from a retinal check to a full body scan. Tom wasn't all that familiar with a Traditional lifestyle, but surely it didn't require all this just to visit.

“What the hell is going on here, Ensign?”

Another officer appeared, this one sporting a rank above Tom's. She was pretty, but imposing, her dark brown hair tied back tightly, granting a severe cast to her features. Tom took one look and knew she was Starfleet security.

“That will be all, Ensign Graves,” she said quietly. “I'll handle it from here.” She nodded at Paris. “I apologize for the rather extreme procedures, Lieutenant, but we have an operation in place. I'm Lt. Commander Carol Atwood.”

“Tom Paris,” he said shortly. “But you know that, or you should, by now.”

She smiled faintly. “Yes, we do. What is your purpose in visiting the Agricultural Park, Mr. Paris?”

“I'm planning to visit my commanding officer. Captain Kathryn Janeway. She's staying with her mother.”

“Indeed. And why do you want to see her?”

Paris blinked. “That's ... uh, kind of personal, if you don't mind.”

She stared at him for a moment and then smiled. “Of course,” she said. “You can find a hovercraft in the parking garage on the sub-level.”

“Wait, aren't you going to tell me what's going on?”

She handed him a navigational chip. “Please drop this off here when you return the vehicle.” A rather blatant way of telling him that she wasn't, and that, furthermore, his presence was no longer required or particularly welcomed.

Paris knew better than to object, but that didn't prevent him from fuming over it all the way to the Janeway homestead located about fifty kilometers inside the boundaries of the park. Tom was greeted by three Irish Setters as he stepped out of the land speeder, and he stood still as they sniffed him, unsure as to how friendly they were. Seven of Nine appeared on the front porch, and he was slightly taken aback at how incredible she looked, her hair down, her voluptuous figure garbed in a light, summer dress that left her shoulders and those incredibly long legs bare. Paris had never begrudged the captain her capture of the young woman's heart, but he was man enough to regret that he would never have an opportunity with her.

“Hey, Seven.”

“Tom Paris.” Seven gestured at the dogs who promptly obeyed her, retreating back to the porch. “I am pleased to see you.”

He grinned. The Borg would never say anything she didn't mean, and it flattered him. “Thanks. The captain around?”

“She is down by the pond,” Seven instructed, pointing across a cornfield.

Paris could make out a grove of willow trees on the other side. He used them as a navigational marker, grateful that the corn was still at a height that allowed him to see over it and keep them in sight. Before long, he was jumping over a deep drainage ditch that separated the cultivated field from one that had been left fallow. Insects launched into the air as he walked through the long grass, grasshoppers, butterflies, and other unidentifiable species making way for his passage. Next to the still waters of a picturesque pond, he discovered the captain leaning against a tree, reading a book. She glanced up when he was only halfway across the meadow, shading her eyes with her hand. A smile crossed her face and she stood up, brushing off her denim pants.

“Tom,” she said with obvious enthusiasm. “What brings you by?”

“I'm sorry to interrupt your leave, Captain,” he apologized as he reached her.

She waved it off. “To be honest, it's starting to become a trifle boring.” Paris was struck by how young she looked, dressed in a light shirt that had the sleeves rolled up, revealing wiry and tanned forearms. “I'm looking forward to getting back to my ship. What about you?”

“That's actually why I'm here, Captain. I've been fielding a lot of offers, and I'm not sure what to do.”

Her bluish-grey eyes sparked with interest. “I see. Nothing stands out?”

She gestured at a boulder shaded by the willow tree, and Paris took a seat on it while she sat down on another large stone nearby. She was instantly composed, he noticed. This might as well have been her ready room rather than a grassy meadow beside a pond where ducks glided serenely. He was always impressed by that aura of command. “Not exactly, Captain. I've actually come to ask a favor. I want to remain on Millennium.”

Her face sobered. “Tom, you know the auxiliary fleet has been restructured. The ship no longer needs a wing commander.” She reached out and patted his forearm. “You also know how much I value your skills, but I can't use you as a helmsman either. Even if I were prepared to transfer Lt. Nog from the alpha shift, you're still Terran. The transition jump simply doesn't allow for it.”

“I know, but Captain, you can still use a good helmsman for the beta and the gamma shifts,” he argued. “Not to mention a pilot for all those away missions. As good as Nog is, you know he doesn't check out as well on the delta flyers as I do. I helped design the things, after all. Then there's all that time I spent in sickbay on Voyager. I can still operate as a medical assistant.”

