ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS

As things turned out, their return to the Alpha Quadrant was unlike anything she'd imagined.

Janeway thought she'd considered all the possibilities, and every combination thereof: worm holes, finding Suspiria, perfecting their slip stream, assistance from Q, even simply traveling home for decades under their own power. But to burst out of a Borg sphere? The irony was not lost on her that Voyager's greatest nemesis became the conduit for sending them home in record time. Knowing how much that fact would irritate the Queen, she almost wished the Borg leader was still alive.

And despite knowing, thanks to the Admiral, of Chakotay's early relationship with Seven, Janeway could never, ever, have anticipated that he would not be by her side at the moment of arrival back in the Alpha Quadrant. Mentally she understood that he was employing his tactical skills by assisting Seven in monitoring the telemetry that was flying at them faster than even the former drone could handle alone. But the fact that he happened to be standing beside Seven at the culmination of their odyssey - not beside herself as she'd always assumed he would be - gave her heart a tiny twinge of disappointment.

That twinge was quickly replaced by a much greater concern. The hastily assembled armada of Starfleet ships, armed to the teeth to battle what they assumed was an invasion by the Borg, could have brought an abrupt and ignominious end to their arrival home. How ironic would it be to survive all that the Delta Quadrant had thrown at them, only to be blasted to smithereens by "friendly fire"?

"We're being hailed." The slight quiver in Harry's voice reflected the joyful shock of the whole bridge. Even Tom seemed stunned into silence. Janeway could see Tom's shoulders straighten at the sight that greeted them from the viewscreen.

Admiral Owen Paris gaped like a fish as he gazed in astonishment around the bridge of the long-lost U.S.S. Voyager, NCC 74656. Before he could utter a word, Janeway took the initiative. "Sorry to surprise you. Next time, we'll call ahead."

The admiral managed to find his voice. "Welcome back."

Despite the words of greeting, neither Admiral Paris nor Reginald Barclay were smiling, and the first alarm bells began to sound in her head. With equal reserve, she replied, "It's good to be here." They'd just arrived home after seven long years of battling against constant opposition, and the exchange felt surreal, stilted.

"How did you-?"

"It'll all be in my report, Sir."

"Sickbay to bridge." The wails of a newborn could be heard behind the doctor's voice. "Lieutenant Paris, there's someone here who would like to say hello."

Admiral Paris glanced from his son to Janeway and back. "Is that-?"

This time, it was Tom who interrupted him. "Your granddaughter, Sir. Miral Kathryn Paris."

Janeway's eyes clouded with the sudden sting of tears, and could barely see the admiral nodding slowly, himself blinking rapidly. Her vision cleared and she saw Tom's back stiffen as the admiral's blinking gaze slowly swept the bridge, finally landing on herself. A knot settled in the pit of her stomach.

"I look forward to reading that report, Captain. Paris out."

The knot began to tighten. "Tom," she spoke as calmly as she could, "you'd better get down to sickbay."

Tom continued to stare at the viewscreen for a moment, then rose and turned. He looked hard at Janeway, and she nodded her understanding. "Off you go now, Lieutenant. Give B'Elanna a hug from me, and we'll be down to see them both as soon as we can."

Chakotay joined her on the lower level, regarding her inquiringly. She placed a hand lightly on his arm as she spoke. "Mr. Kim, a ship-wide channel, please." When the young man nodded, she spoke again. "All hands, this is the captain. I have two joyous announcements to make. First, we want to welcome to the Voyager family, Miral Torres Paris. You'll have to check with the happy parents on the exact time of arrival. However, the betting pool has been rendered redundant, as this brings me to my second announcement. As those of you near a viewport already know, we are back in the Alpha Quadrant. A finer crew never existed, and it has been my honor to serve with you. We will be taking the next week to travel at impulse in order to make the necessary repairs, as we want to arrive looking our best. Welcome home, Voyager. Janeway out."

"Captain," Ensign Kim spoke up, "I'm sure we can get warp back online sooner than a week."

"I'm sure we can, but I want this time for us to acclimatize." Janeway's hand still rested on Chakotay's arm, and she felt the muscles under her fingers tighten. She looked up at him, his eyes were regarding her intently. "Commander, I'd like you and Tuvok to join me in my ready room."

No sooner had the doors closed behind the three officers than Chakotay spoke. "What was that all about?"

Janeway sat at her desk and gestured to the two chairs on the other side. "When it comes to his fascination of the twentieth century era, Tom Paris is a chip off the old block. Among other things, Owen Paris majored in the various means of communication invented over time. One of them being Morse Code."

Tuvok nodded and inquired, "Was the admiral blinking the standard S-O-S signal of distress?"

She grinned wryly. "Not quite. It was a shortened version that the admiral used occasionally with his crews, just the 'O' and the 'S'. In Paris-ese, it stands for 'Oh shit.' And despite how humorous that sounds, this is no laughing matter; he was giving us a warning."

Tuvok's eyebrow quirked. "The question would be a warning about what?"

Arms crossed over his broad chest, Chakotay frowned. "The fact that he felt it necessary to do so surreptitiously indicates there is a level of real power he's trying to circumvent."

"Exactly." She leaned forward urgently. "Gentlemen, we need to figure out contingency plans, and do all we can to prepare."

"That is why you wish us to proceed only at impulse," Tuvok commented.

"Correct. Now, what are our greatest areas of concern, and our priorities?"

Chakotay spoke thoughtfully, "Captain, I think that first off, we need to get the word out that we're here. If there is in fact a powerful faction that would seek to do us harm, one of the ways they could do as they please would be to keep our return a secret."

Tuvok commented. "Despite the fact that we were met by many ships, they are all Starfleet. If the general populous remained unaware of Voyager's return, this faction could make unilateral decisions regarding our crew that would not be discovered until too late."

"And," Chakotay added, "they may go so far as to try to restrict communications, to keep a lid on things. We may not have much of a window of opportunity."

"Agreed. We need a believable means of getting the word out regarding our return before that can happen." Drumming her fingers on the desk for a few seconds, Janeway stood suddenly. "I have an idea. Wait here a moment."

She strode toward the bridge and stood in the doorway. The bridge crew looked up expectantly. "Mr. Kim, don't your parents head up the 'Friends of Voyager' group?"

He nodded. "Yes, Captain, that's right. Do you want me to contact them?"

"Indeed I do. Ask them to get the word out to as many people as possible that Voyager has returned."

"Including the press?"

She smiled at her perceptive ops officer. Harry had come a long way from the frightened green ensign of seven years ago. "As many people as possible," she repeated, then returned to her ready room.

"Now gentlemen, what are our areas of concern?" She took up a PADD, ready to input.

"The former Maquis. Also the remaining Equinox crew," Chakotay spoke first.

"Seven and Icheb," Tuvok contributed.

"And the status of the doctor." Janeway's fingers flew over the PADD. "Anything else?"

"Yes."

Both she and Tuvok looked at Chakotay. He returned her look pointedly. With a sigh, she shrugged her shoulders. "We all know that as the saying goes, 'the buck stops here.' The captain is ultimately always responsible for what happens on a ship."

Chakotay opened his mouth to say more, but she waved her hand to silence him. "I want a senior staff meeting in half an hour in sickbay to brainstorm."

Tuvok interjected. "You mean to include Lieutenant Torres? But she has just given birth."

"I'm quite aware of that, Tuvok," Janeway replied, resisting the temptation to roll her eyes, knowing her stalwart Vulcan security officer would never have made such a statement were it not for the neurological disorder affecting his mind. "But these are extraordinary circumstances, and she is the departmental head of engineering. We need her brains on this."

