Chapter Text
For all that has been — Thanks. For all that shall be — Yes.
“Marie, why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?” Kathryn moves away from me on the sofa, to glare at me more easily. I’m feeling a bit under the weather, still, from celebrating, lack of sleep, and frankly, summer in Indiana, and her being upset with me is something I can’t quite stomach at the moment.
I run a hand across my face, dislodging my glasses. After two days of contact lenses and weird sleeping hours, my eyes need them, though. “I got a party, didn’t I? And such a party, too.” My conspiratorial grin goes out to Ellie in the easy chair, who slightly averts her head as if begging me to keep her out of this. But it’s been she who revealed this, after all, giving me her present, two tickets for the New York Philharmonics, who, apparently, are still going strong. “And this way, you’ll never miss my birthday ever again, nor our anniversary; that’s good, isn’t it?”
Obviously not. Kathryn continues to glare at me. “You realize I don’t have any present to-”
“Oh stop it at once, Kathryn.” I’m rarely this forceful, and it does indeed stop her. “You…” I pause, swallowing a few words, then flip up my hands. “Kathryn, you married me – nothing, nothing can ever top that.” I grin. “So, no pressure for next year.”
She throws her hands in the air, too, and I know what she’ll say the moment she opens her mouth. “Marie, you’re impossible.”
“Yup,” I agree lazily, leaning back onto the sofa. “And I’m telling you now: I won’t go without a party of my own then. I’ll be four hundred, after all.”
Kathryn never loses her glare, only huffs at my attempt to make a joke of it. Slouched as I am, my eyes droop close – I’m tired even now, two days after the event. Marrying Kathryn has been, plain and simple, the happiest moment of my life, but a wedding is incredibly tough going, something I’ve never really appreciated until now. And it wasn’t only our wedding, it was the ‘Finally it’s all resolved’ party, too. So Kathryn and I had danced, of course. After deciding who’d lead – of course (in the end, we switched). And yes, I’d danced with Jean-Luc again. We’d chatted and mingled and spent as much time with each guest as we could, and still I feel I haven’t done them all justice. We’d eaten far, far too much stuff, even if it had been delicious stuff. We’d posed for pictures, and not even reluctantly. Kathryn had worn a brilliant, slightly dazed smile all day long, and my own probably hadn’t differed much. I’ve yet to see the pictures, though, and the video – Ellie, Tom, the Doctor and Naomi (of all people) had had cameras glued to their faces for most of the time.
I think we were at single-digit figures on the clock when the last guests left, with the promise, of a select few, to come over again for brunch a few hours later. Well, when I say a few – neither the kitchen nor the sitting room had been able to hold us, and so the afternoon had found us on the lawn again, all thirty-something of us. God, but I had been too tired to socialize much, ashamed though it makes me. I don’t think I’d gotten more than two hours of sleep – my wedding night, after all; I’d been determined. But it had taken its toll – at five p.m., I’d started yawning. At six, I’d been fast asleep, and I still can’t believe that people left without waking me, that Kathryn, or Gretchen, or Ellie, anyone, really, let them leave without waking me. I’d slept away the rest of the evening and a lot of this morning, too – it’s almost noon, for heaven’s sake.
“So what are you going to do now?” Ellie gamely tries to get the conversation into safer waters when the silence draws out. Then she grins widely, “honeymooning?”
Success, I should say. I could get used to the way Kathryn smiles, I really could. “Marie, remember when I told you about taking leave for a few days?”
“How could I forget?”
She holds up two fingers and wriggles them.
“Don’t tell me you only managed to get two days of leave, love.” My mood drops, as do the corners of my mouth.
“Weeks,” she tells me, smile flaring, and I, tired as I am, find energy to squeal and hug her.
“Mars?”
She nods. “And I’ll fly you to the moon, too.” I beam at her.
“You’re incredible, you two,” Ellie tells us dryly. “Two days, and you’re still drunk on each other.”
“I guess we are, at that,” I agree lightly, and look back at my wife in time to see her face turn regretful.