Paris realized a pleading note had crept into his voice, and he shut up before it became worse. Janeway was regarding him with a slight frown edging her mouth.

“Tom, you're asking for a demotion,” she said, in case it wasn't clear to him. “You could be chief helmsman on any vessel in the fleet. I know for a fact, Picard would love to have you back on the Enterprise.”

“I know, Captain, and believe me, I'm proud of that assessment. But I don't want any other posting. I want to stay with Millennium.”

“What's this really about, Tom?” She was staring at him as if she had never seen him before.

“Kes,” he admitted. “I don't want to be separated from her. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to stay with her. If that means a demotion, then it's something I'll gladly accept.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded. He hadn't been more serious about anything in his life.

She propped her elbow on her knee and supported her chin between her forefinger and thumb. Her eyes were grey, but he was glad to see a definite blue tinge around the outside of the irises. “You'd need to be stripped of a rank, Tom, moved back to a junior lieutenant. That's not something easily done, especially since you're in line to be promoted to Lt. Commander on your next posting.” She grinned suddenly, almost mischievously. “You'd have to earn a demotion.”

“I know, Captain. That's why I want to tell you all about how I slipped Paryk onto the roster so he could be the bartender in Nexus.”

She knew all about it, of course, but it had never been formally brought to her attention. To do so meant she would have to make an official report to Starfleet Command and place a reprimand in his permanent record. There was a brief pause as she stared at him, her jaw firm. Then, she inclined her head slightly, granting him the invitation to go ahead. Paris smiled widely as he explained every security protocol he had breached in order to allow the enthusiastic, but somewhat unqualified civilian to remain on Millennium after stowing away.

That smile never left his face as he and Janeway returned to the house where the captain used the communications system to contact Starfleet Command, informing them of the sudden confession of the Wing Commander, his subsequent fall from grace, and the captain's request that he remain her problem to deal with as she saw fit.

​

Epilogue

​

The cold red planet of Mars was no longer cold and not even particularly red anymore. Extensive terraforming had provided a temperate climate, though a little lower in air pressure than Earth, while the rusty soil was covered with emerald vegetation. It was somewhat like being at a high elevation, and Janeway had to adjust her respiration accordingly in the thin air. The gravity also remained light, and she felt as if a running jump would launch her into space. She didn't attempt it, however. Running in this atmosphere, when unused to it, could see her pass out and hit the ground before she managed to cover twenty feet.

Stepping off the land shuttle from Marsport, Janeway looked up at the large buildings that housed the lower ranks of officers assigned to the base, as well as those transients who just needed a place to stay before shipping out again. It was a far cry from the lavish, lakeside home Ro and B'Elanna had enjoyed when the couple had been posted here prior to reporting to Millennium. The captain wondered if they weren't already wishing they were back on board the starship. Of course, considering what Tuvok had told her, it was possible that neither woman had any intention of returning to Millennium. Janeway was both aggravated and slightly hurt that they hadn't come to her to discuss what was obviously a bit of a problem.

She found their name on the listing in the lobby. There were several cadets and lower ranked officers in the halls, and she had to keep acknowledging their respectful nods, grateful that Starfleet didn't have a tradition of saluting. If it had, by the time she reached the floor containing Ro's apartment, her arm would have fallen off. As it were, she had a slight kink in her neck from inclining her head. She supposed she shouldn't have worn her uniform, but then, she wanted it to be clear that she was here in the capacity of Ro's senior officer.

She touched the chime on the outside of the door, waiting impatiently. She supposed she should have called first. It was possible the women weren't home. She had barely considered the thought when the door hissed open and she saw B'Elanna on the other side. The Klingon grinned widely, displaying sharp edged teeth, as she stepped aside, gesturing grandly.

“Come in, Captain,” she said, obviously glad to see her. “It's not a palace, but it keeps the rain off.”

Janeway smiled as she entered. It wasn't as small as she had anticipated, even boasting a tiny balcony through glass doors, but it was decidedly space efficient, with a single, medium sized room pulling triple duty as kitchen, dining and living area. It was entirely possible that the couple's quarters on the Millennium were larger. At least they had a separate bedroom. Janeway could see it through the door to her right.

Ro Laren, sitting at a work station in the corner, hastily rose to her feet. The Bajoran was dressed in a sapphire tunic and dark pants, her short shock of dark hair held back from her forehead by a blue headband. She moved toward the captain with a dancer's grace.

