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And all those evenings / out in the garden / with red, red wine / these quiet hours turning to years
Every time the wind blew through the thick trees in the yard, snow flitted off the branches like powdered sugar being sifted. She smiled as the snowflakes blanketed the yard. The snow was a new development, there had been no sign of it earlier in the day. A pleasant surprise considering how much time she spent the yard now - anything to be closer to her son. Granted his physical body was no longer on Nepenthe, but the tiny stone and bundle of wildflowers tied by Kestra still sat off in the distance, just past the tomato garden. The tall trees and carefully tailored bushes were her safe haven - one she put quite a bit of work into. For too long she had survived on fear and a desire to be alive. From the time she stepped foot onto the Enterprise up and through her wedding and children, it took everything she had to keep herself and her family safe.
It hurt, more than anything in her entire life, to watch her son disappear through her fingers like sand in a rapidly tipping hourglass. However, the constant agony of her grieving family is what had kept her undecided about their holiday plans. In her youth and well into middle age, Deanna had celebrated every winter holiday with a glee only reserved for someone brimming with jubilant empathy. But now, the smiles were half-hearted and the laughs nonexistent. The devious twinkle in her husband’s (and subsequently her daughter’s) eyes was simply extinguished. There was no life, no will to live on the Troi-Riker property, and that’s what frightened her the most.
It was hard to explain to humans how she processed emotions. Every thought, every memory was amplified to the point where they had an almost physical presence. Sometimes, she was tempted to reach out and touch the dark feelings that plagued her family. Emotions were ocean waves, ready to swallow anyone daring enough to wade into them. However, she was more than equipped to deal with any onslaught of feelings.
What she wasn’t prepared for, was the utter absence of feeling. Will would disappear from her radar at the strangest of times with a far-off look of wonder. She pondered if he was disassociating, though she knew better to ask. It was easier if he figured it out on his own - no one wanted to be told that they were spiraling. Her daughter, who was very aware of her mother’s capabilities, wore her emotions on her sleeve. What she felt and what she said were identical.
So, after a good day a few weeks back, Deanna made a decision.
They were going to have a Christmas gathering. It felt right, to reconnect with some of the friends they had shut out during their time of loss. Picard had dropped many heavy hints that he would like to see them more. So, family, friends, and those in-between were invited to a small, intimate gathering on Nepenthe. This is why Deanna was sitting quietly in her haven while the snow began to fall.
The breeze whistled once more and made her shiver. In a few hours, the guests would arrive and things would be busy. So, a little traipse around the property would fulfill the private time she generally took to be with her son. She stood from her favorite chair and began the small journey through the dense labyrinth of foliage. When she arrived at the spot, she bent down and curled a lip at how quickly her joints began to yell. The year had aged her more than anything on the Enterprise had. Her fingers brushed against the dirt of the garden until she found the tiny cement rectangle that bore her son’s name. She gently moved the sticks and sediment away from it and brushed her thumb over the name as if she was brushing his rosy-pink cheeks once again. Love poured forth from her body into the ground and gently melted the snow just around the plaque.
A scream of joy that sounded very much like her daughter pierced the air and severed the connection. The sky had darkened quite a bit since she had slipped out of the doors and into the garden. Now, she would spend the rest of this holiday with the people she cherished.
“Imzadi?” Will’s voice called to her from the house.
“I’m coming!” Deanna called back. She turned and blew a kiss to the melted spot in the clearing and began her trek back to the home.
“Kathryn!” Deanna said joyously when she opened the door. She gave the Admiral a quick scan and smiled as warmly as she could muster. The elusive Admiral had been the last to reply to invitation. As soon as the reply came, Deanna knew that the holiday would be even more magical than she had realized, so long as everyone who said they were coming showed up.
“Oh Deanna, it’s great to see you,” Janeway smiled and grabbed for her hands. “My condolences. It’s been a rough year for us all.”
“Oh yes, Gretchen. Such a loss, she was a joy.”
“It hurts a little less each day,” Janeway stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She held out a small parcel to Deanna with one hand and patted her shoulder with the other.
“What’s this?” Deanna asked as she rubbed the bag between her fingertips. The crushed velvet warmed her hands.