“I’ll be off to oversee Voyager’s refit after that, though,” Kathryn sighs. “And I’ve told Marie just a few days ago that I can’t commute to and from Mars every day. It’ll take at least three months, and that’s their estimate – I think we’ll pop some corks when we finish before the year is over.” Her head falls forwards into cupped hands, and I tug at her sleeve until she leans into me. “And the trip itself is one hell of a schedule,” she goes on, eyes closed. “We’ll return to Earth after each visit, to exchange data and experts, and then set out again. I’ll be gone a week, ten days or twenty, with a maximum of three days’ layover at HQ. They really have us hopping.”
“Who will you take with you as crew?” I ask her, smoothing my fingers through her hair.
“They wouldn’t let me sign Chakotay as first officer,” oh, how she purses her lips. “Very close-mouthed about it, too. They told me, though, that Commander Troi has volunteered for the job, which sounds quite workable. She has her bridge officer’s credits, after all, and served alongside Picard on almost every diplomatic encounter the Enterprise had.” And she’s my wife’s counselor, and still needed as such, I think to myself while Kathryn sighs, deeply. “I’m not quite sure what to do about the commander’s family, though – her wife could come, seeing as she’s a doctor, but I don’t know what our Doctor will say to that, assuming he wants to come.
“And it would mean either separating their kids from both their mothers, or pushing Nechayev to allow families on board, and I don’t know if we have the space, even if we won’t have a full crew complement aboard. It’s a goodwill mission, after all,” Kathryn’s left hand comes up, expressing vague displeasure, just as her voice does, “not much science, and even less battles, hopefully. Negotiation and diplomacy instead. So we certainly don’t need as many crewmembers, and they could bring families. On the other hand, we’ll have to accommodate for guest quarters for mission experts and the dignitaries we’ll be bringing with us. Giving the go-ahead for family quarters would mean even more internal re-fits, but it would also allow Tom and B’Elanna to resume their respective posts.”
“You want to keep as much of your family around you as possible, right?” I wink at her.
She sighs again. “I can’t have Tuvok, I can’t have Harry.” True. Tuvok’s on his way back to Vulcan to teach, Harry’s on his way to command track fame, already full lieutenant and boldly going for his third pip, from what I hear. “And since they won’t let me have Chakotay,” she goes on across my musings, “I certainly won’t push for Seven and separate them. But on a mission like this, with so much diplomatic dancing and walking on eggshells… I need experienced hands, officers I can trust. So yes, I’ve sent out the call to the old crew, and a few have already said yes. Lessing and Gilmore among them,” she twists her head around to look at me, and I nod, eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise.
“Both Tom’s and B’Elanna’s decision hinges on the family issue, though,” Kathryn goes on. “And I can’t green-light bringing kids for only a select few of them, either, can I?” She rubs her forehead with one hand and hides a yawn behind the other. “As it is, I’ve only got about two thirds of the crew manifest, which is simply not enough, even if we do have some time. I still need around forty, forty-five more officers…” for the third time, she sighs.
“Commander Troi could probably recommend a few people of her own, couldn’t she?” I muse. “From what I’ve heard, people on the Enterprise gain experience quite quickly.” Smoothing her frown away with my thumb, my wedding ring catches my eye – people will notice, won’t they? That she’s wearing one? Maybe they’ll even notice that the one on my hands is its twin. Or maybe not. After all, our paths don’t cross much, and I’ve decided to keep my name. Both because I don’t want the attention ‘Janeway’ would catch, and because of what ‘Vey’ means to me – remnant of my past, and so on. I was so glad when she didn’t bat an eye. “I do hope you’ll not go through CVs on our honeymoon, though.”
“Promise.” Kathryn kisses my chin, then drops her head to my shoulder, closing her eyes again.
“Too bad I can’t come. I’d love to see all those places. Foreign planets, for crying out loud.”
“Well, I could try and see whether there’s a post that fits your abilities.” Kathryn’s mouth quirks.
“You already have a counselor aboard, The Counselor from what I hear.” And as I said, it’s a good thing, too, I know it is. Nothing to be jealous about, or envious of, certainly. “And I’m not a Starfleet officer.”
