Chakotay reached for the wine bottle and poured more into his glass and Tom's. Blue eyes met his and softened in thanks. He lifted the bottle towards Noah, but the man declined. Martis moved her glass forward, cocking her eyebrows. He sighed to himself, repeated his internal mantra, she's almost an adult, and gave her some as well. Knowing it was only synthehol seemed to make little difference in his mind. Even after four years and some months of rapid growth and maturing, she was still the toddler who would run to him with arms outstretched, begging to be lifted into the air and spun. Who would fall asleep on his shoulder as he sang quiet native songs, her palm pressed firmly to his throat, absorbing the vibrations. Who was now in love.
"Okay," said Tom to her, "food is done - tell us why you've got that PADD."
She took another drink of her wine. "It's the letter from my grandmother. There's a couple of things I wanted to ask you about. Things she's asked me."
Tom closed his eyes very briefly. "Like what?"
Chakotay put his hand on Tom's thigh and gave it a slight squeeze, and the man responded by clasping their hands together. He watched Martis access the letter. Noah relaxed against the back of his chair, his attention firmly on her, too.
Martis said, "Well, here's one. She wants to know if you two have arguments, and if Tayo gets angry at you or me. Why would she be asking me that?"
His heart skipped. Tom's hand tightened as he turned to him. "I think you should tell her, Tom," he said very quietly.
Tom took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, then looked at their daughter. "What else did she ask about?"
"Da - what should you tell me?" Martis was getting that look on her face. The stubborn one she had the genes for.
But Tom shook his head. "Let me hear it all first, then I'll tell you."
There was a momentary stalemate between two sets of piercing blue eyes, until the young woman gave in and scrolled through her letter. "She's asked about Momma and why she left. If it had anything to do with Tayo, or with you and Tayo. That I really don't understand at all, and again why she'd ask me about it. Then there's just a question about whether or not I'm happy living here with you two. But it's right after the question about Momma." She placed the PADD on the table.
He could feel the tension in Tom's body, so he let go of his hand and massaged the back of his neck instead. Tom rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger and took another very deep breath.
"Martis, my mother is a very straightforward person. She speaks her mind, doesn't pull any punches. I think, knowing her, that she's worried about you, living here with us. She wants to hear things out of your mouth about it."
"You're not telling me the whole truth, Da. And I'm not listening to you - but you know I can tell. So please, don't keep things from me. Not about this. I don't know her and I don't know your father and I don't want to say something that would be inappropriate. I don't like these questions. They make it sound like Tayo is some sort of villain."
Tom sighed. "You're right." He lifted his hands and gently slapped them on the tabletop. "I'm trying to protect you." He took a drink of wine. "Okay, I'll tell you the whole truth. My father is what they call homophobic. It's an outdated term, but unfortunately, it still applies to some people. That means that he doesn't like homosexuals - actually it means that he hates homosexuals because he's afraid of them. The afraid part I don't know that I agree with in his case but anyway..." He paused to take another swallow.
"You're kidding," Noah stated quietly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to butt in, I'm just so shocked. I'd never heard that about the admiral."
Tom was still drinking, so Chakotay answered. "No, it's true. And you're not butting in." He smiled at the man.
Martis was just looking at them both, her glance drifting from one to the other. "I don't understand," she finally said.
"My father refuses to acknowledge the fact that Chakotay and I have a serious, stable, committed relationship. Or any relationship at all. My mother acknowledges it, and has even told me she's happy for me, but she's heard some things about Chakotay - from his time in the Maquis. Clearly, from her questions, she doesn't quite trust him, and she's not entirely sure that we're a good set of parents for you. I'm sorry - but that's the truth. Don't get me wrong. My mother, as opposed to my father, is not entirely homophobic. She just doesn't know anything about this man here, other than what's in his dossier - which I know she's poured over - and what I've told her. She wants more information."
"My grandfather hates you two because you love each other? How could he? And how could he just... just ignore you? And why in the world would my grandmother think that Tayo is a mean person? Not a good parent to me?" Her eyes were filling and she was breathing hard. Noah leaned forward and took her hand in his, rubbing it, getting her to look at him and calm herself.
Chakotay could tell that Tom, too, was getting upset seeing what his family dynamics were doing to his daughter. He said, "Martis, honey, your grandmother thinks these things about me because of what I did in the Maquis. I was an enemy of Starfleet. I recruited your Da to pilot for me. It was because of me that he went to prison, and she's got to be allowed to have some feelings about that..."
Tom snorted, and said with disgust, "It was not because of you that I went to prison, Chak! How can you say that? It was my choice to join, and it was my choice to get them to follow me. I knew I'd end up captured. I did it to save you."
"Well, you wouldn't have gone if we hadn't broken up, Tom! And trying to save me just proves my point..."
"What - were you going to keep me locked up on the ship and never let me complete a mission?! That's ludicrous! Mom thinks those things because Dad's told her that you were the thorn in Starfleet's side - you were just too damned good at what you were doing. You were infamous - and he's probably pissed because you had the nerve to leave the fleet in the first place..."
"It's not ludicrous..."
"Excuse me!" Martis' voice interrupted them both. Startled, they turned to her. She had a small smile on her face. "I think I've got an argument to tell her about now." The smile disappeared. "And I think I understand why my grandparents would believe that Tayo might be hard to get along with. I do remember what you both told me about the Maquis and the war. But they have no right to decide whether either of you have been good parents. It seems to me that's something only the members of my family here on board would know. So I'll just have to tell her. I'll answer all of her questions. Then she'll know, too."
Chakotay couldn't say anything right then because he felt uncomfortable about this whole situation. Even though he believed in total honesty, the thought that his daughter was going to defend him to his soon to be in-laws did not sit well.
"Martis," said Tom, "just keep in mind that it's not on your shoulders to try and make my mother see anything. Okay?"
"Okay, Da, I'll remember that." She smiled gently at them both.
Chakotay felt only slightly relieved. He was recognizing something in Martis that had been appearing more often since she'd been dating Noah over the prior few weeks. A certain strength of character could be seen behind her eyes. Her father manifested it there, too. In Chakotay's mind, he often thought there was an actual change in the color of their irises. Clear, sky blue would become gray-blue, as if bolstered by a steel framework. She'd never been a passive child by any stretch of the imagination. She was simply uncovering her core of toughness as she reached adulthood. Kes' soft power was showing. So was Tom's resoluteness.
Sitting on his heels, holding on to Harry's hips, Greg groaned. The man lowered himself down, slowly, almost too slowly onto Greg's aching erection. He pulled Harry back against his chest as the haze of lust made his vision blur. He buried his face into the silky fringe of straight, black hair and inhaled. All Harry. Uniquely Harry. Neither of them had moved yet, the intensity of their joining had them momentarily suspended. He ran his broad hands along Harry's thighs, over his hips, up his chest, armpits, and arms, kissing the side of his neck, marking it until Harry started to writhe. One of his greatest joys in life was to make Harry writhe - under him, over him, straddling him, pressed up against the wall of their shower with legs around his waist.
He finally let his hands zero in on the place Harry wanted it the most. At his first touch, Harry moaned, shivered again and started to move himself. Up onto his knees, almost drawing off Greg, then plunging down again. Greg saw stars.
"Jesus, Har," he managed to say with a gasp.
