Stardate 53726.9
I flopped over onto my back, my breaths rapid and shallow. Sweat streamed down my face, forming rivulets that became cold as they squiggled down my neck. I couldn’t put it off any longer – it had to be said. “This isn’t working out, Kathryn.”
You pushed damp hair back from your face and sighed, licking lips still swollen from our sexual encounter. “No, it isn’t, is it?” Your voice was husky and cracked as you spoke. “We should have known better than to even have thought about doing this. It was a big mistake – what a disaster!”
I couldn’t look at you; I had to remain resolved in my determination. “Then you agree that it’s best to terminate the arrangement?”
Your words came in a muffled whisper – I could barely hear you. “Yes… yes. It’s time to redefine the parameters because…”
=^=
Stardate 48322.6
I read you that first moment we came face to face. Behind the Starfleet steel of your presence, I saw the fire within you. I knew immediately that you would be either a defiant adversary or a formidable alliance but that the choice was not mine to make. Without making the motions, we circled each other like a pair of wolves fighting for food and territory, daring the other to make a first strike. My anger thrashed to find an exit, pounding against my better judgment, wanting to overpower you with sheer physical dominance, to claim the alpha position.
Your small frame all but disappeared within the penumbra of my larger body, yet you exuded a force that left no doubt as to the size of your authority. All I could hope for was a clemency of necessity… a leniency that would keep my crew from facing the wrath of Starfleet ‘justice’.
Survival was the first priority – for all of us, Maquis and Starfleet alike. As much as either of us hated to admit it, we were going to have to call a truce to everything that had led up to this point, to put aside orders and missions and fundamental hostilities. None of the old rules mattered – we would have to create a new system… if we lived through this initial crisis.
Your actions and decisions about the Array – of saving one species but stranding our crews far from home – immediately told me that you were not an ordinary Starfleet captain but a complex and caring one… a woman with spirit and soul… one of courage and strength.
When you said you wanted me for your first officer, at first I was confused, thinking that this was a trap, one into which you would first find fault with me, then the rest of my Maquis crew. After all, we’d been duped already with Tuvok’s deceptive embedding among our ranks.
But your eyes told me differently. Your eyes have never held any secrets from me, you know. I saw it there, that there was no deceit, no falsehood there… that your request was honest, that you truly did want to make an alliance of our forces. With so much of an unknown ahead of us, our only strength was in coalition and cooperation. With that unspoken promise of your eyes, I pledged our allegiance to aid you – and Voyager – in one single mission: to survive and to return to the Alpha Quadrant.
The Array and my ship weren’t the only two things that exploded within those first days of our exile journey. I sensed something within each of us had exploded also, the reactions held in check only by our self-imposed force fields.
When you stated that you wanted me to be your first officer, I couldn’t but wonder if you had a hidden agenda, one in which you would silently but surely disassemble the Maquis, using me as your ‘Uncle Tom’. But your eyes told me otherwise and I trusted you.
=^=
During those first few weeks, there never seemed to be enough time in any one day. Immediate needs for survival and repairs to Voyager kept all of us focused on long days of physical labor. You dirtied your own hands, working side by side with Starfleet and Maquis alike. I swear I saw you everywhere on the ship, seeming to exist only on adrenalin, determination and coffee.
Then came the inevitable oil and water mixture of our two crews. Even with common goals, the underlying hostilities quickly surfaced, jeopardizing the infrastructure of the ship as surely as any hull breech fracture. Ripples of threats, innuendos of coercion ran rampant below the surface and I found myself spending valuable time attempting to quell the rising discontent among my former crew, as I’m sure you were doing with Voyager’s original crew.
On top of everything else, we knew that we had already made enemies of the various factions of the Kazon. Our only allies, the Ocampa, were bound to their fragile planet and we had only the promise of possible allies from the Talaxian, Neelix, and his Ocampan partner. How were we going to fend off unknown years of a hostile environment if we couldn’t forge a peaceful coexistence among our own personnel?
The anger I had once focused onto Starfleet still ate away at me… the bureaucratic and ineffectual ways they handled the atrocities perpetrated by the Cardassians seemed to be the way you were determined to proceed with our journey now. Yet I sensed that you, too, knew that our survival would have to be based on cunning and wit as well as rigid Starfleet protocols. Hadn’t you already violated a few of their directives by your interference into the balance of powers within the Delta Quadrant? And I knew it was my duty as your first officer to be your sounding board – and confidant – when decisions had to be made. Why not Tuvok? I often wondered. But then I answered my own question: Because with Tuvok, you would be bound to Starfleet inflexibility; with my being in that position, you could always blame me for swaying your choices.