Chakotay grinned. "Besides, can you imagine B'Elanna's reaction if you tried to leave her out.?"

Tuvok's expression was a Vulcan version of horror, and he turned to exit. Chakotay remained behind as Janeway knew he would. "Okay, let's hear it."

"First." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Congratulations, Kathryn. You did it; we are home. Don't let the shadow of whatever might happen steal your joy of that fact. And second, I want your promise that you will not sacrifice yourself to protect the crew. They wouldn't want that."

Surprised, but pleased at his unusual show of affection, she indulged and hugged him. "First," she copied his manner of speaking, "it was all of us together as a team, as a family, who made it back. And second, I could say the same thing to you. The former Maquis wouldn't want their old captain taking the fall on their behalf. Besides, think-"

"I know," he interrupted her. "Think of what B'Elanna would say if I did."

They laughed together, and Janeway felt a surge of emotion as she regarded the man who had shared this amazing journey with her. The impending separation gripped her. "Chakotay-" Her throat closed off.

His expression changed, and he hauled her to him in a crushing bear hug. Her face was squashed against his chest, and she could hear the pounding of his heart. Once again, she wrapped her arms around him. There was no telling what lay before them, and there were things that were long overdue in being said. She eased back slightly, yet didn't separate from him. "Chakotay-"

"Shh, Kathryn." He stopped her with fingers to her lips. "No need for good-byes just yet."

Shaking her head, she took his hand. "We may not have many more opportunities, so I want to tell you how much I appreciate you, your friendship, and your support. Believe me when I say, we would never have made it home without you, and what's more, I would never have made it here without you. You're a fine officer and an even finer person. If Starfleet intends to prosecute the Maquis, you know I'll fight for you, but if things really go bad, I don't know how much help my word will be."

"I know, Kathryn, I know. We've talked about this many times. It's okay." He squeezed her fingers gently, and released her.

It was true, they had. Many discussions had taken place in the ready room or their quarters over dinner or a quick lunch. Their speculations on how things would pan out for Voyager upon return to the Alpha Quadrant had run the gamut of everything from the extreme scenario of incarceration for the senior staff, the Maquis, the remaining Equinox survivors, and their former Borg drones, right through to the other extreme of promotions for everyone and a ticker-tape parade.

Chakotay added as he propped his hip on the corner of her desk, "If things go really bad, we could always request adjacent cells in New Zealand."

Janeway grinned at him. "If most of the crew winds up in New Zealand, there could be some sudden overcrowding. We could always be accommodating and offer to share a cell to save space."

He burst out laughing, shaking his head at her. "After all these years, you still manage to surprise me."

"Well, we did share living space on New Earth for three months and got along quite well."

"That we did," he agreed. He reached out to take her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. "Plus, we've worked side-by-side for seven years, and managed not to kill each other. If the Delta Quadrant couldn't do it, I'm sure nothing here in the Alpha Quadrant can."

"True," she nodded.

They smiled affectionately at each other just as Harry paged Janeway. "Captain, you have an incoming call from Starfleet on a secure channel."

"Put it through, Harry." It was her turn to squeeze Chakotay's hand before stepping behind her desk. "And so it begins."

Chakotay stood. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No. It's probably a good thing to have corroboration. If you stand over there," she indicated with her head a corner behind her desk, "you'll be out of view range, but able to see the screen."

Once Chakotay was in position, she tapped the key to open the channel. She wasn't surprised to see the fleet admiral. "Admiral Necheyev. It's a pleasure to be talking to you this side of the galaxy."

The woman on the screen smiled. "It's a great pleasure indeed. And you are the only person I know who would think of hitching a ride with a Borg sphere." The admiral shook her head and tutted. "Quite the spectacular entrance, I hear."

Janeway shrugged. "It was the only taxi available at the time."

"Well, congratulations, Captain Janeway, and welcome home, however you managed it. Speaking of which," the admiral frowned in mock severity, "I don't know how you did it, but you've been back less than an hour, and I've already had over a dozen calls, including Mr. and Mrs. Kim, the United Press, plus your mother and your sister."

Janeway tried to look contrite. "Sorry to trouble you, Admiral."

"Like hell you are," Necheyev shot back. "Now, I'm actually contacting you to find out your ETA, and if you require any assistance with repairs. I'm sure your 'taxi' gave you a bumpy ride."

"We took a few knocks," Janeway conceded, "but nothing compared to what the Delta Quadrant usually dished out. Thanks for the offer, Admiral, but we've made it thus far on our own steam, and we'd like to finish the journey that way. Our warp drive is offline, and we have a few blown circuit relays that will need replacing, plus my chief engineer delivered her first child while we were enroute, so our ETA back on Earth would be about a week."

Necheyev's neatly groomed eyebrows rose. "The Borg, arriving back in the Alpha Quadrant years before you were expected, and a new baby joining the crew. You don't do anything by halves, do you, Captain?"

"We're just eager to get home."

Necheyev's expression sobered, and she leaned forward. "I should warn you, Kathryn, this is not the quadrant you left. We've experienced war on a scale unlike anything ever seen before. The casualties were enormous, beyond imagination."

Janeway nodded. "We did get some reports through the data stream, and believe me, all of us wished we were with you to help in whatever way we could."

"For your sakes, I'm glad you weren't here, because we lost more than enough excellent crews and ships. You probably would have wound up just being more 'canon fodder'. Between the Cardassians and the Klingons flip-flopping back and forth, the Breen, the shapeshifters, scheming Bajoran priests - well, the fallout has been huge. The Federation and Starfleet are very different now. Suspicion and paranoia still run high, and the hardliners now far outnumber the moderates. They make me look like a soft, fuzzy tribble by comparison." The admiral shook her head and sighed. "What you accomplished was nothing short of amazing, but not everyone sees it that way. I'll do what I can to help you, but judging from the reactions of many of the brass to the logs we already received from Voyager, I'm sorry to say, you could be in for a rough ride."

"I appreciate the heads-up, Admiral," Janeway replied, lacing her fingers together, "but my greatest focus is my crew. Of immediate concern is my Chief of Security, Tuvok. He is suffering from a neurological condition that requires a procedure called fal-tor-voh, a mind meld with a family member. Perhaps you could arrange to have someone from his family available when we arrive." Although there was no sound from the corner of the office, she felt Chakotay's interest sparked by this news.

"I can definitely have that looked after. It will take that long for someone to arrive from Vulcan. Anything else?"

"Any thoughts on how things could go for the crew, especially the former Maquis and the Equinox survivors?"

"What I think you can expect-" Admiral Necheyev stopped talking and her eyes shifted to the left. A voice could be heard in the background, but not the specific words that were spoken. However, the tone was urgent. When the admiral looked back at the viewscreen, her expression was unreadable. "Captain, I'm sorry but we'll have to continue this conversation at a later time. Again, welcome home. Necheyev out."

Slumping back in her chair, Janeway blew her breath out in a rush. She stared at the blank screen, starting at the gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Chakotay asked.

Although Janeway continued to stare at the screen, she reached up and grasped his hand tightly. "Early in my career, one of the examples I modeled myself after when it came to 'the captain's mask' was Alynna Necheyev." She finally turned her head and looked up at him with worried eyes. "That last look told me a whole lot more than any of her words did."

"A picture's worth a thousand words."

"Oh yes." She rested her head against his arm. "Our destiny may not be in our hands, and you know how much I dislike not being in control."

"I thought it was in the job description for captains - 'must be control freaks'," he teased.

She slapped his hand. "Hey, who are you calling a freak?"

He leaned against the desk facing her, and asked, "What's all this about Tuvok?"