“Sunflower seeds. I noticed there are no sunflowers on Nepenthe. Quite a shame if you ask me.”
Deanna smiled at the simplicity of the gift and placed the small bag on the counter. “I appreciate it, Admiral. Come join the festivities, I believe everyone is almost here!’
The pair rounded the corner and Deanna felt her body fill with joy as Janeway took in the entire room. The conversation flowed between all the guests, but when the Admiral spoke, everyone turned to her.
“Jean-Luc! Will! I haven’t seen you both in years. And who's this little darling? You simply cannot be Kestra because the only Kestra I knew was two feet tall!” the girl smirked and bounded towards Janeway with arms open.
“Hello, Kathryn! It’s been far too long!” Picard reached out from his place in a plush recliner. Neatly wrapped presents were placed around his feet and a half-full glass of nog was next to him. She reached over, still attached to Kestra, and squeezed his shoulders gently. They felt smaller, less commanding since their last embrace, but he still carried around the air of leadership and spite. Soon after their embrace, she was scooped up by Riker and twirled around like a child. Kestra broke away and scooted away on her bottom, laughing joyously the whole time. Riker’s beard scratched at Janeway’s cheek as he sat down on a stool and pushed her down jokingly onto his knee. For a moment, she felt a pang in her heart at the realization that this would be the first holiday without both of her parents.
“So, what does Janeway want for Christmas?” Riker winked at her and let her go. As she stood, and turned around and whispered into his ear. A pink hue spread across his face as he shook his head and chuckled quietly.
“Don’t let Starfleet hear you say that! Of course, that might actually come true,” Riker smirked at her and grabbed for the drink next to him. He raised his glass and opened his mouth to say something when the doorbell rang. Deanna nodded to the room and disappeared around the corner.
“Aha!” Riker bellowed, “The rest of the party is here!”
“Who else is coming?” Janeway sat gingerly on the stool next to him and crossed her legs.
“Oh, someone you know...and someone you don’t.”
Janeway turned her head to ask Riker to elaborate when a familiar voice trickled in from the front of the home. The voice got louder until three bodies rounded the corner. Deanna, who was visibly on-edge, stepped into the large room and cleared her throat. When the talking ceased, she spoke.
“Everyone, this is Seven, who most of you know, and Elnor, who has traveled with Picard.”
Janeway inhaled and held the breath in her belly for a few seconds before releasing it slowly. It wasn’t that she was angry Seven had come. In fact, she was overjoyed. However, their last interaction had been awkward and painful for both of them. There was always a feeling of failure and regret lodged deep into her heart. She knew it was her fault that there was a gaping crevice in their relationship, but each time she set out to speak about it, life simply got in the way.
“Admiral Janeway, a pleasure to meet you,” Elnor knelt to one knee and looked up to her, “I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”
Janeway chuckled at that, “Of course you did. All good?”
“Well,” Elnor raised an eyebrow and laughed, “Of course! You’re Admiral Janeway, what else is there to tell?”
“I like you,” Janeway laughed and accepted the mug of nog offered to her. “You’ve traveled with Picard?”
“We both did!” Elnor motioned towards Seven, who looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there.
“So I see!” Janeway added politely. She looked to Seven and made the first move, a metaphorical olive branch. “It’s been a long while.”
“Too long?” Seven answered with a certain calm, that Janeway had never heard from her. This was no longer that vulnerable Borg on a quest for perfection. The woman in front of her looked experienced. Her body looked lived-in, instead of borrowed. Pride filled Janeway’s chest, that was all she wanted for Seven - to be human.
“Not at all,” Janeway stood and offered her stool to Seven, “Here, you sit. I’m going to chit chat with Deanna for a bit. But, I wish to speak with you too.”
“Acceptable,” Seven smirked, something else Janeway had never seen. “I’m joking. That sounds fine. Just find me.”
“I will do just that,” Janeway murmured as she placed a gentle hand on Seven’s shoulder. As she walked away, a familiar twinge of regret built in her belly. It wasn’t Seven’s presence that was affecting her, it was the pent-up guilt and frustration that had been compounding over the years. She heard the flaxen laugh of Seven behind her and knew that the evening would at least be interesting.
“I can sense something,” Deanna raised her head, almost like she was sniffing the air around Janeway. “It feels sticky, like regret, but also like the dense weight of the woods, is it defeat?”