=^=
The way was never easy in the Delta Quadrant but those first few weeks tested us as none of us had been tested before. There were tumultuous times outside the ship…
…and there was a storm cloud hovering inside the ship.
Without knowing when – or if – any friendly planet or species lay ahead for us, nerves began to rub raw. Sleep for any of us was erratic and with food supplies starting to dwindle, the early optimism began to tarnish and rust.
Constant dog fights with the Kazon further diminished morale.
Nor was either of us spared as spirits sagged and fragile relationships began to chip away. Your decisions became erratic and frequently not thought through; my comments sprang forth with more bitterness and hostility than I meant. We both threw up defenses that weren’t going to budge and those walls became harder and thicker with each new encounter. How were we going to expect our crew to stay intact and productive as we allowed our own relationship to disintegrate?
I knew that our free time was rare, but I suggested to you that an occasional vigorous round of hoverball of velocity would work off some of the tensions. I knew that the holodeck had all sorts of programs for exercise – I prescribed a schedule for the crew, set up tournaments, even offered prizes.
Tom, for all his infantile actions, even came up with that idiotic program of a French dive, but it seemed to work – crew tensions eased, people were sleeping better and morale was on the upswing.
All except for you. Oh, yes – you might have participated in the programs every once in awhile, but you never allowed yourself to relax into the spirit of the moment – you always had those captain’s pips on and rarely ever let yourself forget it.
However, one day at our daily senior staff meeting as you paced around the table trying to make a point, you lingered just a bit too long behind me. Your touch, initially meant for emphasis, softened, and for a split second, I sensed a totally new feeling coming from you, one that communicated a message for me alone. I knew it, and I knew that you knew it.
I knew that you couldn’t approach me with the idea – that would definitely be against Starfleet protocol. But there wasn’t anything, written or otherwise, that forbade me from proposing it to you.
The rest of the staff exited the meeting, hurrying to get to the problems waiting for them that day. I hesitated, lingering in the room until only you and I remained.
“There’s something else, Commander?” you asked, obviously anxious to move on with your own responsibilities.
I swallowed and quickly wiped my sweaty hands across the back of my uniform. “Uh, yes, Captain. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.” And if I do survive this suggestion, you’ll more than likely out me into the brig for the rest of the trip, I thought, my stomach heaving into my throat.
“Well?” you demanded as much as asked.
I looked around; the briefing room was far too impersonal for what I had to say. “Do you mind if we go to your ready room?” I asked.
I think you were beginning to sense that I wanted to talk of something of a personal nature. Hadn’t your earlier touch invited that? “As you wish,” you responded, your words suddenly staccato and icy as you led the way.
All eyes on the bridge followed us as we made the quick trip across to your office. I swear that Tom’s expression went from inquisitive to a big smirk and I glared back at him.
Once behind the closed doors of your inner sanctum, I led you over to the wide sofa by the window and we sat down.
Again I wiped my sweaty palms. Drops of sweat under my uniform felt like icicles dripping down my back. Nervousness dried my throat and I could feel the words sticking in my throat, refusing to make it to my lips.
“Commander?” you nudged. “You look as if the universe is collapsing in on us.”
I licked my lips. “Maybe it is,” I answered, the words cracking. Now… do it now – you’ve gotten this far, I thought… and then the words came tumbling out. “A few minutes ago, when you touched me, there was something in it and it got me thinking.”
A shocked look on your face told me that you had been found out but I pressed on. “Psychologically, it’s a known fact that humans react beneficially to touch; in fact, it’s been proven that a lack of touch from others is detrimental to emotional health.”
You withdrew slightly as your defenses went up. “Your point?” you asked dispassionately.
“In our positions, it’s forbidden to touch fellow crew members, although I know both of us do it in the course of conversation or in trying to get an idea across. My point is this – I think if we lowered those standards… those barriers… just a bit with each other, our personal morale would be better with the rest of the crew. Just… just allowing each other to give ourselves encouraging hugs, that sort of thing.”
You froze and said nothing but I could tell that you were processing the idea. Suddenly your lips curled into a smirk and then you smiled. “Sort of like letting the children know that all is well with Mom and Dad, hmm?”