“Oh, we’ll have a number of civilians onboard, Marie. Experts on the planets we’ll be visiting, Federation negotiators-”
“And my expertise in those areas is really phenomenal, after all.” Ellie frowns at me, clearly irritated at my dark tones. “I’m sorry,” I relent, kissing Kathryn’s hairline. “It’s just… I thought about it, too. About joining you. And I’m damned if I see a task for me aboard.”
“Keeping the CO happy?” Kathryn raises an eyebrow at me.
“Arm candy?” I fire back.
Ellie sits up straighter. “Stop it, the two of you. You’re giving me a headache.” Then she turns to me. “Why don’t you join Starfleet, then?”
I glare at her, glad that Kathryn can’t see it. Ellie knows I’ve given some thought to joining, and she knows why I don’t like the idea. And she knows why I can’t explain that to Kathryn. “Well, even if I did, it would take a while to get through the Academy, wouldn’t it? And there’s no guarantee I wouldn’t get assigned to some rust-bucket on the outer fringes of known spaces.” And it wouldn’t change the scope of my abilities much. I’d still be a social worker, or counselor, and The Counselor has signed on already, after all. Yes, I have given this some thought.
“You wouldn’t be,” Kathryn drawls, stretching lazily, and completely derailing my mental processes with it, “unless they put me there, too, and they’re not in the habit of putting admirals on rust buckets. We’re married now, that counts for something.” My heart sings at her words, and not even her next can change that. “Although… being married to a civilian can be easier. Starfleet couples are under a lot of surveillance, especially when the partners serve in the same line of command.”
“The fearsome F-word,” I sigh, catch an elbow, and elaborate, “fraternization,” for Ellie’s benefit.
“Indeed. But we did well on Voyager, enough people can testify to that.” Kathryn’s voice is… dreamy, somehow. As if the idea of having me on her ship really didn’t scare her anymore, and I wonder what’s brought this change about. The wedding? Those four months on Voyager? Or the fact that her mission probably won’t entail more danger than an unpalatable canapé?
Either way, I love her for it. Either way, I can’t come with her, and my heart feels bleak at the thought.
Serving together with Marie. Now there’s a thought. Starfleet has never discouraged marriage or other forms of interpersonal commitment, under the objective that the working performance of the people involved does not suffer. At least, that’s the official statement preceding that particular set of regulations. No favoritism, no harassment, no abuse of rank or dereliction of duty. But that’s easier said than done – oh, not the simple facts of the matter. Anyone with half a mind can avoid seeming to favor or harass another officer. But handling the emotional role-playing necessary to keep a personal relationship from impairing the working one? Could Kathryn give orders that would endanger Marie? Directly? After the Friiell matter?
It’s not a question of whether or not such a moment would be likely to come up on her next mission, either. It’s the principle behind it; and the question whether the complications inherent would outweigh the… satisfaction of having Marie aboard, not as a guest, but as an officer. She’d make a good one, for all her irreverence. Not your run-of-the-mill space cadet, certainly, but Kathryn had never been appreciative of them, anyway. No – that spark. Tom Paris has it, Chakotay as well. B’Elanna, good grief, yes. Even Harry, by now, and certainly the Doctor. Seven had been nothing but spark at times, untempered by protocol as she is. Mavericks, unconventional, unafraid to speak their minds – and just maybe that definition extends to their CO, too, at least after seven years of Delta Quadrant.
Marie had fitted well in there, but would she fit in a more… classical Starfleet environment? For all Kathryn’s insistence that Voyager be a Starfleet ship, they hadn’t done all things the Starfleet way; not strictly, and how could they have. There wasn’t a protocol for integrating Borg technology, nor for integrating a crew consisting of hunters and the hunted. But for all the newness that had rained down on Marie, she’d adapted quickly. Ellie, too.
But could Kathryn ask it of her? Do I want to? If we weren’t married, if she were just a friend asking me for career advice, would I recommend joining Starfleet to her? Well, at least the answer to that is easy – yes. Marie’s training is needed in Starfleet – the shortage of counselors to aid Voyager’s crew after their homecoming had spoken volumes. But, with that being the case, would she be sent on a mission like this at all? Or would she be assigned somewhere she was needed more? A look down at her finger reassures Kathryn a bit – they don’t usually separate married couples anymore, not if at all possible. But then again, Marie’s comment had been to the point – there really isn’t a post on Voyager’s new mission that Kathryn can see her wife in. Just as the original one, this one doesn’t need an assigned counselor, and even if it did – Commander Troi is more than qualified, which is one of the reasons Kathryn has approved of her application as XO.