"Take me, Greg," Harry responded huskily.
This time when he pulled up, Greg grasped Harry's hips again and met him on the way back down, thrusting hard. The stars multiplied. They both groaned loudly. Their rhythm was set as they moved together, thighs slapping, a sheen of sweat covering them quickly. The haze of impending orgasm thickened. Their movements increased in speed. Greg got his hand around Harry's erection and let the thrusting of their bodies do the stroking. He was getting close, and from the now nearly erratic hips hitting his, he knew Harry was, too.
He felt so fucking heady as the words formed on his tongue. His scrotum was so tight it almost ached. "Come, Harry," he said through clenched teeth. "Come..."
Harry cried out and arched, throwing his head back on Greg's shoulder, contracting around him as he spurt into the air, onto his chest and Greg's hand. Greg followed, thrusting even more deeply into him, the stars exploding behind his eyes as he collapsed back onto his heels, clutching Harry to his chest, latching his mouth back onto that glorious neck, uttering words of love that were returned ten fold.
Tom took another big swallow of wine, emptying his glass, feeling the need for fortification. Synthehol or not, the taste helped. He would question why he felt nervous later, in Chakotay's arms with warm skin against his lips. Now he just stumbled past it.
"Our news is that we've decided to get married," he stated. He glanced to his right. Two dimples glowed and deep, dark eyes shone into his. He smiled back as the relief washed over him.
"Really?!" Martis cried.
Tom looked at his daughter and his heart caught. She was beautiful. The love she was showing for the two of them was almost overwhelming. He saw Kes in her, clearly, and with a start, he saw his sister in her as well.
Chakotay answered her, yes, really, and within a second she was up and throwing her arms around their shoulders, kissing them on their cheeks, before bounding back to her chair.
The whirlwind around him calmed, Tom finally had a reaction of his own. He was surprised. "I never had the impression that you wanted us to get married before this," he said to her.
"I know. I never really felt that you should, or anything, Da," she answered with a smile, "but now that you've decided, I think it's wonderful. It's perfect. To stand in front of everyone and make vows of forever to each other. It'll be so lovely. I can hardly wait!"
Tom's stomach clenched, and he grabbed Chakotay's hand. "Well, it won't be in front of everyone. It's just going to be a small ceremony. Nothing big. Just family."
Her face fell. "Why? There should be a big party. Tayo's the First Officer! You're the Chief Helmsman! Everyone's gonna want to be there..."
He tightened his grip. "Because that's just how we want it. I can't explain it. And don't say anything to anyone yet."
Again, she studied both of them, back and forth. He saw something change behind her eyes, then her smile and nod.
"Okay," she stated.
He almost said something, like what are you up to, but he didn't. It was their wedding, they would do it like they planned. Small. No fanfare, no fuss, no big deal. It was just a legal affair.
Harry clutched Greg and fell apart against his shoulder. He'd thought his need for crying had been spent earlier in the evening, when the reality had sunk in. He'd only wanted to make hard, hot love, and forget it all. Once the afterglow had diminished, his emotions took hold once more. Greg held him, as he always did, his long arms surrounding him firmly and lovingly. How could life be so cruel, he cried. He had the most amazing man, whom he loved so dearly, and would willingly die for if necessary. How could that not be a wondrous thing? How could his deity turn on him, and deny him his parents because of it? His family was his anchor. He relied on knowing they loved him. Yet, Greg was everything else. He relied on the absolute knowledge of that, too.
He was afraid. How could he be who he once was, if he no longer had his parents, his family? And how in the world was the man he loved going to keep feeling optimistic if he never heard from his children? How was Greg going to cope? Each and every month, getting nothing.
Harry stopped crying and pulled back. "We'll get someone to help us, Greg, someone to find them. We will. I promise."
Greg wiped the tears off his face and smiled softly. "I know." He ran a finger over Harry's lips. "I love you, Harry. I will never leave you."
He let himself drift downward and take Greg's mouth, kissing him slowly and deeply. Losing himself in the man who held his heart. Who had completely changed his life.
In bed, Chakotay and Tom discussed how concerned they were for their best friends. Took the problem apart bit by bit and tried to find some way to comfort each of them. Harry for the difficulties of parental rejection, Greg for the difficulties of separation. They were each very close to wishing the Pathfinder project had never been born. The security of Starfleet knowing they were all alive, trying to get home, almost did not outweigh the personal price some people were paying. They made plans to have another vid night, and decided on the film to watch.
For some reason, they returned to their earlier argument, though they'd had it so many times the sting was long gone. But still, two stubborn men tried to decide which of them loved the other more - defined by what had happened years before, on a Maquis ship, in the midst of war.
Chakotay rolled on top of Tom, claiming he was responsible for the arrest, since he hadn't protected the man he was pinning to the bed, and had done the unthinkable - hadn't believed in what they'd had back then. Sending Tom to his doom was inexcusable.
Tom rolled him back over, declaring that he took care of himself and that he'd sacrifice himself again for the man whose black eyes were staring at him, in a heartbeat. There'd be no question. Chakotay growled and Tom couldn't resist. He attacked him, kissing him ferociously and was attacked in return. They consumed each other, until legs, and hips, and hard shafts got involved as they grappled, and thrust, and clung, and climaxed and eventually slept deeply in bliss.
B'Elanna woke up in a sweat and untangled herself from Ken. Her heart was beating rapidly. Her head was beginning to pound. The remnants of her dream mutated into anxiety as she sat up and ran hands through her hair. She tried to breathe and relax the tightness in her chest.
Ken stirred, then took her arm and pulled her back down. She allowed it, and even welcomed it, though she'd never tell anyone how much she needed it. She had no illusions that Ken was ignorant, however; he knew her too well. He was as necessary for her as the recycled air they both breathed.
It was these damned communications from the Alpha Quadrant that had her so spooked. Or lack of them. Neither of them had received anything yet - there still were only a few Maquis getting anything. She didn't imagine that her father had been contacted, had anyone even the means to find him. Not that she wanted to talk to him. He could stay in whatever life he'd made away from her and her mother - that was fine with her.
And Ken - his parents had lost track of him once he'd joined the Maquis. He had no idea whether or not they were still on Bajor. He claimed he wasn't worried about them, that they were self-reliant. But B'Elanna suspected that wasn't entirely true. Ken's soft heart had ached each time the letters from home had arrived. He'd only acted as though it didn't matter.
She pulled herself to him tightly and kissed his neck. They had each other, and they had their family on board. Even in his sleep, the strength of his hold increased and he mumbled something. She smiled. "I love you, too...," she murmured. And she did. Passionately. Completely. She thought about the first time she'd ever seen him, smiling again to remember what an ass he'd been, and with that memory drifted back to sleep.
Martis lay in bed, trying to get to sleep. She was about to give up and read her book, or go replicate some tea. She even considered taking a really hot shower, but the hot water hitting her skin right then didn't seem like a very good idea. It was thoughts of sex that were keeping her awake in the first place.
She felt perfectly safe knowing that Noah would never push her. Not ever. He was a wonderful man, and she was falling more and more in love with him as the days passed. He brought out feelings in her that she was thrilled to discover. She was understanding much more completely all of the things that B'El and the captain had told her. She was even understanding more about her own fathers, and the bond they shared, forged by intimacy. But wanting that with Noah did not mean she felt at all ready to get it. And that's what confused her. When do you know it's the right time?