“Right,” I grinned back.
You sank back into the sofa, still giving the suggestion consideration. “I’ll think about it,” you smiled back.
But I knew you had made your decision and mentally noted that starting with at least three hugs a day would be a good goal.
So it was no surprise the following morning when you came up to me before we even sat down at our consoles and voiced your decision. As you pretended to straighten my comm badge, you whispered with a smile. “And, when we’re in private, Commander, let’s drop the ranks – please call me ‘Kathryn’.”
“That’s going to take a little while,” I smiled back.
=^=
The change in both our attitudes was almost immediate. I felt in tune with myself for the first time in weeks and your face and body seemed more relaxed. The attitude of the crew improved, too – whether it was a change in them, in reaction to the changes in us, or just our perception of their demeanors, the ebb and flow of the ship settled down into a comfortable routine. Personnel problems backed off to only a couple per day and even the Kazon seemed to have found someone else to use as target practice. I could have sworn I saw Tuvok even almost smile. Addressing you by your given name became as normal as reviewing the duty roster. You never even batted an eyelash when I occasionally would slip and call you by name on the bridge. I soon forgot to keep track of how many hugs we exchanged each day – it was second nature whenever we were together –
happy...
sad...
or frustrated… all deserved hugs, no matter where we were.
=^=
Days and weeks became months, then one... two years. Our journey zigzagged through the quadrant, ever focused on getting back to our home sector. Possibilities abounded, tempting and almost tangible: wormholes, spatial projectors, contact with other exiles from the Alpha Quadrant – even contact with omniscient beings! Yet all turned out to be nothing but pipe dreams for us, their teasing promises nothing more than mirages in the dark matter of space.
Our lives came to depend daily battles – replenishment of food and energy supplies…
constant skirmishes with the Kazon and other unfriendlies…
…the stifling confinement of being on a ship for months on end, even with the diversion of holodeck programs and Neelix’s frequent attempts to provide escapist entertainments.
We soon found that even our ‘hug breaks’ weren’t doing what they should, nor were we complying with the guidelines we’d set up. My meditation times also became less and less frequent and the discipline that had steadied my life was failing. Our conversations were brief and strident as our minds hurried on to other problems and needs, our words becoming terse and perfunctory. We had become wrapped up in our own little worlds again, forgetting our promise to be there for one another.
After one particularly scathing confrontation, during which we accused one another for the petty annoyances around us, you turned to me and asked what had happened between us… why minor problems seemed to be driving a wedge between us. As I peered over your shoulder at a monitor screen in front of us, you stared at me, you eyes filled with weariness. I suddenly realized that it had been days since we had shared a hug, since either of us offered some sort of comforting touch.
Your shoulder dug into my chest and it was then I realized that the casual embraces had lost their magic… that my body – and yours – reached out for something more, something that would allow us to release the pent up frustrations, actions to go beyond words. I turned you around, wanting to make sure that you shared the need.
There was no need to ask – I saw it. And without words, we knew what the next step would be. I leaned down, you reached up – and our lips met.
All was said in one kiss and we knew where it was leading – to another plateau in our physical outlets, one intimate but therapeutic.
“Kathryn,” I murmured into you ear, wondering if I dared speak the words.
“Yes, I know,” you responded. “But – no strings attached.”
“I understand,” I managed. I really did understand… didn’t I?
=^=
But we didn’t rush into acting on our decision right away. There was relief – and release – enough in knowing that we had given ourselves permission to pursue furthering a physical intimacy that would ease the tension. The crew accepted our hugs and public embraces as actions between good friends, which we were. They thought nothing seeing us in this way.
There were celebrations…
dinners…
and we even dared a few semi-private moments in semi-public places…
Then the inevitable happened, events hinted at with menacing foreboding finally came to fruition – our encounter with the Borg and Species 8472. The planning and preparation took every bit of strength and courage we could muster, and all the while, we knew we must do as examples to the crew. Little did I know that you and I would turn out to be at odds with each other as much as we were with our alien foes.
Never had we been at such opposite poles than we were on how to proceed with the Borg. I saw a side to you that I never imagined to exist – raw, impulsive, almost suicidal. You survived, but barely…
and I wondered if our relationship would survive, so vehement were you about my having disobeyed your orders.