"A little tidbit of futuristic information that Admiral Janeway offered to persuade me to return to the nebula. By the time she got back, Tuvok was insane." She shrugged. "It took some badgering on my part, but both the doctor and Tuvok confirmed the condition is already active."

Chakotay whistled. "How sadly ironic; such a controlled mind, completely losing control. Any other interesting tidbits on the future?"

Janeway was spared replying by a hail.

"Tuvok to Captain Janeway."

"Janeway here."

"Captain, the rest of the senior staff is assembled in sickbay."

"Thank you, Tuvok," she replied. "The Commander and I will join you directly."

"Acknowledged. Tuvok out."

Chakotay continued to stare at her. "Well?"

She should have known better than to think he would let it go. "The rest is no longer relevant now that we're back in the Alpha Quadrant." Her eyes drifted to the viewport, and the strangeness of the familiar stars. "However, I'm beginning to wonder if we may have exchanged the frying pan for the fire."

Still here we are, both of us lonely
Longing for shelter from all that we see
Why should we worry, no one will care, girl?
Look at the stars so far away

*****

Chakotay had to acknowledge it was the first time he'd ever been in a staff meeting where the captain held a newborn infant the whole time. After everyone expressed their approval of the Parises' new daughter, they got down to the business of how best to prepare for their arrival back on Earth.

In the midst of all the ideas flowing, Harry asked, "Why didn't we get any indication of Starfleet's negative position on us through any of the data streams we received?"

Captain Janeway replied, "Admiral Necheyev made mention of us arriving back years before anticipated, and I expect that's the reason. They've had a lot to deal with regarding the Dominion war, and they probably felt there was no point worrying about us, considering they believed it was not an issue they would face for years."

"In other words," B'Elanna stated, "they underestimated Voyager again."

"More specifically, they underestimated Voyager's captain again." The words were out of Chakotay's mouth before he could check them.

All eyes flicked from Chakotay to the captain. Her lips quirked in a small smile. "We're a family, a team, and we did this together. Now-"

"Captain, if I may," Tuvok interjected. "On behalf of myself and this crew, I thank you for your steadfastly focused leadership that has brought us to this place. You made a promise seven years ago to return me to my family, and you have fulfilled that promise for myself and us all."

Everyone stood shocked at the unusual emotional speech from the Vulcan. This, more than anything told Chakotay the veracity of Tuvok's neurological condition.

"Hear, hear," Tom agreed. He pointed from his wife to his daughter. "I would never have what I have now if not for you."

Blinking rapidly, Janeway held up her hand. "Thank you everyone, but let's focus on the task at hand. Each department head needs to contact their people verbally - nothing written down that can be traced. Here's what needs to be covered."

Quickly outlining the things that required immediate attention, Janeway dismissed the team, but requested Seven to remain. "B'Elanna, Seven, I have a special assignment for you both. You'll be able to do a lot of the work right here from sickbay, although knowing you, Lanna, you'll be up and around in no time."

Chakotay paused at the door to look back. B'Elanna lay on her side, a slight frown on her face as she listened to Captain Janeway. Seven stood beside the biobed, looking elegant and calm, intently focused. Both these young women's lives had been changed by the small, powerful woman cradling the infant in one arm, waving her other hand while talking at the speed of light. He smiled at the incongruous, yet apt scene.

Over the next several days, the crew scrambled to get Voyager "shipshape" for her arrival back on Earth. However, the captain vetoed a plan to get a cleaning crew out on the hull in e-vac suits to remove the many burns and dents from their latest Borg encounter, stating, "We earned every one of those marks. Just fix enough to make sure we're safe to fly."

The mood throughout the crew was a combination of excitement and apprehension. As expected, Starfleet curtailed outside communication, but that didn't prevent the ship from receiving news releases. And the major topic was the return of the long missing Starfleet vessel and her crew.

As the captain had predicted, B'Elanna was back on her feet in twenty-four hours, physically not at top speed, but mentally at full capacity. On one of his tours to check on the crew, he happened upon the new family in sickbay for a routine visit to the doctor. Everything seemed fine until B'Elanna suddenly gasped.

"What is it?" Tom asked worriedly.

The doctor quickly snapped open his tricorder again, but B'Elanna pushed his hand away. "I just had an idea. I need to get in touch with Seven right now."

More directives arrived from Starfleet, and the debriefing schedule for the crew was established: two weeks for the general crew, four weeks for senior staff, six weeks for the command team, and eight weeks for the captain. Kathryn confirmed to him that she'd had more communication with Necheyev and Paris, and her somber face told him much.

He made a decision and requested Seven to meet him after her shift one evening. As soon as she stepped into his quarters, he knew she knew.

"You requested to see me, Comm-Chakotay."

"Please sit down, Seven." He gestured to his couch. He smiled inwardly as the former Borg perched tensely on the edge of the seat. "I think you know why I asked you here."

Her head cocked to one side. "You wish to terminate our relationship. I concur."

It didn't surprise him; she was much more perceptive than most people gave her credit. "Yes, Seven. I think it's best for both our sakes. We know from the captain's communication with Starfleet that there will be a hearing regarding the former Maquis, and there could be judgments rendered. I don't want you drawn into it by association with me."

A flicker of a smile passed Seven's face. "And I doubt that your situation would be improved by being in a personal relationship with a former Borg drone. I do not wish to complicate matters for you further. Plus, should Lieutenant Torres and I be successful in our endeavor, Captain Janeway has made a special request of me that I have accepted."

He nodded. "Yes, I'm aware of that, and I think it would be good for you. But what about your aunt?"

"The captain informs me that Starfleet has allowed the crew two days with any family that are able to make it to Earth before debriefings commence. I will inform my aunt of my plans at that time."

Chakotay was aware that Starfleet had been concerned about security leaks, and only reluctantly agreed to the two days, pressured into it by the persistent and persuasive Captain Kathryn Janeway. She'd insisted that after seven long, hard years away from family and friends, her crew and their families deserved some time together before being sequestered for debriefings. His own sister Sekaya would not make it to Earth in time, but his cousin could easily transport from Ohio to San Francisco.

Seven rose from her seat and walked toward the exit. As the doors slid open, she looked over her shoulder. "I wish you well, Chakotay. And, although I don't yet understand this phrase, 'good luck' to you."

The door slid shut before he could reply. He murmured in the silence, "Good luck to us all. We're going to need it."

Tensions heightened as the day of their arrival on Earth approached. Finally, that long-hoped for day had come, and as Tom expertly landed the gallant little ship on the Presidio as directed by HQ, it was possible to see the excited crowd behind the barriers awaiting their arrival. Banners were flying, welcoming them home, some bearing the name of a specific crewmember.

Standing beside the captain, Chakotay was torn between watching the scene on the viewscreen, to watching Kathryn's face. She appeared impassive, but he knew her well enough to pick up the emotions flitting quickly across her expression.

Finally, they stood side-by-side at the hatch as each crewmember exited down the ramp. They were fully aware that this was the final time they would all truly be Voyager's crew. The sound of the crowd could be heard as each person exited.

At last, captain and commander stood alone, silently regarding each other. Five years ago on New Earth, they had stood thus, joy and sorrow intertwining as they had waited for their beam out. Now back on Earth, they were poignantly aware that the moment they stepped through that hatch, nothing would be the same again.

Together as one, they faced forward and exited their ship as the command team for the last time. The roar of the crowd rose up like a tidal wave to greet them.