The only thing she decided was that at some point soon, she'd talk to the two women in her life who'd helped her before. Because she loved Noah - his touch, his skin, his kisses, his scent, his heart. And time was not on her side.
"Okay, bring it over here," Martis said excitedly.
Naomi climbed onto the bed with her and scooted to the head, moving Dog out of the way with a pat. She handed her mother's imager to Martis, grinning. "She says to look at files 126 to 179."
"Thank you - we've only got another hour before I have to turn my letter over." Martis accessed the files Samantha recommended. Sure enough, there were images of her and her fathers when she was younger. "Oh, Naomi - do you remember this evening? I think I do..."
They looked at a picture of Martis lying on Tayo's lap, her legs stretched on top of his, her head back on his chest. She was clutching Dog tightly. Tayo was holding her. Da was sitting right next to them, with Naomi on his lap. All four of them were watching a vid, intently.
"Look at your eyes." Naomi started to laugh. "They're so big. I remember that one. We were so scared!"
Martis poked her in the side, laughing along with her. "It was scary! Those flying monkeys gave me nightmares. And I seem to remember a girl who wanted her mother to sleep with her that night," she teased. "So - what do you think? Send this one?"
Naomi nodded.
"Yeah," Martis said softly, "I agree. It's a good picture of Tayo, and of Da." She felt very lucky that the captain had agreed to let her have a little more space in the data stream. She'd already finished up her letter to her grandmother, and had left nothing unsaid. Honesty always paid off in the end, that's what all of her parents had taught her. She'd beg more room next month, too, and send an image of Neelix, and Naomi and Samantha, and Greg and Harry, and B'El and Ken, and anyone else she could find. Maybe Samantha had one of her mother.
Naomi let out a little squeal, scrolling through the imager databank. She'd found something else, and for the next thirty minutes the two of them looked at memories. Naomi curled up next to her, eventually admitting that she was a little sad that her friend had grown so quickly. Martis was glad she'd said something, because then she could admit that she missed her, too. It felt good to have it out in the open.
"Come with me," she finally said, "while I turn my letter in. Then we'll go bug Neelix. Steal some chocolate. Tickle him. Help him serve lunch."
"Aren't you going to eat with Noah?" Naomi asked quietly.
"I think today I'd rather be with you two. Noah will understand. Come on." She jumped off the bed and put on her shoes.
The girl smiled broadly as she jumped off, too, and grabbed Martis' hand as they dashed out the door with an imager and a PADD.
Across the desk, their captain grinned outright as she put her coffee cup down. "That is wonderful news. Of course, I'd be delighted to perform the ceremony." She paused, and Chakotay saw her gears beginning to move. Rapidly. His heart thudded. "Now," she continued, "we'll have to put the ship in full stop for a few hours, but it'll be worth it. Everyone's going to want to come, we'll start putting aside some energy reserves so that the replicators don't take too much..."
He interrupted her gently. "Excuse me, Captain, but perhaps we didn't speak up enough. A small ceremony. Just family. No big deal." He saw Tom nodding out of the corner of his eye.
"No big deal? How can it be no big deal?! You're the second in command here. He's our top pilot. This is a huge deal. If we were in the Alpha Quadrant, we'd be heading for one of the stations so we could really party," she huffed good naturedly.
He tried again. "Please. Nothing big."
"Why?" She demanded.
How could he explain it? He didn't really mind a big party - if they'd been on Dorvan the entire village would have put on a party to end all, running long into the night. The ceremony would have been the same way. The spiritual leader would engage all of the members of his family who'd want to participate, each would have their say. Why the match being blessed was deserved of such an honor. But here? On Voyager? With Tom? Tom would bolt so quickly Chakotay would only see the back of that blond head heading out the door before getting anywhere near to "I promise."
The man in question broke the silence. "We simply feel, Captain, that given our circumstance, having lived together for five years, we're merely changing the legal status of our situation."
"Tom, you make it sound like nothing more than a contract," she replied. "Where's the romance?"
In the end, they'd gotten an agreement out of her that the ceremony would be small and intimate. Just family and senior staff. Chakotay still had an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach as they returned to the bridge however.
Sitting at the helm, Tom tried to concentrate. Any number of emotions were churning inside of him. Attempting to keep to their bargain had been hard in the ready room. He'd love to have a big party for their wedding, to show off the man he'd married, to dance, and have fun with his friends. But Chakotay would die of embarrassment over the fuss. And he'd do anything to prevent that. Anything at all. He'd fall on a sword before letting the man he loved more than his own life be embarrassed in front of his crew. No question. The decision was made.
Kathryn pondered the problem for only a few minutes after the ready room doors closed behind the two men. She decided that they were just plain too stodgy. A small ceremony for the ship's golden couple? Were they crazy? She was the captain, and as such had certain privileges. She put in a call to their daughter - to get her take on the matter. Martis was on her way. Then called Astrometrics and asked Megan to run a long range scan to see if she could find a nice M-class planet for them to orbit on slow impulse and automatic pilot. She'd talk to Tuvok, and then call a meeting of Chakotay and Tom's closest friends. Small ceremony, indeed.
The meeting was held on holodeck one, after alpha shift and after dinner. So, hopefully, neither of the men would see the gathering. Kathryn looked around the group, feeling not the least bit guilty or illicit. Just excited. She had the blessing of the one person who knew them the best. Martis had been enthusiastic in signing on to the idea. The young woman had felt strongly that neither of her fathers were being completely up front with her over the wedding plans. She'd just been waiting for them to tell people about the nuptials, so she could start talking things over with everyone.
They were going to design a wonderful, tasteful wedding, that the entire crew could watch, either by being there, or by remote visuals. The only spot on the ship where all one hundred forty-seven of them could congregate was the shuttle bay and that was hardly the place for a wedding.
Kathryn started off the meeting by asking for suggestions of places that meant something to either Chakotay or Tom. Someplace special.
"The ocean," Martis stated.
Kathryn liked that idea, so she encouraged more input.
"Well, since a boat wouldn't work," Harry said after a moment, "I think somewhere along a coast."
"Not a beach, though," B'Elanna added. "Just doesn't seem like either of them."
"Chakotay's always said the places on Dorvan he liked the best were the open fields, in the foothills," Greg said, "aside from the forests, that is. Since that wouldn't really go along with an ocean."
"Well," Kathryn said, "there are some places along the California coast that are sort of prairie like."
"Yes, but where specifically?" Harry asked, looking around the group. No one answered for a minute or two, though a few of them whispered amongst themselves.
"Excuse me," Noah said. Kathryn's neck got cold. "Last week, the lieutenant and I were talking about back home, and he told me about a place. I know it, too. I think it would be just right. He seemed to be particularly fond of it. Gualala, a ways up the coast from San Francisco. Where the Gualala river spills into the ocean. There are fields of wildflowers there, going right up to the cliffs, above the ocean."
Martis clapped her hands. "Oh, it sounds perfect."
Kathryn had to snap her mouth shut before she followed her urge and asked the young man why he thought he could contribute anything at all to this discussion. "Anyone have any ideas?" It was the best she could think to say. She ignored the swift movement of Martis' head in her direction.
