Just a way-off canon, one-off, what-if with Tom and Kate. As usual, anything Voyager related belongs to CBS these days. This is for entertainment value only, and I certainly make no money at this.

xxx

Kathryn ...

I sweep my Sims beacon around the cavern. "There's a small chamber over there," I call to Seven. "I'm going to take some readings. Call when you find something."

The caverns on Quistau held the promise of a large supply of dilithium — enough to fuel our power needs for many light years. But there's a complication: Veins of a crystal-like substance, light purple in color, that runs through the walls. We have no idea what it is, if it will interfere with mining, or contaminate the dilithium. Thus, half the crew is down here taking readings and samples.

I scan a vein of the crystal. Interesting; it lights up. But I'm not prepared for the physical blow that comes out of nowhere ...

I sit up and shake my head. Nothing seems broken, and I grab the edge of the desk to pull myself up.

Wait … desk!?

This is no cavern. I appear to be in an office … my office, I surmise … in Starfleet Headquarters. This has to be one of the admiralty offices; the sweep of windows offers a spectacular view of the city lights that melt into the darkness of the Bay.

I spin around to get my bearings … and catch sight of myself in a mirror.

I gasp at the image: Damn, I'm old. My hair has turned white, my face is lined. Seventies? Past 80? I'm not sure. My uniform looks nothing like what I wear or those I see during the briefings with Starfleet.

An image on the desk catches my attention. Phoebe. My baby sister's hair is gray, her face is lined, too. She's with an older version of her husband. As for the other adults and youngsters … Children? Grandchildren? Great-grands? Next to it, another image; this one of my parents, probably taken a year or so before Daddy …

I turn away … on the credenza sits another group of images. Members of my crew — Harry, Tuvok, Sam Wildman — all with their families.

I suddenly realize that there are no images of me with anyone. No images of someone who might be special to me. Apparently, I no longer have … or never had ... anyone waiting at home. Is that why I'm in the office at this hour?

Just as quickly, the vision passes, and I'm gasping on the cavern floor.

"Captain!" Seven calls. "On my way," I manage as I get up and shake myself.

Seven's taking readings as Chakotay stands nearby. She launches into her explanation without preamble, and I just nod my understanding.

"Captain," Chakotay asks, "did you find anything in your readings?"

"Nothing I could make sense out of," I say. "Think I'll head back to the ship."

I turn to leave ... the force hits again …

This time I'm on a starship, in quarters, I think. I'm sitting in front of a vid terminal, face buried in my hands. When I look up, the visage reflected in the screen isn't as old as the last one. Early to mid-50s, I'm guessing.

"Mom ..." There's a little boy in the doorway, 9 or 10 years old. Dark hair and eyes … the spitting image of Chakotay. "You and Papa were arguing again, weren't you?"

I sigh. "I'm sorry, EJ," And how do I know his name? "I didn't want you to hear that."

The boy just shrugs. Apparently, this isn't the first argument he'd heard. I hold out my hand, and he comes over to lean against me as I hug him.

"You need to spend some time with your Papa, you know. He loves you and wants to see you. And Dorvan is part of your heritage; we both want you to know about that."

"I hate it there," the boy says simply. "The other kids make fun of me. And I don't care about vision quests."

"I didn't realize that was still happening. I'll talk to your Papa," I promise.

He gives me a searching look. "Mom, did you and Papa ever love each other?"

The question shocks me. He's much too young to wonder that. He shrugs again. "All you do is yell at each other."

My heart sinks; perhaps it's time for another round of counseling. At least I should give him an honest answer. "Yes, we did. Very much, which is why we married and had you." I shake my head. "But we didn't want the same things. We tried, but we couldn't make it work."

"Captain! Captain!"

Chakotay's voice is accompanied by someone shaking my shoulders. I snap out of the vision to see him looking at me with alarm.

"Are you all right? You collapsed … it was like you weren't here."

"I wasn't," I admit.

