© May 1, 2001
Disclaimer: Voyager belongs to Paramount Pictures. No infringement intended.
Dedicated to Jinny who will make me think twice, from now on, before I loose faith in a story. Thanks for putting up with how my mind *doesn’t work! Yes, okay, I admit it – I AM a dufus. Doh.

Famous. Flash. She didn’t feel famous. Flash. She hadn’t done anything that any other Captain wouldn’t do. Flash. All she had done was to get her crew home.

The flashes of the holocameras were making Kathryn Janeway absolutely, positively sick to her stomach. One more quick flash in her direction and she was heading back to the Delta Quadrant for good. If only that were possible. Then again, maybe it was just her nerves that had led her to such an absurd thought such as that? Who had a clue. She certainly didn’t.

Between the ongoing spectacular sensation of their homecoming (that even Q couldn’t out-do) and her anxiousness to get back home to see her mother, she felt as scattered and as anxious as a Ferengi around unobtainable gold.

“Ms. Janeway! Captain Janeway!” yet another nameless reporter hollered in her direction as she walked from the lush, Starfleet grounds back toward the building that housed headquarters. She had originally gone outside to gather her thoughts, to enjoy the gardens, to have a peaceful moment; she should have known that wouldn’t happen today, maybe not even tomorrow or perhaps not even the next day. Everything was still too new. Their arrival, on earth, was too new.

A part of her missed her recent past with such a surprisingly well integrated crew; her ill adopted home in the Delta Quadrant; her secluded time with people she had come to know even better than her own sister, or father, or . . mother? . . on that Intrepid class ship.

“Is it true you infiltrated the Borg Queen’s unimatrix? Were you yourself a Borg?” yet another voice, this time a woman’s, reached her ears.

“What sort of implants have you retained?” someone else asked.

They were starting to get personal. Good for them. But not personal enough – thank God. They weren’t asking anything extraordinary. Nothing they had inquired about had been top secret. Not really. She could think of many other things that would’ve made a headline or two. Things from Voyager’s personal life, from her life onboard, that would have had every Admiral and Civilian’s ears ringing from San Francisco to New York. But then again, that was top secret.

“No comment!” Kathryn Janeway’s voice was firm but held a ring of humor to it for all to hear. That was how she handled things best . . . a mixture of casual seriousness with unexplained contentment and calm.

“But Ms. Janeway—!” That was the last she heard as the door shut behind her entrance back into headquarters. All that echoed up towards her ears were the sounds of her standard issue boots crossing the marble floor with a repeating ‘clinking’ sound.

She felt the dimming warm of what remained of the day float through the windows of the building to fall on her back, her shoulders and her hair. The sun was departing with the end of the evening and night would soon be at her back.

Chakotay had been marvelous. Oh, her Commander had always been marvelous. The way he had held such respect, offered such honesty to the Admirals and other Starfleet officials who had handled the debriefing they had been a part for the past week. She had had nothing better to do than to walk away with a smile on her face for the four of the five days that they had been in those meetings. But the fifth day, well, her smile had quickly turned to a frown. Kathryn had, according to Starfleet, done her duties as a Captain well. A promotion was in her near future. Did she want it? She didn’t know.

Chakotay’s efforts of filling the role of Commander to the Intrepid ship under a time of stress and uncertainty were dutifully noted. However, there were other things that, funnily enough, still had to be noted by officials about the former Maquis before his name was totally clear. Kathryn had ranted and raved silently in his presence after that meeting; when Chakotay just looked at her, laid a hand on her shoulder and said, “What’s in a name?” she had been at peace. “I know who I am,” he had continued. “I don’t need for them to tell me that.” She agreed. For the most part.

Captain Janeway was free to go; so were the rest of her Starfleet crew. But Chakotay and the former Maquis? They had another day left. Frustration coursed through Kathryn’s body and mind, willing it to not let go of the issues and to find the energy take up one more fight.