I know it's late, I know you're weary
I know your plans don't include me
Still here we are, both of us lonely
Longing for shelter from all that we see

*****

The two days allotted for visitation had been bittersweet for Janeway. After Voyager had been declared lost, her mother had sold the old home in Indiana and moved to Tremaz to be with Phoebe and her family. That meant they were too far away to make it before the debriefings began, so Janeway talked with them via communications for hours at a time. To be so close, yet still separated was heart wrenching. She'd told them not to come, that she'd visit them as soon as she was on leave, privately wondering if that would ever happen. Knowing that their conversations were monitored, she'd been careful with what she shared, but she knew her mother was well able to read between the lines.

On her first day of debriefing, five admirals awaited her when she was escorted into the briefing room. The fact that Admirals Necheyev and Paris were there surprised her greatly.

She quickly realized this was the protection Necheyev had mentioned, because although she didn't recognize the other three admirals, she knew their type well. And the word "adversarial" was an understatement. Admirals Grinkov, L'Etresk, and Commorough were like the Hirogen circling their prey.

Several times the fleet admiral had to remind them that this was a debriefing, not a court martial. Once, Grinkov muttered sourly, "Should be." Unfortunately, he'd not spoken quietly enough, and the glare that Necheyev leveled at him almost made Janeway smile.

"Did you have something to say, Admiral Grinkov?" Necheyev's voice was deceptively quiet.

Grinkov's chin jutted defiantly. "I said…" He caught the fierce look directed his way as Necheyev leaned forward. "Oh never mind."

Some of her other concerns had been waylaid, for the Equinox, Seven and Icheb, and the crew's privacy. Admiral Necheyev almost looked amused when she commented how unusual it was that after a seven year journey, to find no personal logs on the computer, and the holoprograms on record were merely the standard originals. Oddly enough, the Equinox survivors had been a total non-issue. As far as the admiralty was concerned, they were Starfleet, obeying orders, and their former ranks had been immediately restored. Janeway had been relieved to see the news release that Seven and Icheb were safely on their way to Vulcan. She wondered how Tom and B'Elanna were faring, and little Miral. Admiral Paris had briefly mentioned meeting his daughter-in-law and new granddaughter, a look of delight in his eyes

Things had come to a head yesterday when Grinkov began grilling her about the many temporal infractions she'd been involved in. What surprised her, was his focus on Admiral Janeway.

Admiral Paris had challenged the man. "Ivan, you can't hold her accountable for something she didn't do. It wasn't her. It's still twenty-six years in the future."

Grinkov had stood to his feet. "Not her? Captain, did your EMH not confirm that Admiral Janeway was yourself?" She'd opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off. "Never mind. Let's ask it, shall we?" Grinkov tossed onto the table the mobile emitter and activated the EMH.

"Please state the nature-" He looked around in confusion, finally spying his former commanding officer. "Captain! What is going on here?"

Grinkov challenged the EMH, "Did you, or did you not confirm that the admiral from the future was one and the same person as Captain Janeway?"

"Why yes, I did. They were identical, except for the device in the admiral's brain, which I apparently invented, I might add. Captain, what-?"

"Deactivate EMH. There you have it. On top of everything, this 'mobile emitter'," he said with disdain, "is a violation of the Temporal Prime Directive. A device from the 29th century onboard a 24th century Starfleet vessel?"

Janeway had spoken up, "Sir, as you know, Voyager's entire medical staff was killed when the ship was pulled into the Delta Quadrant by the Caretaker. The EMH was all we had. If he had been limited strictly to sickbay all those years, many more of my crew would have died."

Slamming his hands on the table, Grinkov glowered at Janeway. "Because of your shortsighted actions allowing this Mark I EMH to expand its parameters, we had a quadrant-wide crisis here a few months ago. That holonovel of its caused a hologram strike. And it all began with you allowing the Mark I to overstep its place by unrestricted movement through that, that…"

He pointed indignantly at the emitter, then whirled and grabbed the guard's phaser. Turning back to the table, he pointed and fired. The mobile emitter disappeared, leaving only a charred mark on the table.

Janeway's eyes flashed and she breathed in sharply, but she quickly schooled herself to show no further reaction. Never had the captain's mask served her so well.

Necheyev was on her feet, shouting, "Admiral Grinkov, stand down immediately! How dare you pull such a stunt in a debriefing?!"

Grinkov handed the phaser back to the guard, a satisfied smirk on his face. The smirk disappeared at Necheyev's next words.

Her voice had gone deadly quiet. "Ivan, you and I have butted heads before, but this outlandish behavior is beyond endurance. You just destroyed Starfleet property. I'm removing you from this debriefing. We are adjourned for the day."

The look of hatred Grinkov had leveled at the fleet admiral as she swept out of the room was intense.

Now, Janeway checked the chronometer; she'd been waiting almost half an hour. Other than her escort standing at the back of the room, Janeway sat alone in the briefing room awaiting the arrival of the admirals. It was the first time she'd arrived prior to the admirals, and that fact concerned her greatly.

It had been six weeks. Six long, tedious weeks, the days filled with tension, the evenings filled with boredom. Without reports to occupy her nights, she'd read fourteen books, exercised to a level of fitness she hadn't experienced in years, but nothing kept the loneliness at bay. Other than her tenure on New Earth, she hadn't been away from her crew - her family - this long in seven years. Each passing day told her how integrated they'd all become in her being, in her heart.

The hearing regarding the former Maquis would begin today. All Maquis had been sentenced years ago in the Alpha Quadrant in abstentia. Amnesty had been declared for them during the Dominion war, however since her former crew had not served during that conflict, they would have to face a hearing. Her request to speak on their behalf was denied, but her records of their deportment on Voyager would be entered in as evidence on their behalf. It made her glad for the hours of meticulous record keeping she'd done over the years, and the final detailed report she'd written on each former Maquis. Necheyev had assured her the hearing was a formality, but Janeway had seen a look exchanged between the three hardliners that made her worried.

As she waited, she wondered exactly where Chakotay was at this minute. Although she missed all her crew, she missed Chakotay with a sharp-edged ache that surprised her. She missed his warped sense of humor, the comfortable ease of working with him, knowing they were always there for each other with an encouraging word. Together they formed an unbeatable team that was so much stronger than they were as individuals. She knew he and Seven had ended their fledgling relationship while still onboard Voyager, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that, but she couldn't deny the tiny sprout of relief that had bloomed in her heart.

The door opened and Janeway stood to attention as five admirals strode into the room. Admiral Grinkov was among the five, but Admirals Necheyev and Paris were not. Grinkov seated himself in the chair at the head of the table that Admiral Necheyev had occupied every day for the last six weeks. The other four sat two to each side of the table, all eyeing her with disdain. Janeway had not been released, so she remained at attention. A chill of unease swept through her as Grinkov began to speak.

"Admirals Necheyev and Paris are…" he paused, "unavailable today, so let's cut to the chase. You, Janeway, will announce your resignation at a press conference to begin in thirty minutes. When you are asked why, you will say you've already had the adventure of a lifetime, and now you wish to make up for the lost time with family and friends."

He nodded to one of the admirals she didn't recognize, who tossed a PADD down the table to her. Grinkov continued speaking. "The uninformed public holds you to be some sort of modern Ulysses, and were it not for the media furor over Voyager in general, and you in particular, Janeway, we would be headed straight for a court martial. You certainly gave us more than enough material to send you away for the next twenty-five years."

Janeway noted two things: first, Chakotay had been right about getting the word out about their arrival, and second, Grinkov never referred to her by her rank. She picked up the PADD to study its contents.

Admiral Commorough spoke. "I'll summarize that for you. First, your immediate full resignation. Second, after today's press conference, you will completely avoid talking to the media. Third, upon your acceptance of these terms, someone from Finance will arrange for an account of credits in your name at full captain's salary for the last seven years, plus your retirement fund."

She was being bought off. There had to be something else going on. "And if I decline?"