"Well, Captain," Harry jumped in, "I'd forgotten, but Gualala is a place that Tom's mentioned before. Given what Greg's said, I vote for it. I'm familiar with that area as well, and I think I could create it, or something pretty darn near to it."
"I like it, too," Martis stated, folding her arms.
"Very well, then, Harry. Let's do that. How long do you think it would take you?"
The discussion started in earnest, now that a place had been picked. Party plans were made, food plans were added, and plans for the crew's attendance. Kathryn was more than satisfied.
Martis stood outside the captain's quarters, taking a very, very deep breath. She'd said good night to Noah in his cabin, but hadn't told him what she'd intended to do. He would only try and talk her out of it. But she'd had enough. She hit the chime. Within a few seconds, the door opened and she entered.
The captain was sitting in her lounge chair, reading a book. The woman was surprised to see her, but waved her to the couch. Martis took advantage of the surprise and asked for permission to speak to her on a personal matter, knowing full well that she'd not be refused. The captain nodded.
"I have something I need to say to you, and I want you to know that I mean no disrespect by it, Captain. But my mother always told me that you were a fair person," she started, then stopped, suddenly nervous. She clasped her hands together to steady herself.
Captain Janeway nodded again, but didn't say anything.
"I'm very uncomfortable with the way Noah's suggestion was dismissed earlier. So I really only wanted to tell you that he's been accepted into my family. My fathers all like him, and he likes them. He loves me, Captain, and I love him. He's a good man," she continued, but had to stop again because her throat was closing. She had the instant urge to leave, so she stood. "I apologize for disturbing you. I just wanted you to understand. Good night."
She was almost to the door, when the woman called her back. She didn't want to turn around because tears had escaped down her cheeks. She wiped them as she acquiesced and sat once again.
"Why are you crying, Martis?" There was no harshness in her tone.
Why was she crying? It was so complicated. "Because... Your opinion means something to me. And I love Noah." She thought that explained it pretty concisely. Some of it, anyway.
The captain sighed deeply and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, Martis could see some sadness there. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I know that you love him. I know that your fathers have accepted your relationship with him. But how do I know that he's, well, trustworthy?"
She was astonished. "Because we say he is," she answered quietly. The lump was returning too rapidly. "He's going to be with me until the end of my life, which isn't all that long, and it may be totally on this ship," she started to cry again, "and I thought I could talk to you about some things, about him, but..." She lost control and covered her face.
The next thing she knew, the captain had joined her and was wrapping her arms around her, rocking her gently. She sobbed, not entirely sure where the tears were coming from, but unable to stop them.
As the crying slowed, the captain continued to hold her, even caressed her head softly.
"You know," the woman said quietly, "I remember when I did this for your mother, when the elogium hit her and she was so upset. My, I'd never seen Kes like that, bless her heart. I loved your mother. I still miss her." She pulled back and tipped Martis' face up. "I'm sorry, Martis. I'm truly sorry. You're absolutely right. I should trust the people that I care about in a matter like this. Now. How about we start over? Can you stay for a little while yet? Tell me about Noah, about why you love him..."
So she stayed, after comming her fathers. They talked well into the night, and eventually, they talked about making love and how to know. She was extraordinarily grateful that the captain spoke honestly and openly. And to her complete surprise, the commanding officer of the ship not only admitted she'd been mistaken, but promised to make amends.
Martis slept deeply and soundly when she finally went to bed. She dreamed of walking hand in hand with Noah through fields of wildflowers. Of lying with him in the sweet grass.
Noah sat in the ready room and tried to keep his hands from working themselves together. For some reason he didn't understand, he was sitting on the couches, and not in front of the desk. If that wasn't disturbing enough, the captain was at the replicator asking if he wanted anything. He did, actually. He wanted to leave. He declined her offer.
Then she sat next to him and threw him completely off balance by doing something he never thought she would to. Something, in his less than stellar moments, he never thought she could do. She apologized. Not exactly for ordering his death, but for Martis' sake. His heart began to thud as words buzzed in his ears. For Martis' sake, because she cared deeply for the young woman, she would do her best to let go of her reservations about him and the one he loved.
Because he was so thrown and still trying to find his center of gravity, when she asked him the question he didn't even think to hesitate before answering. He told her what he hadn't told anyone but Martis, not even his best friends.
"I know that I'm home when I'm with her," he stated simply.
For the first time since they'd met, Captain Janeway's face softened for him. She nodded, and patted his knee, and thanked him for his honesty. Reeling, he left, and stopped momentarily outside the ready room doors. He looked to the bridge. The commander stood and faced him, and the pilot turned in his seat to do the same. Two of the three men who were giving him the greatest gift. The totality of it was never far from his consciousness, but right at that very moment, he understood everything. His life was in their hands and he felt nothing but secure because of it.
He could see their concern, so he smiled, and nodded, and when their shoulders relaxed he walked to the 'lift. The commander sat after sharing a smile with the pilot. The pilot turned back to the helm. Noah heard the comforting hum of bridge activity as the 'lift doors closed.
After getting settled on the couch with Greg, Harry grabbed a handful of popcorn and passed the bowl to Ken, sitting on the floor. B'Elanna took a large portion of the snack and poured it into a bowl for the two of them, then passed it behind her to Tom.
"Hey," said the passee to her, "if you're gonna take that much, go make another batch."
"Yeah," Greg agreed.
She turned around and glared good naturedly at the four men on the couch, in turn. "I will consent to make more when the bowl empties, but if Ken and I don't get some to ourselves, you guys will hog it all. Next time, let's just make three batches to start with."
"On whose rations?" Harry asked. "We provided the synthale."
Ken added, "Well, we've brought brownies."
"And good ones, too, thank you," said Greg.
"You're welcome," the man answered, smiling at B'Elanna.
She looked pointedly at Tom and Chakotay. "I think that means you two pay for the popcorn."
"We're on a budget - we've got wedding rings to replicate," said Tom, leaning more closely to Chakotay's side. The big guy just grinned at them all and nodded.
B'Elanna rolled her eyes and met Harry's. He smiled at her. "Okay," she said, "we'll spring for more popcorn."
"Thank you," said Chakotay.
Harry watched as B'Elanna's glance locked with her oldest friend's. She said almost softly, "Hey - that's what families are for, right? To take care of each other?"
Chakotay nodded slowly, then turned and looked directly at Harry, and at Greg. "And that's something that Tom and I wanted to say to you two especially. We know how difficult things are right now. We also know that we can't take the place of your blood families, but we'll always be here for you. What ever you need, just ask."
Harry couldn't speak, because he sure as hell didn't want to start crying again. Greg grabbed his hand and clutched it tightly, and thanked them. Harry looked at Tom and relaxed into their own eye lock. No words were necessary, so he just smiled, and silently promised him and his lover the best fucking wedding that was in his power to give.
Conversation started up again, B'Elanna replicated more popcorn and the vid was started. It was one of Harry's favorites, and as he felt the warmth of Greg's body pressed up against his own, he rested his head on that strong shoulder and prepared to laugh. The old-time world of men in drag, for some reason, was hilarious to them all. He almost rued that there were no more clubs like this Birdcage place, but he started to wonder what a holoprogram of one would be like. As he watched, he came to the conclusion that he'd never be able to program their personalities - they were too outlandish. He laughed very much needed laughter with his family as the evening wore on.
"I've been thinking about the wedding bands," Tom said.
