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"Hey, stranger," his smooth, easy voice landed softly, making her smile. "Fancy meeting you here," he continued; the joy in his tone was like music to her ears, and she swivelled in her seat, meeting his kind and handsome smile with one of her own.
"Mark Johnson," she greeted him brightly, "as I live and breathe."
Gesturing for Kathryn to keep her seat, he completed his journey toward her, leaning in and kissing her cheek. A serendipitous feeling washed over her. "I was just thinking about you," she told him, motioning to the chair beside her. "I can't believe you're here."
Grateful to find her alone, he lifted himself onto his chair and gave her a knowing grin. "Andy is hard to ignore."
"Tell me about it," she grinned. "He invited some of my crew, recruiting them to pester me until I agreed to come."
Mark's face brightened with amusement, "he can be quite persuasive when he wants to be. It's how he gets me to come year after year, promises of good booze and pretty women."
The corner of her mouth quirked.
"I saw you come in earlier. You look," Mark's eyes subtly glossed over her body and then back up to her face, "Amazing, Kath."
"Thanks," she laughed softly, looking down at her drink, trying to hide the way his compliment coloured her cheeks. Toying with the stem of her glass, Kathryn worked to regain her composure. "Is Beth here?" She asked after a moment, lifting the glass to her mouth.
"Yeah," Mark answered, scanning the room. "Last I saw her, she was with Helena." At the name, their eyes met, and they shared a knowing look. "Beth's a good sport and far more tolerant of Andy's new wife than I am," he added with a laugh. "Have you met her yet?"
"No," Kathryn's brow pinched with disapproval. "I'm still having a hard time reconciling that one. Andy had just gotten married to K'Nirah a few weeks before I left."
"That's right." Mark smiled as his eyes glazed. After a moment, he chuckled softly, "That was a good night."
Kathryn didn't laugh or agree; instead, she looked away, sharing his recollections and trying to fight back her smile. From the corner of her eye, she watched him take a long swig from his glass, and together, they slipped into a companionable silence, gazing out at the crowd of happy people, laughing and dancing and celebrating. "So much has changed," she sighed into the space between them.
Mark looked over at her, concerned, not by what she had said but by the sadness that had crept into her tone. Placing his hand on her forearm, he ran the pad of his thumb over the back of her wrist. "It had to, Kath."
His touch felt foreign and familiar at the same time and instantly pulled her attention from the group of officers she was watching. "I know," she said woefully, covering his hand with her own. Mark watched her expectantly as a wave of emotion rolled over her features, and he contemplated asking what was on her mind, but his hesitation was short-lived as Kathryn resolutely dismissed her feelings with a casual flip of her wrist before lowering her chin onto her hand. "How are you, Mark?" She asked with genuine curiosity.
"I'm good," he answered with an inward laugh, remembering how proficient she was with deflection. "Still at Indiana State and other than being prompted to department head, not much has changed." And before he could continue, a server approached the table, holding a tray laden with flutes of bubbling champagne. Kathryn straightened, giving a nod of thanks as a fresh drink was placed in front of her. Mark held up two fingers, and the sever obliged, leaving two glasses, one for him and the other for his wife.
"And how is Beth?" Kathryn asked as she followed the server's departure, her gaze falling on the same group of Starfleet officers she had been watching before.
"She's good," Mark smiled as Kathryn turned back towards him. "She'd like to get to know you, maybe have you over for dinner the next time you're in Indiana."
"Oh," Kathryn answered, scratching at her neck uncomfortably before leaning back in her chair, protectively crossing her arms over her chest. While she had accepted their turn of fate, it was something else entirely to break bread with the woman who shared her former lover's bed despite the change in direction her own heart had taken. "Actually, I was just there for Christmas."
Sensing her uneasiness, Mark welcomed the opportunity to steer the conversation away from his wife. "And how is your mother?'
"She's good," Kathryn smiled fondly, "but you know that."
Mark nodded, his eyes sparkling with delight. Gretchen Janeway remained a link between them, a beacon of information whenever curiosity got the better of either of them. "I do," he agreed and told her about his last conversation with her mother. From there, the conversation transitioned to work; he explained more about his new role, and she told him what she could about hers. Now and then, Kathryn's gaze would flicker towards the crowd of partygoers and return to him with an attentive smile. Their eager banter and friendly laughter made it easier to think about all the bittersweet memories she had spent years trying to bury: how they had met at this very party ten years ago, the chase and the firsts, how they lived and how they loved.
"I owe you an apology," she said bluntly, stopping Mark mid-sentence. She'd let her guard down long enough, allowing vulnerability to seep in and give voice to the guilt that was there, threatening to suffocate her, stalling their contented trip down memory lane with her need to fix something that was long behind them.
"No. You don't." Mark's fingertips stretched across the table, reaching for her hand. "Kathryn, listen to me." He grasped her hand tightly. "You were doing your job," he squeezed her fingers. "Everything else is... was out of your control."