For the rest of the evening, she paced in her room, reviewing memories, placing words with deeds and trying to grasp at a few things she just hadn’t had time to figure out on the way back home. It was in the wee hours of the morning with this maddening delight of powerful thoughts and confirming ideas that she returned to her temporary quarters, on the fourteenth floor of headquarters and went intentionally to the view screen – to the personal communications module – where she was going to place a long overdue call from Earth – the location of her choice -- for once. Talk about available airtime.

She sighed as she sat down on the edge of the bed. Her right hand felt rather clumsy with no cup of coffee to clutch to. Punching in the transmission code, she sat back and waited.

A very familiar sigh rang true with the image that appeared on the screen before her.

“Kathryn—“

“Mom, I know it’s late,” Kathryn held up her hand to ward a few words off but she didn’t quite succeed in her efforts.

“Late? Are you kidding me? Dear, it’s two twenty-three in the morning! Is this the way you make contact with your mother from Earth for the first time in over seven years?”

“Mom—“ Kathryn tried to get a word in.

“You know at my age I need my sleep. I’m not the young woman I used to be. I don’t have your energy or spunk. I love you dearly and I certainly can’t wait to see you, but for heaven’s sake –“

“Mom—“ Kathryn tried again.

“Why can’t you call me during normal hours like the rest of your co-workers do with their families? Your father always said—“

“Mother!”

“Yes dear?”

“ Please.”

“I’m sorry, Kathryn. Something must be wrong. What’s wrong?” her mother sat down as well on the other side and ran a hand through her sleep-tousled hair.

“I’ve just . . . missed you. To wait another day – another hour – seemed too damn long.”

“We’ve spoken before like this,” Gretchen Janeway smiled softly to her daughter.

“Yes, but we’re so close this time,” Kathryn explained – the word close meaning on the same planet with one another. That meant something.

“Just a while longer,” her mother added for good measure. “You are coming home soon, aren’t you? Home to Indiana? To the farm?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Kathryn smiled. “Just one more day of dealing with Starfleet and then I’ll be on that transporter pad, ready to go.” Gretchen Janeway was thoughtful, “I thought your time with debriefings had ended?”

Kathryn looked down at her hands and then up at her mother’s image again, “I had to stay close by. One of my crew still needs me.”

“One of those Maquis?” she asked raising her eyebrows.

“Yes – No –“ Kathryn sighed. “My Commander..”

“Your Commander, Kathryn? Your father never used the possessive as a prefix for –“

“May I finish?” Kathryn glared.

“You always look like your Great Aunt Matilda when you do that. Go on.”

“He’s been by my side for seven years. In my experience and with my knowledge of Starfleet all I can say is that he deserves a clean slate; a chance to settle into something new; to be able to walk away from the past just as much as I want to,” Kathryn explained.

Kathryn’s mother was silent for a moment. “What sort of past do you have?”

“Don’t change the subject, Mom.”

Gretchen chuckled knowing that Kathryn’s mind was focused primarily on business for the time being. “I have never seen this Commander of yours – is he very frightful? Rough and tough? A rebel with a cause? Kathryn—“

“Mom –“

“Is he handsome?”

“Mother. We didn’t have that kind of ‘working relationship.’”

“What a shame,” Gretchen sniffed. “Well, do call me at a reasonable hour tomorrow.”

“Good night,” Kathryn smiled. “Oh, Mother, wait!” she sat forward, intent with what she had just remembered.

“What is it, Kathryn?” her mother asked, concern suddenly back as an expression on her face.

“I do have something wonderful to tell you—“

“What is it, Kathryn?”

“Not here, not now, Mom! But -- For Mother’s day,” Kathryn smiled.

“Do I get a clue? Oh no, you never worked that way,” she stated with a twinkle in her eye. She shared a silent moment with her daughter. In the end, Gretchen Janeway reached out her hand to the cold screen of the monitor – running her fingers tenderly across the area of her face that would have been the skin of her cheek. “You’ve always been such a remarkable woman . . . a remarkable daughter. I’m so glad you’ve come home.”

The transmission ended and Kathryn blinked back tears. What would her mother think if she truly new her in the end. Sometimes she didn’t even know herself all that well.