They were lying in bed with just the nightlights on. Tom had rolled on his side and was propping his head up so he could see Chakotay clearly. The other man's fingers were now absently running through the curls on Tom's chest.
"What about them?"
"Well, wouldn't it be nice to make them a bit fancier? I like the simple gold," he reassured quickly, "but I thought it would look good to put a stone on them. Nothing fancy, just a stone." His heart rate increased against his will. He hated that this topic made him so nervous.
Chakotay's forehead was creasing. "What kind of stone? I'm not sure we'd have the rations..."
"Don't worry, I've got that covered. And don't laugh when I tell you what kind of stones, okay?"
"Why would I laugh?" Tom looked down his nose at him, and Chakotay grinned. "Okay, I promise, I won't laugh."
Tom cleared his throat. "I was thinking that we could each have a different stone. I could have a small onyx and you could have a small sapphire. To reflect the colors of our eyes." He waited.
Chakotay took his hand, rubbing a thumb over the back of it. "Spirits, Tom," he answered quietly, "I think that's a beautiful idea. I would be honored, thank you for thinking of it."
Relief mixed with an overwhelming rush of love made him almost lightheaded. "You're welcome," was all he could say. In the soft light, he looked deeply into those dark eyes that always held him steady. He couldn't wear a tattoo, but he could definitely brand himself. A black stone, surrounded by gold. His lover, on his finger, for the universe to see.
The wedding was postponed due to the crew's debilitating encounter with the war memorial. It was supposed to have taken place as soon as Chakotay returned from the survey mission. But the mood on the ship after the experience was one of vague depression and skittishness. Letters from home weren't due for another two weeks, and the captain was worried that no holoprograms were going to help her crew feel good again. At this point in their journey, every mental and emotional trauma seemed to compound the stress exponentially below decks.
So when Chakotay and Tom presented themselves to the captain with talk of putting off their ceremony for an indefinite period of time, she'd just about throttled them both. She almost blurted out the secret she was so desperate. Instead, she used her best negotiating skills to convince them to only wait a few days. After they left, saying they'd think about it, she brought in the big guns. She called Martis, who met her in the observation lounge, and accepted the assignment with gusto.
By the next morning, her First Officer and Chief Helmsman stood in front of her, asking that she perform their wedding ceremony two days from then. At the end of their shift rotation, so they'd have two days off as a sort of honeymoon. This time she almost kissed them both.
Hustling them out, she started to send messages fast and furiously to all parties involved. Two days, holodeck one, thirteen hundred hours. She got electronic high-fives in return.
At twelve hundred twenty hours on the day of the ceremony, Martis came out of her bedroom, in her best clothes with her crystal pendant fully visible. She'd just spoken with Neelix, he was spiffed up and had all the food ready to be transported. The door chimed and she ran to it, knowing it would be Noah.
Her heart swelled to see him, looking too handsome by far to be stuck on this ship in the middle of nowhere. He wore a dark brown tunic that nearly matched his eyes, and had threads of light blue in it. As the grooms were in their own room, she pulled him down for a lingering kiss and hug, reveling in the feel of him against her. She was almost looking forward to the party afterward, to the dancing and swaying in his arms for hours, as much as she was to the ceremony itself.
They broke apart when the bedroom door opened. She turned and nearly screamed. Her fathers were wearing their dress uniforms.
"What are you doing wearing those?" She asked almost harshly.
They looked at each other, slightly confused.
Chakotay answered, "These are our dress uniforms, honey, it's standard procedure for an on-ship wedding."
"Procedure?! This is a wedding, not an official function," she stated. "I thought you were going to make new tunics."
"We don't have any more rations," Tom said calmly. "It's no big deal."
No big deal? There was that phrase again. Her mind was working rapidly. She spun and walked Noah to the door, whispering to him in the corridor to get Harry and Greg over here, fast. He slapped his combadge as she walked back into her home.
"I think it is a big deal," she said to them, "I've got some rations left. How many will it take to make you two some nice clothes for today? You can't get married looking like Starfleet officials or something." She was stalling, afraid they'd decide all was ready and what the heck let's just get this over with early. They were becoming way too unpredictable about this wedding, way too laid back. She was completely convinced something was amiss. She and merely a few others knew how passionately they loved each other. Where was the passion now?
"Martis, this will be just fine," Chakotay soothed. "Are you ready?"
"No, I'm not. I'll be right back." She dashed to her bedroom, and called Noah. Harry and Greg were just getting off the 'lift. Running back into the living area, she ignored her fathers and opened the door to the three men, who trooped in together. All of them looked so good to her, in their fancy tunics, they nearly took her breath away.
"Hey, you two," Greg said smoothly, "this isn't formal, this is a wedding. We heard you were out of extra rations. Well, don't worry about any of that, we've got rations to spare, don't we?" He looked to his three cohorts. All of them nodded. "So, let's just get you some nice clothes for today..."
Martis watched, almost in awe, as Greg walked right to the replicator and started to access the databank. Tayo and Da were looking a little dumbfounded. Harry asked her what colors she thought they should wear. That she knew - deep maroon brocade for Tayo and sky blue brocade for Da. No question. The tunics were made and the two grooms were hustled into their bedroom by their best men. Martis grinned at Noah, who grinned back.
"They're stubborn," she said to him.
"Yeah, guess it runs in the family," he teased. He pulled her back into his arms and nuzzled her hair. She punched him gently in the side but, still grinning, kissed his chest. He told her that Harry had called Neelix, the captain, B'Elanna, Ken and even Tuvok. All had pooled their rations immediately, including him. Her heart swelled again. Her fathers were going to have the best wedding in the entire Delta Quadrant.
At twelve hundred fifty five hours the two grooms were being herded down the corridor toward holodeck one. They tried to protest, claiming the wedding was supposed to be taking place in the observation lounge, but they were told the site had been changed. It was still no big deal, just a small affair - Harry had only wanted to make the setting a little more wedding-like. Then the four people herding simply ignored the two men and continued to talk and maneuver them toward their destination.
Outside the holodeck, three of the four stepped back. Martis moved between them, taking their arms. Harry opened the doors, then took Greg's hand and stood in front of her. They led the way. Martis hesitated before the arch, her heart pounding.
"I love you," she said to Tayo and to Da. "We hope you like it."
With that, she walked them in. Music began. Both men gasped and she looked at them quickly. She did something she would never, ever confess. She listened. They were stunned, but they both loved it, and they each silently asked the other if it was okay, and when they knew it was, the passion poured out of them. She stopped listening, and tried to watch where she was going through the tears filling her eyes.
The waters of the Pacific were a deep aquamarine. Foaming whitecaps crashed gently into the rocky coastline far below them. The sun was shining in a sky the color of one groom's tunic. The grasses, and poppies, and indigo lupines swayed softly in the breeze. The seventy odd people sitting in chairs, along with seventy more around the ship, all held their breath.
"Well," said Kathryn Janeway impatiently, grinning, "I've pronounced you. So - kiss!"
Chakotay met Tom's eyes and stayed. The people around them faded. He could feel the weight and warmth of the gold on his finger. At that precise moment he absolutely knew that they'd done the right thing. The fire inside him was for but one man, and he'd said his vows to him with pride, in front of the Spirits and the entire crew. Their blessing had meant something.
Tom smiled, dipped his head and they kissed, wrapping their arms around each other, sanctifying their union for each other alone.