Exasperation radiated from her. "But I made you wait, Mark. I put you off so many times. And not because I didn't love you; it just never felt like the right time." Kathryn hesitated and looked down at their joined hands. "I'm happy you have Beth, it- it's right." She sighed and looked away, passing a sweeping glance over the crowd. "I just," she was watching someone, and Mark followed her gaze. "I worry that I took you for granted," and when their eyes met again, he saw shame and sorrow. "That I might have made you feel unimportant or..." she searched for the right words, "that your needs didn't matter. And if I did, I am so, very sorry."
Mark was silent for a moment, watching her stammer over the guilt that seemed to have consumed her. "I can assure you," he started after clearing his throat. "I knew what I was getting myself into when we met; Kathryn, you're incredible! You're ambitious and virtuous; you're blessed with compassion that knows no bounds, and you're guided by an infallible moral compass." She bristled uncomfortably at his compliment. "Yeah, sure...there were times," he paused and used his thumb to smudge away a tear that started rolling down her cheek, "but I understood." He held her gaze, silently reassuring her until Kathryn's eyes rolled skyward, unable, or unwilling, to receive his mercy. Mark looked at the crowd behind her, "And I'm sure he does, too," he said, tipping his head.
Following his pointed gesture, she spotted Chakotay standing across the room, watching them; his expression was a familiar mask of placid contentment, but Kathryn knew its true meaning. She had mapped the emotions hidden in his features for over seven years: longing, envy, sorrow, regret. And for a fleeting moment, their eyes met.
With the side of her finger, she brushed another rogue tear from her cheek before she started anxiously tugging on her ear.
"Are you happy?" Mark asked, suddenly, a hint of concern in his tone.
"Yes." She answered quickly.
"Really?"
Kathryn sighed heavily and then answered. "I'm happy to be back."
"That's not what I meant, Kath." Mark gathered her hands within his, peering at her. "Are you happy?"
She quickly looked over to where Chakotay had been standing before meeting Mark's watchful eyes. "I'm as happy as I can be."
Nodding as if he had come to some sort of conclusion, Mark released her hands and reached for his drink. "Tell me about him," he asked before taking a sip.
"What?"
"Come on," he looked amused. "All the rumours found their way to my doorstep, and while I don't believe any of them for a second, I'd like to know more about the person you've spent your time with." And when she didn't respond, he added lightly, "I could make some morbid joke about you leaving me for the guy," but seeing the dangerous look on her face, he amended more seriously, "I know you, Kath; you've been watching him all night."
Kathryn inhaled sharply and then let it out slowly. "There's nothing to tell." She said eventually, dismissively.
"I think." Mark prodded gently, "That maybe there is...something."
Emotion stormed through her: anger, resentment, indifference, and Mark forced himself not to look away. He watched as her face flushed and her eyes turned glossy, exposing the truth, the sorrow and the hurt. Finally, she looked at him, and for once, her expression was unguarded. "Regrettably, my rank snuffed out the possibility of something ."
Mark nodded, hoping his silence would encourage her to continue. And after a moment, Kathryn gave a laugh of defeat, gently shaking her head. "Alright, you win," she said before pausing to collect her thoughts. "He's kind and considerate," the corner of her mouth slowly hooked into a feeble smile. "He listens, and he makes me laugh. He's pulled my finger off the trigger more times than I can count, and he always tries to steer me toward peace. And thankfully, his patience outlasts my stubbornness." She stared into her champagne, mesmerized by the bubbles as she spoke. "There were days onboard Voyager when I felt completely alone like I had no one to turn to and no one I could trust. Chakotay became that person. He was my confidant and my conscience." She looked back up to meet Mark's smiling gaze. "There were times when he was it. He was all I had."
"And?"
"It's complicated," she told him with a shrug, and Mark wondered if he detected a hint of bitterness.
"Starfleet complicated?"
With vacant eyes, she subtly shook her head. "I don't know anymore."
They were both silent for a minute until, finally, Mark spoke. "I've always admired your resiliency, Kath. The way you're able to adjust and adapt to whatever life throws at you, it's remarkable, but you're only human; you can only bend so far until you break. You're pragmatic and sensible, and I know that you fought like hell to get home, but I also know your tendency for self-reproach." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. "I can only imagine the stress you had to endure, the weight of responsibility on your shoulders while you fought to keep yourself alive, let alone your crew. The sacrifices you were forced to suffer and the choices that you made to survive." He forced her to look at him. "I know it all came at a great personal cost, but you have to forgive yourself, Kathryn."
She opened her mouth to rebuttal, but he continued. "You're carrying guilt and regret for things," he sighed sadly. "Things you did for your job, and for survival and peace, and for your own sanity."
"Nothing happened between us," she whispered.
"I know that, and you need to forgive yourself for that too."