“I still don’t understand why you can smell emotions,” Janeway avoided the question but eventually gave in. “I didn’t expect to see her today.”
“She didn’t expect you either. You should have seen her face when she heard your voice. I couldn’t read her very well - the Rangers go through training to fly under the radar - Betazoids included. “Must have spooked her a bit though - her face gave it all away. I don’t know what happened between you two, but there’s something there.”
Janeway sighed and set her glass of nog on the kitchen counter. She looked around the kitchen and briefly thought of her home in Bloomington. She missed the quaint feeling of a lived-in room. Instead, she took residence in a pre-furnished apartment three blocks from HQ in San Francisco.
“When Voyager landed, Starfleet made it very obvious that they were interested in Seven. They tried many times to get to her through me. I refused. They pressured me until I met up with her in Arizona. We spent a weekend in a cabin catching up and talking about what our plans were. She told me about her relationship problems with Chakotay. Did you know she left him at the altar?”
“I did not,” Deanna whispered.
“She left him because he told her he was in love with me. But, I was unobtainable. Do you know what she told him?”
Deanna shook her head.
“She told him that she loved me too.” Janeway picked up her glass and downed the rest of her drink. “I made a foolish decision and told her about Starfleet’s interest in her. I told her to leave. I hate myself for it.”
Deanna nodded slowly, taking it in.
“Have you spoken since?”
“No.”
“You didn’t seem that shocked to see her, Kathryn. Why?”
Janeway sighed and brought a hand up to her forehead, “We haven’t spoken, however, I have kept up with her. No one knows, I just wanted to make sure she stayed safe.”
Deanna smiled at the admission, “Normally I would chastise you, but I understand your intentions.”
“How old is Elnor?” Janeway motioned towards the living room. “He seems younger than Icheb.”
“Not sure,” Deanna sighed. “He’s special, Kathryn. Looking at him you don’t realize how lethal his skills are.”
“Romulan?”
“Survived the blast. Raised by the Qowat Milat.”
Janeway's eyebrows raised and her mouth turned up in a smirk.
“Lethal indeed. How did they meet?”
Deanna laughed and gently nudged Janeway back into the room.
“Sounds like a question for her!”
After gifts had been exchanged and many mugs of nog consumed, Picard was the first to depart. His excuse? That he was simply tired. It was strange to hear him admit such things - perhaps his second chance at life had changed him.
Kestra, who had run around the room handing out presents, was napping under the tree. Her cherubic face blotted with the lights that dangled above her. A precariously placed string of tinsel moved every time she exhaled.
Janeway sat on a rather large couch, feeling like she was being eaten alive by the oversized cushions. The homely atmosphere and the rum in her belly made the lights mix in a cozy sort of dreamlike way. These were the times she dreamed of when stuck in space.
Seven sat on the other side of the couch with her feet tucked under her. Janeway, unable to look elsewhere, made a valiant attempt to glace around the room. But, no matter where she looked and what part of her sweater she pulled at, her eyes always came back to Seven. She studied the book in Seven’s hands - a gift of poems about grief from Deanna that had nearly reduced the ex-Borg to tears. Janeway had watched the entire interaction with a little pang of jealousy. It seemed like the two women had bonded with each other - something an Admiral did not have time for. She had no friendships - only shipmates.
Nevermind that she hadn’t seen Seven for quite a while and she only saw Deanna once a year. Now that Gretchen had passed and Phoebe married the mayor’s daughter, Janeway found that she had more time on her hands than she liked to admit. Even though she prided herself on being wonderful in groups, she felt like a cadet trying to work herself back in with her old friends. Life had kept moving when her world had stopped.
“If you’re going to keep staring at me, at least attempt small talk.” Seven’s smoked applewood voice broke the tension in the room. Panic and a sprinkle of lust pounded from her brain to her toes. It was now or never.
“My apologies. I just don’t quite know where to start this conversation,” Janeway admitted as she lifted her hand and drummed her fingers against the soft texture of the couch. She wrapped her fingers at the end of a knitted blanket and unrolled them absentmindedly.
