The BLTS Archive - Awakening
by Jennifer Presley (jlpresley@aol.com)

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Disclaimer: Paramount owns the best parts of this, the rest is mine.

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Peaceful. She looks so peaceful when she sleeps. The hardened mask of
the Captain disappears, and Kathryn is left.

I move slightly, not wanting to wake her . We had been going over
reports from our last run-in with the Hirogen, and had finished about
half of them when she started to drift off. I wanted to finish them in
the morning, but she doesn't like leaving work undone. Not my Kathryn,
my Captain.

My...mine. Two small words that imply a relationship that doesn't
exist, except in my dreams. I understand her reluctance, even though I
do not share it. But I don't want to push her, because I know that
that is the quickest way to make her angry. Therefore, I choose to
wait for her to realize how much I love her, content to show it in my
actions, in my words.

Gently, I brush a stray lock of hair off her face. She has such
beautiful hair. I was stunned when she cut it. I hadn't even known she
was going to do it, or had even been thinking about it. (Why should
I?) Just one night, she comes sauntering into Sandrine's, her freshly
shorn locks gleaming in the reduced lighting. B'El told me later I was
staring, my jaw somewhere down by my feet. She knew what it would do
to me, and she walked up to me, and smiled softly.

"What do you think?"

I couldn't answer her for a moment. She frowned slightly, and I could
see the hurt in her gaze even though she tried to hide it. Finally I
pulled myself together.

"You look beautiful." And she did. Even though the long hair that I
had longed to touch again was gone, she still looked beautiful. Her
eyes lit up when I answered truthfully, and she handed me a piece of
cloth, folded around something and tied with a ribbon. Then she left,
not once looking back at me.

Later, when I returned to my quarters, I opened the small package.
Inside was a length of her hair, braided and fastened with two small
bows of leather. Speechless, I held it to my nose and inhaled the
scent of it, before carefully tucking the precious gift into my
medicine bundle where it would be safe. It's still there, and I have
weaned myself from it. Now I only take it out to look at and to smell
only once or twice a day.

She twitches suddenly in her sleep, then lets out a small sigh.
Freezing, I hold my breath until she settles back down. Her head is on
my shoulder, her left hand is fisted and resting on my thigh. She
still clutches the PADD she was reading in her right hand, trapped
between our bodies. She is comfortable, and so am I. Even though my
right shoulder and arm have long since joined her in slumber, the
unexpected pleasure of being so close to her is enough to overwhelm my
physical discomfort.

I should go before she awakens. Carry her to her bed and quietly leave
her quarters, returning to my solitary bed to sleep alone. I can't. I
won't.

Carefully, I kick off my boots, then ease down so I'm lying on the
couch and she's nestled between my body and the cushions. I breathe
deeply, rejoicing in the moment. It feels so good, so right. I drift
off to sleep, feeling peaceful.

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A long forgotten warmth greets me when I awaken. The feeling of
another body pressed against mine. Another's heartbeat drumming gently
against my cheek. I stretch, then open my eyes. I was sleeping on my
First Officer.

My arms are embracing him, my left leg trapped between his. Strangely,
I don't mind this surprise. I've been alone so long. That's not true.
I haven't been alone. He's been by my side for four years.

Even now, I still remember that night he confessed his love for me,
hidden as it was in a supposed myth of his people. I knew better
though. I could see it for the expression it was, of his feelings for
me. And I knew then that I loved him, deeper and stronger than I had
ever loved before. More than I had loved Justin, or Mark. And now that
I know Mark has moved on, the legend of the Angry Warrior has been
uppermost on my mind.

Yet, I haven't acted on these feelings. We have been through so much
over the past few months, and after our argument over the Borg, I
thought he had stopped loving me. Only recently has the tension seemed
to leave our interactions.

It was....after I cut my hair. That look on his face when I entered
Sandrine's. I'll never forget the surprise, or the loss I could see in
his expression. It was only there for an instant, but I knew it for
what it was. I had known he would have that reaction, which is why I
saved some of my hair for him. He never said anything to me about it,
but that's okay. I know how much it means to him.

He stirs, and I look up at his face. He's the most handsome man I have
ever seen. His face so usually solemn, except when he smiles. And when
he gives me his special smile, that one he saves for me, I fall in
love with him again. It lights up his face, brings a twinkle to his
eye. And who could forget about those dimples? (Certainly not me.)

He suddenly takes a deep breath, and his eyes open. He blinks rapidly,
and then his eyes focus on my face. I can see a brief flash of
trepidation, but as I smile at him, it fades into a look of love. I
know an answering look is on mine.

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The End