A First Time For Everything

For such a long time, my life had been a jumbled mess of anger, hatred, hurt, pain and loss. Tightly intertwined, for years they fed off each other, spreading poison throughout my life like festering sores. Whatever path I chose, it seemed to end in desolation. I was always out of sync, like a dancer who couldn't quite get the right steps, always either too early or too late.

The first time I met Kathryn Janeway, I wondered how someone so small could hold the power to completely change a life? Yet in that moment when she fearlessly leaned into my chest and demanded I give to Paris the same respect that I would insist she give to any member of my own crew, it was done. No matter what became of us - our ships, our crews - I knew the direction of my life had just taken a major turn.

Much later, alone in my sterile new quarters, I took a vision quest. My sister guide was there to greet me with a wolfish smile, cryptically telling me it had taken me long enough to find the right path. She showed me a beautiful plant whose fragrance was as sweet as anything I've ever smelled. Yet around it were piles of vile-smelling, rotting garbage. As I watched, the plant absorbed the garbage into itself, one pile after another, until only the sweet smell remained.

When I emerged from the quest, my comm badge chirped.

"Janeway to Chakotay."

"Chakotay here. What can I do for you, Captain?"

"How's your leg feeling?"

I had almost forgotten the injury I'd sustained while on the Ocampa homeworld. "Not bad, thanks. It stiffens up if I sit for too long."

"Well Commander, I was wondering if you'd care to stroll the decks with me? It helps me think when I do that, and it would give us an opportunity to talk. You can better familiarize yourself with things as well. How does that sound?"

Something lifted inside my chest. "It sounds just fine. Where shall I meet you?"

There was the slight sound of laughter in her voice. "Right outside your door, Commander. I just happen to live next to you. Oh, and by the way, think you could spare a couple of rations for a cup of coffee?"

I smiled for the first time in a long while.

Captain Janeway had a reputation for being very tactile, and although she'd patted my arm or shoulder before, it had always been with my uniform on. The first time that the captain touched me, really touched me, was after our encounter with the Komar and my consciousness was returned to my body. Strangely enough, it was Neelix I was able to reach to align the stones properly on my medicine wheel to draw a map for Voyager to get out of the dark nebula.

When the ship was safe, the captain came to check on me in Sickbay, and it was obvious that she was very pleased to see me. She smiled that incredible smile of hers, and in spite of B'Elanna's presence, put both her hands on my shoulder. On my bare shoulder. When she asked how I was feeling, I could quite honestly tell her that I was a little dizzy. Although her hands were cool, I felt like I'd been branded and would bear the mark for the rest of my life.

As much as I love B'E, I wish to all the gods that she'd made herself scarce that day.

I could have hugged him. Somehow he knew how nervous I was waiting to hear how many of the crew wanted to settle on the planet of the 37's. I really didn't want to lose any of them, but I could see how it would appeal to some of the crew to put down roots in a secure place. We had been travelling for a year, and although we'd made great progress, we still had a tremendous distance to go. And we had no reason to believe that the hostilities and opposition we'd faced thus far would ease any time soon. When Chakotay and I talked in my ready room, I probably needed his support more at that moment than I had at any point so far on our strange journey.

Later, when we stood outside the cargo bay together and he put his hand on my shoulder, I felt that touch right through my very being. Other than when he introduced my to my animal guide, I'm pretty sure that was the first time that he deliberately touched me. I'm confident I would have remembered if it had happened before. Combined with the relief of the sight of that empty cargo bay, it was simply overwhelming. We were going on, all of us. I think it was at that point that Chakotay and I became a true team.

I'd somehow always seen Captain Janeway as a strict 'by the book' sort of individual. It came to me, all of a sudden during our second year, just how wrong I was. Yes, she held to the Prime Directive like it was a lifeline, but there was a lot more to the woman than just Starfleet rules and regs.

I thought she'd be pissed to hear that a couple of her crew was necking in the turbolift. Instead, she told me it was natural that people would start to pair up. I don't know what demon made me ask if that included her, and no sooner had the words escaped my mouth than I was positive she'd take my head off. Or at the very least, tell me to mind my own stinking business. But she simply replied that wasn't an option for her and that she intended to get home before Mark forgot who she was. As if any man who'd ever met her could do that.

And for the first time, I was jealous of a man I'd never met, one who was thousands of light years away, and probably still mourning the believed loss of the woman he loved.

That day, Captain Janeway was torn between helping Kes through a distressing time for the two-year-old Ocampan, and dealing with what looked like a jealous spawning whale. I'd always heard that Vulcans actually did possess a sense of humor, but had never seen it in action until after the success of my suggestion that Voyager try to assume a submissive posture to placate the dominant whale. Tuvok's comment that we seemed to have lost our sex appeal nearly made me laugh out loud. That's when the captain did it. Right there on the bridge, in front of everyone, said that if she needed any mating advice, she'd know who to come to. And that was the first time, but certainly not the last, that Kathryn Janeway totally and completely shocked me.

I'd never seen her hair down until the day she came back from rescuing Tuvok and B'Elanna from the Mokra. I knew from her voice over the comm that although she was all right, all was not well. So as soon as things settled down and we were away from the planet, I went to find her.

When I'd heard her voice over the comm, the relief I felt showed me just how afraid I'd been for her. I actually hadn't known it until that moment. When I read Tuvok's report on what the Mokra had done to him, the idea that it could just as easily have been the captain almost made me vomit. I had this awful feeling that it would not be the last time that Kathryn Janeway would scare me half to death. Of course it was just the concern of a first officer for his captain. Of course it was.

