Disclaimer: What do you want me to say? I am infringing and I did intend to do it, so shoot me. Yeah, and that song is a really old Irish one, so nobody owns it personally. (And dangit, it's got the wrong name. Oh well.)

Chapter Twenty

I'll take you home again, Kathleen

Across the ocean wild and wide

To where your heart has ever been . . .

The door buzzed politely. He ignored it, he was busy sorting through a pile of myriad things -reports, requests, demands etc. He was unaccountably glad that Kathryn Janeway had turned down her promotion. She'd waste away doing this sort of thing. The problem was, now she was too self-sufficient. She had proven that she didn't need Starfleet, and probably would again. He was proud of her, even if she was turning into somewhat of a wildcard.

He hoped his son had learned a thing or three thousand from her before she had turned strange. He didn't understand her Voyager crew either, they seemed to be a breed unto themselves. People had gone on deep space missions before -although not that deep- and yet they came back different somehow, those Voyager people. It was different, and the longest maiden voyage ever. And hadn't they made the very best of it? He'd promote all of them, if they'd take it and the rest of his colleagues would agree to it, but sometimes people were stubborn.

Admiral Owen Paris frowned down at the work on his large desk. If he didn't do it now, he'd never get it done, he supposed. The door buzzed again.

He rolled his eyes, hitting the button on his desk so that those in the reception area beyond could hear him, most notably his secretary. Hadn't he said that he was busy today and didn't want to be bothered?

"This had better be good, Evans," he said.

"Captain Janeway here to see you, Admiral sir," the young secretary said diffidently.

Kathryn Janeway hmm? Think of the devil. "All right, send her in."

The door opened presently, admitting the woman in question. He took a moment to look at her. She was in uniform. Wasn't she supposed to be on maternity leave? She sure didn't look like she'd recently had children, but she'd always been a skinny thing. She held a padd in her hand. Damn, more work to be done. She saluted him perfunctorily.

"You didn't think I'd barge right on in even if you didn't tell me I could?" she said in that infuriating way.

She was often bordering on insubordinate, especially of late, but her manner made it impossible for you to call her down for it. She may have only been a Captain, but she carried herself more like an Admiral than he ever had. Hell, she'd done that when she was just a science officer. She was . . . intimidating, though only mildly so from his perspective. He was protected by more age and greater rank.

"I entertained the thought," he replied. "You never did like doorbells. You're looking well, Kathryn. Here on business?"

She smiled crookedly. There was a dark look about her eyes even with the smile, like she'd been terribly hurt by something. Oh yes. The drone had died.

"Sort of."

She flung the padd onto his desk and herself into a chair. Where had this come from? The straightlaced Captain Janeway replaced by a wounded-looking woman who was exhibiting enough ease in his presence to warrant official censure? What had gotten into her?

Wasn't she supposed to be off-duty?

She looked at him with serious blue eyes. "I'm calling in my favours, Admiral."

"Pardon me?"

"You told me the day that I turned down the promotion that your office was still open, I'm taking advantage of that. Mark my words, I won't leave you alone until you pay up."

"You're taking the admiralty?"

"Hardly."

Who was this woman, and what had she done with Janeway?

***

The comm lines buzzed at Chakotay's house, everyone calling in to hear what the Captain was doing. Endless calls, queries coupled with condolences and congratulations. Out of circumstance, he found himself alone with the babies, a fact which made him nervous. What if they got hungry? He wasn't exactly equipped. The phone beeped incessantly.

It was a good thing that the phone was able to open three lines at once, or he'd never get to talk to anyone. He missed the simpler times when it was easy as tapping your comm badge. Why were they all calling him, anyhow? Couldn't they just circulate whatever rumour they'd picked up amongst themselves? They always had before.

Unaccountably, he was surprised and glad for the number of calls coming in. Had Kathryn known how many people were jumping at the chance to go harass headquarters with her, if need be? He was happy for her. He should have known, though. People who knew her were ridiculously loyal to her. He knew that through personal experience.

And she had even had to ask if he'd go along with it?

Crazy woman, didn't she know better?

Oh Seven, I wish you were here for this.

***

B'Elanna was in high dudgeon . . . well, she was in high something. High gear, maybe. She rattled plans off incessantly, never looking so happy to be leaving the place they had called home for almost two years. Tom knew a happy B'Elanna when he saw her, even if she was snapping at him. They were going to San Francisco, once again.

Who cared now, if his father found out where he was? He wouldn't be here for much longer, if the Captain could successfully bully Admiral Paris. And she'd always been a successful bully, why would that change?

Even as B'Elanna harped at him, he grinned like an idiot.