"That would be very unwise." Grinkov glared at her. "You see, at this very moment, all your Maquis friends are in court. If you accept the terms, their sentence will be commuted to seven years, time served, with a year of probation. They will also receive half the pay for each rank for the full seven years. However, if you do not accept these terms, they will serve the full sentence of twenty years for treason. The judge is awaiting our word that you have accepted the terms. What's it going to be, Janeway?"

Taking her time, she carefully read the PADD. It was as had been stated, minus the threat to the Maquis. She looked up. "What about the amnesty that was granted?"

L'Etresk answered. It was the first time the man had spoken in six weeks. "That amnesty applied only to the Maquis who served during the Dominion war."

"Why only half pay?" Janeway asked next.

Grinkov shot to his feet, and shouted, "It's more than those traitors deserve!" Breathing hard, he visibly worked to calm himself. "Now, do you accept these terms, or will you condemn your friends to twenty years in prison?"

She could call their bluff; they might be lying. But considering the unexplained absence of Admirals Necheyev and Paris, she would bet they weren't. She couldn't help wondering what her father would think of this new, hard Starfleet. It certainly wasn't the organization that he had served for thirty-five years before his death. And it wasn't the organization she'd joined over twenty years ago.

Holding the PADD, she tapped it against her palm. She looked up at Grinkov, ignoring the rest. "Full pay for each rank," she stated.

Grinkov looked at the other admirals for confirmation, then nodded, eyes glittering. "Agreed."

With the press of a thumb, she ended her career at Starfleet. One of the new admirals immediately slapped his communicator. "It's settled. Proceed as planned, but full credits."

I know it's late, I know you're weary
I know your plans don't include me
Still here we are, both of us lonely
Longing for shelter from all that we see

*****

It didn't take a weather expert to recognize that the winds of favor were not blowing in his direction. Chakotay had noted that not once during the whole six weeks of debriefing had he been called by his rank. If he was addressed by a lower rank, he got "Sir," but most of the time it was "Mr. Chakotay."

The second thing that told him any thought he might have entertained of continuing with Starfleet was mere fantasy, was the lack of a new uniform. The first day, as he stepped into his temporary quarters at HQ, one of the lieutenants escorting him said, "I'll see that you get the specs for the new uniform in your replicator, Sir."

The other lieutenant quickly pulled the young man aside, and whispered in his ear, glancing occasionally in Chakotay's direction. Those specs never arrived, so he used the refresher each night on his old style uniforms.

During debriefing, he'd answered each question as clearly and concisely as he could. One of the things he'd learned over the years was that when asked a question, don't give too much information, so he attempted to respond very specifically to their queries.

Six weeks had dragged by, and the aloneness was most keenly felt in the evenings - not much to do and no one to talk to. He worked out on the holodeck, took a couple of inconclusive vision quests, and wrote letters to every crew member, expressing his appreciation and praise for their conduct on Voyager. He found it interesting that the person he missed most was not Seven, not the woman he'd thought might become his companion through life. The face that was foremost in his mind was a diminutive, but dynamic redhead.

The news reports that he received showed that Seven had become the media's darling, and he was proud of how she handled herself. The paparazzi had been disappointed when Seven announced that she, her aunt, and Icheb had accepted the invitation of Lieutenant Commander Tuvok's family for an extended visit on Vulcan.

This morning Chakotay and his escort transported to a building he recognized as one of the courts. When he stepped through the doors, he spotted the rest of his former crew already seated in rows, all wearing their old uniforms. Although he was not surprised, he acknowledged a twinge of disappointment that Captain Janeway was not present.

As soon as he took his seat, the judge entered, and the clerk called the courtroom to rise. Once the judge took his place, they were ordered to be seated, but contrary to what he expected, proceedings did not begin. In fact, nothing at all happened. Watching the judge carefully, Chakotay could tell he was waiting for something, some signal. And a sense of uneasiness began to grow.

After almost fifteen minutes, Ayala impatiently muttered under his breath, "What's he waiting for? Let's get this over with."

Chakotay had a very bad feeling that came to a head when the judge's com badge chirped, and a disembodied voice said, "It's settled. Proceed as planned, but full credits."

With a sinking sense of foreboding, Chakotay slowly shook his head, thinking, Oh Kathryn, what did you do?

The judge announced the rendering: a twenty year sentence of treason commuted to seven years, their time on Voyager taken as time served, one year of probation, the record to stand in perpetuity, full credits for each rank. The latter had the stamp of Captain Janeway all over it, and he almost smiled. He was now a wealthy convicted felon.

The court session was finished in five minutes, and after ten minutes with a financial officer, they were escorted to the service entrance at the rear of the building. There they found an antigrav unit carrying all their belongings from their temporary quarters. Although their uniforms were several years out of date, they were required to immediately turn them in and change into civilian attire. It meant the indignity of scrambling over the unit to find their own bags. The men elected to change right there in the service entrance, allowing the women to use both the male and female washrooms to change.

As Chell hoisted his bag to his shoulder, he grumbled, "Obviously they want to see the backs of us as soon as possible."

The reason for the rear exit became obvious when they stepped out the doors: no press. However, no sooner had they rounded the corner than a person came flying at them - specifically at B'Elanna and Miral. It was a joyful, teary-eyed Tom Paris. The couple had been separated the entire time, although she'd been allowed to keep the nursing infant with her.

After a couple of minutes for a happy reunion, Tom explained he had been spending the extra two weeks getting reacquainted with his parents, but something strange had occurred today. He'd been completely unable to contact his father either at the office or at home. When he went to the family home, the place was in total darkness, and appeared to be without any power. After knocking on the door, he could hear his father's voice calling that they were okay, but the whole computer system governing the house had malfunctioned. Chakotay's concern deepened at that information.

"Hey everyone!" Ayala called. "Over here!"

The rest of the former Maquis quickly joined him before a public news screen. The broadcast flashed to a press conference in progress.

Chakotay wasn't surprised to see Captain Janeway announcing her retirement, surrounded by five very stern admirals he didn't recognize. She was thinner than when he'd seen her last, but it hadn't diminished the magnetic power that radiated from the woman. Those scowling admirals faded away like a still backdrop in a holomovie. He knew her well enough to recognize that the calm, smiling expression on her face didn't match the sparking anger in her eyes. When asked what she was going to do with her time now, her expression became downright saucy, and she replied that after a long visit with her mother and sister, perhaps she'd write her memoirs.

The startled looks directed her way from the admirals were very telling. He nearly laughed out loud. The brass mistakenly thought they were in charge, but he could have told them from seven long years of experience that nobody ever really controlled Kathryn Janeway.

"Well," B'Elanna commented, not taking her eyes from the screen, "I guess that explains everything, doesn't it?"

It certainly did. After ascertaining that everyone had someplace to go, Chakotay headed for the closest public transporter. Considering the awkwardness the former Maquis had just endured, he had to be there for Kathryn. He owed her that much. And more.

Deep in my soul, I've been so lonely
All of my hopes, fading away
I've longed for love, like everyone else does
I know I'll keep searching, even after today

*****

The moment they stepped behind the curtain, Grinkov rounded on her with a snarl. "You had better be kidding about those memoirs, Janeway. Just remember that everything regarding Voyager is classified."

"Actually, that's not entirely accurate, Admiral," she boldly replied. "There's a lot about Voyager's journey that is already public knowledge. Second, my personal logs are just that - personal. Mine alone. And third, you just ensured that I'm not a part of Starfleet any more, so you no longer have any say in what I do."

Grinkov sputtered as she turned to the two security officers hovering in the background. "Shall we, gentlemen? I'd like to get my belongs packed and head out." She strode off toward the transporter, leaving everyone scrambling in her wake.

