For What It's Worth

'Something wrong Captain?'

'Huh? No.' Janeway rested her head on her fingers and squeezed her brow hard. Paris meant well, but he just didn't know when to shut up. The padd on her knee was turned down against her leg; the letter still unfinished. It wouldn't do for her cocky, self assured pilot to discover such mushy blather. The damned thing read like a trashy romance novel. Scowling darkly Janeway erased a few hours work. Again.

Tom Paris watched her out the corner of his eye. The shuttle trip to the latest round of trade talks had been routine so far, but the Captain had said maybe ten words the whole trip. They'd been away from Voyager a couple of days and planetfall was in a matter of hours. Tom was looking forward to the break in routine. At least he'd have something new to talk to Harry about when he returned in a weeks time. He thought about Harry, and smiled.

Janeway knew that smile, and winced. How easy it had been for Tom to grab a quick hug with Harry before boarding; a brief touch on the face and a smile exchanged. How simple and uncomplicated their ritual of goodbyes. She should be happy for them. But she hated it. She hated the ease and openness, the satisfied "just been fucked" glances, and how a touch from Harry made Tom's face light up. Despite the romance holonovels, the costumes, the endless playacting at love and desire, treading the same old, tired routine in the holodeck, when it came to doing it "for real", Janeway had to admit defeat. She flipped the padd over and started again.

"Dear Seven,

In regards to our conversation of stardate..."

Damn! It's not a bloody directive! Erased.

"Dear Seven,

The other night when I said that you could visit my quarters and have dinner and we could talk about your ideas for improving the efficiency of the warp engines, well what I really meant to say was..."

What? What did I mean to say? That you should stay the night? That you should *not* talk about the damn warp engines? That you should let me touch you, and taste you and hold your hands above your head and bite you on the jaw, and leave a nice set of teeth marks and a bruise to show you off as mine to Tom and Harry and that damned Chakotay?

How could I say that? Janeway wiped a damp palm down her thigh, and recrossed her legs. Try again.

"Seven,

It is a Starfleet custom that personnel leave a letter addressed to their special friends to be opened and read in the event of their death. The letters for my old friends and for the crew in general have been written and logged long ago. You are new to the crew, but fast becoming a "special friend" to me. "

Hmmm, not bad. Remember Kathryn, you'll be *dead* when she reads it. Go for it!

"Please know this. The time we shared on Voyager was both unsettling and exhilarating for me. I think you know why. You stayed still when I moved up close, you looked me in the eye and called on me to explain my orders, you're strong and yet in so many ways vulnerable and needy. And the contradiction of your past and who you've become appals and attracts me. If we had more time, if I could have moved faster... "

Damn it! No time here for "if only's"

"..perhaps I would have been disappointed but at least I would have known I'd tried. I console myself by thinking of worse case scenarios. But that would be too much like wallowing, and give acknowledgement to my own short comings. "

Tell her, for fucks sake!

"The bottom line Seven, is that I feel, felt, a real need for you. I didn't realise the need was there. The empty feeling is easy to dodge if you keep busy, and can be glossed over as unimportant and "irrelevant" if you try hard enough. But I find myself thinking about the intimacy we never shared, the touches and caresses, the taste of your lips and the warm beauty of your face. To wake up to a lovers embrace against your back and a casual arm thrown over your shoulders. To watch the breath whisper through parted lips as you sleep and the curve of your thigh as you stand and stretch.

Then there was the challenge. Could you trust me? Could I trust you? Could we ever relax our guard completely and honestly, and *know* what being happy and guilt free, felt like? It would have taken a long time Seven, but I think we could have done it. A long time, that we don't have now."

Janeway's mouth was dry. She re-read the last few paragraphs, then noticed the slight tremor in her hand as it clutched at the padd. It would have to do. She glanced at the flight controls and found that they were scheduled to land in 45 minutes. Time to wrap it up. She never liked landing. Too many things could go wrong.

"So there you have it, Seven. I had to say it. It wouldn't leave me alone. I owed it to you, this honest admission. I stole you away from your people, and a small, selfish part of me is glad I did, but for the wrong reasons. Forgive me or not, it's irrelevant now. But know this much. I wanted you. I needed you. And for what it's worth, I loved you.

Kathryn Janeway"

She couldn't read the last paragraph again without flinching. So she made herself read it again and again, like pressing an old bruise, bringing out the hurt and facing it. Even if her courage failed her when they returned to the ship, and she chose to remain aloof and busy and unapproachable as always, Seven would know one day, how she felt. With numb, clumsy fingers Janeway transferred the contents of her padd into the ships log and coded it well. It was done.

Beginning re-entry sequence, Captain.'

'Go ahead, Mr Paris.'

'Hang on, it'll be a bumpy ride. The sensors are picking up increasing ion storms. Damn! These things came out of nowhere!'

Tom's fingers flew expertly over the controls, and Janeway let him. She handled the shields and structural integrity and tried to hold the shuttle together, long enough for Paris to get it down. The foggy atmosphere of the planet rushed up to meet them, the buffeting grew worse, the stabilisers failed, and the last thing Janeway remembered seeing before her head hit the console was a large, splintered crack in the view port and hearing Paris yelling out a mayday call to Voyager. He's dumping the logs... she thought. Good. The ion storm... Seven....

*************

'She's coming to. Stand clear please.' There was a hiss of a hypospray. 'Captain? How do you feel?'

Janeway ached all over and every breath felt like millions of needles in her chest. Her sinuses burned and throbbed, and merged into a huge headache across her forehead. She opened her eyes to the Doctor's smug smile. She hated to disappoint him.

'Just fine Doctor.'

'You were dead. You're not now. All thanks to me.' He grinned happily, until the *ahem* came from behind Janeway's head. 'Er, and the rescue team. Commander Chakotay, Harry Kim, and Seven.'

Janeway closed her eyes and tried breathing shallow. It didn't help much.

'You better stay here in Sick Bay another day or two. Your lungs and upper respiratory tract were badly damaged by the dangerously high methane content of the atmosphere. Rest now.' The Doctor used his "stern" voice. Sometimes it worked.

'She will live?' the voice from behind her head. She knew *that* voice.

'Yes, of course!'

'Then I want to speak with her. Leave us.'

'I don't think it's a very good idea to dist...'

'Doctor,' Janeway croaked, opening her eyes a crack. 'It's OK.'

The Doctor sniffed and retreated into his office murmuring objections. Janeway closed her eyes again. They felt like they'd been scraped over with sandpaper and popped back in. It hurt. So she was unprepared for the soft touch of a metal tipped finger on the back of her hand. She kept very still.

'Captain. We thought you were dead. I read your letter.' The finger touch became a warm firm grip around her hand.

'Seven. I... but...'

'Quiet.' Janeway felt fingers brushing the hair away from her forehead and combing gently through the tangles. The grip on her hand tightened and the Captain felt warm breath against her cheek. The kiss was unexpected. Seven smelled like talc and ginger, and her lips parted and her tongue brushed gently against Janeway's cracked dry lips. Seven ended the kiss and pulled back just enough to whisper,

'It seems we have the time now. For what it's worth, I trust you.'

And I love you, thought Janeway as she drifted off to sleep.

*********** ***********

"xxxx"