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O the sun of the world will ascend, dazzling, and take his height –
and you too, O my Ideal, will surely ascend!
-O Sun of Real Peace, Walt Whitman
It had been a long day. Kathryn wasn’t even sure what day it was. Or what time. It wasn’t even quite day anymore, but not completely dark yet either.
Dusk, she reminded herself. Earth had dusk. And dawn. Starships didn’t; it was either an attempt at daylight or the dimmer lights of night. But now, on Earth, she got to see dusk again. Alone.
It had been a while since she’d really had time to herself. From the moment Voyager reached McKinley Station, she had been surrounded by people. Sometimes by choice, like the reunion with her mother and sister or checking on B’Elanna and Tom with their newborn. But most of her time was spent overwhelmed with admirals and scientists and politicians. She hadn’t even had time alone to pack up her ready room and quarters. The essentials had been sent down to her temporary housing and the rest would be transported as soon as she had a permanent residence, storage, or they started Voyager’s remodel. Whichever came first.
But now, she sat alone outside Starfleet Headquarters, a cold bench her only close companion. Tuvok had been excused from briefings and allowed to return to Vulcan as soon as it could be arranged. Tom and B’Elanna were excused from the last few briefings for their daughter. It had left Kathryn with Seven, Harry, and Chakotay, and they had left the building as quickly as they could once free. But the thought of rushing home to silent, empty rooms that weren’t even her own didn’t sound appealing, so she had lingered and found her bench.
Logically, she knew she wasn’t really alone. A number of Starfleet personnel made their way between the transporter pads and the entrance. Some wandered around. But none came anywhere close to Kathryn and left her with her sense of isolation.
She sighed, her shoulders slumping as the air found its way out of her lungs. She forced herself to hold it and then slowly pulled fresh air back in, feeling her lungs expand and the threatening ache in her head start to recede. It didn’t leave completely and she let out a softer sigh at the realization.
Her peripheral vision caught movement closer than she expected, but she ignored it at first, choosing instead to focus on a pebble by her foot. She nudged it and it skittered off into the nearby grass, forcing her to raise her eyes a bit to follow it. The new angle reminded her of the movement and she realized it was coming even closer. She saw the black boots and pants of a uniform, then the red of command immediately followed by Chakotay’s exhausted face.
We’re home, she thought, why hasn’t he relaxed?
“Because you haven’t.” His voice completely shattered her thoughts and she narrowed her eyes. He stopped a few steps away from her, arms idly hanging by his side.
“You read my thoughts,” she forced herself to murmur.
He shrugged. “I know you. Your eyes tell me that I interrupted you. I’m sorry.” His voice was sincere and she felt her brow start to relax.
“I think I needed to be interrupted,” she admitted.
He hesitated a moment and then gestured to the open spot on the bench beside her, his question written on his face. Something told her she could’ve asked him absolutely anything and he would answer honestly. She wasn’t sure what to do with that knowledge and instead just nodded her agreement. They sat in silence for a few moments, but he spoke just as she was starting to retreat into her thoughts again.
“You did it, Kathryn.”
“Did what?”
His laugh surprised her, short and soft, but warm and familiar too. “You got us home. You got the Maquis cleared of all charges, Icheb can take his Starfleet Academy entrance exams, and Seven isn’t Starfleet’s science experiment. You did everything you set out to do.”
“We’re free.”
He shifted to face her, all-too-familiar concern settling into his lined face. “I thought you’d be more relieved than that. Happier.”
“I am.” Her voice grew softer and she dropped her gaze to her lap, fingers twisting together and pale against the black. “It doesn’t feel real,” she finally said after a moment’s pause. “I keep waiting for someone to slip up and we realize it’s a holoprogram or alien influence, even a dream.” She kicked her leg, causing her boot to scuff the concrete. “It feels real, but it’s felt real before.”
He started to move and then stopped, froze, and went too still beside her.
“Chakotay?” She looked at him, not expecting the intense thoughtfulness that she found in his expression.
He met her eyes and held them for a moment before he started to move again. His arm slowly stretched out, following the back of the bench until his hand reached her opposite shoulder. He leaned into her without breaking their eye contact and she didn’t move away.
“What would Seven think if she saw us?” Kathryn forced the words out while trying to keep her expression blank, to hide anything she was feeling now.
“Relieved, happy even.” He started moving his head closer and she still didn’t move.
“Happy?” She asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“She felt bad not wanting to continue our relationship once we got here. She encouraged me to talk to you.” The corner of his mouth lifted up at the irony.
“You and Seven aren’t… it’s not…” She couldn’t form a full thought, especially not with him this close. His cologne lingered despite the long hours they’d spent in briefings and meetings.
“I waited.” His voice was soft too.
“You waited,” she repeated. “For me?”
He laughed again, still quiet, and then softly pressed his lips to hers. She gasped, her lips parting at the sound. His free hand came up to cup her cheek and she finally leaned into him until their foreheads were pressed together.
“And this is real?”
“I don’t think anything fake would go that in depth.” He glanced toward the nearby building and then returned his eyes to her.
“I don’t think we’d feel this worn down either.” She bit her lip, but her expression gave her away before she even fully realized her decision.
“What do you say?” He murmured, their faces still close. “Give us a try?”
“God, yes,” she breathed out, and then she kissed him.
One hand tangled in his uniform over his chest and the other fell to his thigh for balance. She gave herself to him like she had been wanting to for nearly seven years and he took her in, finally supporting her utterly and completely. They only broke when they needed air, panting softly and still clinging to each other.
“People are watching,” he mumbled and she couldn’t bring herself to care.
“For the first time in seven years,” she whispered, her voice giving him a glimpse into how much she meant her words, “I don’t have to worry.”
He didn’t bother reminding her that she shouldn’t have worried before. It didn’t matter anymore. “Then lets get dinner. I know you haven’t eaten since we’ve been here today and I’d be willing to bet you only had coffee this morning.”
“I had a slice of toast with my coffee.”
“Oh, the world is ending. Kathryn Janeway ate.” He reluctantly pulled back and helped her up, his arm immediately sliding around her waist. She leaned into him and he kissed her when she looked up. “A real date.”
“A real date,” she agreed, a smile settling onto her lips.
She didn’t even glance at the officers milling around, all pretending like they weren’t watching while still keeping an eye on them. All of her attention was on Chakotay and all of his on her as he guided her to the nearest transporter. She followed willingly, surprised by the peacefulness she felt. She felt like herself for the first time in a while and the thought made her hold Chakotay even closer.
“I love you.” She said her realization aloud.
Chakotay took it in stride, his arm tightening around her only to release her as they reached the transporter pad. “I love you too, Kathryn.”