“You waited,” Chakotay smiled as he walked out of the door from the room he had been caged in all day due to final debriefings.

“Of course,” Kathryn quirked a half smile. “How did it go?”

“You really want to know? Right here and right now?” Chakotay cocked his head to the side, spoke softly but with teasing in effect to the words.

“Maybe not,” Kathryn muttered slightly through a firm smile as Admiral Hayes walked out the door and toward the two of them.

“Captain, I’d have thought you made your way home by now,” he stated with a rather booming voice. They all had booming voices these days.

“Home? Technically I am home, Admiral. But, I always wait until the last minute before I have to finally say goodbye,” she stated.

Hayes nodded his head and left with the rest of the Admirals.

“I take it you can leave?” Kathryn asked.

“Am I free to go? Yes,” Chakotay replied.

They started to walk together, down the hallway that would eventually lead them back out into the real world. Side by side, they had been here like this before, countless days, countless nights; through weeks and months and sometimes through years of hell.

“Did you have any specific plans,” Kathryn started. “I mean on where you were going to go from here? Family? Friends?”

“I was invited to spend some time with Tom and B’Elanna. More B’Elanna’s request than Tom’s,” he smirked. “Why?”

“I’m going home, of course,” Kathryn stated. “That is if I can get through that wild press out there. They’re just looking for a headline.”

“Wasn’t our arrival enough?” Chakotay laughed. They approached the doors to the outside and saw the groups of reporters waiting with holocamera’s in hand to capture picture after picture of them. “Guess not.”

“Chakotay –“ Kathryn started as they walked through the doors outside. Her heart was beating at a slightly faster pace than was necessary. Why was she doing this?

“Kathryn?” Chakotay asked as they stepped out onto the concrete walkway that would take them to the transporter pads.

The roar of the news people and their rapidly asked questions suddenly made it hard for Kathryn to focus her thoughts and words.

“Chakotay—“ Kathryn tried again, yelling this time to be heard. “Would you want to come home with me?”

“Kathryn – I can’t hear you!” Chakotay strained above the noise of the crowd that was making its way towards the both of them.

“I said,” she started and practically choked on the words that were going to leave her mouth when a live holocamera produced itself in her face.

“I’m here live with the Captain and the Commander of the U.S.S. Voyager, recently returned from the Delta Quadrant –“ the persona rambled on.

Kathryn felt herself becoming suddenly separated from Chakotay as the crowd rushed in, following the live holocamera man’s example. They were tearing them apart from one another.

“Chakotay,” Kathryn stated, reaching out a hand in his direction, trying to remain calm but caught off guard at how rather greedily they were separating the two of them in so quick an amount of time.

“Tell us, Captain, did Starfleet question any of your motives concerning the integration of the Maquis crew so intimately among your –“

A strong arm wrapped itself around her waist all of a sudden. Kathryn whirled, struck by the intimacy someone had touched her with and then, when the culprit was in view, she relaxed.

“She has no comment at this time,” Chakotay stated as he held onto Kathryn and moved her off to the side. He kept his arm around her waist and guided her past the crowd of reporters. His actions were swift and successful as they finally made it out of the wilds of holo-vision and into a speedy run towards the transporter area.

Kathryn laughed and bent over to catch her breath, “Thank you, Chakotay. I thought I had lost you.”

“If you had, it would have only been temporarily,” he explained. “What were you saying earlier – I couldn’t hear you.”

“It was nothing, nothing important,” Kathryn said carefully. “Besides, I’ve already forgotten what I had to say.”

Gretchen Janeway stared at the live image of her daughter and the Commander that was being produced on her monitor at home. She watched as Kathryn came out through the doors, side by side with . . . that man. The sound, due to the bumping and hollering of the other reporters, was ill recorded at best – she couldn’t catch what Kathryn had been saying to the Commander and vice versa – but what she had caught, as any mother would, was the possessiveness in his arm as he freed her daughter from the onslaught of the crowd; the relief in Kathryn’s eyes when he had answered for her; lord only knew that they had been molded to one another when they had moved through that horrendous crowd finally freeing themselves together.

