Disclaimer - Paramount owns them. La de da.
Hmm...I don't like what they're doing to Janeway in season five.
*
I think, sometimes, it's easier to face you like this. When your brow is furrowed, when your eyes display nothing but your absolute refusal to capitulate. When your mouth is set into a slightly downturned but nonetheless determined line. Your body posture reeks 'stay away from me' which makes it all the easier for me to speak to you.
It's harder, at other times. When you realise that sheer force of willpower - even yours - won't work in a particular case. It's then that you smile, that your eyes plead, that you touch me. In those moments emotional blackmail is the norm for you and I...I can do nothing.
You'll rub your fingertips lightly, just barely over some part of my skin, and that's enough. It's enough to keep me flying for weeks. I'll almost hover over the ground as I walk, smiling at everyone because *you* touched *me*.
And later, in the darkness, I'll hate myself. And you.
You know, you have to know the reaction you have. After all this time it can't be secret. You know how manipulate me, how to control me. I hate you for it. But at the same time...I love you for it. How can I not? No one else causes the feeling of utter peace that falls over me every time you say my name.
I used to think that by now I should have developed a immunity towards you, as if you were some kind of disease that could be fought and defended against. I suppose I have, of sorts. That's the only reason I'm here, now, standing on the other side of the table in the ready room.
Your expression is one of disdain but you don't move, don't say anything. I know you won't react any further until I speak.
What to say? So much choice, so many questions. I have the freedom to say what I want but the words are too many.
And then they come.
The words...come.
"I don't think I like you."
You blink, surprised by the words, surprised that I'd have the balls to say them. Your frown deepens for a moment before vanishing. And in a move that is so utterly Kathryn, the ends of your lips start to move upwards into a small smile. You start to step around the desk using your eyes to look sad, dejected.
"No," I whisper "no Kathryn. No more."
It was easier than I thought.
Freezing in place with a hand still sliding along the edge of the table you study me and seem to come to the realisation that it won't work this time. Not this. Not now.
The retreat starts then. The smile leaves but the frown doesn't return in its place. Instead an expression of nothingness covers your face and you turn from me with a shrug.
I thought it was easy. But I can't take this. This is too much even for you.
I speak.
"Computer, end programme."
You, the ready room, and the stars outside the window vanish. There is only the hologrid, the cold, harsh lines commited to memory.
I leave knowing that I'll return. It's all I have. It's all I am.
~FINIS