“Captain?”

“Commander,” Janeway said shortly, her emphasis on rank indicating this was not a social call. She glanced at B'Elanna. “I would like to speak with my security chief, if I could. I realize it's an imposition and this is your home...”

“No, it's all right,” B'Elanna said, frowning slightly as she glanced back and forth between them. “I was ... ah, going out anyway.” She retrieved a light jacket from the bedroom and disappeared out the door. Ro watched her go, seeming somewhat bemused, and then looked back at Janeway.

“Yes, Captain?”

Janeway regarded her, a muscle jumping in her jaw. “Tuvok came to see me.”

“Ah,” she said, closing her eyes. “I had assumed when he told me he was on a new assignment, that would be the end of it.”

“He worries about you. Why didn't you come to me immediately?”

Ro straightened her shoulders. “Until I found a replacement, it didn't seem fair.”

“I'm the one who decides about personnel, Commander, not you.” The whip of command was in Janeway's voice now, and she was pleased to see that it still stung, Ro wincing visibly. “Why do you think a replacement is required?”

“You know how I handled the investigation into the sabotage.” Ro's jaw was rigid. “The suspect practically had to attack me before I figured out who it was. Seven had to uncover the tie to the Orion Syndicate. Zar and B'Elanna had to rescue Tarn.” Her fists clenched. “I was useless.”

“If I thought that, I would have been the first to tell you. It was a team effort, Ro. It's supposed to be like that. If there was any mistake made, then it was mine by placing the entire burden of the investigation on your shoulders rather than calling on my entire senior staff from the beginning.”

“It was my job to find the saboteur!”

“You did.”

“Not soon enough.”

Janeway lifted her index finger, finding a chair and taking a seat. She thought it was time to lessen the intensity permeating the room. “So, it's a matter of failing to live up to expectations. The question is, whose expectations are we talking about here, Laren?”

Ro stared at her, her features the slightest bit confused, as if uncertain what Janeway was doing. Janeway knew that keeping Ro off balance was the best way to handle her, to remind her that despite her vast experience, when it came to Starfleet, she was still somewhat of a novice. “Captain, as chief of security, the safety of the crew and the ship is my responsibility.”

“And it's my responsibility to know the capabilities of my officers. This was a criminal investigation. I don't expect my chief of security to be a detective.”

“Tuvok is.”

Janeway shrugged. “So he is. It's one of his strengths, as a matter of fact. Yet, one of his weaknesses is that he's absolutely terrible in bar brawls. He inevitably swings when he should duck and I usually have to drag him out by the hair.” Ro frowned in confusion and Janeway suppressed a smile. “Don't you, see, Laren? I don't expect you to be all things as a security chief any more than I expected him to be. Nor do I want you to be an imitation Tuvok. I just want you to be the best Ro you can be.”

Ro stared at her, her face like stone. “What if that's not good enough?”

“Then I'm that one that decides that, not you. Are you tired of serving me, Commander? Do you want to transfer off? I can arrange it. I don't need anyone on my vessel who isn't prepared to give me her best.”

Ro bent her head, unable suddenly to look Janeway in the eye. “I had hoped, in the event Tuvok accepted the position, that I could remain as his assistant.”

“It doesn't work like that, Laren. You can't go backward. You can only move forward.” She decided not to tell anyone about Tom Paris just yet. Of course, he was still moving forward where it counted the most; in his personal life.

Ro's mouth twitched, as if she were tasting something unpalatable. “Yes, Captain.”

Janeway's voice gentled. “It's not a failure to ask for help.”

Ro's dark eyes came up to meet Janeway's, flashing slightly, and despite her best effort to restrain it, Janeway was forced to laugh. “All right, I admit that perhaps I'm not the best person to be offering that piece of advice, but that's a flaw that only starship captains are allowed. When you earn that fourth pip, then you can play the lone wolf and get away with it.”

 ”Do you really believe I'll ever see a fourth pip?” Ro suddenly looked bleak.

Janeway settled back in the chair, crossing her legs elegantly as she regarded the Bajoran. “Do you know why I like you, Laren?”

Ro blinked, obviously confused at the apparent change of subject. “Why?”