She'd just been released from being checked over in Sickbay and was slowly walking to her quarters, head down, obviously deep in thought. The dress she was wearing was exotic, seductive. In fact, to be honest, it looked like a prostitute's dress, showing way more of her skin than I'd ever seen before. Her hair was loose and swirled halfway down her back, looking somewhat tangled. It startled her when I spoke. "Captain."

"Oh. Chakotay. I'm sorry, I didn't see you."

We kept walking. She looked almost disoriented, as if she'd been many miles away and was surprised to find herself where she was. "Are you all right?" Stupid question. It was obvious that she wasn't. It wasn't until later when I read her report that I understood what had happened. Even through the clipped words of a sterile report I was able to see what a bond had been made and then severed between Kathryn and her surrogate father, Caylem.

"I…I'll be fine. Nothing that a bath, a meal and a good night's sleep won't help."

At least she hadn't said that she was fine, only that she would be. She was fingering a strange looking necklace. I reached out and touched it. "A gift?"

The smile was shaky. "Yes. It's…a family heirloom, you could say."

I could see the pain in her eyes. "And now it's yours."

She just nodded. We had reached the doors of her quarters. I was about to leave her when she stopped me with a touch on my wrist. "Would you come in for a bit, please?" She had never made such a request of me before. There was a fragility about her that I'd never seen.

"Would you like something from the replicator?" she offered as she headed to her bedroom. I really didn't, but it seemed she needed to talk or something, so I helped myself to a tea, and handed her a coffee when she returned in a loose tunic and leggings, hairbrush in hand.

Shrugging ruefully, she seemed to feel some explanation was in order. "If I don't brush the tangles out before I shampoo it, I'll never get them out and have to cut it. Which might not be such a bad idea. Tell me what happened with the ship."

I set aside my unwanted tea and took the brush from her hand. "I have…" The pain shot through me as it always did, and I corrected myself. "I had four sisters. Why don't you let me do that while you drink your coffee and I'll give you the report."

There was only the slightest hesitation on her part before she sat at one of the dining room chairs, turning her back to me. As I talked, I began at the bottom ends of her hair, slowly working out the tangles, bit by bit. Although a little dusty, it was still soft like fine silk. Red-gold silk.

I tried to think of more things to say to make the report longer. Finally her hair was tangle-free and there was nothing more to tell. I stepped around her to find her eyes closed. They opened as I placed the brush on the table. There was still an air of melancholy about her, but not the heavy sorrow of before.

"Thank you, Commander. Seems like you had everything well in hand here." She ran her hands through her hair, a move that briefly raised her arms. A tiny smile. "You even took care of this mess, too. Any other hidden gifts, Chakotay?" As though she realized what kind of a sentence she'd uttered, she turned away.

Now would be a good time to leave so I headed for the door. "Oh, I'm pretty much an open book, Captain."

That brought a real smile to her face. "Now that's something I don't believe for a second."

I have always loved being a Starfleet officer. In spite of being a small female, the rigors of cadet training had been blissful to me. While on the one hand, I was ambitious, on the other, it really wouldn't have mattered to me if I'd never gone far in my career. Just to be a part of Starfleet was enough.

The only thing I regretted when I was promoted to captain was that my father wasn't alive to see it. I knew he would have been so proud. Some, who believe in such things, would say that he knew anyway. My mother and sister were there the day they pinned that fourth pip on me, and the picture someone took of the three of us sat on my credenza in my ready room. I looked so unbelievably young and naive, grinning like a Ferengi with an armful of latinum.

There were many times that I felt inadequate to the task of captaining Voyager's crew, but I never regretted my position. While it was a challenge that often seemed beyond me, it was an honor and a privilege that I was always proud to carry out.

At first, when Chakotay and I were stranded on what we called New Earth, the loss of that position was a painful adjustment. I'd spent almost two whole years never hearing my own name spoken by anyone except me when I introduced myself in so many first contacts. 'Captain' was who I had become. On that idyllic planet, gradually, with the help of hearing my name spoken every day by Chakotay, I began to rediscover just who Kathryn was. And through his eyes, I saw that she was actually a likeable person, not just a fine officer.

As we inevitably drew closer together during those months, I learned about myself as well as about my former first officer, who had become my friend, and it seemed would be my partner in life on that planet. We were a team of two, taking up the challenge of making a good life for ourselves. And it was good. And would have been - could have been - very, very good.

Except that Voyager came back. A cure for the ailment that had stranded us there in the first place had been found. As wonderful as it was, the shock was almost harder to adjust to than being left on that planet in the first place.

As we dressed that morning in our uniforms, I felt like I was putting on a suit of armor over my soul, over Kathryn, once again. Chakotay's face was expressionless as he wordlessly took my pips from my hand and pinned them on my collar for me. His fingers brushed my neck as he did so, and for the first time ever, I regretted being a Starfleet captain.

There had never been an exchange of vows between us. No words of love, or commitment. No romantic touches of any kind. Yet that first day when I couldn't look Kathryn in the eye after what I'd done, I knew I had betrayed something sacred. And I knew she knew it too. I didn't see her face, but I heard the change in her breathing, saw the slow clench of her hand into a fist, saw the change of posture as she pulled herself upright into her captain's stance to welcome Dr. Riley Frazier onboard Voyager.