Gretchen sniffed, thoughtfully to herself, as she eyed the images before they disappeared from sight on her small monitor. She heard Kathryn’s words repeat themselves in her head . . . ‘something wonderful to tell you . . .’

“My God,” Gretchen muttered. “She’s gone and done it.”

Slapping her knee, she stood and put a hand up to her temple, “She has – that would explain the looks, the touching and the – that –“ It was in that moment, she understood what her daughter had to tell her.

Chakotay was back at Kathryn’s side in two paces. “I don’t believe you,” he stated in her ear. And he didn’t. Not really. If he had come to expect anything from Kathryn Janeway it was that she kept things from him utterly and completely when she felt compelled to do so for ‘his benefit.’ Not really anything beneficial about it.

“Chakotay, some days you frustrate me,” Kathryn muttered.

“Your point, Captain?” he asked.

“I asked if you wanted to come home with me,” she stated and moved her weight from one leg to another.

He was pausing. Chakotay was in thought. That wasn’t good.

“I just thought – we’ve come to know each other so well on Voyager – why not go that extra step –“ she rambled.

“An extra step,” Chakotay was thoughtful.

“But please, you are under no further obligation to stick by my side anymore; our mission is, after all, accomplished,” she added quickly. It all made sense. Really.

“Oh I don’t know,” Chakotay smiled. “I think I’d prefer to spend some more time with you today . . . maybe even tomorrow . . .”

“’Maybe?!’” Kathryn was incredulous but laughing.

“ . . . perhaps even a year from now . . .” He continued not giving up.

“Perhaps?! Alright, I take back my offer,” Kathryn smirked.

“So is your Mother expecting me, then?” Chakotay asked as they stepped towards the transporter. “Did you at least warn her she might have an extra house guest?”

“No, not really,” Kathryn shrugged and smiled while taking her long friend’s hand. “She doesn’t know you’re coming yet. But that’s okay; I know you’ll feel right at home. We have nothing to worry about.”

Gretchen Janeway was standing right in front of Kathryn and Chakotay as they materialized from the transport terminal. She watched as the image of her daughter slowly came together as a complete picture before her eyes. And it was then that those old eyes of hers filled themselves with tears.

Kathryn Janeway looked to see her mother before her. “Mom,” she stated quietly as if adjusting to the sound of it coming from her lips again. It took only the softness of Chakotay’s hand being placed on the middle of her back and a little nudge forward for her to be stepping quickly off the transporter pad and into Gretchen’s arms.

“I’m early, I know,” she stated as they hugged. “Oh, Kathryn. I’m so glad I didn’t have to lose you too. First your father . . . then that sweet boy you loved . . .”

“I’m home,” Kathryn stated, more to herself than anyone, with the warmth of her embrace.

“Speaking of sweet boys you love,” Gretchen pulled away, smiling.

Kathryn was a little lost in following what her mother was talking about. She watched though as Gretchen walked up to extend her hand to Chakotay.

Chakotay knew, from the stories that Kathryn had told to him during all their years in the Delta Quadrant, that Mrs. Janeway was about as warm as they could come in the parental occupation. She was also a brilliant woman, no doubt, if Kathryn was the reflection of her maternal rearing.

“Mr. Chakotay, is it?” she questioned his name.

Chakotay stepped down, his hand holding the older woman’s in his own. He was slightly surprised at her strength when she tugged him in close for a warm hug; it took everything he had not to swallow with worry.

“Yes, that’s right,” Chakotay chuckled. This was more than he had expected.

This was more than Kathryn had expected from her mother. A handshake, fine. A warm pat on the back, fine. Even a pat on his butt, fine. But she was hugging Chakotay and not letting go.

“Mom,” Kathryn started forward. “Mom – come on –“ Kathryn laughed nervously wondering what in the world had gotten into her flesh and blood? Surely Gretchen Janeway hadn’t changed that much in seven years? Had she? “Mother let go of the Commander –“

Gretchen pulled away and her eyes were still teary. It was getting past the point of sentimentality that she just couldn’t seem to accomplish.