Promises made became promises broken. Any connections or shared moments were lost in the unwritten logs of our lives. Duties overwhelmed us and once more we lost ourselves within those demands, becoming as robot-like as our newest crew member.
However, one night about a month after our horrific encounter with the Borg and Species 8472, you found me in solitude in the mess hall. I looked up as you slowly made your way towards me.
“We need to talk,” you said softly, although no words were needed – your body, your stance, your demeanor told me everything.
You said nothing more, but took my hand and led me out of the area. I tried to discern some message through your touch, but nothing came. All I could do was follow.
Suddenly you turned, your eyes bright with emotion. “I’m sorry, Chakotay,” you whispered. “I... we can’t go on like this – we need each other.” You strained closer, your words and breath mingling into my ear. “I need you!”
Your emphasis said it all and I knew what was to follow.
The turbolift was always fast but the one-floor trip from the messhall to your quarters was almost instantaneous. Our silence spoke volumes but we knew how the script read.
We barely made inside the door when the primal need took over. Our lips found each other as sure as any heat-seeking photon; our arms closed the space between us. No wasted energy, we knew what we needed… and wanted.
Did either of us know how we got to the bedroom so quickly? Did we remember anything at all or did our hungry need consume all other emotions? You changed from your uniform, although I don’t know why you bothered.
Clothes became superfluous, superficial, as we hurriedly freed ourselves from anything that kept us from knowing the feel of all-over touch, from sharing every taste, every motion, every thrill with each other.
Any fear or trepidation of what we were doing disappeared as our overwhelming need for emotional release led us into another area of uncharted territory but we quickly realized that we had found a safe harbor.
“No regrets?” I asked you.
“None,” you responded softly, your voice low and sultry.
We lay quietly as our bodies acclimated to a quieter plateau. “No strings?” you queried.
“No strings,” I promised.
We drifted off into a sated sleep, cleansed and purged of whatever demons had been haunting us.
=^=
Ah, yes – nothing like a good physical workout to wipe away the worries and concerns of work! I think each of us began to look forward to being inundated with stress just because we knew how to relieve it now.
Whether it was unknown anomalies…
ominous nebulae…
invading aliens…
or obstinate crew members…
… we always knew that we had found a perfect release for the irritations that constantly threatened our well-being and sanity.
Oh, there were many times during our work shifts when we allowed ourselves some times of being less formal and rigid. There were those lighter times that brought laughter…
and private jokes…
and there were times of casual and candid concern…
… or urgent and desperate fear.
But nothing was as therapeutic or healing like those private sessions, when all that mattered was being able to pull away the facades of rank and structure and lose ourselves in the heat of physical release. No words were needed to communicate the need – all it took was a look…
… and the message was received, loud and clear – forget communicators or padds or universal translators!
Neither were words necessary in our actions. Each of us knew what was needed… wanted… and little time was lost on preliminaries. After all, this was only a physical release, not a soul-baring time of confession or a pledge of eternal love.
So our times together were fast and furious: a few hungry kisses…
… with frantic disrobings…
..followed by a frenzied round or two of mind-numbing, body-punishing sex – nothing more, nothing less.
One hour at the most and it was over – we each had gotten what we wanted.
We parted without any words, without any tender after-play... just an old fashioned ‘slam, bam, thank you ma’am’ gut need, sated for the moment, hardening us and allowing us to withstand the grinding tedium of life on Voyager.
=^=
When did it all change? When did we slip over the line? I can’t think of a definitive moment, but there must have been something. Perhaps it was just the longevity of it all, the constant togetherness.
Perhaps it was those casual moments, times when we slipped into an all-too-easy comfort, like a pair of old slippers…
mesmerized by hypnotic firelight…
Or maybe it’s when the fire itself blazed within us, threatening to consume us with its scorching intensity.
Perhaps it came after our horrendous experience with the memorial obelisk on Tarakis, when you and I had yet another glaring difference in opinion regarding what action we should take with the engram program that affected us all so strongly. For once, it was I who wanted to break the Prime Directive, pushing to destroy the memory-implanting device that almost destroyed our crew; but you wanted it to remain, along with a warning probe to anyone approaching the planet.
But the memories of the atrocities would not leave those of us who had experienced them. They ate away at us as surely as any gangrenous lesion, leaving emotions raw and ugly. Wanting to free ourselves of the trauma, even momentarily, we sought solace and comfort with each other.