The moment they beamed into the lobby of the temporary quarters, she recognized the pile of bags at the feet of two young officers standing stiffly at attention. She knew from their uncomfortable demeanor that she wasn't going to like what they had to say. A good defense was an offense, so she dove right in. "Lieutenant, Ensign. I see you've kindly done my packing for me." She wondered what they'd thought of the picture of her and Chakotay in Neelix's Hawaiian luau program.

Two sets of eyes shifted uncomfortably and a hint of red crept up the neck of the young male lieutenant. "Yes, ma'am. We were told to have your things ready for you, so Ensign Downey undertook that task." His eyes flicked to the young woman still standing at attention beside him.

Janeway knew they were just taking orders, but she felt disinclined to make it easy for them. So she waited, letting the tension string out. After several seconds, she said, "Perhaps I'll just go upstairs and check that you got everything, Ensign…Downey, was it?"

But as she stepped toward the lift, the lieutenant blocked her way. Still looking at a spot on the wall behind her, the young man said, "I'm sorry ma'am. I can't allow that."

Keeping her own expression impassive, Janeway stared into the lieutenant's face long enough that he licked his lips nervously. She felt some satisfaction knowing she still had 'it', even if she was browbeating some hapless lieutenant who was just doing what he'd been told. She turned to the ensign. "I assume you got everything, Ensign?"

"Yes, ma'am," the young woman replied eagerly. "I double-checked everywhere, even under the bed."

Never a fan of being called ma'am, she sighed inwardly. What else could they call her now? If they addressed her as Ms Janeway, she might have to hurt somebody. May as well get this show on the road. "Well, then-"

The lieutenant blurted out. "I'm sorry ma'am, they've asked for the return of the uniform." His eyes darted to her and quickly away.

Janeway had to suppress the urge to laugh. Fine. If Grinkov and his minions wanted this ancient uniform, they were welcome to it. But there was no way in hell she was going to dig around in her bags right here in the lobby looking for something to wear. She turned to the young woman. "Ensign, perhaps you could help me at the replicator. I'm a little out of touch with current fashion." As good a time as any to see if the financial officer had done his job and set up her credit account.

"Yes, ma'am. It would be a pleasure."

Slipping into the security office with her new clothes, Janeway stripped away the final vestiges of her tenure with Starfleet. When she exited the office, she felt oddly vulnerable, and held her head high.

The lieutenant offered her a PADD. "Ma'am, if you could just indicate a location, we'll see that your belongings are delivered there."

Janeway stared at the proffered PADD as a realization dawned on her. For the first time in her life, she was homeless. "I'll have to let you know."

She picked up her small shoulder bag, assuming there might be some toiletries she could use and headed down the long hallway. The only sounds were the boots of the lieutenant that magnified in echoes down the empty corridor. She felt very short in her soft-soled boots the young ensign had assured her were the latest fashion. At least they were comfortable.

Halfway down the hall, a screen recessed in the wall ran continuous news coverage. Janeway paused, watching the footage from today's announcement. She felt strangely detached from that woman, whose smiling face convinced the world that all was well. The expressions on the faces of the admirals flanking her were unreadable, but definitely not friendly, especially at her comment about writing her memoirs. It was followed by an old clip of their arrival back in the Alpha Quadrant.

She snorted and shook her head at the irony of not only being the hero, but the goat at the same time. Practically deified by the public and press, yet vilified by the organization she'd dedicated her life to for over twenty years. It was enough to make a person schizophrenic.

As she approached the outer doors for the last time, she felt an odd tightness in her throat and realized with surprise she was fighting tears. And, as ridiculous as it was at her age and after all she'd accomplished, she suddenly wanted her mother.

Her escort pressed the button to release the doors. She was shocked when the young man stood to attention and gave her an old-fashioned salute. Blinking hard, she swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Thank you, Lieutenant. As you were."

Through the clear doors, she could see night had fallen, the wind making the trees dance in shifting shadows. Settling her shoulder bag, she stepped outside the building, and immediately felt the splash of drops on her face; it was raining. "Perfect. Just perfect," she muttered. Now she was not only homeless and unemployed, but she was going to be soaked as well. She turned to ask the lieutenant if she could use the replicator again for an umbrella, but the doors had closed and he was already gone.

A gust of wind twisted her coat, and she turned back around in time to see one of the shadows resolve into a large, dark, very solid form in front of her. Heart in her throat, she dropped her bag and widened her stance in preparation for anything that might happen.

Deep in my soul, I've been so lonely
All of my hopes, fading away
I've longed for love, like everyone else does
I know I'll keep searching, even after today

*****

"What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" Chakotay was totally taken aback when Kathryn launched herself at him, not to attack him, but to throw her arms around his neck. When he turned his face to look at her, he was surprised to see her eyes were wet.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" she said with a watery smile.

"Hey," he replied gently, stroking her hair with one hand. "What did I tell you about not sacrificing yourself for us?"

She shook her head. "It's complicated, but if it makes you feel better, it wasn't just for you. I need to find out what's happened to Admirals Paris and Necheyev."

Picking up her bag, he pointed to the transporter station down the road. "Admiral Paris is safe, and I can tell you about it over dinner."

As though on cue, her stomach growled. "Sounds good to me, only where can we go that the press won't be hounding us?"

He grinned at her. "We're both pretty well off now, so let's get a hotel room and order every single thing on the room service replicator menu."

Laughing out loud, she took hold of his arm. "You're on! Only I'm not eating gagh."

He only now realized how much he'd missed the sound of her laughter.

The five-star hotel they picked had two conferences going on, but the desk clerk recognized them and found them a room. While in the lift, Chakotay filled her in on what Tom had said regarding Admiral Paris. Once inside the room, he tossed her a copy of the menu. "What do you want to order?"

"A rare steak, to start with." At his raised eyebrows, she mulishly stuck her chin out. "You asked, and that's what I want."

"Okay. I'll apologize to the animal on your behalf."

Kathryn placed a few calls and discovered that exactly the same thing had happened to Admiral Necheyev - total power loss at her house. No communication, no entry or exits possible. It was disturbing to think that the hardliners had that much control to bring such an event to pass.

"You realize there could be a war in Starfleet over this once Necheyev and Paris escape their own homes?" he pointed out as he punched in their orders.

"Doesn't matter to me. I made my decision and I'm sticking to it. Although, I remembered a saying my father used to quote, 'all it takes for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing' and was tempted to feel guilty for a couple of minutes." She made a face. "You know how good I am at that."

"You?"

"Smart ass. One good thing about all this business, though. It got me out of another two weeks of debriefing."

Over their shared desserts of crème brûlée and cherries jubilee, Chakotay asked, "Were you right about the EMH?"

Kathryn took a sip from her wine before replying. "Sadly, yes I was. At least Seven and B'Elanna were able to develop that phony mobile emitter with just enough memory in it to convince everyone."

"I wonder how the doctor will like life on Vulcan."

"I feel more sorry for the Vulcans."

With her face turned to the window, he studied her across the table. In the dimness of the flickering candlelight, the fancy surroundings faded away, and if it weren't for the familiar stars outside, they could almost be back on Voyager in her quarters, having dinner as they'd done so many times before.

Despite the lines of exhaustion on her face, and the shadow of sorrow that clouded her eyes, power even now radiated unvanquished from her. In the candlelight, her skin became almost translucent; she was undeniably a beautiful woman. Surprised, he realized he was still captive to her spell. To rescue himself, he commented, "You've lost weight. And if I'm not mistaken, you've shrunk too."