“Are you alright?” Chakotay asked holding the older woman at arms length.

“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Janeway sighed. Her smile was contagious. “It’s just good to know Kathryn picked a good man. Even with your background –“

“Picked….?” Kathryn started.

Chakotay looked from daughter to mother and back again having no idea what was happening. “I think it has to do with me being a Maquis?” he questioned aloud.

“No, no son – son – I think I’ll love saying that,” she stated happily. “Come along now – it’s an hour’s ride out to the house. We’ll have lots of time to reflect on this wonderful news.”

“News? Mother, what news?” Kathryn asked. Yes. She was home. She was going mental with frustration and confusion so this was definitely home. And she had yet to deal with a visit from Phoebe.

“Why your marriage to the Commander of course, Kathryn. And you think I wouldn’t know? Wouldn’t have guessed from your earlier hint on that personal call you made? I saw how you two were inseparable on those live transmissions!” Gretchen stated.

“We’re not married!” Kathryn and Chakotay stated, alarmed, in unison.

“Mother, it’s Chakotay’s job to stand by me, to be there for me,” Kathryn stated.

Chakotay had yet to move. He was stuck to where he stood from pure amusement, worry and shock. Realization.

“Yes, of course Kathryn. But – Well, as your husband he will do just the same. Your father always – oh I am going on, let’s go home – Why did you hesitate to tell me? Did it have to do with those reporters and the debriefings? Of course. I should have known, ” she stammered. Turning to Chakotay she eyed him, “Now that I spoiled your secret, I suppose it’s only fitting I say . . . Welcome to the Family!”

They were in the hovercraft. Gretchen Janeway was piloting while Kathryn and Chakotay sat in the back, arms folded, reflecting quietly on how they could right this terrible, horrible wrong.

“So, Mr. Chakotay,” Gretchen stated, shattering the silence that had been itching away at both the Captain and the Commander.

“Yes, Mam?” he asked.

“Is it crunch time?” Gretchen laughed.

Kathryn glared as Chakotay suddenly smiled.

“She got that from her father,” Kathryn’s mother explained. “Trade secret; I only told you because you’re one of the family now. So – what do you love most about my daughter?”

Kathryn paled. Chakotay swallowed, his face growing red.

“Where to start,” he stated and his voice nearly ended an octave or five above normal range.

“How about the first time you laid eyes on her?” Gretchen was on a roll. “Was it love at first site?”

Kathryn groaned. How was he going to leave out the part that Chakotay had originally showed up with a phaser and not a ring clutched between his fingers? Besides it wasn’t love at first sight! They weren’t in love. They were friends. They worked together. They shared many things, but not love. That was the most absurd idea she had encountered since . . . since . . . New Earth?”

“The first time we encountered one another,” Chakotay started. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of her,” he stated carefully.

“That’s because I was blocking you from trying to strangle Mr. Paris,” Kathryn hissed into his ears.

Chakotay slumped down in the seat slightly.

“What did you say Kathryn? Speak up,” Gretchen Janeway asked.

“She held my complete attention,” Chakotay glared at Kathryn offering that one up instead and giving her a look that said that had better be good enough.

“Oh how romantic,” Mrs. Janeway sighed. “When was the first time he told you he loved you Kathryn?”

Kathryn couldn’t swallow. She couldn’t blink. Her throat was so dry – incredibly dry – did she have a mind to think with by the way?

“You remember, don’t you dear?” Chakotay spoke up.

Kathryn Janeway cast wide, disbelieving eyes on Chakotay, “Don’t encourage her!”

“What Kathryn?”

“I said,” Kathryn rubbed at the back of her neck, thinking, “have you ever heard the angry warrior legend, Mother?”

“Angry what? No dear, you’ll have to tell it to me when we get home,” she stated happily.