She had felt a bit uneasy about it, though. Granted, in these last few weeks, ever since that first appointment outside their assessment routine, talking to Troi really had helped, but that had also meant that Kathryn had looked hard, for quite a while, for signs that she hadn’t opted for Troi as XO just because the counseling was so important to her. The symptoms Marie had spoken about hadn’t shown up yet, true - well, apart from sleeplessness and the occasional nightmare, but those weren’t necessarily indicators of trauma, were they? Still, when Kathryn had recounted that particular conversation to the counselor, the solemn, thoughtful look on Troi’s face told Kathryn that her wife hadn’t been too far off the mark in her reasoning. It had alarmed her, a little. Then she had indeed started reading up, smirking at how well Marie had known she would.
“How about children?” Ellie says, out of the blue. She doesn’t even flinch at the look on Kathryn’s face, either. “I mean, this has been about what’s going to happen professionally, it’s only logical to think about the personal, too, you know.”
“Good grief, Leelee, give us a break here. We’re married all of two days,” Marie exhales explosively.
“You do want kids, though, don’t you?” Ellie asks the question Kathryn can’t find breath for. They never talked about this, and maybe they should have had, before getting married so quickly. Still – thinking back on how her mother and her best friends had conspired to bring it about leaves a warm feeling in Kathryn’s stomach.
“Of course I do,” Marie replies instantly, and that warmth grows. “You know that, Leelee. I’ve always wanted kids. Plural. Lots.” There’s a grin in her voice now, but it’s gone when she goes on, head tilted into the edge of Kathryn’s field of vision, “how about you?”
“Yes.” Kathryn’s answer is instantaneous. She turns her head to meet Marie’s eyes. “You remember us talking about Sam Wildman, and B’Elanna, don’t you? They were so…” she doesn’t finish her thought.
“I do remember,” Marie smiles. “We both thought they were amazing.” Then her voice changes yet again, at what she sees in Kathryn’s eyes, probably. “You want to bear a baby yourself.” Filled with wonder, her words are.
“I want to go first, too.” A furious blush assaults Kathryn. “If you don’t mind, that is.”
“Mind? It’s sensible. You’re older, after all. And I get to watch, and learn.”
A raised eyebrow greets that statement. “Aren’t you charming this morning?”
“Well,” Marie drawls while Ellie chuckles, “I’ll be the one fetching things and rubbing your feet, won’t I?”
Kathryn rolls her eyes, then her face darkens. “Still, it won’t work. I’d be on duty.”
“Well, correct me if I’m wrong,” Ellie says dryly, “but the very fact that you witnessed Sam’s and B’Elanna’s pregnancies means they occurred on duty, right?”
“But I’ll be the cap- uh, commanding officer.”
Marie isn’t fast enough at hiding her smile at Kathryn’s slip, and catches a glare. “Of a diplomatic mission,” she reminds Kathryn, “holding hands of frightened or estranged allies. See it tactically, Kathryn – what better way to assure someone that all’s well with the world than bringing a child into it?”
“If that’s the kind of tactics you employ, I should like to see your first command,” Kathryn snorts, but her thoughts are already turning. Children. Trust Ellie to come up with the most digressive things. Working for notorious Ambassador Troi had only heightened that, it seems. But then again, it isn’t, is it? Not far-fetched at all. Love, marriage – family. Marie had sounded so eager, too.
Children. Kathryn inhales, lets it out again slowly. When she’d resigned herself to being in the Delta Quadrant, she’d ruled it out, even after that ignominious incident with her helmsman and the warp barrier. Seventy years clearly spoke against it. Even twenty-something. But they’re home now, and, she’s not that old. Forty-two, and in good health. On the other hand, forty-two isn’t thirty-three. So going first would be sensible. It’s exasperating, really, how Marie will say things like this and even be right.
