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“You can’t do that to her. She’s my godmother. She’s your friend! Her staying here like this isn’t right.”
B’Elanna was lost for words. Miral had just come back from a one-year deep space mission and they were already clashing?
“I’m going to get myself a cup of coffee while you explain”, Kathryn said, her eyes dancing.
Great. Thanks a lot, Kathryn.
“What’s there to explain?” Miral crossed her arms over her chest, looking around at the busy lounge room disapprovingly. “It’s obvious she’s staying here because you asked her, but you didn’t exactly roll out the welcoming mat. She could have her pick of any Starfleet accomodation instead. She’s an admiral, after all.”
“Recently retired.” B’Elanna pinched the bridge of her nose, a gesture that came naturally now. Why was it so hard to just…tell her?
“And? Miral said.
B’Elanna sat on the couch. It was one of those times when she missed Tom’s laughter, his warmth and ways with Miral. Having two Klingons under one roof hadn’t always been easy for him, but he’d taken on the task in his stride and without a complaint. Except it had never been a task for him. He’d loved them both dearly.
But this wasn’t about Tom. This was about Kathryn’s circumstances.
Their circumstances.
She crossed her hands in her lap. “After Chakotay’s death, it was hard for Kathryn. Kol was there of course, but he’s got his family on Dorvan. When he left soon after you, she found herself alone in that big house in the hills.”
Their former crew were always welcomed at Chakotay and Kathryn’s home. There’d been lazy summer evenings with kids from the latest visitors jumping in the massive swimming pool, an Emergency Safety Hologram always on duty. A few weddings too, the groom or bride marrying into Voyager’s extended family wide-eyed at being allowed within the walls of the famous couple’s home. Long evenings debating the latest space discoveries or the new class of starships.
B’Elanna’s eyes drifted to the holopicture on the table, Tom and a younger Miral smiling in the bright sun with Janeway's garden spread behind them. For her, that house had been a refuge when Voyager’s family had lost one of their own and she had lost her husband. Bless Kathryn for leading the search mission which had retrieved Tom’s body when he had disappeared at the helm of a new shuttle prototype, and Chakotay for being the shoulder she could lean on when the days got too difficult.
Miral followed her mother’s gaze to the photo. Sitting down, she took B’Elanna’s hand in hers. The last time she’d been at the Janeway’s place had been for Chakotay’s funeral a little over a year ago. The loss of whom she’d come to think of as a second father had been a deep shock, but Kathryn had insisted she went on her first deep-space mission. “He wouldn’t have wanted you to put your dreams on hold for him,” she’d said with a melancholy smile, straightening the shiny pip on her collar. “Make him proud.”
And she had, earning a medal of commendation within a few weeks of duty. One promotion later, and there was already another mission awaiting her at the end of a month’s leave. She looked forward to returning to space. Coming back to Earth had left a strange feeling in her mind and heart. As if the stars pulled at her now that she’d truly tasted their beauty and danger.
But today was not about her. Something wasn’t right, and she would get to the bottom of this. “So, you invited Auntie Kathryn here?”
“She’s not a guest. She lives here.”
Well, Kathryn sure deserved better than sharing a house that wasn’t that much bigger than the starship quarters she’d grown up in when she was little.
“For how long?” She had a strong feeling she was missing something.
“For as long as we want. B’Elanna and I bought this house together,” Kathryn said as she lowered herself on the couch. “Two months ago.”
“Ah,” Miral said. “So why do you sleep on the couch then?” she asked, more confused than ever.
Kathryn’s hand flew to cover her mug, the coffee sloshing over the rim while B’Elanna leaned her head back against the top of the couch. “Give me strength,” she moaned, and Miral’s annoyance returned five-fold.
“What exactly did you tell Miral in your personal messages?” Kathryn asked B’Elanna with an amused tone.
“That I had found a house with one bedroom, two studies and a small garden. And a resident cat.”
Mystified, Miral glanced at the open door off the lounge room.
One bedroom with one large-size bed, two pillows, a couple of books on the left-hand bedside table and a mountain of padds clad in rugged cases on the other.
“Oh,” she said, the pieces of the puzzle finally coming together. “Oh,” she repeated, her outburst dissipating as fast as it had arisen.
Kathryn squeezed Miral’s hand. She had made light of the young woman’s confusion, but it wasn’t fair on her. B’Elanna had not planned to keep their relationship a secret as much as they had not wanted to have it in the open. It was nobody’s business after all.
Except for Miral. And Kol. She needed to tell him too.
She put her cup down, her attention fully on Miral. “After the funeral, B’Elanna visited every day, insisting on keeping an eye on me.”
“I was concerned about you. I knew you were going to lose yourself in your job without Chakotay to force you to breathe from time to time,” B’Elanna remonstrated.
“And you were right. It was good to have somebody comfortable and bossy enough around me to remind me to eat and sleep. You helped me in the depth of my grief and got me to enjoy the small things again, one by one. A walk in the garden. Reading a book. Watching a sunset together from the terrace. But that house was too big. Too full of memories.”
“After a few months, I suggested we could share something smaller,” B’Elanna continued.
Kathryn smiled at the recollection of that long night when they had bared their soul, fears and hopes to each other. “We sat down and talked, one day. Imagine your mother conceding she needed me.”
“As if a Starfleet admiral would ever confess to the same,” B’Elanna chuckled quietly.
“I had to sell my house first!”
Eyes tearing up, Miral put her arms around the two women and brought them into a crushing embrace, silencing them with a kiss on their foreheads. “Thank you for telling me. I know you don’t need my approval, but it’s great you are together.”
The two strongest persons she had ever known, whose resolve and courage had guided her since she’d been born, and, she hoped, would continue to inspire her for a very long time, held her tight in return, their hands entwined.
A grin on her face, Miral let go of them and moved to the small kitchen to make three raktajinos. A stubborn former admiral and a half-Klingon fleet engineer. Sparks would fly well into the evening.
While waiting for the top-of-the-range coffee machine to start, she lifted her head at the stars outside the window. If Tom and Chakotay were watching, they too would be proud of those two women for choosing life and love over pain and loneliness.
She returned to the lounge room with three mugs on a tray.