He didn't hear the cheers. He didn't see the people closest to them hugging, taking images, or crying. He tasted his husband and felt the man's strong, hard body next to his own. He gave Tom his heart and accepted the precious gift that was given in return.
The party was in full swing. The holodeck doors were opened so crew members could come and go as they pleased. The program was changed to an old fashioned, formal hall. The U.S.S. Voyager slowly orbited a deserted M-class planet, with a skeleton crew on the bridge and in engineering who were rotated in and out of their positions every hour, while music filled the entire ship.
Tom had his arms around his husband's neck, floating in time to the tune, inhaling the man's scent and thinking about bed. Chakotay was kissing his earlobe, making it very difficult to keep his eyes open and his mouth closed. He pulled back.
He put his left ring finger up to those full, amazing lips. "Kiss my ring, Chak," he said softly, "for luck."
Chakotay brought his left hand up, too, and pressed their palms together, kissing the onyx on Tom's finger. Tom kissed the sapphire.
"Now will we have good luck for ever after?" Chakotay asked.
"Yes," he answered.
"Thank you."
He wrapped his arms back around, molding himself to the body he adored, and held his left hand up, studying it. The ring looked good. Solid. Glowing. Dramatic. It belonged.
Partners were changed continuously. Tom danced with his daughter, twirling and dipping Martis while she laughed, and sighed against his shoulder.
"You made a hell of a wedding, honey," he said to her. "I don't know how to thank you."
"Oh, Da, I wasn't going to let you get away with that 'no big deal' stuff, you know. Not with Momma whispering in my ear."
His throat constricted just enough to make words impossible. He caressed her face and smiled at her. He swallowed. "Sometimes I don't know how to thank her, either."
"Just give me a big one, too, when it's my turn," she said softly. "A big, beautiful, lovely wedding, okay?"
"Okay. I promise. A lovely wedding, and we'll both walk you down the aisle, and hand you to Noah, and then you can dance the night away with him."
She sighed again, and smiled. "You're such a romantic."
While memories played out in his mind, of Kes and a giggling toddler, he danced.
Chakotay cut in on Harry dancing with Kathryn, and took his captain for a spin.
"So," he said, "was this your idea of a small, intimate wedding?"
She laughed. "You'd do better at that by hiding your dimple, sir," she teased. "A captain has some prerogatives. You know that."
"I do. So does a First Officer." He stepped back and bowed. "This makes twice I am indebted to you." He took her back into his arms and resumed the dance.
"Hmm, to have one's second be indebted is a rare thing. Will this change the command team dynamic?"
"Of course not. I'll still be the same person arguing with you and Tuvok. I'll just be married and even more blissfully happy, that's all. Tuvok may win more frequently, now."
She laughed again. "Then he will be indebted to Tom."
He laughed, too. "That's true. Don't tell either of them, okay? I want to stay blissful, if it's all the same to you."
"I give you my word."
He twirled her. "Seriously, Kathryn - thank you. The wedding was wonderful."
"Seriously," she said softly, "you are most welcome."
They danced.
Tom looked down on the man he used to only call his lover, and still would in the quiet of their bedroom. Chakotay was on his stomach, his bronze, delectable ass waiting for Tom and only Tom. He slid in and felt that beautiful moan vibrate through the man's body and into his own. He took a deep breath, trying not to shudder at the sensation of being where he was meant to be, just as much as he was meant to be under this man.
"I love you, Chakotay," he said, falling gently onto his back, kissing that black hair and then his ear.
"Spirits, Tom," was the whispered response.
Tom ran his hands down shoulders, then along upstretched arms, until he clasped their fingers together. He glanced up at their left hands and was momentarily overcome by the sight of gold on gold. His husband. Invoking the Spirits of Chakotay's ancestors didn't begin to cover it.
He moved, thrusting gently at first, then with more force, taking them along to the place where absolutely nothing existed but the two of them. A high place, tonight a place of grass, and cliffs, and ocean and music. I pledge my constancy and love until the day I die. Tonight, he would cry it out, to be heard by his husband, and the walls of their bedroom; to be absorbed by their pillows, along with his tears. He thrust, and thrust, and spilled himself inside a contracting channel, covering the strong throbbing body with every inch of his own, giving it all over to him. Letting the tears come. I pledge myself to you.
Martis wasn't immune to Naomi's tightened hold of her hand as they entered sick bay. She was a little nervous herself and wasn't afraid to admit it, either. Inside, four Borg children were being un-assimilated. Inside was a hive of activity. They stood against the wall and watched. The Doctor worked, and ordered, and ran calculations on the computer, while Samantha, Noah, and James assisted, and the captain hovered.
"Look, Naomi, it's true, there's a girl your age," she whispered.
Naomi merely nodded, her eyes wide.
She also saw a young man who might be close to her in age, who was being worked on by the man she loved. She shuddered involuntarily as an implant was removed from the boy's arm. How could the Borg do this to people, she wondered.
Kathryn watched, too, standing mostly by Noah's side as he worked on the oldest of the four. The one with whom she'd had to negotiate. Right at that moment, Harry was taking as much information from the cube's computer as he could - they'd decode it later, hopefully with these four young ones' help. Unfortunately, there'd been no trans-warp coils that were functioning, though they did manage to scrounge a few weapons and all of the technology possible. The cargo bay held it. The Doctor had requested four regeneration chambers, which they also had, just in case the transformation could not be completed.
She knew they'd been lucky so far, to have skirted direct contact a number of times. She, Chakotay and Tuvok had assumed the Borg weren't particularly interested in one small ship traveling through the Delta Quadrant when they had planets and civilizations to conquer. She'd often felt that Voyager was like a gnat, just small enough to ignore. She'd hoped so, anyway.
On the day of the Pathfinder data stream connection, Harry deliberately did not go to the mess hall. Neither did Greg, or any of the Maquis. They didn't see the point, so they kept working at their stations, or staying in their quarters, or walking the corridors, or using their holodeck time.
It was near the end of alpha shift and Harry was finishing up an analysis of a mining scan he'd just completed. Greg was working on a routine maintenance report of their weapons system. The lift doors opened but neither of them turned.
So when Neelix touched his elbow, and laid a PADD down in front of him, Harry's heart leapt.
"For you, Harry," his friend whispered.
He turned to him. "You sure it's for me?" His stomach was getting queasy.
Neelix grinned. "Yes, I'm sure - I've got one for Gregory, too."
Now his heart simply stopped. He thought he might faint. Neelix patted him on the back and asked him if he was all right. He did his best to reassure him that he was. Then he watched as the man he loved was given a PADD, too. Deep, dark eyes locked with his from meters away.
They couldn't leave, there was still another hour to go. They broke the eye lock and Harry tried to remember what he had been working on. He glanced to his right and Greg looked to be staring at his console, too, doing nothing.
"Harry," a soft voice broke into his trance. It was Chakotay. "Neelix just told me you and Greg got messages. I'm relieving you of duty. Go - go home. Read them. Call me and Tom later and tell us what happened."
"But, Commander..."
The man held up his hand. "No, Harry, there's nothing either of you are doing that is crucial. The captain will understand, I'll take care of it. Your friend is taking advantage of his position and sending you home."
His chest tightened. "Thank you," he replied.