A few moments of pleasure and release turned to ashes in my mouth, and I nearly had to ask to be excused from that meeting so I could find a place where I could throw up. Guilt, shame and remorse were what I felt. I had betrayed her, betrayed us. And as much as someone might say there was no 'us,' I knew otherwise. I felt like I needed a shower with a scrubbing brush and laundry soap.

When it was all over and Dr. Frazier had accomplished what she really wanted, I sat on the biobed in Sickbay while Kathryn and the doctor talked. I tried to analyze what I was feeling. The shame and remorse were still there, but the guilt had quadrupled. I had shot B'Elanna, one of my closest friends, and activated a Borg cube; not bad for a day's work. Now I also I felt angry, used, manipulated, gullible and stupid. Again.

While my head knew that at the time of my liaison with Riley I had been under the influence of the partial assimilation, I could not get away from the shame I felt. What made me really angry though, was that as I sat on that biobed, absently listening to Kathryn and the EMH, I realized that Riley would have known from the Borg link how I felt about Kathryn. She would have known of the fiasco with Seska, and that I had been alone since that time. And she used me.

I barely noticed when the doctor and captain finished talking until I became aware of Kathryn standing close to my leg. As I slid off the biobed, she asked me, "How are you, Chakotay?" So I told her. She told me all the things that I already knew; I'd been influenced in a typically overbearing Borg fashion, and so on and so forth. It didn't change what I felt, and I told her that too.

She wouldn't leave me alone that evening, insisted we have dinner. On the one hand, I didn't want the company and on the other, I was afraid to be alone with my thoughts. The question hovered in the back of my mind - would they be my thoughts only?

I was surprised when she wanted to know what it was like, and I knew exactly what she was asking. So I did my best to describe to her the amazing sensations of feeling my own pleasure and another's at the same time. Although my words described a positive experience, something in my voice told her my true feelings.

"You regret it?" she asked. I just nodded. Shaking her head at me, she took my hand. "Don't. It was a very…unique experience, and you should remember it like that." She stood to leave.

At the door, she paused then looked back at me. "Although I don't really consider it necessary, if it makes you feel better, I forgive you."

She had given me understanding, compassion and absolution, all in just a couple of sentences. It was at that moment that I knew without a doubt that I loved her.

The first time that Chakotay held me was after we lost Kes and gained Seven of Nine. Some trade it seemed at the time; our loving, gentle Kes for an austere, unfeeling Borg. I was in the arboretum. It was the place I often went when I needed solace. That night, my heart was filled with sorrow and dread. Sorrow at losing one of the sweetest, dearest friends I have ever been privileged to know, and dread at the seemingly impossible task that lay before me of re-humanizing a Borg. That night, it felt like this quadrant was nothing but loss and hardship, and I did not feel up to the task of captaining this crew home to safety. The cost was increasing almost daily.

I remembered the first time we met Kes. So tiny, obviously malnourished and mistreated. There was a combination of curiosity and fear in her eyes. Wisdom and naiveté. Such a dichotomy was our Kes. Our Kes. She belonged to us all, yet she was herself. What would the doctor have been like had it not been for Kes's influence? What would Neelix's life have been like without Kes to soften and strengthen him? How could one so young advise so many with such insight? If ever there was a time I needed Kes's insight, it was now, what with a Borg regenerating in the cargo bay.

So caught up in memories was I that I didn't hear the doors, yet his voice didn't startle me. "Penny for them," he said.

I smiled without looking up. "Oh, these thoughts are worth much more than just a penny."

"Ah. Thinking about our Kes. Yes, those thoughts are worth quite a lot. A veritable treasure trove of memories, I'd say."

I looked up at him then. So strong, so resilient. It seemed to me that he was like a palm tree; firmly rooted, but able to sway with the violent winds that blew now and then. We'd been so angry with each other over the agreement with the Borg; both of us wrong and both of us right at the same time. Yet here he was, somehow knowing I needed help tonight. "Chakotay," was all I could say, and he took my hand, pulling me to my feet and into his arms.

He just held me that night, nothing more. Wrapped his big arms around me and helped this shaky captain find her feet again. I felt his solidness, his strength, his support, his care. I really knew that day that I wasn't alone and never had been.

The first time, at least that I'm aware of, that Chakotay lied to me came the day after I'd cut my hair. When I had Susan do it, I was convinced it was the right thing to do. The long hair was a time-consuming bother, and no matter what style I tried, up or down, tied back or whatever, to me it never had the look I wanted to portray - professional but not stuffy. But the moment the last strand landed on the cutting floor, I knew I had made a mistake.

I'd warned Chakotay I was going to do it, and I'm glad that I did. During the morning staff meeting, he just looked at me and gave me his quirky grin. The others basically had their jaws on the floor the whole time, except Tuvok, and even he couldn't seem to get his eyebrow to come down.

After I dismissed everyone, Chakotay stayed behind, as I knew he would. "All right. Go ahead and say it. It's awful, isn't it?" I prompted.

He took his time. He walked all the way around me, before propping his hip on the table in front of me. "No, it's not awful. It's a nice change. And besides, if you find you don't like it, hair grows."

I just stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. My honest-as-the-day-is-long, tell-it-like-it-is, first officer par excellence and friend, was lying to me with a straight face. I started to laugh and so did he. I shook my head at him. "And you say that you're no good at diplomacy."