“I have thought almost every day and night about what I would say to you when I saw you next,” Seven whispered, gazing longingly at the tree. The bulbs flickered between a soft white and red which cast a peppermint shadow on the ex-drone’s face. To Janeway, she looked decadent - a holiday treat. How lucky was she, to see a sight like this?
With admirable restraint, she resisted the urge to scoot closer to Seven. Every impulse begged her to close the distance and take the formidable frame in her arms. However, that chance had been lost years prior.
“I have too. I don’t get very far in my dreams though,” Janeway broke eye contact and raised her gaze to the ceiling to avoid crying.
“You dream about me?” Seven turned and met her eyes. The sight alone rendered Janeway speechless. The best she could muster was a slow nod and a solemn shrug.
“I dream about you too.”
The admission hung heavy in the air, choking them with unbridled emotion. Slowly, a metal-tipped hand slid to the middle of the couch and stopped halfway. Janeway, whose heart was pounding at warp six, slid her hand out gently and stopped a mere inch from Seven’s.
Janeway looked up at Seven and smiled when she felt their hands touch. For a moment, Janeway was nervous - it had been years since she had been this intimate with someone.
“This is nice,” Janeway cursed herself for the ridiculous lack of vocabulary.
“It is,” Seven squeezed her hand and took a deep breath, “We have a lot to talk about.”
“I agree,” Janeway said.
“That being said, I would like to cherish this moment and have the complicated talk tomorrow, if that’s all right?”
“Yes, please,” Janeway whispered, completely enraptured by the sheer joy coursing through her.
“How did you do it?” Deanna asked, cursing herself when Seven was visibly startled. “How did you make it through the first Christmas without him?”
Seven’s head bobbed gently, as if she was handpicking her words. Her borg hand was gently scratching at a sleeping Janeway’s scalp. It made Deanna warm inside to see the pair so at-ease.
“I will admit, working through that grief was harder than anything I have ever done. There were moments when I thought that life itself was too painful to even endure. I have been assimilated - metal pushed into my skin. I have been tortured and beaten and none of that compared to the absolute agony I faced when Icheb died. I truly realized I had no one. I was alone.”
“I know I’m the counselor, but I’m having a lot of trouble this season. It’s not my first year without my son but I’m struggling. They lifted the ban and I can’t reconcile my anger. I apologize if this is too much - I don’t know anyone who knows just how deeply this hurts,” Deanna sat gently on the rocking chair next to Seven’s end of the couch.
“I apologize in advance, I’m not the best with emotions. Feelings are a part of my humanity that I have yet to master.”
“I’ll bet she could help,” Deanna motioned towards Janeway, who was fast asleep in Seven’s lap.
“Perhaps,” Seven began, “Though I think we would learn much from each other. I have a lot of pain to work through - same as her.”
“Understandably so.” Deanna agreed. She went to stand from the chair and stopped when Seven placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m not the best with words, however I do love to listen. If you wanted to talk about losing a child, I would comply. I think… it would benefit me as well.”
“I appreciate that, more than you know,” Deanna stood and gave Seven a meaningful look. “Are you staying here? Elnor is asleep on Kestra’s top bunk and Will said he would make pancakes for breakfast.”
“I hadn’t planned on it, but pancakes are enticing.” Seven smiled.
“You’re sure it’s the pancakes and not the hot Admiral in your lap?”
Seven winked at her. “Jealous?”
“Not at all, I have my own upstairs,” Deanna winked and turned the corner. She tiptoed up the stairs and slid into her room quietly. She listened for any sign of her husband’s breathing.
The cold sheets burned against her bare legs. A shiver cascaded through her but before she could fix the blankets around her, she was gently pulled backward by a pair of strong arms. Her back met the warm body of her husband and his beard tickled the back of her neck.
“Did you get to talk to Seven?” he whispered into her ear which made the hairs on her neck stand up.
“I did. But, she was tired and trying not to fawn over the woman in her lap,” Deanna reached behind her and ruffled his hair gently.
“It is hard to focus when there’s a pretty woman near you,” he joked and pressed his nose into the nape of her neck.
“Oh, you,” Deanna whispered. “Go to bed. You have a lot of pancakes to make tomorrow.”
Warm lips left a damp print right below her ear. “Merry Christmas Imzadi.”
“Merry Christmas.”