Chakotay smiled fully and squeezed his shoulder then went to Greg. Harry shut down what he was working on, left a message for the beta shift Ops officer and with his heart thudding wildly in his chest, met his husband at the lift. They got in, but didn't say a word, just clasped hands tightly and held on to their PADDs.
Sitting on their couch, Harry and Greg decided to read them together, for moral support. They'd read the one from Harry's parents first, so Greg would know what to expect from his. With very unsteady fingers, Harry tapped the interface.
Dearest Harry,
We are so very sorry that we missed the data stream last month, and hope with all our hearts that you did not suffer too greatly. It was not deliberate, dearest Son, quite the contrary. Our plans to return to California hit an unavoidable snag in Barcelona and we got home hours too late. But as we know, the wheel of life turns as it should in all things. So we will tell our tale as expeditiously as we can. Yes, we found Gregory's family and they are delightful. Alicia and the boys have been here in Monterey for nearly two weeks now. We are having a wonderful visit. Alicia is a dear and has been telling us all about your husband. We fervently pray that we will have the chance to meet him some day. The boys are full of energy and so our house is no longer empty.
Greg let out a strangled cry. Harry, with tears streaming down his cheeks, turned and hugged him fiercely. They clutched each other and rocked for a minute or two until they were calmed enough to continue reading.
Once we'd arrived in Command HQ, hours late as we said, we were informed that Alicia's and the boys' letters, which we held in our hands, would not be sent. Gregory's name was not on the crew manifest that the ensign consulted. We then spoke with Admiral Paris, whom we were told was in charge of Pathfinder. He informed us that due to space limitations, only Starfleet crew members could receive letters. We tried to persuade him, but the admiral would not budge.
We have always remembered the warmth with which your captain spoke to Mother. The reassurances she gave have always comforted us. We decided to talk to her mother, as we knew she is an admiral's widow, and the publicity around her daughter's accomplishments presented her as a woman of character. Gretchen Janeway certainly is. She was appalled over our plight and arrived within a day, taking us to see Admiral Paris once again. There is no other word to describe what she did, but please think nothing bad of her actions. She coerced the admiral, telling him she would contact the news media if he did not let Gregory get his letters.
Bolstered by her resolve, we spoke up again. We asked him to do whatever was necessary to see that your fellow crew members, all of them, could be in contact with their loved ones. He was angry, but he gave in to our request. He also agreed to loosen the length limitations on the data coming from Starfleet, something we are taking full advantage of here. We returned home, contacted Alicia, and all of us wrote new letters.
So, our most precious Son, please know that we love you - that your news, though a shock at first, was not so terrible that we would turn our hearts from you. We could never do that. Thank you for telling us. Congratulations on your marriage and for sending the picture along. You and Gregory are framed and on our mantle. All of us greet you as the day begins and bless you when it ends. We have attached an image for the two of you to do the same. And Harry, consider your great-uncle Chin and his life.
Until next month and with much love, Father and Mother
"Oh my God," Harry said, almost too speechless to comment, "they took on Starfleet. And won."
"The picture, Har," Greg said quickly, "open the picture."
Harry did and they both lost all semblance of composure, crying and laughing freely. Looking back at them were Harry's parents standing with Alicia, Bernardo and Estevan, all beaming broadly, on the sunny stone terrace of Harry's Monterey home.
"Which is which," Harry asked, wiping his face.
Greg cleared his throat and tried to talk, but couldn't. Harry put an arm around his waist and pointed to the tallest one, who looked like Greg, with dark hair and those same piercing dark eyes. "Bernie?" Greg nodded. "He looks just like you."
"They're so tall..." His voice cracked and he cleared it again.
"Steve looks like a real combination of you and Alicia. I didn't picture her with light hair, though. They look terrific, Greg. But come on, you've got to read your letters!"
Greg nodded again and this time his fingers were quivering as he opened the PADD.
Dear Greg,
My hand is shaking as I write this! This is my second letter to you and I'm still so overcome that I don't know where to start. The first one was a babbling mess, which I know doesn't surprise you. My God, Gregory -- I fell to my knees and cried after Harry's parents called. I didn't believe them at first, I can tell you that. We were so sure that you had died. Even when we'd heard that some Starfleet ship had survived into the Delta Quadrant, and the rumors circulating about the possibility there were Maquis on board - it was so sketchy. And then the war got so bad, and everyone was dead or gone and I lost my contacts. Oh, Greg - there is so much to tell you! I've missed you terribly. But you sly devil, you! Married?! Harry is adorable, and from what John and Margaret Kim have told us he's brilliant, too. And a musician. Does he play for you and is it wonderful and romantic? You both look so head over heels happy, that I get teary whenever I look at the picture.
I know you want to know everything about Bernie and Steve, every grade they got, class they took, friend they had, and every bump and bruise they suffered. I promise, I will give you pieces of it with each letter. But Greg - they are beautiful. They grieved for you, I won't lie. They've missed their father. Johnny has been great and has done well by you, and our life in Barcelona is good. But they've needed you. And now they've got you again, and for that I send prayers of gratitude up each night.
I must tell you about your parents. They returned to Vega at the end of the war to help with rebuilding. I haven't heard from them in about eight months. Starfleet's been trying to contact them for two weeks but they haven't found them either. I'm sure they're fine, so try not to worry -- they were in good health when they left.
Monterey is gorgeous and John and Margaret have been wonderful to us. They've had two parties with all of Harry's relatives showing up which I admit was a bit overwhelming. But Bernie and Steve have been doted on, and taken to the mountains, and we all went and saw whales migrating, and all of it only shows me that you'll have a wonderful set of in-laws when you return. I don't know what else to say other than to go on and on and use up the entire data stream myself. So I'll end this one and start the next one that you'll get in a month. Please - give my very best to Harry - and a wet smack on the lips from me, too.
All my love, Alicia
"Oh, shit, Har, I can't take it," Greg said quietly. "They did think I was dead. What they all went through. Fuck...," he muttered. He lowered his head into his hands.
Harry moved his arm up around Greg's shoulders. "Come on, let's read what the boys have to say, you've waited too long."
Greg lifted his head and took a very deep breath.
Dear Dad,
We have to write this together because we don't have much room left. So I'm starting, since I'm older. Gee, Dad, but I don't know where to start. Mom took us out of school for a few weeks to come to Monterey, I don't think I'll miss much. I tried out for the basketball team but didn't make it - Johnny said if you'd been here coaching me I would have had a better chance - but don't feel bad cause you weren't. I remembered what you taught me, and the coach said I almost made it. So I'll be on the team next year for sure. I'm really happy that you got married. Harry's mom was showing us the P'i P'a instrument that she plays and that Harry played. I liked the sound it made, but Steve didn't. But oh, man, Dad, you should have seen the whales. That was unbelievable. They just swim up the coast here! It was great to see a picture of you. We're going to get a copy of it to take home with us. I'll write a better letter next month, when Stevie isn't hanging over my shoulder. I'm glad you're alive. Love, Bernie
Hi Dad! Wow, I can't believe you're going to get this in the Delta Quadrant. Can you tell me all about it? What kind of things have you seen? Is it a lot different than here? What was it like to get pulled there? Did your friends make it, too? Bernie says I shouldn't ask you so many questions, but I don't care what he says. I'm 13 now and he can't boss me around. I like school, I have some fun classes, like algebra and biology. I want to join astronomy club next year. Do you think I could do that and still get my studying done? Mom's not real keen about it. What do you think? I miss you Dad. Like Bernie says I'm glad you're alive too. I'm going to write a longer letter next time. It's really nice here. Harry's parents are great. I can't wait to meet him. I hope you come home again. At least we get to write! Love, Steve
"I can't believe it," said Greg quietly again, "they sound just like they always did. Sure enough older, but I can see them sitting and writing these, I can hear their voices, just as clear as anything." He turned inside Harry's arm and grabbed him tightly. "Oh, Harry, thank you."