The first time that we nearly kissed came right after we'd received our letters from home, and Tuvok and Seven had their close encounter with the Hirgen. Lovely people, the Hirogen. As B'Elanna says, you wouldn't want to meet them without a bat'leth in hand.

Chakotay came to my ready room after it was all over and asked me how I was doing. He knew me so well - wouldn't let me say what I was going to, which was, "Fine." He made me tell him the truth, and we talked about my lack of a safety net now that I knew that Mark was married. Chakotay held his hand out to me and I took it. I'm not sure who leaned into whom, but it would have happened, had Neelix not paged us to come to the party. Chakotay shrugged off the situation, saying I had lots of time.

There had been other times when it was obvious that one or the other of us was tempted. But that time was the first that we were both ready. And it would have happened if not for that comm call. As much as I had come to appreciate Neelix, just then I wasn't sure whether to be grateful to him or to space the little twerp.

The first time, the only time, I deliberately deceived Kathryn, was after the fiasco with the Moneans. After I got her to eat some of the dinner I had cooked in her quarters, I told her I had a few things to check on. Then I headed directly to the brig.

I didn't even have to say anything to Dalby; we'd spent enough years together in the Maquis that he recognized the look on my face. Without a word, he stepped outside. I deactivated the forcefield, walked over to the sleeping form of Ensign Tom Paris, and hauled him blinking to his feet. He's taller than I am, but after two solid punches to the gut, he was a lot shorter.

I had to hand it to the slug; after gasping a few times, he managed to croak out, "You trying to get yourself thrown in the brig too, Chakotay? 'Cause that's what'll happen when…"

I slammed him into the wall, angrier than I'd been in years. That night the angry warrior was back in full force. "Shut the hell up, Paris," I growled into his face. "You are something else, you know that? Today you managed to accomplish something that nobody else in this godforsaken quadrant has. No hostile alien, no dire situation or horrendous loss. Just you."

Pretty boy Paris smirked at me. "Sounds like quite an accomplishment. So why are you beating me up, then?"

I threw him onto the floor, sorely tempted to kick that expression off his pretty face, but that would leave a visible mark, and I knew better than that. I could and would cut him so badly, shred that smug look with just one sentence. "Because, you self-centered son of a bitch, today for the very first time since I met her, I saw Kathryn Janeway cry. And for that, I will never forgive you."

I waited just long enough to see his face crumble, see him draw his knees up to his chest before I turned and stepped out of the cell. By the time I had reset the forcefield and walked across the floor to the door of the brig, I could hear the quiet sobs behind me. Good.

When I exited, I nodded to Dalby and headed back to the turbolift. Once inside, I leaned my head back against the wall. Yeah, good. Damn good.

Then why didn't I feel any better? Why did I feel so lousy?

I think that deep down I must be a very rebellious person, because as soon as someone says to me, "you can't, Kathryn," something rises up in me to demand, and just why not? Although I knew perfectly well what the doctor was saying during our conversation outside of Sickbay while he was still wearing the priestly robes from Fair Haven, somewhere deep inside me something rebelled at being told what I could not do.

"But you're the captain. You can't have a relationship with a member of your crew; they're all your subordinates. So where does that leave you - the occasional dalliance with a passing alien? Voyager could be in the Delta Quadrant for a very long time. A hologram may be the only logical alternative."

"You can't have a relationship with a member of your crew…A hologram may be the only logical alternative."

Logical alternative. Tuvok would be so pleased with the EMH. Even Chakotay had politely endorsed whatever step I chose to take. His simple sentence, "I've never let that stand in my way," told me two things - that he took release in holograms and that he saw no reason for me not to as well. I also knew that beyond Chakotay's encouragement to me, it was his way of telling me that he did not look to a person onboard for sex, and I found my reaction curious. It was relief.

I understood all the reasons for the doctor's statement. It could, and more than likely would, compromise the chain of command. What if the relationship didn't work out? What then? There was no other ship to transfer to. How would my lover take to being ordered around by me, or by seeing me place myself in danger? And how would I order the man I loved into a dangerous, potentially deadly situation?

I rubbed my forehead. Now I was stuck with a hologram that had made a spectacle of itself, and me, by causing a brawl in Fair Haven over my absence. If there was one thing I hated, it was having my private life made, well, un-private, and Michael Sullivan had done a superb job of that. Michael - the hologram designed by Tom, but tinkered with by me to suit my preferences. My preferences. A thought popped into my head, and I sat still in shock. "No. It can't possibly be true." I sighed. Who was I kidding?

I checked with the computer and found that holodeck two was available for the next forty minutes. More than enough time for what I needed to check out. As soon as I entered the holodeck, I called for the computer to once again display the holocharacter Michael Sullivan. A slight sizzle sounded and there he was, the charming Irish barkeep. I thought of the modifications I'd previously made.

"Computer what is the height of this character?"

"The holographic character Michael Sullivan is currently 181 centimeters."

Currently. Interesting choice of word, considering I had deliberately made it taller. I closed my eyes; here was the acid test. "Computer, what is the height of Commander Chakotay?"

"Commander Chakotay is 182 centimeters tall."

Hand over my mouth, I opened my eyes and stared at the unmoving hologram.

I'd made Michael one measly centimeter shorter than Chakotay. In addition, I'd given him a classical background, and as proven over the years and on the bridge just the other day, Chakotay knew all about the classics. Michael had dark hair and eyes. So did Chakotay. I'd made Michael more provocative and Chakotay was…better to not go there. Take away the bad skin and the Irish accent, and you had the beginnings of…what?