From the bridge…
to your ready room…
we sensed our common need, the ‘solution’ to all our problems.
But was it a solution… or merely a primal need? Was it a means to an end, a quick fix to a deeper sorrow? Whatever it was – need, desire, comfort – the feelings surged and sparked like arcs between electrodes and we quickly found ourselves in your quarters.
It was as if we needed to regenerate the spirit lost on that planet, to replenish lost hope and optimism. Every taste, every touch was a necessary step to remind us that we were indeed real… whole and healthy and alive.
When our bodies told us that we could do nothing more, we laid back in the pale glow of stars as they rushed by, knowing that we would never be the same.
We both dozed off. I had fully intended on slipping out and back down to my quarters, as I always had done before, with no one the wiser as to how Voyager’s captain and first officer had spent a couple of hours during the lull of gamma shift. But our exhaustion was total, the cathartic couplings soporific and I awoke with a start realizing that it was morning… that each of us was due on duty in less than an hour!
I looked at your slumbering form, cradled in my arm, your countenance soft and peaceful, relaxed as I had not seen you in months… no, years.
We hurriedly showered and dressed and left your quarters together, oblivious to the fact that someone might see this and readily interpret what had happened. But fate was with us and the halls were mercifully free of other crew members.
Even the turbolift was empty when we got on it, and you quickly kissed me on the short trip to the bridge.
The kiss was sweet and brief, but there was something in it that told me something else.
Something had changed but I couldn’t tell how… or why.
=^=
Of course the day began on the run, with each of us needed in six different directions at twelve different times. For a few brief moments, we sat at our posts on the bridge and you leaned over to me. I reached over to you and you nervously played with my fingers. “We need to talk,” you finally managed, your eyes barely meeting mine.
“I know,” I responded lowly. “But when?”
“It’s probably going to have to be tonight.”
I hesitated, thinking that talk might be secondary, if it was ‘business as usual’. I wove my fingers through yours, allowing your heat to warm my suddenly cold hands. We weren’t all that good with talk… well, the kind of talk I knew this was going to be. “How about 2100? Where do you want to meet?”
“Could we make it your quarters?” you smiled enigmatically. “I’ll bring some wine.”
I nodded weakly. Wine would numb the pain.
=^=
I gave myself time to meditate before you came, trying to quell the rising tide of fear inside me. By breaking the rules the night before, I knew that I’d broken the prime directive of our relationship. By waking up beside you, having been there the entire night, I had stepped over that undrawn line of intimacy.
But even the familiar ritual of focusing my inner thoughts failed me and when you arrived, I went into an immediate offensive, trying to prolong the inevitable.
I opened the door and you just stood there, not speaking a word. Was it passion or pity that lay behind the enigma of your eyes? I couldn’t tell – all I wanted to do was to delve into them and find what you wanted.
My frustration surfaced as I touched you, my grasp more harsh than I had meant it to be. You flinched as my question hit you just as brusquely. “Kathryn, just what do you want?”
“Right now, I want you,” you answered, your voice barely audible, your hands reaching for mine and guiding them along the curves of your body. I could feel your inner heat rising from underneath the several layers of your uniform.
I tried to peel your hands away but found myself drawn further into you, enmeshed by the entanglement of your being. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean… we really do need to uh… talk.”
“Shhhh…” you whispered. “We will.”
All was lost as we said nothing more, greedy for the passion to which we both were hopelessly addicted.
=^=
Stardate 53726.9
Your words came in a muffled whisper – I could barely hear you. “Yes… yes. It’s time to redefine the parameters because… I love you. I hadn’t meant for this to happen, but it did and there it is – plain and simple.”
There. It had been said – the emotional breech that began as a small ripple in our lives had grown to the point that it would either pull us apart as irreparably as temporal rift or bring us crashing into the depths of a black hole.
The bomb had been dropped, but it certainly wasn’t what I had expected. Disbelief washed over my face, as I attempted to assimilate what you had said.
“What? What did you say?” I finally uttered from my shocked state.
You nestled into my stupefied body. “I said… I love you… and I probably have for longer than either of us can remember.”
I slowly ran shaking fingers along the contours of your face, as if trying to memorize every curve and hollow, everything about you suddenly seeming new. “I know we said that there would be no demands, no complications with this arrangement. But I, too, lost that feeling long ago. Kathryn Janeway, I love you. No rules, no strings, no more … my commitment to you is total – I can’t separate the need from the desire. If you want my body, you are going to have to take my heart and soul as well.”