That made three of them, because Harry couldn't believe it, either. Any of it. He knew he'd need to read and reread his parents' letter before it really sank in. And they looked good, hardly any older than when he'd said good-bye six years before. He hadn't lost his family, he'd just expanded it. They'd make the image as big as possible and then replicate a nice frame and hang it right over the couch. Where they could greet them all each morning and bless them each and every night.
Word spread rapidly among the Maquis that evening. Many of them had received letters; unexpected letters; very, very welcomed letters. Greg told them it had been Mr. and Mrs. Kim and the captain's mother who'd accomplished the task. He was so proud of the man he loved, he just couldn't keep it to himself.
Tom had also received something unexpected - a completely frank letter from his mother. She'd had a visit with Gretchen Janeway, too. Their talk, combined with Martis' forthrightness and the image she'd received, convinced her that Tom truly was in a good place. She asked that he please convince Chakotay to write to her directly. He got nothing from his father.
Harry paid a visit to his captain, to thank her mother, on behalf of his family. It was during their chat that one part of his parents' letter finally registered. His great-uncle Chin. He mentioned it to Kathryn, and they talked it over. His great-uncle's life had been spent in the company of two men - one when he was young and another when he was older. That man had lived with him until he'd died. Harry had always assumed they were simply two bachelors, sharing a living space, though Mr. Rose came to many family functions over the years. Harry felt like an idiot, but laughed to himself about it on the way back to his cabin.
B'Elanna found herself disappointed that she hadn't received anything from her long-gone father. This was a confusing and unwanted emotion so she firmly shoved it aside. But she was thrilled that Ken had heard from his parents, brother and niece. She knew the man she loved was a softy, but she'd been stunned to see tears rolling down his cheeks as he read the letters. They made hard, yet joyous love that night, bringing tears to her own eyes.
Martis received a long and chatty letter from her grandmother, which she thoroughly enjoyed reading. She'd decided that it was time to tell the woman about Noah and had already been composing her letter before the data stream had even arrived. There'd been a great image taken at the wedding of her and Noah, with Neelix and Da and Tayo. She could hardly wait to send it. It was framed and sitting on the ledge in her bedroom. Right next to her carved tree, which now had a softer sheen from caresses given the trunk for over two years.
B'Elanna sighed and tried to think of a good response. There was only one she could come up with. "Martis, how long you've been dating has nothing to do with it."
Martis gave her a little glare. "I know that. But good grief, four months should be long enough for me to know what I want, shouldn't it?"
"Well, yes, it should, under normal circumstance. But these aren't normal. He's the only man you've dated..."
She sighed. "Yeah, that's what the captain said, too."
"And she's a smart woman. However - I know you, and I trust your instincts, and your perceptions. I trust that what you say about Noah is the absolute truth. That he is completely in love with you. Hell, anyone can see it regardless of your abilities. So what exactly is it that's holding you back? Be honest."
Martis blushed and played with the fabric of her jumper. Then she bounced off the couch and paced, her long legs moving her quickly from side to side in front of B'Elanna. She closed her eyes to keep from getting dizzy. The couch gave way with a whomp and she opened them again.
"Okay," Martis said, "honestly? I'm just scared. What if I'm not good enough? He's been with other women - older women than me - who've had lots of experience, too. What if, what if he's disappointed. I think I'd curl up and die," she finished quietly.
Her chest tightened. "Oh, honey - everyone is afraid of that, when they're going to do it with someone who matters. And there isn't a damn thing you can do about it but just try and ignore it. Noah really loves you, he's not going to be disappointed making love with you."
"Everyone, huh?"
She reached over and clasped her hand. "Yes. Everyone."
The nightlights were enough for her to see by, and right then Martis was truly grateful for that. She liked the contrast of her hand against the warm brown of Noah's chest. She rested her head back down on his shoulder and let her smile blossom. So this was what it felt like, afterwards. This was almost as good as the during and that had been so incredibly wonderful she'd been amazed. He'd told her it was normal to cry, that she had nothing to be ashamed of. She believed him. She'd tried to explain how it was - to hear him and know him all the while he was making love to her, but he'd smiled that soft smile of his and said it was the same for him. Because he loved her. So she cried again, knowing also that neither cry was from hurt.
She snuggled a little closer and he tightened his hold. She kissed the skin under her cheek and just accepted that having his arms around her was the best thing in the universe. The safest place in her world. Which brought to mind her fathers and she started to chuckle quietly, she was so giddy.
"What's funny?" Noah asked, a little warily.
She thought she might as well spill it. "I was thinking about my dads, and the looks on their faces when I told them earlier. About coming here, to do this, with you."
He tensed every muscle in his body and she could only love that she felt it.
"You told them? Oh, my God," he moaned and put a hand over his face. "Oh, God," he muttered.
"Well, of course I told them, I'm always honest with them. We have an agreement." She scooted up a bit and kissed his neck.
"I'm almost afraid to ask - what did they say?" The words came out slowly, and she couldn't help herself, she started to giggle. He lifted his hand and looked so adorably vexed that her giggling continued. "Martis..."
She coughed in an attempt to stop. "I'm sorry, Noah, I'm not laughing at you. You're just so cute." She coughed again and bit the inside of her cheek. "What did they say? Well, they were a little shocked, true, in fact Da turned a couple of shades of red, but he tends to do that when things throw him. But they recovered pretty well. They told me to take care of myself, and that if I had any questions I could ask, and that if I needed to talk, afterwards, I could wake them. But that was mostly Tayo. Da just kept nodding. His mouth opened a few times, but nothing came out. That's what I was laughing about, remembering. And you know how much I love them - they were just so... So huggable about the whole thing." She shook her head and chuckled.
Noah moaned again and closed his eyes.
"Noah," she said. He opened them. "They're fine. They adore you. They love me and want me to be happy. And I am."
"But they need to trust me. How will they let you marry me if they don't?"
Her heart leapt. "You haven't asked me to marry you," she stated.
He stared at her, then narrowed his eyes. He rolled her onto her back, keeping one arm under her shoulders as he rested on his side. "You're right, I haven't formally asked you. And this isn't exactly the setting I'd envisioned, and we've talked about the subject and what we want of our future, so I've made assumptions, but I've never come right out and asked." He stroked her face and traced the point on the tip of her ear. "So - Martis Paris, will you please marry me?"
"Yes, Noah Lessing, I will. Of course I will." She'd briefly thought about making him sweat a bit, but she loved him far too much. As he leaned in and kissed her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, thoughts of the hell her fathers had gone through flashed in her mind. Honesty was always best. She didn't have enough time to do anything but be truthful. She needed every minute of the next sixteen years to be filled with Noah, and her family, and the children that she desperately wanted. Every minute.