I looked away and sighed. It didn't take a Starfleet counselor to figure out what was going on here. The hologram had become a poor quality substitute for Chakotay. And to think I'd been considering locking myself out of the parameters of the character and pursuing a relationship with it. An actual intimate relationship - not just sex - with a permanent holocharacter in a long-running program who could never share my life, never understand my reality, never be there for me at the end of the day or the beginning of the next.

Unlike what the doctor, and undoubtedly most of the crew assumed after the spectacle that Michael had made, I had not had sex with the hologram. Not yet. But I had been thinking about it - very seriously - yet something had held me back. Now I knew what that something was. I wondered what sort of holograms Chakotay created for that purpose. It wasn't exactly the kind of thing a person brought up in dinner conversation.

The only thing I didn't have with Chakotay, was a physical relationship. We shared a wonderful friendship of common interests, laughter and stimulating conversation. We understood one another well enough that we could almost think each other's thoughts. I'd never had such a relationship before, not even with Mark. And there was just no way I was going to seek out a cheap substitute simply to get that last dimension. Whatever I did in regard to that, and I didn't know just what I was going to do, it wasn't going to happen with a character like Michael Sullivan.

Now I had a choice to make. I paced around the still inactivated hologram. Part of me was tempted to simply reset the parameters back to their original settings, and wipe the memories of all the holocharacters of any knowledge of 'Katie O'Claire.' I shook my head. Not only would the doctor be offended at my highhanded dealings with his fellow holograms, but also I couldn't wipe the memories of the entire crew who had witnessed the recent debacle in the pub.

So what did that leave me with? Activating it to have a 'dear John,' conversation with it? I could just hear myself. 'Michael, I'm sorry, but this isn't going to work. We're just too different.' That was an understatement.

Deciding for the moment not to decide, I ended the program and headed back to my quarters. It was just as I stepped into the turbolift that something occurred to me, so profound yet so simple. Something I'd probably known for years, yet only now was acknowledging to myself.

Fact was, I already regularly did send the man I loved into dangerous situations.

My dilemma over what to do regarding the holocharacter resolved itself the very next day. The neutronic wavefront we encountered made it necessary to use every particle of energy on the ship - including the holodecks - to escape it. There hadn't been enough time to follow the proper shutdown sequence, and Fair Haven was seriously damaged. When Tom approached me about what parts to reconstruct, I told him to do just enough for the crew to be able to enjoy the program again.

Chakotay and I left together at the end of the shift, an unusual occurrence for both of us. We leaned against opposite walls in the turbolift.

"Are you disappointed about Fair Haven?" he asked.

I looked at him, strong, caring and so real. "No, not much, actually. While it was fun, I've decided that I prefer reality for the most part. What are you doing this evening?"

He looked a little confused at my quick change of topic, which was what I'd intended. "Nothing much. Was that an invitation for dinner?"

"Was that an acceptance?" I tossed back at him. As we exited the lift, I linked my arm through his.

He grinned down at me from his lofty height of 182 centimeters. "Your rations, but I'll do the cooking."

The first thing I saw when I woke up in Sickbay was Chakotay's face. It's hard to describe the joy I felt. When I tried to sit up, the pain that shot through me made me gasp and brought him out of his chair.

"Easy, Kathryn." He helped to prop me up and then did one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me. He looked over his shoulder to ensure the absence of the doctor, then handed me a cup of coffee. It's probably just as well that I couldn't move much or I'd have kissed him.

Pulling his chair close, he told me how Tuvok and B'Elanna were doing, reported on the operation and the repairs, handing me the PADDs he knew I'd want. Just as he was about to leave he hesitated as though he wanted to say something more, but wasn't sure that he should.

"Out with it, Chakotay. May as well tell me now when I'm too tired to argue with you."

He took my hand and when he looked at me, his eyes were suspiciously bright. In a rough voice, he said, "I've seen and heard a lot in this quadrant. But the singularly worst thing I have heard in the last six years was when the doctor announced that your lifesigns were destabilizing. I knew that meant the Borg had assimilated you." He raised our joined hands to press the back of mine against his cheek. "Kathryn, why is it that every time we encounter a Borg cube, you wind up on it? Please, I'm begging you, stay away from Borg cubes. I'm not sure I can take this again."

Although he tried to sound lighthearted, his distress was genuine, and it occurred to me that just maybe he still felt something for me, something more than friendship. I turned my hand in his to pat his cheek. "I promise I'll try."

He brought my hand around and kissed the palm, sending a shiver through me. "That's all I can ask," he said.

The first time I kissed Kathryn was after she came back from Quarra. I knew she was hurting badly, but I wasn't sure of the exact cause of the pain. Was it having her memories, and those of her crew's manipulated in that fashion? The affair with Jaffen? Or leaving Jaffen? I was afraid to find out, but I made myself ask if she was sorry I'd shown up, and she assured me that was not the case. But still, I wondered.

She came to see me that evening, hesitant and uncertain. I gave her a dish of coffee ice cream and took one of chocolate for myself, hoping it would feel more casual than a cup of her favorite poison. Coffee was for business meetings, or at best, after dinner. This was a casual get-together between close friends.

We ate in silence. When she stood to leave she hesitated, her back to me. "What is it, Kathryn?" I asked her.