Turning her face back to him, she shook her head. "Actually, I've only lost five pounds; I just toned up a lot. With no reports do in the evenings, I spent my time either reading books, watching the news, or exercising. I even tried to get my guard to play velocity with me, but no go. However, I read over a dozen novels in the six weeks. I wanted to finish an afghan I'd started for Miral, but they wouldn't let me use my knitting needles."

"Probably afraid you'd skewer Grinkov with them."

"Not even the Vidiians would have wanted him; I'm sure his organs are too tough.

"Good thing The Think Tank fixed the Vidiians."

"As for shrinking," she made a face, then lifted her foot so he could see the flat boot, "the young ensign assured me that these are the height of fashion."

He couldn't resist teasing her. "Certainly not the height of much else."

She threw her napkin in his direction and turned her face back to the window. "How odd," she mused. "The stars don't move."

"Any thoughts on what you'd like to do from here on?" he asked. He couldn't imagine Kathryn Janeway not being out among the stars.

"Other than a long visit with my mother, my sister, and her family, I just want to get as far away from this city as possible."

He wasn't sure why this reply sent his heart crashing. "As far away as possible, huh? That sounds like the Delta Quadrant."

She snorted. "Thanks. Been there, done that, and as Tom would say, bought the T-shirt."

"Now there's something we could do, Kathryn. Sell T-shirts that say, 'I survived the Delta Quadrant'."

"The Delta Quadrant: more hostile aliens than Quark's bar," she quipped.

"If we did that, Quark would want a cut. But not all of the Delta Quadrant was bad."

"No," she conceded. "There was New Earth. There have been times - not many, mind you - that I wondered if it wouldn't have been better if Tuvok hadn't come back."

"Really?" To say he was surprised was an understatement. "You actually thought of what it would have been like to stay there?"

"Oh yes. When things would get really tough, it was my little mental escape. The freedom from responsibilities, the potential for…"

Surely it was merely the flickering candlelight that had tinged her cheeks a darker hue? His breath seemed frozen in his chest, and he knew her well enough to recognize she was struggling with a decision.

Finally she met his gaze. "Do you remember when we were trying get the slip stream to work?"

He did indeed. She'd seemed so desperate at that time. He recalled their dinner the night before he and Harry launched in the shuttle, how Kathryn had, in an unprecedented move, touched his cheek and given him a brilliant smile. An astounding realization shivered over him and his jaw went slack. She'd wanted- "You said, 'We've waited long enough.' You weren't just referring to Voyager, were you?"

Kathryn's expression softened, and she gave a tiny smile. "It was the first real opportunity we'd had since we received our letters from home a few months before."

Those bittersweet letters. He'd learned about the slaughter of the Maquis on Tevlik Moon, and she'd learned that her fiancé had married, leaving her officially unattached. "You started to distance yourself from me after the failed slip stream. I thought you blamed me for it."

She leaned forward. "I'm sorry you thought that, but I had to, Chakotay. That message from Kim's older self clearly implied that my selfish longing to get home, to be relieved of the responsibility of our people, all for the sake of a potential personal relationship, cost the lives of our crew."

"And that's why you turned to the hologram Michael Sullivan," he murmured quietly.

Nodding, she plucked at the edge of her plate. "Contrary to what some people believe, I am Human, and I knew I had to have some kind of emotional outlet."

He'd always had high respect for her, and now the level rose yet more. She'd silently done what she needed to in order to survive, and to preserve the lives of her crew. Right from the first day they'd met, he'd known that Kathryn Janeway was an extraordinary woman, and he'd never been more convinced of that fact than now.

She shifted in her chair. "I'm sorry, I've made you uncomfortable. I should get going. It's late, we're both tired, and I have to book passage to Tremaz in the morning." She stood, turning toward the door. "Maybe our friendly desk clerk can scrounge up another-"

"Stay." The word was out of his mouth before he'd barely thought it. Chakotay felt as if he was on the precipice of a monumental opportunity, one that if missed now, might never come again. "Kathryn, I don't want to be alone tonight, and I don't think you should be either. We upheld those damned protocols for seven years, and no one is going care what we do now. I know I'm not part of your future plans, but we have tonight. Unless, of course, you have a pressing social engagement?" He'd said everything he knew to say, and held his breath waiting for her response.

She stood silently, head down, a strange smile on her face. Finally she looked up. "No, actually my social calendar is quite open at the moment."

He held out his hand to her, and she placed her hand in his. "Computer, lights out."

I know it's late, I know you're weary
I know your plans don't include me
Still here we are, both of us lonely
Longing for shelter from all that we see
Why should we worry? No one will care, girl
Look at the stars so far away
We've got tonight, who needs tomorrow?
We've got tonight, babe
Why don't you stay? Deep in my soul, I've been so lonely
All of my hopes, fading away
I've longed for love, like everyone else does
I know I'll keep searching, even after today
So there it is girl, I've said it all now
And here we are babe, what do you say?
Turn out the light, come take my hand now
We've got tonight babe
Why don't you stay?

*****

It was so wrong. And perfectly right. It felt so strange, yet totally normal. He was her first officer, but he wasn't.

That morning she'd woken up a captain in the organization she'd given her life to, and now her career, her vocation, was gone. The constraints of the last seven years being suddenly severed, left her mind scrambling to catch up to what her heart and body seductively whispered. Touching him, kissing him, having him touch and explore her felt wonderful right, and scandalously wrong all at the same time, like some forbidden temptation long desired and finally realized.

In the rare times she'd allowed herself to think what it would be like to make love with Chakotay, she'd never imagined it like this. It wasn't that it was bad; she had a feeling sex with Chakotay could never be bad. But between the physical and emotional exhaustion, the stress of the last six weeks, the shocking developments of the day, she wasn't able to reach climax. Not the first time.

However, what they created together the second time was a thing of beauty. Chakotay was a generous, giving lover, patiently seeking her pleasure points with hands and mouth, openly receiving all that she gave him. The rough silk of his skin delighted her and she couldn't stop touching him. The feel of his mouth at her breast, his fingers between her legs, then the press of his largeness stretching her wide. The long, liquid slide, the rhythmic thrusts explosively shattering the past, washing away all the old for something brand new, fresh, and infinitely precious.

For the first time in years, Kathryn slept soundly. In the morning, she studied the face of the sleeping man beside her. It took all her famous self-control not to touch him, not to run her fingers over the bump in his nose, or the outline of his lips. His face looked both younger and more haggard in the repose of slumber. Features relaxed, softened in sleep, she felt she could see the little boy who had become this amazing man. Yet in that same relaxation, the shadows and lines gave stark evidence to the toll the last seven years had taken.

No one knew her better than this man. Everyone else in her life - her mother, her sister, even Mark - they knew who she had been, who she used to be. But she'd been changed by the Delta Quadrant, by all that she'd seen and experienced. It was impossible that any of them wouldn't be very different people. Chakotay alone really knew her - warts and all. He knew her strengths and her weaknesses, just as she knew his.

What they had shared would unite them forever, no matter what happened in their futures. She smiled gently. And the sex had connected them on a soul level that was deeply elemental, undeniable even through their initial awkwardness.

The smile faded from her face and she carefully began to slide out of the bed. Despite that rich connection, the entwining of herself with him, it hadn't changed her primary objective: to get out of San Francisco. She hoped he would understand. After a trip to the bathroom, she dressed and left.

*****

Deep in my soul, I've been so lonely
All of my hopes, fading away
I've longed for love, like everyone else does
I know I'll keep searching, even after today

Even before Chakotay opened his eyes, he knew she was gone. There was a stillness, a chill to the bed, an emptiness to the air. He wondered if that would be the state of his heart from now on.