***

What was he doing there, standing in the middle of the room and grinning like an idiot? Hadn't she told him to get a move on? There was no doubt in her mind that the Captain would succeed, and she was preparing to visit San Francisco. Never had she anticipated the trip with such relish.

K'Athra didn't understand what was going on, but she would in due time, if Captain Janeway had her way. And the Captain would, because it was high time for something to go right and when Janeway told you to do something, you were in fear of your life until you did. Especially if you refused in the first place, then she'd never leave you alone. She knew that quite well herself.

Even through her irritation, B'Elanna felt herself echoing her husband's grin.

***

As soon as Harry had gotten word -from Jenny Delaney, no less- he had bounded to the nearest city reference to find Chakotay's number. It used to be Seven's number too. He remembered the funeral with sad clarity. The Captain and the Commander had not been there. They'd been planning this, but somehow that was all right.

Seven, you would want this, wouldn't you?

Of course she would. That he was sure of. He dialled the correct number, and added to the plethora of calls.

***

Artificial happiness? It didn't feel like it, and he didn't feel like his protocols were up to anything but sorrow until now. But now, now he'd be out of here, his tiny little office. He couldn't help but think of Seven. She would have been as anticipatory about all this as anyone.

Tempus fugit, she'd said. It certainly did, but never so happily . . . not for such a long time. The Captain had to convince them, she had to. If he'd ever been sure of anything, he was sure of this. It was impossible to have aught but complete confidence in a determined Kathryn Janeway.

***

News travelled very fast in the Federation. The day after receiving word of Seven of Nine's death and the birth notice, Tuvok had received a letter from the Captain that even he couldn't help but be surprised at, muted as the feeling was. It was an admirable thing she was doing, but it more than suggested of spur-of-the-moment Human impulse, a thing he avoided at all costs.

Despite the sentiment, he was not against the idea, not in the least. However, could he depart so easily, when he had only just arrived home? It seemed that it was what she was asking.

Could he refuse a favour to one of his dearest friends?

Logical to a fault, he considered the situation.

***

"Calling in your favours, hmm? What about the ones you owe me?"

She shrugged, looking like she was open to that. "What did you have in mind?"

The Admiral eyed her suspiciously. Kathryn Janeway was never one to give people blank cheques. She was too shrewd for that. He took the opening anyhow. "How about where my son is?"

"Simple, I'm surprised you didn't find out long ago. He's in Canada, near a town named Bancroft in Ontario, which I believe you're acquainted with rather well." Her lips twisted into a somewhat evil smile. Calculating, machinating woman. She delighted him.

He laughed at his own folly. "I should have known he'd hide somewhere I knew. He's very clever, you know."

She nodded. "Oh yes, I know. But he's pretty artless sometimes, even if he pretends to be so worldly. Just don't give him any trouble, or you'll have B'Elanna to tangle with, and you'll more than have met your match in her. Now on to the more pertinent point?"

She and her wriggling eyebrows. "All right, what is this favour you need from me?"

Grinning conspiratorially, she told him. With great relish.

His mouth hung open for a second as he struggled to take her request in. No, she hadn't requested, she had demanded in no uncertain terms. The nerve of her, honestly! Who was she to come in here and command things?

She's Kathryn Janeway, is who, with enough accolades and unofficial brass backing her every move that you'll be lucky to get out of this with one pip, old man. And I do owe her. She just told me where Tom is. Calling in her favours indeed.

"Well?" she asked.

"You're insane. She's old."

"Refit her."

"She's been basically derelict for-"

"Move her."

"She's almost ten years old!" he insisted again.

Janeway gazed at him levelly from her seat. "You're not going to sway me."

"They'd give you a new one. They're jumping to do it."

"I don't want a new one."

"You're crazy, Kathryn."

"Re-commission my ship, Owen," she drawled, stressing her use of his name.

He shook his head at her. "What would you do with her? You're too independent. Do you think you can just sit back and take missions from Headquarters without balking? Do you think you can stand to be in charted space? For crissakes, you got spoiled out there, I think."

"The Enterprise did all right. They still do. And I am spoiled. Who cares? I'm going to milk the 'Starfleet's Golden Girl' position for all it's worth. What fun is it, otherwise? You can't stick me at a desk for the rest of my life -I'd kill you first- and I won't take any ship but Voyager."

"Even if they built a new one?" Threats, was it? Somehow, he thought she was serious. Damn, she'd grown some violence in her somewhere along the way. The far off look in her eyes only added to it, like she'd think nothing of carrying out any threat. A lot had happened to her, but how had it changed her so much? She used to be the epitome of what a good Starfleet officer should be . . . and now what? She was acting like she was hacking out a trade agreement. An agreement that she was going to dictate the terms of, by brute force alone if need be.