She lifted a hand and let it drop. "I just wish…"

"You wish what?" I prompted.

Her answer was slow in coming. "I wish…I wish it had been you. I…have never wanted you more, nor felt so undeserving of you than I do right now."

There is no way I can describe the effect her confession had on me. A jolt of lightning to the soul. An awakening of hunger buried deep and long. As she moved toward the door, there was no possible way I could let her go like that. If I did so, it would say that I agreed with that crap, that she wasn't worthy of me. I grabbed her arm, swinging her around. Then, cupping her face with my other hand, I kissed her.

I didn't dare pull her against my body, or I'd never let her go that night, and neither of us was ready for that. So I kept my hands still and just kissed her. I know I shocked her, but she didn't pull away. In fact, her hands came to my waist and tugged me a little closer.

It wasn't a long kiss, but no one, ever, has made me feel like that. No one.

Neither of us moved when we finally stopped. She leaned her head into my hand and whispered. "I don't deserve you."

"So now you understand how I felt after Riley."

"That was different. You had been injured and had just been half assimilated."

"And you were suffering from radiation poisoning and mind control of a different nature. You have more reasons than I did."

She laughed slightly. "We're arguing about who was the least idiotic."

I smiled at her. "Yeah. We're good at that. Let me walk you to your quarters."

Her fingers brushed my lips leaving a tingle. "It's okay. I won't get lost."

Her words seemed to say a lot more than the obvious. "You're sure about that?"

She leaned in and kissed my cheek. "Yes, I'm sure. But you can watch from your door, if you would like."

I would. And I did.

In all the years I'd known Chakotay, I had never been afraid of him. Not even when he was under the possession of Teero and had Tuvok point a phaser at my head. I'd known that wasn't really Chakotay. And I'd known how much he would beat himself up for his actions during that 'mutiny,' in spite of the fact that he hadn't been in control at the time.

But I was very afraid this time. Not for myself. I knew Chakotay would never hurt me, no matter how angry he got with me. He'd had plenty of opportunity over the years, and with some of the things I'd done, if I'd been him, I'd have been very, very tempted to give me a punch in the snoot. And he'd never lifted a hand against me, hardly ever raised his voice to me.

I was terrified for Seven of Nine's sake, because when I told him about the holographic representation of him that she had designed, the rage that filled his eyes was a formidable thing. If I'd been her seeing that, I'd have jumped for the nearest airlock.

He headed for the door with an angry snap to his long stride. Years before, Chakotay had saved me from myself, from doing something I would never have been able to forgive myself for had I completed what I started. He prevented me from causing a man's death. May as well be blunt; he prevented me from cold bloodedly murdering Noah Lessing. And I knew I had to do the same.

I tore after him and grabbed his arm. He's so strong, I had to pull at him with both hands to slow him down, calling his name all the while to try to break through the wall of outrage surrounding him. He didn't so much as turn as just shift his shoulders and I went flying backwards, landing heavily on my backside. It was one of the very few times I wish I'd listened to the doctor and eaten more.

Chakotay was on his knees beside me in a second, his expression mortified and full of contrition. "I'm sorry. Oh spirits, Kathryn are you all right? Are you hurt?"

I grimaced. Going to have bruises from this one, for sure. "Just my pride and my tush. I'm sure they'll both recover. Although your punishment will be to watch me hobble around for the next couple of days because there's no way I'm going to go to the doctor with this one."

He looked at me with such chagrin. "And I guess you'd better not see Tom Paris either."

"Definitely not!" Chakotay looked like such a beaten puppy. "Lighten up on yourself," I cajoled him. "Nothing happened, okay?"

His face was a strange combination of sorrow and anger. "But it would have, if you hadn't stopped me. I don't know what I would have done to her, but it could have been ugly."

I patted his face. "Well, it may help to know that she's had her holodeck privileges permanently suspended, except with direct authorization. Plus, you can expect a personal apology from her sometime tomorrow. And further, for the next month, her activity will be confined to astrometrics and her alcove. I've told her to review every single regulation on holodeck usage and hologram creation, and to be prepared to quote and explain every single one to me in one week's time."

"Isn't that like punishing yourself? Every single regulation? That's bound to be a lot."

I leaned in and shocked him by kissing him lightly on the mouth. I'd always found the shape of his lips fascinating. "Don't worry. I plan on having you share that session with me too. After all, shouldn't you be assured that she really has learned her lesson, hmm?"

It didn't take him long to recover. "Kathryn Janeway, you are such a…"

"Lovely person? Good friend?"

He sighed and lay on his side, propping himself on his elbow. "Yes, you are both those things. As well as a lot more, including something of a brat." He tapped me on the nose.

I lay back on the floor, and he rolled onto his back beside me so that we both stared up at the ceiling. Chakotay continued. "It's been a long time since I've hurt a female, but if you hadn't stopped me…"

"You wouldn't have done anything except yell at her," I reassured him, although a few minutes before, I'd wondered otherwise. "After all, you'd have to wait for the turbolift, and then get to the cargo bay and wake her from her regeneration cycle. In that amount of time, you'd have cooled down a bit." I studied the ceiling tiles as though the answers to life lay up there. "So, you've hurt females before?"

Everything went so still, it was possible to clearly hear the thrum of the engines. It took a moment for him to respond. "When someone is trying to kill you, gender is irrelevant."

There was a pause, then he gave a short, humorless laugh as he recognized his accidental choice of a favorite Borg word. I reached for his hand and we continued to lie on the floor, silently contemplating.

