Work Text:
‘Kathryn had a little dog—’
‘—the Captain,’ she said, around a mouthful of toothpaste. ‘Chakotay, come and get her, will you?’
‘Sure thing, Captain.’ He scooped up Helen, who suffered to be held while Kathryn finished brushing her teeth.
She spat into the sink, then fixed them both with a look. ‘I know you. I know you’ll take this—' she waved her toothbrush '—outside these four walls.’
‘Is it my fault that Tom and Harry laugh and play to see an Irish setter on the bridge?’
Helen was nuzzling his cheek. She softened. 'Q has left worse legacies, I suppose.'