A/N: I don't own "Voyager."

Harry's eyes drifted over this theater program without taking in any of the words. He wasn't listening to the song either—some piece from an obscure Klingon opera. That was the theme for this concert; little-known songs, performed by little-known singers. Coming up was Harry's new date, and the sole reason for his attendance at this performance. This would be his first attempt at romance since becoming a widower three years prior.

After Linnis had dissolved along with Voyager, Harry had suffered a bit more than the average human grieving their spouse, due to the unusual circumstances of his marriage and his wife's death. Not that he hadn't received sympathy for his loss. A high-profile Starfleet darling now, Captain Kim had been offered the finest counselors the Federation had to offer. Deanna Troi and Ezri Dax had both done everything to help him move on. Perhaps the worst part was how unremarkable his situation actually was, in the grand scheme of things. These counselors regularly saw patients from mix-marriages or mixed families, whose loved ones came from races with shorter life-spans. "I'm seeing a Vulcan man right now, who's dealing with his human wife aging…" "I once counseled a Klingon with an adopted daughter, whose species lived less than fifteen years…"

As if Linnis was just another case. As if Harry could ever find someone else to replace her. He'd once marveled at what a miracle it had been, that his best friend and his kindest friend would end up marrying, and against all odds, the latter's species would allow for a maturation that ended up with Linnis being the same age as himself, making for Harry's perfect match. But only a few years into their marriage, he'd seen that it wasn't a miracle, but a cruel irony, a sick, cosmic practical joke.

Well, Harry was finished grieving. Or wanted to be, anyway. Once thinking he couldn't possibly move on, Harry now wanted nothing else. If he couldn't find a change, if he couldn't escape from his grief, he'd go insane. He was starting to live again now. Doing fun things with friends and family. Babysitting K'Zumi for Andrew and Mezoti. (The young parents had decided, ultimately, not to get married, instead opting for split custody.) Finally, just a month ago, he'd entered onto a subspace dating network. Who he'd been matched with had raised his eyebrows, but in retrospect, shouldn't have surprised him.

"And now," the announcer's magnified voice echoed softly, "Annika Hanson and Dr. Van Gough will recite a piece from 'The Devil's Carnival,' an independent twenty-first century musical."

Why did so many Earth musicals revolve around Satan? Harry hoped he wasn't in for some overly dramatic. He half-expected the Doctor to have programmed himself with crimson skin and curled horns. But Dr. Van Gough entered in a modest black suit, his hair now programmed shoulder-length. Annika strode onto the stage in a loose white dress, her gold hair sitting in ringlets around her shoulders. Harry didn't know what the musical's tone had been when it was first written, but Annika and the Doctor sang in low, soft voices that filled the theater with a serene feel.

"The ship, it swayed, heave ho, heave ho,

On the dark and stormy blue,

And I held tight to the Captain's might

As he pulled up his trews.

'You haven't slept,' heave ho, he said,

In many suns and moons.'

'Oh, I will sleep when we reach shore,

And pray we get there soon.'

He said, 'Now hush love, here's your gown.

There's the bed, lanterns down.'

'But I don't want to go to sleep; in all my dreams, I drown…'"

Harry watched the dim lighting bounce of Annika's cranial implant, and found himself wondering how long he and her would last. He was getting ahead of himself; tonight was their first date. What they had in common, or didn't, he'd find out in good time. All that mattered right now was that she understood. She was in the same place he was. She was the only person he knew, besides Tom and Laura, who could understand.

And although she wasn't Linnis, he had to admit, she was beautiful.

"His berth, it rocks, heave ho heave ho

The ocean gnashed and moaned

Like Jonah we'll be swallowed whole

And spat back teeth and bones …"

The lyrics were disturbingly fitting, Harry thought, his mind replaying Voyager's destruction in the blue clouds. No, he corrected himself. He hadn't come out of Voyager's journey with nothing. He'd come with a son, a grandchild, a best friend, and almost seven years worth of memories with a wonderful wife.

Things, on the whole, had been looking up since the Voyager crew's return. Tuvok was mostly cured of his mental illness (though he still had some problems). Neelix was teaching cutlery at Starfleet Academy. Naomi and Icheb were both cadets, and dating, last Harry had heard. Xin was serving on some Trill ship. Little K'Zumi was growing up at a slow, almost human rate. Harry wouldn't have to outlive his granddaughter, at least.

"'Hush now, hush love, here's your gown.

There's the bed, lantern's down.'

'I'm begging you please wake me up

In all my dreams I...'"

Annika slowly sank to the floor in a theatrical "death," and the lights went off. Harry raised his hands to join in the applause, feeling slightly guilty that he hadn't been paying attention for most of the song. He'd make every effort to listen to whatever Annika had to say, tonight.

After the concert Annika and Dr. Van Gough had a friendly chat with Harry, before taking their leave. The Doctor had a date planned with some Orion singer. On the way to the transport, Harry and Annika chatted casually about work, family and what to do for dinner.