It wasn't the first time we'd lost a friend and a colleague. It wasn't the first time she'd cried or that I had. But it was the first time that we held each other and wept together. We mourned Joe Carey as we sat in his quarters, admiring the 'Voyager in a bottle' that had been so nearly completed. We went to the holodeck together and used the punching bags to pound out our hurt, our anger and our frustration at the senseless murder of a good man and a good friend. And we did it together.

Neither of us wanted to be alone that night, so aware were we of the fleeting nature of life, especially in the Delta Quadrant. So for the first time, we slept together on my couch, wrapped in a blanket. We woke together and had breakfast together. And then we went and tried to contact Starfleet to let Mrs. Carey know that her husband was dead.

It couldn't be true. Could it? I couldn't believe it. Talking to my older self was bad enough, but what she told me had to be impossible. The admiral had to be from an alternate universe. Or else she was out and out lying. Or maybe it was just that she was senile, or perhaps crazy. She was certainly one of the bitterest old women I'd ever encountered. And she wasn't even all that old. Or, just maybe she was telling the truth and something terribly wrong had happened somehow, and Chakotay actually wound up marrying Seven.

It couldn't be true. Could it? Not after the way we'd kissed. Not after comforting each other - could it? Could it? He had declined to have lunch with me and cancelled a dinner as well. Things hadn't been quite the same between us after he and Seven got back from that primitive planet. I'd been scared to death then that my luck had run out and that I had lost him on that planet. Him and his damned record of shuttle crashes!

Maybe it wasn't the admiral who was crazy, but me. I guess it just showed how little I really trust myself, when there I was, literally not trusting 'myself.' Talk about being beside yourself. Me, in the captain's quarters; me, in the guest quarters. Gods, it gave me a headache.

How the heck did she figure I could justify changing the lives of who knows how many hundreds, perhaps thousands of people just because I lost more crew? No, I didn't want to lose more people. No, I didn't want Tuvok to go mad. And no, I damned well didn't want to lose Chakotay to Seven, but none of that justified changing history!

But to strike a devastating blow to the Borg and protect the Alpha Quadrant from a potential invasion, now that was something I could sink my teeth into.

It just couldn't be true. Could it? Yet after it was all done and the admiral had sacrificed herself, after we had collapsed the transwarp conduit and burst through the Borg sphere, I turned and saw Chakotay standing beside Seven. I wondered then, for the first time, if maybe it was. I died a little in that moment.

I knew the captain wasn't overly fond of surprises, and I'd warned Seven this could backfire on us, but she had insisted on keeping it a secret. When I saw Kathryn's shuttered look, and she addressed me as Mr. Chakotay, directing me to take the conn when Tom went to Sickbay to meet his new daughter, well, I was pretty sure we'd been discovered. And there was going to be hell to pay when Kathryn heard how we'd been sneaking around behind her back.

I knew she had to know something, because she should have been ecstatic at arriving in the Alpha Quadrant. Her quest of seven long years was over. She had done it, succeeding against impossible odds. Yet her face was a mask when she handed the bridge over to me and retreated to her ready room with no explanation. I only hoped that between the thrill of beating the Borg, arriving home, and the appearance of Miral Torres Paris, that the rest of the bridge crew was too excited to notice the unnatural quiet of their commanding officer.

I had to see her, had to explain. After five minutes, I turned the bridge over to Tuvok. The Vulcan's slightly raised eyebrow told me he had indeed noticed the problem with the captain. I should have known he would.

I rang the chime at her door and entered at her summons. At least she wasn't shutting me out totally. Between spending most of my spare time with Seven, consulting with the doctor, and the extra tasks resulting from Admiral Janeway's descending on us from the future, I hadn't had a minute to talk with Kathryn. I'd had to cancel a couple of meals with her and I could tell at the time from her expression that she'd been disappointed, and there'd been something else in her face as well.

When she looked up at me from her console, I saw it again. Something quickly masked. It took a second for me to recognize what it was, because it was something I'd never seen on the face of Kathryn Janeway before.

It was fear.

What could Kathryn possibly be afraid of? We'd basically been guaranteed that the Maquis were free, the Equinox people could expect a hearing, but there were already rumblings of clearing them of any charges, so what could it be? Had the admiral told her that something awful was going to happen to her family, either the Janeway family or the Voyager one?

"Kathryn, what's wrong? You've done it. You got everyone home."

Those eyes. Oh, spirits, those eyes. She had to know about the time I'd been spending with Seven. Damn. Seven and her stupid ideas of keeping it secret. Kathryn still hadn't said anything.

"Kathryn, come on, talk to…"

"Tell me what's going on with Seven."

Damn. She did know. Or maybe she didn't. The fear in those eyes. Eyes that had stared down everything from the Kazon to the Borg Queen and back again, without even a twitch.

I sat in the chair opposite her desk. "She wanted to surprise you, Kathryn. I told her it was a bad idea, but she insisted."

"Wanted to surprise me with what?" Such a dull sounding voice.

"Her fail-safe device was supposed to come out this morning, but we were all a little busy, so she and the doctor will reschedule for whenever they can. Whenever Starfleet is through with us all."

"Her fail-safe device," she repeated.

"Yes. The doctor found a way to do it in only one operation, and Seven wanted to surprise you with it. She's been counseling with the doctor and me to prepare herself for the impact of all those emotions when they hit. Seven said she wanted to walk into your ready room with a big smile on her face and watch your reaction."