“Oh, I think I can manage that,” you smiled back.
=^=
Each of us knew that our duty shift the following day would be a difficult one. When you have worked, eaten, played, laughed, argued and fought alongside the same people twenty-four hours a day, three-hundred and sixty five days a year, for almost six years, they could read you like a book – very few secrets went hidden on Voyager. While we had managed to keep our frequent trysts quiet for a long time, now that we had confessed our love for each other, we knew that it would be evident to every member of the crew.
“We’re going to have to tell them,” I said just before we left to assume our places on the bridge.
“Maybe we could just let everything evolve naturally,” you smiled at me. “I’m sure it isn’t as if no one has ever suspected.”
“You mean you want to keep Tom’s betting pool going a little bit longer?” I asked.
“Shhh – that’s my plan,” you smirked back. “I think I have a pretty good chance at winning!”
I shook my head. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you intended this all along.”
“You think?” you grinned back at me.
The doors opened and we entered the bridge. As we made our way to our conn seats, you turned and kissed me, just as naturally as if we did this every morning as we came on the bridge. As we pulled away to continue, I saw Tuvok out of the corner of my eye. I swear that his jaw had dropped to his monitor.
A sudden silence among the morning chatter on the bridge alerted us to the fact that others had taken notice of our actions and were attempting to decipher the meaning of what had just happened: B’Elanna’s face showed a hint of displeasure at our having displayed our affection so publicly when she and Tom had been chastised for doing the same thing; Harry looked on as if wondering if ‘parents’ really did that sort of thing… and I could tell that Tom already knew who had won his long-running pool.
It was Tuvok who finally spoke. “Captain… Commander… do I detect some change in your personal relationship?”
“You might say that,” I answered, realizing that I should have deferred any announcement to you.
Your look switched from me to Tuvok, your eyes telling each of us you should have been the first one to speak.
But you couldn’t keep a stern demeanor for more than a few seconds – neither of us could. Taking my hand, you turned and announced to the bridge that indeed we were more than captain and first officer… that we were very much in love and wanted to share our happy news with the entire ship.
Whoops of celebration rang out all around us, as well as overheard murmurs of ‘Well, it’s about time’… ‘Could have told you that three years ago’… ‘You mean they didn’t know this already?’
You were right… again. There could never be any secrets on Voyager.
Of course, Neelix had to have a party for us. “If ever there was a reason to celebrate, this is it!” he bubbled effervescently. Within hours, he had prepared a festivity that, for anyone else, would have taken weeks to plan and carry out. Tom good-naturedly offered the first of many toasts that rang out that happy evening.
=^=
Our love carried us through all the ups and down of our days and we were no longer limited to our clandestine ‘stress release’ sessions.
No longer did we have to hide tender moments of love and concern; we could be playfully serious…
… or seriously playful.
But above all, we found unbridled joy in just being able to be together.
Private time became more relaxed, as we could share our time openly now, not having to worry about the crew ‘discovering’ our secret lives. Oh, there may have been a few juvenile innuendo and snickers, but we laughed right along with them.
We allowed ourselves more time away from rank and duty, learning to revel in the quiet pleasures of being a man and a woman…
… of being able to luxuriate in a bit of romance, so long denied us.
Sometimes just being together, saying nothing, spoke all those words that had gone unsaid for years.
We still shared the passionate needs of our earlier ‘no strings’ moments, but there was no longer the desperation, the almost punishing need to use each other's body as a physical outlet.
We made the time to awake together, drawing on each other’s strength for the day ahead.
We laughed together, letting childish mischievousness come out to play, revealing to each other's new delights every day.
But most of all, we learned how foolish and stubborn we had been to have lost so much time together, time when we could have shared the very essence of our souls and spirits.
Rituals so much taken for granted by long-term partners now molded our lives, making them so much richer and meaningful.
I cannot even begin to think of going back to not having having you so much a part of my life... so much a part of me.
=^=
And so it has come to pass. Although we may still be decades away from the Alpha Quadrant and have unknown events, good and bad, ahead of us, we have our own world, our own freedoms, where we can love together…
serve together…
and can look forward to that day when we can share that greatest joy with the crew we have learned to love together...
of our being... HOME..
FINIS