"I haven't had Greek food in a while," Harry said, with a small but natural looking smile.

"I'm not sure if I've ever been to a Greek restaurant," Annika mused, and found she was genuinely excited to go out to dinner with Harry Kim.

Throughout dinner they caught up on each other's lives, discussed books they were reading and holo-programs they were following, and indulged in a few philosophical discussions.

When their existential musings reached the subject of the multiverse, Harry blurted out, "My wife didn't exist in any other universe."

Annika's blue eyes fell down to her plate, and she busied herself with her salad. She recalled one of the things Chakotay had said, in their last conversation, and wondered if somewhere out there was a universe where she and Chakotay lived a long life together. And Linnis somehow found a way to slow her lifespan to a human rate…or Harry just found someone as good a match for him as Linnis, but from a more compatible species. Obviously, she wasn't going to voice that last bit out loud.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I shouldn't—"

"No, don't be sorry." Annika added, "Anyway, the multiverse is infinite. We have no idea what possibilities are out there."

After a moment Harry said, "I don't know if I thanked you yet, Annika. For…for your time, and…"

"No," Annika shook her head. "Thank you." She reached for her glass of water. (She was avoiding alcohol tonight.) "Chakotay told me the same thing. Before he died." Harry's eyes watched her slowly sip her water. "He's told me it again and again, in my dreams. In vision quests."

"Vision Quests?"

"I'm close with Chakotay's sister, Sekaya. I visit the village now and then. Actually, I'm teaching singing there next summer. She gave me one of his old Anookas."

Thanks to that Borg memory, Annika could still recall the discussion in sharp detail: Sekaya facing her across the coffee table, in the other woman's living room, just a week after Voyager's return to Earth. The older woman pressing the small metallic disk into Annika's hand, begging her, "Please, take it. As payback, for taking care of my brother out there."

"What's a vision quest like?" Harry asked conversationally.

"It's a bit like a dream, but more…coherent. Usually. I've had entire conversations with people who've passed away. Chakotay, my parents." She added quickly, "But you have to remember it's all in your subconscious."

After a moment Harry muttered, "I think I'll pass." More clearly, he explained, "I've finally stopped dreaming about Linnis. The last one I remember was maybe six months ago. She just kept…apologizing. Asking me to forgive her."

"Survivor's guilt," Annika said. "One thing Sekaya said to me, after I told her about my last days with Chakotay: 'Sometimes the survivors aren't the only ones who suffer from guilt.'"

Harry's dark eyes wandered his plate. He wasn't a particularly spiritual person, at least as far as Annika knew, so perhaps that last bit hadn't been particularly helpful.

"Andrew forgives her," Harry said finally. He leaned back in his seat, clearing his throat. "He's on Vulcan now. I don't know if I mentioned."

Annika nodded. "You did, on the transport. You said he's at a monastery?"

"Studying with Tuvok."

"You mean exercising his mental powers, like—" she stopped short of reminding Harry of his late wife.

Harry shook his head. "No. Just kind of...learning the Vulcan way of life. Andrew's been having problems over the last few years. Not being able to relate to humans, because of his lifespan and his telepathy. For a while he lived with me and my parents, in San Francisco. He got along best with the Vulcans in town." San Francisco, the capitol city of the Federation, was home to many off-world citizens. "He was under a lot of stress, with his accelerated aging, his short lifespan, not seeing his daughter all the time. He got interested in philosophy and religion, you know, to help cope. And I guess the Vulcan way of life just appealed to him. Because of the discipline, and how they deal with their telepathic abilities." Harry shrugged. "But who knows how long it'll last. Maybe he'll come back in a year and decide he wants to convert to the Cult of the Pah Wraiths."

Annika laughed, not a polite forced laugh but a genuine chuckle. "Well whatever he decides, I'm sure it'll work out. Andrew's a bright kid. And Tuvok's one of the best teachers I've ever known."

Harry smiled. "He's not a kid anymore, remember? He's probably somewhere in his twenties, for human years."

They continued talking hours after they'd finished dinner, sipping coffee and touring the dark streets of San Francisco, just sharing stories and ideas and jokes, until the sun came up.

"The flame of the lamp is fire disciplined, tamed and under control. It is the appropriate focus for the task ahead of us."

Tuvok and Andrew both wore loose Vulcan robes. They sat on the floor of Andrew's quarters in the monastery, a Vulcan lamp flickering between them. Beneath their closed lids Andrew's eyes were twitching, as if something were distracting him. Thanks to his own Vulcan telepathy, Tuvok could sense that this was indeed the case.

"Mr. Kim, you appear to be in some discomfort."

"It's my mother, Master Tuvok," Andrew said quietly. "I know she's still out there. Not dead but…not really alive either." His voice was calm and controlled. "She's evolved."

"You feel betrayed by her."

"No." Andrew slowly opened his eyes. "I'm happy for her, honestly. I just don't want to join her." His face fell. "That feels like a terrible thing to say."

"No doubt, your mother experiences the same guilt."