Although not surprised, he was disappointed. The connection that had happened between them, despite their exhaustion, had been a powerful, weighty thing that held substance. Somehow he'd believed it would be enough. After all this time, he should have known better.

Quicksilver, that's what she was. Trying to hang onto Kathryn Janeway would be like trying to hold water. The harder you tried, the more it slipped away. He didn't blame her; how could he? She, more than any of them, had carried the weight of the journey, the need to maintain focus on the primary goal to get back to the Alpha Quadrant. And what thanks did Starfleet give her for that incredible achievement? The organization she had served most of her life unceremoniously drummed her out on her petite ass. He snorted in disgust; they didn't deserve her. It was no wonder all she wanted was to leave this city.

He completely understood the sentiment. Sighing, he stretched his arms back, touching the wall, then tucked his hands behind his head. As a young man, Starfleet had represented the future, a hope to escape what he thought were the confining, antiquated traditions of his tribe. His Holy Grail. Yet once grasped, that treasure proved to be deeply, indelibly tarnished. He shook his head in wry amusement. He'd been Starfleet, then Maquis, then Starfleet again, and now…now…

Throwing back the cover, he eased from the bed. Time to get washed, get some breakfast, and get on with his life. He knew there were many things he could apply himself to and find satisfaction and fulfillment. He just had to figure out what they were. And even harder, he had to figure out how to do it without Kathryn Janeway in his life. Years ago she'd said she couldn't imagine a day without him, and now the proverbial shoe was on the other foot. The last six weeks had been solitary hell, like diving from a hot tub into a pool of ice water - shocking, painful, and disorienting.

Although tempted by the unrationed water shower, he opted for the quicker sonic shower, allowing the sonic waves to cleanse away every trace of Kathryn from his skin. Unfortunately, it couldn't cleanse the memories from his mind. Her white skin, her warm touch, the arch of her back, the strength of her legs around his waist, the burnished flame of her hair spread across the white pillow. The sooner he was away from this place, the better.

He had just fastened his trousers when a loud banging erupted on the door, sending his heart into overdrive. His first thought was that Starfleet had changed their minds about the probationary time, and were here to take him into custody. The banging sounded again, and he realized the noise originated low on the door, as though being kicked. A glance through the peep hole set his heart pounding for a different reason, and he flung the door open.

"Oh, thank goodness you're up. Can you believe the Night Owl's been closed? Another good reason to get out of San Fran. Anyway, that location is a holographic game store now. I had to go six more blocks to…Chakotay, wake up, man! Could you please take something? If I drop the coffee after all that effort, I'll have to kill somebody, and you're the closest 'somebody' here."

Kathryn Janeway stood, arms full of stasis packages, frowning her best death glare at him, and he grabbed the top container that was threatening to escape her clutches. She scuttled as far as the table to carefully ease the rest of her burdens onto the surface. "Whew, just made it. I took a hovercab back, so hopefully it's still warm. I'm starved." She turned and with a crooked grin, openly ogled him up and down, her gaze centering on his bare chest. "Although looking at you, I'm not sure any more if I want breakfast or dessert."

He hadn't expected to see her at all, let alone looking vibrant, energized, and happy. Free. Seeing her standing there, her hair tousled and cheeks flushed from the early morning breeze, was almost surreal, like something from one of his vision quests. His mind butterflied from thought to thought. In seven years, they'd never held hands on a walk. They'd never had a proper date. He wondered if her mother would like him, if his sister would like her? He wondered how late checkout was.

"Are you planning on just holding that container of quiche or are we going to eat it sometime soon? Chakotay, are you all right? Say something." Suddenly she went very still, and her face became pale. "Oh. I see. You didn't want…I assumed…oh. I'm sorry, I'll get going and be out of your way." Back straight and head held high, she made to move past him.

The joy and exuberance had drained away from her face, and her expression was blank, guarded, empty of life. It was an expression he knew well, one he'd seen many, many times. He shot his hand out and caught her arm. Facing in opposite directions, their positions seemed a metaphor for so much of their private lives over the last seven years. She stood still, her face averted.

Bending his head, he whispered in her ear, "I thought you'd left me."

Her head whipped around so quickly that their noses almost collided. Her expression was a mixture of hope and confusion as she searched his face. Her features relaxed somewhat and she finally spoke. "Didn't you get my message?"

It was his turn to look confused, and she turned back to shuffle under the packages on the table to produce a message pad, handing it to him.

Good morning, my love. Sleep well? I'm off to the Night Owl to get us some real coffee (none of that replicated stuff!) and breakfast. Gods, I hope they're still there; I've been dreaming of their coffee for seven years! Anyway, I'll see you soon. Love, Kathryn.

P.S. I hope you're okay with visiting my mother & sister on Tremaz, because when I contacted them this morning, they both told me if I didn't bring you, not to bother coming! So get your cute butt moving and pack your bag while you wait for me. xxoo

Moving to hold her, he realized he still had the stasis container in one hand and the message pad in the other. He tossed them both in the direction of the table and heard the sound of them crashing to the floor as he gathered Kathryn into his arms. Her hands felt cold on his bare back, and he pressed his cheek against her temple. They slowly rocked together, side-to-side, in the instinctive soothing motion employed for eons by mothers comforting their children.

They both spoke at the same time. "I thought-"

Chakotay took her face in his hands, bowing his forehead to hers. "We're a pair of twits."

She nodded in agreement, her forehead rocking up and down against his. "A couple of nincompoops."

"Idiots." He began to smile.

"P'taks."

He lightly kissed her nose, then her mouth. "Well, I wouldn't go that far. Why don't we eat? All this emotional stress has made me hungry." He bent to retrieve the errant quiche, and began checking the rest of the containers on the table.

Kathryn grabbed for a container of coffee. "Can you believe that after six weeks back in the Alpha Quadrant, this is the first real coffee I've had? I had a replicator in my room, and I discovered that Starfleet's replicated coffee tastes exactly the same, no matter what the quadrant."

"Hopefully they have coffee on Tremaz." Chakotay hunted for some cutlery, then sat at the table.

Kathryn placed her hand on his shoulder, her thumb stroking the strong muscle. "So, you're okay with visiting my family? I didn't exactly ask you."

He shook his head while he chewed, and her hand slid away from his shoulder. "No, you didn't ask, but it sounds fine to me. Although I was wondering if we could make a little detour."

"As long as it's not back to the Delta Quadrant, or a visit to the Q Continuum, I'm up for it," Kathryn teased with a smile. She popped open a couple of containers, taking a slice of quiche and a croissant for herself.

"Nothing so dramatic. Just Ohio. My sister is visiting my cousin, and I thought we could stop in there for a few days or so. Unless we have to be at Tremaz by a specific time." Strange how easy it was to slip into "we".

Kathryn waved her knife and fork around. "Actually, my schedule has never been freer."

They ate in a comfortable silence until Chakotay noticed Kathryn stealing occasional glances at his bare chest and arms. When her gaze slid lower, he commented, "So, you think I have cute butt, do you?"

She rolled her eyes at him, but continued to stare at him, a gentle smile on her face.

Finally he had to ask, "What?"

She took a sip from her cup, not taking her eyes from his. "I can look at you now. Really look at you, as long as I want, with no concern about what anyone else thinks."

Unable to help himself, he began smiling back. "And what do you see?"

Her reply was prompt. "My future."

We've got tonight, who needs tomorrow?
Let's make it last, let's find a way
Turn out the light, come take my hand now
We've got tonight babe
Why don't you stay?
Why don't you stay?

The End

Feedback? Please.

© Brianna Thomas, January 2008 Please email me to post/distribute elsewhere.