But – I’m leaving soon. And while being pregnant on duty certainly is the only way imaginable, being pregnant in space and alone, except for brief stopovers, isn’t exactly the way Kathryn had expected it to be. If you wait for things to be just so, nothing will ever get done, Kathryn suddenly remembers her father sternly telling her. If you want it, go for it.
She smiles and stretches again, pretending to ignore how, again, Marie’s breath catches at the motion, but allowing herself a small, satisfied smile at the reaction nevertheless, fully aware of how that smile will captivate her wife even more. Good God, to be loved this way. Heady, Ellie had called it once. And to love this way – it’s no longer so scary, but… intoxicating, and breathtaking, and… And it will be – not over, but different, in a few weeks. Marie knows the deal. She understands. Don’t beat yourself up like this. Enjoy that honeymoon, and look forward to your returns. You won’t be half a galaxy away. Two hours at the beginning, a few days at warp later on, at the most. And pregnant?
“How would it work, you having children?” Ellie asks, disrupting Kathryn’s thoughts.
“Through a donor,” Kathryn answers, and adds, “or adoption,” for completeness.
“Not through parthenogenesis?” Marie’s eyes are curious. “Genetic splicing, or something? Come on, it’s the twenty-fourth century after all, and I’d love to have a child with a mixture of both our genomes.” She grins impossibly wide, “That kid would have it made.” Both Ellie and Kathryn groan, unisono.
Then Kathryn frowns, thinking about the question. “I’m not sure, you know. It really isn’t something I’ve paid much attention to, to be honest.” Thinks for a bit longer. “And while I might not completely agree with the way you’ve put it, I would love to have a baby that’s our baby; genetically, I mean. It would be ours however it’s conceived.”
Happy chocolate eyes tell her yes.
“You know,” Ellie yawns, “I’ll leave you to talk it over – I can’t tell you how tired I am. And I don’t have a honeymoon coming up, either, but only work and more work, starting tomorrow.” She grins as she rises. “Bet you a brownie that you’re decided before that honeymoon’s over, too.”
“Good thing my mother isn’t around,” Kathryn growls as the door shuts behind Ellie. “Or Phoebe, for that matter.” She rises, too, to look out of the living room window at the courtyard she knows so well.
Marie laughs softly. “They’d probably stage another stealth action, and then what would we do?” Then, more serious, “I think it’s a good thing, too. It’s our decision, after all. So, just between the two of us – what do you think? In your heart of hearts?”
“I’m not sure, Marie.” Pacing isn’t productive, but neither is sitting still, when you get right down to it. “That rollercoaster… I… it’s just not stopping, you see.” Marie’s nod tells Kathryn that she understands. “For a while it seemed that whenever one matter was resolved, another would raise its head. And when things finally seem to wind down, what happens but that they offer me Voyager on a kind of mission I’d have laughed at, under different circumstances. I’m a scientist first, after all. And then my mother made me marry you, and now we’re talking about kids.” Kathryn throws up her hands in exasperation. “I mean, how about a bit of peace and quiet, for a change?”
“You’d go stir-crazy after a month. Two at most, I’d be willing to bet. Hell, I guess you’ll be longing to return to duty after our honeymoon,” Marie says dryly, and endures the glare with a patient smile until Kathryn looks away and crosses her arms.
“Possible.” At least she doesn’t seem upset over the ‘my mother made me marry you’ part.
Marie’s voice turns from teasing to intense. “What do you want to do, Kathryn? Really want? As in, not what you’re being ordered to do, nor even necessarily what being a Starfleet admiral entails?”
The question hangs there, stopping Kathryn’s strides. What indeed?
“I don’t know.” The words come out slowly. “I’ve tried to imagine me working in research, or teaching, or behind a desk, things like that.” She grimaces, and looks at Marie in time to see her smirk. “I guess I could learn to like living without the rush, without the unexpected, but I’m not sure.” She narrows her eyes, then turns to Marie and points behind her, out of the window, up at the sky. “There are days when I think I could do without being out there completely. And then I look up at stationary stars, and they feel… wrong, somehow.” Marie nods, her eyes a-sparkle with a similar sense of adventure, and Kathryn remembers how intrigued she had been about space, and starships, when she’d found out about Kathryn’s origin. Remembers how… well, starstruck Marie had been, at seeing warp rainbows for the first time.
