Homecoming
by Denise Felt 2010
She didn’t see it coming. Couldn’t have been aware that the actions of a Federation enemy lightyears away would have an impact on her life – on her waiting. And she’d been so proud of her patience, knowing that he would be pleased as well that she was handling their separation with such calm. With such inner peace. But truthfully, all it took was to close her eyes and bring his face before her eyelids – his dark eyes soft and loving staring into hers.
Was there pain in this ritual? Did it tear a fresh hole in her heart each morning as she sat in the sunlight and closed her eyes? Oh, yes. Indeed, yes. But it also grounded her, reminding her of their communion and the strength of their bond. Nothing could ever take from them the years of joy and peace they had shared. The family they had created with their passion. Even the distance of a quadrant or two made no difference. They loved. He loved. And for that, she was willing to wait an eternity.
So when she opened her eyes this morning after her ritual and saw him approaching over the small bridge that traversed the stream on their property, she was briefly confused, thinking at first that her eyes were still closed and she was still projecting.
Then she was up and running, all decorum and patience forgotten in one blinding moment of revelation – he was here! And T’Pel launched herself at her husband, nearly knocking him backward on the bridge, blinking through her tears to try to see his face, her arms locking like a vise around his slender form. Then she heard his voice. For the first time in far too long, she heard his blessed voice!
He said, "Woman, restrain yourself. This is not like you."
And she grinned up at him, uncaring that she was not displaying the calm demeanor that he had always so admired in her. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that her husband was home.
Tuvok was home.
She didn’t see it coming. Couldn’t have been aware that the actions of a Federation enemy lightyears away would have an impact on her life – on her waiting. And she’d been so proud of her patience, knowing that he would be pleased as well that she was handling their separation with such calm. With such inner peace. But truthfully, all it took was to close her eyes and bring his face before her eyelids – his dark eyes soft and loving staring into hers.
Was there pain in this ritual? Did it tear a fresh hole in her heart each morning as she sat in the sunlight and closed her eyes? Oh, yes. Indeed, yes. But it also grounded her, reminding her of their communion and the strength of their bond. Nothing could ever take from them the years of joy and peace they had shared. The family they had created with their passion. Even the distance of a quadrant or two made no difference. They loved. He loved. And for that, she was willing to wait an eternity.
So when she opened her eyes this morning after her ritual and saw him approaching over the small bridge that traversed the stream on their property, she was briefly confused, thinking at first that her eyes were still closed and she was still projecting.
Then she was up and running, all decorum and patience forgotten in one blinding moment of revelation – he was here! And T’Pel launched herself at her husband, nearly knocking him backward on the bridge, blinking through her tears to try to see his face, her arms locking like a vise around his slender form. Then she heard his voice. For the first time in far too long, she heard his blessed voice!
He said, "Woman, restrain yourself. This is not like you."
And she grinned up at him, uncaring that she was not displaying the calm demeanor that he had always so admired in her. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that her husband was home.
Tuvok was home.