Everyone fell silent again and the hovercraft hummed happily away as they made their way home. Two people quietly contemplated jumping out of a moving hovercraft and running for their single lives. And one couldn’t wait to hear what legends were made of.

Kathryn sat down next to Chakotay on the full bed in the guest room of her old childhood home.

“I apologize for her confusion,” Kathryn stated. “It’s been seven years – perhaps Phoebe forgot to tell me something about her mind . . . “

“I don’t think that’s the case Kathryn; I know when your tone hints at a bit of humor,” Chakotay raised his eyebrows. “That was definitely you trying to make light of a dire situation.”

“It is slightly amusing,” she stated. “But I’m worried . . .”

“About?” he asked. “Being married to me?” He bounced up and down on the corner of the bed. “Nice springs.”

“Don’t even start, Chakotay. What are we going to do?” Kathryn sighed and murmured, dropping her head into her hands.

“We?” Chakotay chocked. “She’s your mother.”

“Well apparently she’s yours now too!” Kathryn looked up sharply. “This will break her heart. And it’s mother’s day tomorrow and Phoebe is coming. Oh god, Phoebe.”

“Your sister?” Chakotay asked. “Is she as beautiful as you wife?”

“She’ll know we’re up to something; she’ll figure out what Mom didn’t!” Kathryn muttered. Her sister was sneaky that way.

“Which is?”

“That we’re not in love; not married; haven’t even been dating!” Kathryn explained, throwing up her hands.

“So what if we – pretended –“

“For the rest of our lives, Chakotay?”

“You’ve got a point there – Let’s sleep on it, Captain.”

“But not together.”

Kathryn’s nose twitched and her ears screamed. The tantalizing aroma of fresh, morning-brewed coffee drifted up to awaken not only her acute sense of smell but also her sleep-deprived mind and its rather confused thoughts.

It was all Chakotay’s fault – this lack of sleep Kathryn was suffering. He had complained about having to sleep on the bedroom’s loveseat; he had complained to her about sleeping on the floor; by the time he had gotten to complaining about trying to sleep upright, in the window-seat, Kathryn had ordered, yes ordered him to the bed with her. God only knew that she had paid dearly for that order during the night.

A night without sleep. Kathryn had been shocked to discover that this grown man, her Commander, a.k.a. Chakotay was an expert at playing tug-of-war . . . with the covers. She had comfortably started out with two, soft, down pillows; at the moment all she had left was one. And Kathryn wouldn’t have hesitated to have used that pillow to smack the sleep out of Chakotay if it weren’t for his heavy, muscular, male leg that was draped solidly across the lower half of her body.

She groaned, and she groaned loud as Chakotay took in yet another extended, hair-raising, teeth-grating, gurgling, male snore.

She was about to sigh inwardly when the door cracking open drew her attention. If it weren’t for Chakotay’s leg pinning her to the bed and preventing her from moving, she would have run for cover. Someone was coming into the bedroom. Surely not her mother? She’d never live it down; she’d have to go into counseling.

Phoebe’s head peaked around the corner.

Perhaps she was being overly dramatic.

Phoebe took one look at her older sister, in bed with the Commander, and waggled her eyebrows tellingly.

Kathryn was pretty sure drama was in the genes. Maybe all it would take was one glare and her sister would disappear. Maybe.

Phoebe made kissing sounds and Kathryn practically had heart failure when Chakotay stirred. Yes, it was official. In seven years, Phoebe had done less changing than Seven of Nine had. As quickly as Phoebe was there, she was gone.

“Who was that?” Chakotay asked with a sleepy, morning husky element to his voice.

“Phoebe,” Kathryn stated the name with staccato.

“Your sister?”

“Unfortunately.”

Chakotay yawned, “Does she know we’re married?”

“We’re not married, Chakotay,” Kathryn sighed. She hated technicalities and more importantly she hated when the finer details of things were glossed over. “I hate to be demanding in the morning—“

“Anything for you dear,” Chakotay teased.

Kathryn gave him a look. “Could you get off of me?”