"Five minutes!" Someone, possibly Andy, shouted excitedly from the crowd.
"10 years ago, I fell in love with a wild and spontaneous and carefree woman, who I later learned was on track to become one of Starfleet's most decorated Captains," Mark stood up from his chair. "And although our time has passed, I still love her and want nothing more than for her, for you, to be happy." Kathryn's eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "It's time for you to let someone else fall in love with Kathryn Janeway."
Knowing he had to go before the countdown started, so he could ring in the new year with his wife, Kathryn stood. Reaching for one another, she was pulled into a deep, fortifying hug. "Thank you, Mark," her voice muffled by his shoulder.
"A new year means a new beginning, Kath," he whispered in her ear and felt her cheek move against his as she grinned. "Find forgiveness. I want you to be happy." He said as their embrace ended.
Kathryn nodded, offering him a wet smile. "Happy New Year, Mark."
"Same time next year?" He asked with a wink as he grabbed his glasses from the table.
"Maybe?" She shrugged, raising her champagne in salute.
"Happy New Year, Kath!" He called out, and then he was gone, swallowed by the crowd of people, excitedly moving toward the centre of the room.
Kathryn sat alone at the table, sobering in her solitude. Her wistful smile slowly faded as she slipped back into the comfortable reflection Mark had pulled her from. With renewed nostalgia, she thought about the ways time and space had transformed her life; for better or worse, she was changed. She thought about the past year, one full turn around the sun, earthbound, broken and alone. And she thought about Chakotay, who had unwittingly become her salvation.
"Sixty Seconds!" An eager voice called out from the crowd. The year was quickly coming to an end.
Lifting her glass, Kathryn downed the remaining champagne, deciding to save her reflections for another time and end the current year surrounded by people she cared about. Truth be told, she felt encouraged by Mark's words, his blessing in a way and now she wanted nothing more than to share the first moments of 2379 with him.
"Kathryn." Chakotay's voice came from behind her as though he had read her mind. "Is everything alright?"
A sense of calmness washed over her, slowing her thoughts and easing her tension. The effects of his peaceful and deliberate nature still disarmed her, even after all these years. She answered with a nod, turning her head to see him standing a few paces behind her. In his hands, two more glasses of champagne.
"Was that Mark?" He asked, knowing that it was. "Did he upset you?"
"No," Kathryn answered softly. "He didn't."
Chakotay nodded as he took a tentative step towards the table, setting the glasses down. "It isn't Anterian Cider," he grinned, "but I'm developing a taste for it." His dimpled grin eased into place, and her heart fluttered. He was close enough that she could smell his cologne but still far enough away to respect the miserable parameters she had asked for all those years ago.
Forgive yourself. Mark's words floated through her mind.
Kathryn watched him as he scanned the crowd for their friends. Studying the contours of his face, she followed the ink lines of his tattoo to the natural lines around his dark, sparkling eyes, from the dimple in his cheek, which was always more pronounced when he smiled at her, to the gentle curve of his lips. She blinked quickly, feeling the warmth in her cheeks.
Be happy.
"Shall we?" Chakotay asked, gallantly offering his arm and gesturing that they head towards the group of people clustering together at the centre of the room.
Nodding, she reached for his hand and as her feet hit the floor, she swayed a little, the mixture of alcohol and emotion knocking her slightly off balance, and Chakotay tightened his grip. Offering a reassuring smile, she tilted her chin up and looked straight into his luminous eyes. Without thinking, Kathryn placed her hand over his heart, her cold fingers sliding over the warmth of his chest, just like she had done countless times before.
The crowd began to chant, "Ten!"
And the voice inside her head urged, be wild.
"Nine!"
Be spontaneous.
"Eight!"
Be carefree.
"Seven!"
Clutching the fabric of his tunic into her fist, she reached out with her other hand, cupping his cheek. Easing onto her toes, she gently pulled him in to meet her halfway, and when her lips brushed against his, her eyes fluttered closed, and she cast aside doubt and fear for the heart that beat for her own. As his shock subsided, Chakotay inched the slightest bit closer, pressing their lips more firmly together, and everything around them seemed to fade away. They lingered, relieved and yearning, neither daring to breathe, and when they finally broke apart, glitter was flying, and the crowd was cheering. It was midnight. Kathryn grinned at him, a thousand unspoken words shining in her eyes. "Happy New Year, Chakotay," she said after a breath.
Warmth and hope radiated from him as the restraint he had maintained for so many years finally snapped. With the slightest hesitation and trembling hands, he reached for her. "Happy New Year, Kathryn," he managed, his words smothered by her lips as he pulled her in for a second, more fervent kiss.
And as her arms wound around his neck, a brassy melody began to play, filling the room with notes of a song, practically medieval in its tune and lyrics. They kissed as the crowd began to sing along. They kissed as fireworks exploded in the distance. They kissed as Kathryn surrendered—for auld lang syne.