He lifts me to my feet. "Let's get you out of here."

xxx

"I don't see anything wrong," Tom says as he scans me. "And you're the only one who seems to be affected."

"Lucky me," I murmur.

He looks at me closely, and I see the concern in those impossibly blue eyes. "What kind of vision did you have?"

I think quickly. "I was in San Francisco; in an office at Headquarters." At least that's the truth.

Chakotay's interest is piqued. "Could this be some kind of portal?"

"If it is, it will place us 40 years into the future," I say… or 10.

"Whoa," Tom says. "Think I'll pass on that." He shakes his head. "I'll send these to the Doc, but he'll want a medical tricorder scan of those crystals." He places a hand on my shoulder. "You should stay until we're sure you're OK. I don't want to take a chance with a transporter."

"All right, Paris," Chakotay sighs. "You and B'Elanna get some scans. And be careful."

xxx

Tom ...

"They appear to be inert," B'Elanna says as she scans the crystals. "I wouldn't stand too close, though."

"No kidding," I mutter as I scan the wall. "Look at that," I say as the crystal lights up ….

xxx

I come to on the floor of a house … where, I don't know. What I do know that B'Elanna is standing over me, screaming Klingon curses.

"Hey, hey, take it easy," I say, holding up a hand. "It was an accident. We were cleaning it up."

"I asked you to watch the kids, but apparently you're too busy playing with your targ shit holograms. They've wrecked the house, you petaQ!" Behind her, I see two children of Klingon/human heritage in a doorway. The oldest one, a girl, storms out. "Leave Daddy alone!" she screams.

The two get into a shouting match, which ends when B'Elanna leaves, slamming the door behind her. "Michael, get some ice," the girl tells her brother. "It's OK, Daddy," she says as she kneels next to me. I put my hand to my mouth, and I'm surprised by the blood.

"Tom! Kahless! Tom, can you hear me?"

I manage to sit up, and recoil as B'Elanna touches my shoulder.

She frowns. "Easy there, flyboy. Whatever's in that crystal got you, too."

xxx

Kathryn ...

"Oh, no" I breathe as B'Elanna helps a shaky Tom into the shuttle.

"Captain, can you send Tom's tricorder readings to the Doctor? I need to talk to Chakotay," B'Elanna asks. I nod my assent, and B'Elanna pats Tom's shoulder before she leaves.

"Did the crystal light up when you scanned it?" I ask.

"Yeah, then it was like I was hit by a meteor. When I came to, I was somewhere else. In the future. Not somewhere I wanted to be," he says.

"I understand," I say as I start to pat his arm.

Again … the blow is unexpected. We both recoil as if we'd reached into a power conduit. Another vision … but a very different one. I'm with Tom, interacting with him. But at the same time, I'm aware of being in the shuttle, watching his reactions. They mirror mine: shock, followed by happiness … then desire.

When it was over, we both manage to sit up. "You all right?" Tom asks breathlessly.

"Yes," I say, nodding. "You?"

"I'm OK. Did you see ..."

His question is interrupted by Chakotay's arrival. "Seven's found a site where the dilithium isn't mixed with these crystals," he announces. "I suggest we move our operations over there."

"Do it," I tell him.

xxx

The dilithium was successfully mined, and Voyager's journey continued. No one was surprised when, a few weeks later, Tom and B'Elanna broke up after the Antarian Rally; it's probably why Tom seems rather preoccupied.

And no one's noticed that Chakotay and I are seldom seen together off the Bridge these days, or that I let my hand linger a bit longer on Tom's shoulder when I stop at the helm.

xxx

At the chime, I look up from my book. It's a bit late for company, but I call for my visitor to enter.

It's Tom. He stands inside the door, hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking unusually uncertain.

"Well, hello," I say warmly, waving him to the couch. "Can I get you anything?"

He shakes his head and sits next to me, perched on the edge of the cushion. "I've .. uh ... wanted to talk to you about something."

"Oh?" Though I have a good idea ...

"On Quistau, we saw the same vision, didn't we?"

"I think so," I agree.