Chakotay realized a moment to soon that his leg was covering most of Kathryn’s lower body. His heart dropped when he noted he had most of the pillows. And the covers.

“My apologies, Kathryn. I’m not used to sleeping with someone,” he stated and then felt a flush go up through his heart, past his neck, to fill the skin of his face in a red rush. That didn’t sound right.

“I certainly hope not,” Kathryn smirked as he removed his leg from her and she was able to sit up in bed. “Seven years – the idea of you sleeping with someone on my ship,” she laughed to herself.

Chakotay scratched his head. Sex happened. Unfortunately it never happened for him in seven years – especially not with –

The door cracked open again. This time both Chakotay and Kathryn turned to look.

“Come in, Phoebe . . . now that we’re both up . . .” Kathryn stated to the door.

Chakotay wondered if anyone was really there. Then a head popped around the corner. He rubbed at his eyes a moment and then took in the other woman who was before him. He had to say that Phoebe looked more like the mother of the family; she resembled Kathryn in some ways but he knew each woman was unique in their own way – family or not.

Phoebe bounded into the room and slammed the door behind her. Obviously she had spunk.

Chakotay noted that this other woman was looking at him – him. He decided to keep her gaze. They were locked – a will of passionate strength – who would break their gaze from the other first?

“Are you sleeping with my sister?” Phoebe asked.

Chakotay closed his eyes in agony.

Kathryn surprised herself by laughing and then no sooner had she taken a breath then she was locked in an embrace with her other half.

“Oh how I’ve missed you,” Kathryn murmured as she held her sister lovingly.

Phoebe sighed, “I don’t know; I had the full plate of caramel brownies for years.”

Kathryn pushed Phoebe away and watched as her sister laughed. She quieted down with a sigh and looked at the two Starfleet officers who were in the same bed; both out of uniform and definitely far away from regulation. She took in the moment – how they reacted so close to one another in the silence – Kathryn’s fingers twisted the sheet delicately around her pointer finger, again and again. That was odd for her so naturally composed sister. The Commander was looking anywhere but at Kathryn or herself.

Something was definitely up.

“You two aren’t married are you,” Phoebe stated carefully.

“How did you know?” Chakotay asked, a smile from pure relief flooding his face.

“Well, obviously she knows me well enough that –“ Kathryn started.

“You two haven’t had sex. Yet.” Phoebe stated.

Kathryn choked.

Chakotay grinned. “Yet.”

Phoebe grinned along with him. She liked this man her work-aholic sister had brought home.

“There is no ‘yet’!” Kathryn protested.

“Honey, have you thought about having children yet?” Gretchen Janeway asked after the bowl of scrambled eggs had made its way around the breakfast table.

“Mother, do you have to push them to be such a nuclear family?” Phoebe asked.

“Nuclear?” Gretchen raised her eyebrows.

Chakotay reached for the syrup and poured some on the fluffy pancakes in front of him. He was going to focus today; really focus to get him and Kathryn out of this family crisis.

“I have my career to focus on,” Kathryn jumped in. The last thing she wanted to do was combine family planning with history – past or present.

“What about you, Mr. Chakotay?” Mrs. Janeway persisted.

“Maybe in the future,” Chakotay stated as he kept pouring, and pouring, and pouring the syrup. He clattered to a stop when the sticky substance started to run over the edges of his plate.

Kathryn wanted coffee. The coffee pot was by her mother. She opened her mouth to ask for her to pass it but was cut off at the chase.

“Kathryn, I was thinking . . . . why don’t we hold a small ceremony in the house?”

Coffee. She really needed the coffee.

“Pass the powdered sugar,” Chakotay asked weakly.

“What ceremony?” Phoebe passed the powdered sugar and at the same time spoke up for her indisposed sister. She saw where Kathryn’s gaze was located. Right, smack, dab on the pot-o-joe.

“A renewal of vows,” Gretchen smiled softly and folded her hands in front of her.

Chakotay had little or no choice but to keep spooning the powdered sugar on relentlessly for fear his hands would clutch the table in a nervous gesture.