“I don’t think I would like another deep-space mission, though,” she goes on. “On the other hand, a diplomatic run like this…” Kathryn heaves a deep sigh. “Nothing to explore, not really. We’ll be visiting nothing but planets and species that have been Federation member for decades, sometimes centuries. More exciting than a desk job, certainly, but…” she sighs again, spreading her arms in emphasis. “I’m a scientist. Space… it’s where I feel I belong. Exploring, meeting, understanding the unknown. It’s what I always wanted to do, and not even our time in the Delta Quadrant has quenched that.” Marie’s smile has changed to that quiet one of hers, the one that means she understands. The one Kathryn would only see over subspace if… She grits her teeth. “I’ve tried imagining a way in which you could be part of this mission, and I keep running into ‘buts’.”
Marie waves a hand. “I did ask what you wanted to do, and I’m glad that you thought about your own self rather than the ‘us’ everyone expects people to suddenly morph into when they enter a committed relationship.” She smiles when she sees the baffled look on Kathryn’s face. “I don’t want you to curb your imagination for my sake, Kathryn. I do want to figure in our future, that’s true, and in the decisions we’ll both make about it. But I’m a realist, remember?” Her smile turns crooked. “And seeing you each time you come back to Earth doesn’t sound too bad.” And from there to wicked. “With or without belly.” Marie holds out her hands a foot in front of her midriff to illustrate what she means, as if the furious wriggling of eyebrows wasn’t enough.
“For what’s it worth,” Kathryn exhales, ignoring Marie’s antics, “I agree that things could be worse. It’s not a border patrol, no peace-keeping mission, at least not in the strictest sense. No policing assignment somewhere out there.” Very slight chance to get lost, in other words.
Marie seems to think along the same lines. “Like the one that brought you to the Badlands, you mean.”
“M-hm.” Time to sit down. Kick back her legs. Accept her wife’s arm across her waist. “What will you do, while I’m gone?”
“I’ll continue working with the DTI and Professor Ashtiani at the Smithsonian, I guess, and, for as long as Tom’s still around, we’ll go on with that holonovel. And… I could start looking for a place to live for us, somewhere that’s a little more temperate than an Indiana summer.”
“You really were wilting at times,” Kathryn agrees with a smile. She’d seen that one coming before Marie had brought it up, and, truth to tell, the impulse had been twitching inside her, too. Spending the weekends here is comfortable, true enough, but it isn’t what Kathryn wants on a continuing basis. For a visit, yes, and emphatically so, but living under the same roof as her sister is already becoming exasperating again, no matter how much she likes Phoebe and her family. Then again, summer is almost over, and they’ll leave for Betazed around October. “And Ellie even more so,” Kathryn goes on, remembering. Then her thoughts jump to something else. “She and Ambassador Troi are doing well together, from what I hear.”
“A match made in… well, I’m not sure where,” Marie laughs. “Really, it’s perfect – Ellie does have good ideas, but she usually thinks they’re not worth anything, and Lwaxana Troi just picks them out of her head and sees that they get going. Between the two of them, I think they’re running most of the Ambassadorial Corps’ parties, conferences, get-togethers and what-have-you. And I heard she’s being wooed by other ambassadors.” Marie’s voice rings with pride.
“It’s good for her, isn’t it.”
“Oh yes,” Marie agrees readily. “You can practically see her confidence growing. I haven’t seen her enjoy herself so much in years, plus she can get tickets for almost any event or performance. I don’t think she’s home more than two nights a week.”
“She can?” Kathryn raises her eyebrows. It certainly explains the New York Philharmonics tickets. “We need to stay in her good books, then. I can’t remember when I’ve last seen a concert, a play, a ballet.”
“I’ll be happy to take you. But we’re deviating, aren’t we?” Marie lightly pokes Kathryn’s thigh. “Do you think that we could include children in our plans for the years to come?”
“Well, what are your plans for the years to come? We’ve only spoken about mine.”
There’s a smile in Marie’s voice when she answers. “I appreciate your asking. But…” Her shrug twitches beneath Kathryn’s shoulder. “I think I’ll pretty much go on doing the same, for the now.”
“It’s not what you learned, though.”