He shifts, a bit uncomfortable. "We were at a big house … with a bunch of kids … they were running around and laughing. And somehow I knew they were our kids."

I nod. "Two boys and two girls. All of them with light red hair and blue eyes just like yours."

He grins sheepishly. "And we were sitting on a porch swing and talking and laughing as we watched the kids. And I remember being so completely happy … "

"I remember the same thing … being happy and at peace."

He looks down and swallows. "You saw something else, too, didn't you?" I ask softly.

He nods. "We were in a bedroom. It was late afternoon, the sun was streaming in, and we were making love."

"I could feel the sun … and I could feel you." I quirk a grin. "And I do have to say that you felt pretty damn good." I leave out that this particular scene has fueled my fantasies for several weeks now

I can see something change in his eyes. "And you felt incredible," he whispers. "I didn't want it to end."

"Well, now we know how we got those children," I tease, and his answering look shifts something within me.

We fall quiet for a moment. "You know, while that vision was lovely, it isn't necessarily a prediction of the future, no more than the other ones we saw," I caution.

"But what if it's a possibility?" he asks urgently.

Not that I don't like the idea, but … "Tom, we're nowhere near having that kind of relationship … I'm in no position to have …."

"Kathryn," he says gently. "I can't stop thinking about this. We were the only ones to have visions. And we shared a vision … one in which we were very good together. That has to mean something." He shakes his head. "I could see your reactions. I know you felt the same as I did."

"I did," I admit.

We fall quiet for another moment and he begins to look apprehensive. Finally, I gently cup his face.

"There's something I need to know," I say. "Did this shared vision cause you to break up with B'Elanna?"

At first, he seemed to struggle with the response. "Not directly," he finally says to my raised eyebrow.

"First off," he says as he settles back on the couch. "B'Elanna broke up with me. I … I am partly to blame. I didn't bother to check with her when I entered that rally. I guess that was the last straw." He gives me a sheepish look. "I promise to be better about those things.

"But I let her go because of the first vision I had … the one in the cavern." He tells me then what he experienced, and frankly, the description makes me sick.

"I'm so sorry," I say, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

"It scared me that those kids were seeing the fights and that they were getting involved. I don't know if I'd make a good father, but there's no way I'd want that life for my kids."

"Well, that concern tells me you'd make a pretty good dad," I say softly, remembering a sad little boy who was caught between his parents' worlds.

He smiles gratefully and takes my hand in both of his.

"Can we give this a try?" he whispers. "Maybe I'm being too forward, but I don't want to live with regrets … wondering if that vision was true for us."

"After everything that's happened between us?"

"Especially after everything that's happened between us."

"You know," I tease, "this sounds a bit like an arranged marriage."

He laughs at that. "It does, doesn't it?" I'm not sure how he feels, but on one level, this doesn't bother me at all.

"How about this," he says, "we spend time together, we talk, have some fun and let things develop. We'll take it slow."

"Fun, eh?"

My tone is a bit flat, and he frowns with concern. "Yeah … we could try out my new holodeck program."

Visions of Captain Proton II dance through my head. "What would that be?"

"A motorcycle ride up the old Pacific Coast. I put in a few hairpin turns, but I can take them out if you're squeamish. "And," he continues, "there's always swimming, or sailing, or skiing … or we could stay in and watch a movie."

It did sound nice. Outside of a game or two of Velocity, work has been my constant companion.

"You know, we'd have to be discreet."

He just gives me a mischievous grin. "Oh, I think we can handle that. And it wouldn't hurt for us to join a group once in a while … keeps the gossips off-balance."

I raise an eyebrow. "Sounds like you have this all planned out."

"Not really, but I'm pretty good at winging it," he quips, then squeezes my hand. "So how about it? I have holodeck time booked tomorrow … want to take a motorcycle ride?"

The idea makes me laugh. "Sure, but take it easy with those hairpin turns."

"Done," he agrees. "So we have a date?"

"Yes, we do," I say, and impulsively lean in to kiss him.