“It could be simple – I never was able to witness it –“ Gretchen continued.

“Could you pass –“ the coffee pot is what Kathryn was going to say.

“Pass on an opportunity such as this? Never. That’s why I’m asking – for me – for the family,” Gretchen stated eloquently her plea.

Coffee. Coffee first. Why couldn’t her mother remember that?

“Mom, maybe they need time to adjust?” Phoebe jumped in.

“Adjust to what?” her mother asked.

“All of this!” Phoebe stated. “Or haven’t you noticed they just got back to the planet about a week ago.”

“Could you –“ Kathryn tried again.

Chakotay searched for the butter. Pancakes supposedly, according to Neelix, weren’t complete without the butter. His eyes roamed across the table, across plates and bowls – everywhere except up where his supposed mother-in-law loomed at the head of the table. The head of his table.

“Could you not make it out to be such a big deal? Is that what you were going to say Kathryn?” Gretchen asked. Mother was getting riled.

Kathryn was going to ask if she could pass the coffee pot over to her. Over, over, over.

“I agree; you’re sister knows better,” her mother continued.

Kathryn watched sadly as Phoebe passed Chakotay the butter. How come his needs were so easily met. She watched as her mother sighed and picked up the coffee pot. The smell of the hot liquid burned through her soul, the sound of it hitting the bottom of her mother’s empty cup tortured what little reserves she had left and her hands gripped the edge of the table as she fell forward, face first into the grips of insanity.

Her mother had said something. Would she like a cup of coffee? Coffee?

“Yes,” Kathryn sighed.

“Then it’s settled!” Gretchen stated.

Phoebe’s fork clattered to her plate with a jarring amount of noise.

Kathryn jumped. Something happened.

“I’m sorry, what did you say mother?” Kathryn asked. Hadn’t she said – the coffee – coffee! Right?

“She asked if you’d renew your vows at home, Katie,” Phoebe stated, her face pale. “And you said yes.”

No. No, no, no. The Yes had been for the cup of coffee. The coffee! Did she want a cup of coffee? Or had her sleep-deprived mind asked that to herself and she had answered aloud; accidentally to her mother’s question. Oh damn. She chanced a glance at Chakotay. His fork was held limply in his hand, a piece of pancake was dangling precariously from its edges.

She had just made things more complicated. All because her mind was still set on coffee these days. Coffee first. The golden rule. And when she didn’t have it – look what happened.

“Now then dear,” Gretchen looked around, trying to distill the silence that had strangely enough settled upon their previously animated circle. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Kathryn, we can’t get married,” Chakotay pointed out as they walked through the fields that surrounded the house.

“I realize that Chakotay,” Kathryn stated. She had one hell of a headache. “We’ve been through worse situations –“

“This is pretty bad,” Chakotay said seriously. “It might be worth telling your mother the truth right now.”

Kathryn stopped walking and turned to him. It was the first time in a long time that her face held a desperate plea for him and only him, “I can’t.”

Chakotay took her hand and pulled her along. The continued their pace side-by-side. “What if we had someone handle the ceremony who wasn’t really – official.”

“You mean fake it?” Kathryn perked up.

“Yes,” Chakotay nodded. “Would your mother know?”

Kathryn pushed back a wisp of hair that had blown down across her forehead, “That’s my mother for you. She knows everyone in town.”

They were silent as they treaded on, through the tall stalks of wheat that were gently blowing in a fashion of golden waves. The air was humid but things had yet to stick; the wind kept their skin dry and the sun beat down with warm abandon on their heads.

“I happen to know a priest –“ Chakotay stated.

“You?” Kathryn asked with slight disbelief. Religion was an interesting thing in their day and age.

“Yes, his name is Father Tom,” Chakotay couldn’t help but bite the inside of his cheek he wanted to smile so much.

“Why do I have this gut feeling that if we invited,” she cleared her throat, “’Father Tom’ things would get worse before they got better?”

“Where’s your faith, Kathryn?” Chakotay asked as he tugged on her hand and they broke off into a run.

Part 2

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