“Because you make mistakes,” Janeway said. “Sometimes, really big ones, but you never let them stop you. You pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and fling yourself into the fray once more. More importantly, I never feel that you give anything less than your best in whatever you're doing. It might not always be the proper course of action, or even what someone else would do in the same situation, but it's always your best. I don't want to see you back away from that unique quality. I think you're doing that here, and if that behavior is what you've learned serving under my command, then you've learned the wrong lesson.”

“Captain—” Ro's voice was unsteady.

Janeway stood up abruptly. “Think about it. Be there at the tactical station when it's time to ship out. Otherwise, send your replacement and make sure they can handle the job. In either case, nothing more will be said about it. It's completely your decision.”

Before Ro could respond further, Janeway swept out of there, the door sliding shut behind her. She wasn't sure if what she said had penetrated Ro's insecurities, but she hoped that she would manage to untangle herself from all her doubts. In the meantime, Janeway had a lunch date with a beautiful woman, and she wasn't about to be late.

She ran into B'Elanna in the building lobby. The engineer had been hanging out with a few of the base personnel, swapping stories when she saw the captain come off the lift. She immediately intercepted her.

“What's going on, Captain?”

Janeway eyed her judiciously. B'Elanna wasn't just her chief engineer, she was Seven's friend. That gave her a certain responsibility toward her. “Did you know that Ro contacted Tuvok to take over her posting on Millennium?”

From B'Elanna's expression, she had her answer before anything could be said, and she held up her hand. “Far be it for me to offer advice about a relationship, B'Elanna. It might be a good idea to have a talk with Laren. The sort of talk that Klingon stubbornness won't let go until it's resolved.”

B'Elanna stared at her, and then dipped her head in acknowledgment, heading for the lift with a determined set to her jaw. Janeway didn't know if it would do any good, but she figured she had done her best here, and now it was time to let events take their course. That was the other aspect of dealing with Ro. Not only did Janeway have to keep Ro off balance, she was never entirely sure how it was going to turn out in the end. Such uncertainty was not how the captain normally liked to operate, but there was something about dealing with Ro that intrigued her. Standing there, she realized she had absolutely no idea whether the Bajoran would be there at tactical when it came time to break orbit from Earth. In either case, she would be surprised, and she supposed that was the real reason she kept after the enigmatic Bajoran, kept trying to mold her into the officer she thought she could be. Ro Laren was such an exquisite challenge, and when it came right down to it, there was nothing Janeway liked better than a challenge.

She was waiting at an outdoor table at a café in the center of Marsport. Janeway paused on the walkway as she came into sight, taking a moment to simply appreciate the vision that was Seven of Nine. Nor was the only person to do so. Janeway could see at least ten others in the vicinity, only eight of them male, who were observing the icy beauty with undisguised fascination. That included the security officers who were shadowing the couple. Janeway did her best not to swagger as she finally approached the table and bent over Seven, kissing her on the mouth with a touch of possessiveness.

“Hello, darling,” she said as she slipped into the seat opposite Seven. “I'm sorry I'm late.”

Seven lifted a brow. “For you, this is punctual.”

Janeway laughed and raised her hand, signaling the waiter. Seven regarded her with brilliant eyes. “Did you speak with Laren?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

 ”I don't know. She'll have to make up her own mind as to whether or not she's ready to continue with Millennium. I've done all I can.” Janeway flashed her a smile.

“That is unlike you.”

“Darling, if there's one thing I've learned over this past year, it's when to leave things alone. I just wish the officers would come to me when they're having doubts.”

“Sometimes, other influences must be brought to bear to solve the problem, and you may never know anything about it.”

“Perhaps,” Janeway said carelessly. “I tend to find out eventually, no matter what.”

Seven did not respond to the comment, looking instead at the waiter who had arrived to take their order. She selected a light pasta salad while Janeway went for a heartier soup and sandwich. While they were waiting for their meal, Janeway leaned back in her seat and regarded her spouse with marked intensity. Seven became aware of it and lifted a brow.

“Kathryn?”

“I absolutely adore you, my darling. You know that, don't you?”

“I do. I love you, Kathryn.”

“We'll always be together, won't we?”

Seven eyed her, recognizing that an unusually sensitive moment had occurred with her spouse. Janeway wasn't quite sure why it had descended upon her, but both women had learned to indulge such instances when they occurred.

“Of course, Kathryn. Our two paths shall always be as one.”

Janeway smiled.

“That's all I needed to know, darling. In fact, that's all I'll ever need to know.”

​

The End