Chapter Text
As soon as Kathryn’s memories were fully restored, she invited me to resume our weekly dinners. Sitting in her quarters, even as I waited for my jealousy of Jaffen to subside, I was pained by the grief that hadn’t yet left her eyes.
I’d fallen for her the day we met. And on New Earth, after Tuvok commed us with our thirty-hour deadline, she admitted that she’d developed feelings for me. The rest of that day was everything I’d ever wanted, and I wanted it to last forever, but right before we beamed back aboard, she insisted she could never be romantically involved with a subordinate, even if we were out here for seventy more years. And that was the end of it. Except it wasn’t, not for me. And maybe not for her, either, but we never spoke about those feelings ever again. I wasn’t sure how she expected me to find companionship, since everyone else on the ship was subordinate to me, too, but that was my problem, not hers. I’d promised to help carry her burdens, not create more.
So as she silently mourned the love she’d left on Quarra, I didn’t mention my feelings. Instead, I described how the crew was getting back to work, catching up on diagnostics, inventorying supplies, updating star charts, visiting the holodecks again, helping each other to move past this latest trauma, getting back to normal, or, at least, Voyager normal.
“I’m glad they’re doing all right,” she sighed in relief.
“How are you doing, Kathryn?” I chanced.
“Never better.”
We both laughed. It was her way of shutting down that line of conversation.
I tried a different tactic. “I’m putting together a team to renovate Airponics. It hasn’t been operating at its full potential since Kes left.”
“That’s a great idea.”
“I was thinking of creating some immersive natural areas, and an arboretum.”
She gave me her sly half-smile. “Chakotay, I’d like to be on the team.”
“I thought you might.” She could tell I was hoping to cheer her up, and I was glad she didn’t mind.
“I have the perfect book for you.” She went to her bookshelf, pulled a large tome I’d never seen off the bottom shelf, and placed it in my hands. Its cover featured several colorful holoimages of Earth flowers.
“The Terran Encyclopedia of Flowering Plants.”
“My sister gave it to me a long time ago. She said I should look at it whenever I miss our mother’s garden.”
I flipped through the pages. Each entry described how to care for each plant, and which species to plant together to optimize soil sustainability. I looked up at her, beaming. “What a thoughtful gift! This would actually be very helpful for our project.”
She smiled back. “Wonderful! I’ll look forward to my next arboretum duty shift.”
I said goodnight shortly afterward and was content to have ended our evening on a happy note.
Later, in my quarters, I opened the book again and found, tucked into the “Forget-Me-Not” entry, a handwritten personal log entry, several pages long. I immediately realized I shouldn’t read it, and began to return it to its place in the book, but my eyes fell upon the phrase “fall in love,” and I couldn’t resist reading the rest.