The BLTS Archive- 0200: In the Airponics Bay by monkee (wiecek@earthlink.net) --- Author's Notes: Consider this a kind of AU '0200, At the Night Owl.' Because I really am a J/C sap at heart. --- A nagging concern for Kathryn was keeping Chakotay awake. Finally he got up, got dressed, and went looking for her. She'd received a personal message in the data stream today, and had been distracted ever since. When he'd brought it up, she'd changed the subject, and since he didn't want to pry, he just dropped it. But now he wondered - was she all right? Had she gotten some bad news about her family or something? He decided he should perhaps have pushed a little harder - maybe she really needed a friend. He had to ask the computer, but he finally found her in the airponics bay, of all places. While he often went there to relax, he was pretty sure she never did. When he walked in, though, she was sitting on the bench that Neelix had set up with her legs curled under her, sipping at a cup of coffee. She looked a little surprised to see him, but she smiled and said hello, and he didn't feel like he was intruding. He sat down beside her. "You're up late," he observed. "Mmm-hmm," she replied, non-committally. She was staring absently at the tangled green vines on the stand in front of them. "You know," she said, "this is the first time I've ever come in here just to sit. It's nice in here. It reminds me of Kes. I was just thinking of a conversation she and I once had." She fell silent and continued to gaze at the plants. She didn't seem inclined to elaborate. After a few moments, he cleared his throat. "Are you all right? You've been a little quiet ever since we downloaded that data stream this morning." She sighed, then turned to look at him. "I'm fine," she said, "just a little...confused. I got another message from Mark, the man I was engaged to..." "I know who Mark is, Kathryn," he said. His voice was even enough, but the mention of Mark's name had put a knot in his stomach instantly. She looked over at him in surprise when he interrupted, but then just nodded. "What did he say?" he asked. She frowned. "It was a very strange message," she said. "He told me a little about my dog, a little about my sister, a little about his work, then he just happened to throw in that 'oh, by the way, he was divorced now.'" He opened his mouth, closed it, pursed his lips, and nodded. Calm. He had to stay calm. "How do you feel about that?" he asked. Calmly. An expression of tolerant amusement flickered across her face at his careful, probing, psychologically sound question. But she gave it some thought, then answered. "Honestly? A little guilty, I think," she said. "I'm sure finding out I was alive had to have put a strain on their relationship." He chuckled - more to break his own tension than anything else. "Well," he said, "it's hardly your fault that you're still alive." She laughed. "That's true," she agreed. Her smile faded. "I don't know," she said. "He didn't come right out and ask it, but I sensed a question in that message. What could he be thinking, though? We're still forty years from home. Does he honestly think that he and I can have a future together? It's crazy!" His mind was reeling at this turn of events, but he forced himself to be cautious. He was her friend. He needed to help her work through this, not impose his own biased views. "He knows you pretty well, Kathryn," he said, gently. "Maybe he's banking on you getting home a lot sooner. And we might, after all. You never know." She screwed up her face, skeptically. "I hope we do, but I would never assume such a thing." He took a deep breath, and plunged on. This conversation was killing him. "For the sake of argument," he said, "assume we do. If we found a wormhole tomorrow, and wound up orbiting earth by dinnertime, what would you do about him?" She let out a wry snort at the unlikely scenario, and rolled her eyes, but considered the question. "I don't have any idea!" she finally said, exasperated. "How could I know?" She stood, abruptly, and paced back and forth once in front of him. Then she turned and pointed at him - not angrily, but emphatically. "I'm not the same person I was. I don't think I'll ever be the same again." "No," he agreed. "None of us will be. You can't live through something this extraordinary without being changed." She sighed, and sat back down. "When I think back to before all this started...it seems like another person's life. I mean, I actually used to think about my 'career,' Chakotay. When I was on earth, I used to go to all the right parties, and eat out at restaurants, and travel with Mark, and it was all so...normal. I can't imagine ever being like that again. Ever." She stopped, and he saw her eyes fill with tears. He forced himself to sit in sympathetic silence. "And Mark," she said, rubbing her forehead, and getting her breathing back under control. "I just...I don't know. I think I let go of him a long time ago. Before I even got his first message, honestly. I got used to the idea that he just wasn't part of my life anymore, and I...moved on. I had to. If we got back tomorrow, going back to him would just feel...all wrong. I've never been very good at going back." She leaned back on the bench and closed her eyes, some of the tension draining away. "And really," she said, after a moment, "he's better off without me." "I wouldn't say that," Chakotay said. "No, he is," she said. "He doesn't understand, but he probably wouldn't be in love with the woman I've become. And that's all right, because frankly, I don't think I love him either. Or I do love him - I'll always love him, really - but it's different now." She opened her eyes again, and turned to look at him. He knew she was finished now - all talked out. She seemed relieved, too, and looked better than she had all day. She smiled, and said, "Thank you for coming here, Chakotay, when you should be asleep. I think I really needed to talk to someone about this." "That's okay," he said. "That's what friends are for, right?" Her eyes filled again, and she gazed at him affectionately. "I've never had a friend like you," she said, softly. He reached for her, and gently lifted her chin with his hand. He meant to just say goodnight, but found himself drawn towards her. He kissed her, softly, on the lips, and didn't pull away. She didn't either, and, in fact, responded to him, subtly - moving her lips over his, and reaching up to touch his face, too. It wasn't an aggressive or passionate kiss, but it was...nice. They pulled apart slowly, opening their eyes, staying in contact. He kept his hand on her face. She took a breath, and opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her with a thumb on her lips and a whispered 'No.' He didn't want to talk about this. Talking about it would make it an issue, and he would rather that it remain a tenuous promise - that one day, perhaps, when circumstances had changed, their friendship might deepen into something else. She nodded, understanding. "Goodnight, Kathryn," he said, quietly. "Sleep well." "You, too," she replied, and he knew they were both thinking of New Earth, and their shelter, and their time together there. He stood and walked away, smiling to himself. Before the door closed behind him, he sneaked a last glance in her direction. She was looking at the plants, again. And she was smiling, too. --- The End