Marie heaves a silent breath. “No, it’s not. But, you know…”
“It was a lot of responsibility, too, right? Doing what you did.” Kathryn’s mouth quirks. Somehow, she feels this part of the conversation is something they’ve talked about before, only the other way around.
“M-hm.” Marie’s grimace is just as plainly audible as her smile was. “And part of me is glad to be rid of it, it’s true. At least for now.”
“For now, yes. They’ll always need social workers, right? You could pick up again at any time.”
“I’d have to get up to date, but yes. I could. It’s an option.”
Kathryn doesn’t answer, but lets the silence draw out. Sitting like this is… soothing. Peaceful. But Kathryn misses the hum of Voyager’s engines, still and after all these months off the ship. And even if her family home feels like home, their apartment still doesn’t, for all the knick-knacks Kathryn brought with her. At least the orchids thrive. “So you’d be relaxed, and you could work from home, too, probably, right?” She waits until she senses Marie’s nod. “Sounds like a good set of circumstances to bring a baby into.”
“I thought you wanted to go first?” Marie sounds amused. “Or did you plan to drop him or her into my lap first thing after pregnancy?”
“I haven’t made any plans about this at all. I’m still thinking my way through this, I suppose.”
Marie fidgets a bit, to fit her arm around Kathryn’s midriff more snugly. “Well, how about talking to me while you do?”
“Let’s say we go ahead. If we start now, it would mean that I’m pregnant over winter, with the birth in late May or early June-”
“‘Still thinking’?” Marie interrupts her with a guffaw, and catches an elbow.
“-which is a nice time for having your birthday,” Kathryn tries to sound unruffled. “And I wouldn’t be pregnant over summer, which my mother swore off of when she carried Phoebe, apparently.”
“Oh?”
“Phoebe was born September 5th,” Kathryn elaborates. “Which reminds me that I need to find something for her, too.” She frowns. “Which I’m not very good at.”
“We’ll think of something.” Marie sounds a lot more confident than Kathryn feels. “Tell me about maternity regulations within Starfleet?”
“Fourteen consecutive weeks around the birth,” Kathryn tells her – that much she remembers off the top of her head. “Usually, expectant mothers stop working six weeks before the due date. If she wants to and her superior officer and doctor agree, she can go on pulling light duty for longer than that – I’ve heard of Vulcan women working right until they start to bear down, although that might be exaggeration.” She smirks. “I know even B’Elanna was glad when the Doctor… ah, persuaded her to go on maternity leave.”
“I remember. I think everyone was, for one reason or another.”
“I’d hopefully have the Doctor along,” Kathryn goes on, “which would be good. I’d have an inexperienced first officer, though – oh, I don’t doubt that Commander Troi has earned her pips, but I honestly have no idea how she’d manage in the big chair while I’m on maternity leave. On the other hand, the mission is… pretty much plain sailing, at least in theory. I’m certain Troi can hold up her own end of diplomatic endeavors, in any case.”
“Do you think you can hold up your own end with someone swimming around inside of you?”
The image makes Kathryn laugh. “You mean when I become moody, weepy and irrational?”
“You do have a counselor, or someone who used to be, in the chair right beside you. And I’m sure craving herring with whipped cream and mustard can only help at a diplomatic soirée.” A small giggle. “And who would deny a pregnant woman a break, at the negotiation table or wherever, really.” A larger one. “You’d think more people would get this idea.”
“Back to your tactics, are you?” Still, Kathryn can’t help but laugh along.
“I’d really wish to be with you, though,” Marie goes on, far more softly. “To share it with you.”
“And I’d want you to.” Inhale, exhale, squeeze available hand. “I could push for having you aboard with me.”
“And much as I’d appreciate that, I don’t think it would be tactically wise.”
“Neither do I,” Kathryn sighs, “even if Nechayev did say it was my decision whether I’d allow families on board. But I’d taken that to mean Starfleet couples and maybe their kids, seeing how small Voyager is.” Kathryn’s shoulders are knotting, and it takes conscious effort to loosen them. Marie’s free hand comes up and starts massaging the one that’s closest. “Asking a married or otherwise committed person to leave their loved one, or ones-”
“Already practicing your diplomatic parlance?” Marie throws in, light enough for Kathryn to ignore.