"Nope. Re-commission my ship, Admiral."

"She's too old."

She glared at him. What a look! Positively violent. God, she'd make a hell of an admiral, just like she made a hell of a captain. "I don't care if you have to refit and upgrade every power conduit on your own credit, you are going to give me my ship back, and any of my crew who want to come . . . and you're not even going to turn a hair while you convince the rest of your medaled and brass-barred cohorts that it's a damned good idea too."

"What about your children?"

"What about them? Don't you turn twentieth on me. You can raise kids on ships."

"What about their father-"

"Owen, their father is my First Officer."

"Oh, so it's all in a nice little package, isn't it?" Her First Officer? There was a little piece of information he had missed. What else was he missing?

"It certainly is," she agreed warmly. Now what was that in her tone? "Give me my ship."

He stared down at her, suddenly conscious that he had risen from his chair and was standing with his hands palms-down on his desk. She would stay there forever, he knew. It wasn't as easy as Admiral-to-Captain anymore, even if they were friendly. No amount of resistance from him was going to change her mind. She wanted her ship, and she would probably scream to high heaven to get it. She was spoiled! It was positively childish. Oddly commendable, though.

"I'm not going to budge you, am I?"

The look on her face was answer enough.

"I give up. You win. You go call your cohorts, I'll call mine." He sank back into his chair as she rose from hers, looking smug as hell. She'd known she'd win. That bothered him. That was look was so . . . she'd spent too much time with his son, he could tell.

"You're sure I can't interest you in something from Utopia Planetia? There's a new ship in the yard right now going begging but for a good commanding officer. You could even take your crew with you."

"No. Voyager."

"Okay, but this might take a while. Just don't raise too much hell in the meantime, all right?"

She grinned openly at him, some of the dark look falling away. "How can you ask that? I spent seven years on a ship with your son chattering at me from the conn, Admiral. He taught me a few things about what you should do when you get your way. I feel happy for the first time in a long while, and if there's a meantime, I'll raise hell in it if I want to."

He didn't doubt it.

***

Kathryn sank down slowly against the wall, her knees too weak to hold her and hot tears streaming from her eyes. She'd done it, everything was going to be fine. All of it. She had Voyager, she had their ship. She didn't care where in space she was, as long as it was on that ship. Home was where the heart was, and she'd left a good-sized piece of hers on Voyager.

She thought about the eerie blacks and greens of Cargo Bay Two. What to do with that? Who would be there now, to make even the alcoves somehow less intimidating? No one, because she had died while they lived on Earth, and pretended it was what they wanted.

Who were they kidding? They were all spoiled by it. Earth was not home, for her at least.

If only it had not taken so long to realize it.

She ignored the strange look she received from the Admiral's secretary and rose . . . off to "call her cohorts." Her family, the only one she wanted. She had to laugh, and laugh like a giddy child. It was all going right now, just for once. She was going to have Voyager back, the thing she had been pining for while she told herself that Earth was what she wanted. Wasn't she just like a spoiled Starfleet brat? Hypocrite.

It seemed that fate had taken a better turn for once, and it hurt that Seven was not there to see it. She would have deserved it. She did deserve it.

Sorry Seven, I can't keep my promise. I can't stay, but I'm going to drag everyone with me, including Chakotay. Is that enough? It will be like it was, only not the same. Never the same. You left a big hole here, you know, and I have a feeling I'm going to be talking to you in my head like this until the day I die. But you taught me the truth, even though you had to die to do it, because I'm so stubborn. I learned from you, like I hoped I had. Thank you.

And Kathryn Janeway cried as she dialled the number, knowing that things would be better and that she wasn't just improvising in place of happiness. She would stare it all in the face now, instead of hiding and patching things as she went. No more stopgap measures.

She had learned that if something was going to happen, it would happen, no matter how hard she struggled. Same went, curiously, for the good things as well as the bad.

Kathryn blinked, staring at the message on the phone's screen. The lines were all busy. What the hell? A good phone could handle holding about thirty lines at once and open three. Chakotay's certainly could, it was new . . . and they were busy? All busy.

Despite her irritation, she grinned.

The End (?)

***

Well? What do ya think? Gotta love those wide open endings, hmm? Thanks for reading, I never knew so many people would like this, it was just a muddled idea I cooked up because I hated how abruptly they dropped everyone in the AQ. And here I am with my own abrupt ending! Sorry there. Darn, now that I'm done this, what am I going to do with myself. . . ? -M