Tuvok was privately uncertain whether he believed that Linnis had ascended to a higher plane of existence, rather than simply perishing with Voyager.

Andrew grimaced. "I just want a normal life. I want to find a job I like, and watch K'Zumi grow up. See some grandkids…but only if K'Zumi wants. I don't care what she does with her life, when she grows up. But I want to be there for it."

"Your daughter is fortunate to have so accepting a father," Tuvok complimented.

Andrew thanked his teacher politely.

"Master Tuvok," Andrew paused.

"Yes?"

"They're still out there, the aliens. Species 8472."

It was a disturbing thought.

"They have not returned to our realm in three years."

"That's a long time for me," Andrew said, "But not necessarily for the aliens." His voice began to lose its Vulcan-like control. "And what about the Krenim, all the way back in the Delta Quadrant? They're still around. What if their empire reaches the Alpha Quadrant someday? What if the Borg make a comeback?"

Normally Tuvok would simply dismiss this as typical worrying for a young man who'd been through a traumatic childhood. But Andrew was one-fourth Ocampan…

"Have you been experiencing precognition?" Tuvok asked.

Andrew shook his head. "No. Just," he shrugged. "Just some disturbing thoughts that occurred to me, as I've been contemplating my past, like Master T'Pera told me to."

"No doubt," Tuvok said, "The Alpha Quadrant will see more battles, likely in your lifetime. That is a certainty that we must all learn to accept, and a fear that must not control us."

Andrew didn't reply for several moments.

"If you feel fatigued, you may turn in for the night," Tuvok offered. "We can continue this exercise in the morning."

Andrew nodded. "Thank you, Tuvok."

Tuvok continued staring into the flame long after Andrew had left. Precognition or not, there were many grim realities lying ahead for them all. Andrew's fears regarding Species 8472 in particular stuck out to Tuvok. He wondered, not for the first time, about the validity of Andrew's insistence that his mother had joined the aliens in their alternate realm. Wondered if she might provide some support for her old friends, should the worst occur, or if she'd forget entire that she'd once been from an organic race.

Breathing deeply, Tuvok lifted the lap, and blew out the flame.

A/N: "The Devil's Carnival" is a real musical movie (by the people who did "Repo: The Genetic Opera!") It's a very silly, over-the-top musical. But the lyrics of "In All My Dreams" worked so well for the conclusion of this fic, I had to use it, while altering the mood slightly for Annika and the Doc's performance.

Special thanks to Chrissie's Transcripts Site. I referred to the script of "The Gift" for Tuvok's first line when coaching Andrew through meditation.

While I enjoyed writing this story, I am immensely relieved to finally be finished writing about a Voyager without B'Elanna, or the Seven of Nine we all know. The next story to get serious attention will be "The Twenty-Sixth Year," but I can't say when it will be updated. I have a laundry list of ideas for one-shots and short stories, so you might see something new up next, instead.

And now… FANFIC RECS:

"Redemption" by CaptAcorn: An amazingly written, canon-friendly "episode," dealing with Tom and B'Elanna's marriage and Tom's painful past. This is quality fan-fiction, and CaptAcorn does a superb job of tying in various episodes and everyday quirks to characters' back-stories. She also brings in tons of minor characters. It's an easy but wonderful read, that any Paris/Torres fan must check out. I used to avoid P/T fics, thinking the show had already handled their relationship perfectly; but this story adds so much that the real writers never thought of.

"Beyond My Knowing" by Jessi Knight: An AU fic, where Kes finds love with a blind Kazon woman, rather than Neelix. Jessi Knight treats Kes far better than the show did, fleshing out her struggles growing up, and giving her fatal character flaws. The fact that Kes is gay in this story also makes her a much more unique character than the "typical girly girl" stereotype we were given onscreen. (This story is listed as Mature, but from what I recall, doesn't contain anything too graphic or gross.)

"Contrary," by Teya: The latest story from the original C/7 writer, this goes into beautiful, tragic detail about Chakotay's past, with a healthy side of irony as Seven is now the one consoling Chakotay about survivor's guilt. Teya also does a fantastic job at making sense of Chakotay's tribal heritage, having far more knowledge on the subject than Voyager's writers.

"In Thy Name" by Scifiromance: Set in a version of the "Endgame" timeline where Seven and Chakotay had a child together. It's not yet clear if this is set in an alternate universe where Admiral Janeway never changed history, or if it's simply showing us a major piece of the equation that the Admiral left out to her younger self. In any case, it fleshes out the "Endgame" timeline brilliantly, including Tuvok's illness and the Unimatrix Zero movement. And as usual, Scifi does a beautiful job fleshing out Seven and Chakotay.

"Star Trek: Voyager: Love and War," by Jack Russell: "My Immortal" has a challenger! For those who enjoy troll-fics, and want a laugh. This is a quick, three-chapter read, that has had me literally in tears of laughter every time I read it. Jack Russell applies all of the most important aspects of "badfic," from the Gary Stu to the appalling spelling to the blatant continuity errors, all cranked up to 11.