“-for only a few weeks at a time, at most, doesn’t seem so cruel, but how can I do that and then sneak my wife aboard? And even if I restricted it, if I drew the line at children, or allowed only unions aboard where all parties could fit a post, I couldn’t ask Tom and B’Elanna to leave Miral behind, nor could I ask one of them to leave the other and their child. And I want both of them aboard anyway.”
“So.” Marie’s tone is slightly questioning.
“So reason tells me to… accept that you can’t be a part of this mission, and that it would be difficult to have a child under those circumstances.”
“And what does the other voice say?”
“Hm?”
“Well, you said reason tells you this.” Kathryn doesn’t need to see Marie’s eyes to know they’re gently teasing. “Which sounds to me like ‘my heart is saying something different’.”
Kathryn smiles. “I’m not exactly known for indulging my emotions.”
“Never.” Oh, the sarcasm. Time for more elbow action. “Come on, Captain Kathryn, this is about having kids. It’s expected that your emotions play a part in this, you know.” When Marie goes on, she sounds a lot more serious. “Indulge me for a moment, if you will, and stop thinking rationally about it. Imagine there’s no other decision hinging on this, no mission waiting, imagine being free to spend the next years just as you see fit – got that firmly in your mind?”
“M-hm.” Even though Kathryn knows why Marie is leading her there, it’s not easy to stay in the mental picture. But it’s her wife painting it, Irreverent Marie, who’s asked Kathryn to trust her with her emotions, a trust which hadn’t let Kathryn down so far. So. Glorious freedom ahead, with this woman at her side… what a luxurious thought. “Yes, I have it.”
“Would you start a family with me then?”
“Yes. In a happy heartbeat.”
Kathryn can feel Marie’s chest expand – she is lying on it, halfway, after all. “Then let’s.”
“But-”
“Kathryn, things might never be right. This mission is scheduled for a while, and however far medicine has come, I don’t like to wait until it’s over.”
“I don’t want to start having babies mid-forties, either, but…” Her voice drops away, but there is no interruption, this time. Kathryn sits up – she wants, needs, to see Marie’s eyes, her face, her expression. “You really mean it, do you.”
An explosive breath says it eloquently enough, but- “Yes, I do, my love.”
“But what about the two of us? We wouldn’t be two any longer. We’d be a family. I… I’m not sure whether I want to give up the…” what? At a loss for words once more, and she’d be doing so well up to now.
“Intimacy?” Marie suggests, not even smiling, and yes, ‘intimacy’ is a good way to put it, so Kathryn nods. “You’re not so unproficient, relationship-wise, as you’d have me believe, are you?” Now she’s smiling. More so, when Kathryn blows her a kiss, quite ironically, for the crooked compliment. “It is the one thing that makes me hesitate most, in fact,” Marie goes on, more soberly. “And as much as I love our future children already, I do love you right now. I… how big a factor is your age, anyway? Uh, sorry for my bluntness, but…” Her smile falters a little, and she blushes.
“I guess the Doctor could tell you more about that than I can,” Kathryn answers, quite detachedly. “Pregnancies right up to menopause are possible, of course, but I’d say that the older you are, the higher the risk for things to go wrong, or be harder.” She takes a deep breath. “But I don’t…” She stops and frowns. Is it pushy to think this way? What if Marie doesn’t agree? Would she comply, just because she thinks Kathryn wants her to? “This isn’t only my decision, Marie.”
“But that’s what I meant earlier, you know?” Marie chuckles, then goes on when Kathryn’s frown gains bewilderment, “I want you to tell me what you want, regardless of what you think I might think or do about it.”
“But what I want influences what you decide, and I don’t want you to… That’s selfish, isn’t it?” Marie is laughing again, if softly.
“In a decision like this? Kathryn, if you told me you wanted leola soufflé for dinner and I didn’t, I would tell you. There are times when I don’t mind going along with what you want, just as you sometimes go along with my ideas. But I’d never swallow my disagreement or doubt over something as far-reaching as this, never. So, please – tell me. Tell me.”
“I don’t want to wait.”
The smile that breaks out on her wife’s face is dazzling.