Slowly, slowly, I watched the change in her eyes until they were once again my Kathryn's eyes. Oh, Kathryn, my beautiful, beloved Kathryn. I wondered what the admiral had said to her and determined to put it to rest once and for all. I walked around the desk to crouch beside her, taking her hands.

"Kathryn, you're my heart. Did you really think there could ever be anyone else for me? After loving you for so long, did you imagine I would, or even could, give up now?"

The sheen of tears in her eyes told me of the stress she'd been under, and I wrapped my arms around her. With her face buried in my shoulder, I could feel her shaky breath against my neck.

"The admiral said that you and Seven…well, never mind. I guess it doesn't really matter any more." I could feel her pulling herself back from the edge of whatever cliff she'd been clinging to. She pushed herself back into her chair.

Our faces were on the same level. I slid my fingers into her hair. "So, what do we do now?" I asked.

Her smile was like the sunrise to me. "Now, my love, we go home."

I laid my head in her lap and wrapped my arms around her waist. I could feel her fingers stroke my hair. For the first time, Kathryn Janeway had called me her love.

I didn't bother to tell her I already was home.

Some people say that there's no such thing as love at first sight. I happen to know that there is because I fell in love with Gretchen Janeway the first time I met her.

After a prolonged and teary greeting with her daughter, she chided, "Katie, what in the world did you do to your beautiful hair?"

Kathryn gave her a watery grin. "It's actually longer than it was when I first cut it. Now that we're back, I've been thinking about growing it again."

"Think no more; just do it," was the prompt response.

Then that slightly grayer, rounder version of Kathryn turned to me. Taking my face in her hands, she fastened piercing blue eyes on me. "And you, my son, I know full well what it means to be a first officer, and even more, I know my Katie. She wouldn't have made your job easy." Gretchen kissed me on both cheeks. "Thank you for protecting her and bringing her home to me. If you never do another thing in your life, I will love you forever for that."

Then she wrapped her arms around me in a surprisingly fierce grip, and I closed my eyes as I hugged her back. After so many years, I finally felt some of the pain of the death of my own mother melt away in the arms of that tiny, big-hearted woman.

It surprised me that Phoebe's husband and Chakotay got along so well. A person would swear they were long lost buddies the way they carried on most of the evening. When they all transported home, Chakotay hugged every one of them, even the twins and baby Katie. Just before we headed upstairs, he hugged me too, and whispered in my ear, "Thank you."

"What for?"

He smiled that beautiful smile of his. "Kathryn, in one day, you've given me a mother, a brother, another sister, and two more nieces and a nephew."

The next afternoon, Mom transported off to Phoebe's to help watch the brood while she and John prepared for our dinner. Chakotay and I didn't have to transport over for a few hours, so I gave him a proper tour of the property and the house, introducing him to my various childhood haunts.

When we reached the small room under the sloping roof, I didn't even have to say anything for him to know it had been mine. Some of my science awards were still on the walls and my traditionalist parents had filled the bookshelves with children's classics like Nancy Drew mysteries, Robinson Crusoe, and Kidnapped. Chakotay carefully looked at a yellowed birthday card from my sister, still pinned to the bulletin board.

He looked up. "From 'Phoeble-Weeble'?"

"There was a nursery rhyme that Phoebe loved when she was little about a worm called Feeble-Weeble. She was too young to know it was spelled differently, and I don't think she would have cared anyway. Even when I was at the Academy, I would get letters signed Phoeble-Weeble."

Nodding, he moved around the room, looking at this, touching that, as though trying to get to know the person I had been. Strange. We had just dealt with my older self, and here in this room of innocence, was another me, the essence of which was as strongly present as if little Kathryn stood at the door in her tennis whites, impatiently swinging a racket. And there I stood, somewhere in the middle between that bitter woman and the eager child.

My breath caught in my throat when Chakotay knelt on the small bed and leaned on the windowsill to look out at the yard and the sky. How many times had I done that, especially at night when I was supposed to be sleeping? It had been with great difficulty that my mother had persuaded me to have curtains on that window.

Still gazing out the window, he spoke. "So, this is where you first gained your love of the stars."

"Yes." Of course he would understand. Of course.

He shifted until he sat at the side of the bed and held his hand out to me. My heart began to pound. "Here?"

Eyes, so tender. "Yes, here. Where it all began for you."

"The bed's awfully small." What a stupid thing to say.

Catching my hand, he drew me to sit beside him. That smile, gently teasing. "We won't need much space."

It was right; it was fitting. We had seen the end, at least, a possible end, one that now would never be, and here we were, back at the beginning. I slowly reached for the buttons on his shirt.

I could see the earnest child in Kathryn's concentrated expression as she undressed me. She carefully removed my shoes and socks, then made me stand before her to undo my trousers. The light brush of cool fingers against my skin was like flames licking me. Each piece of clothing was carefully, studiously, set aside.

When I was naked, I sat beside her again on that childhood bed, where all her dreams of adventure had begun so long ago. Then I undressed her as well.

We sat silently and looked at each other for a long time, nothing between us any more, nothing separating us. Then I reached for her and drew her down with me.

I never really thought of his skin as dark, or mine as pale, until I saw his hands moving on my body.

I don't recall ever seeing her eyes look so blue as when she looked up at me, tugging me to her.

I never believed in the soul before. I do now, because as his hands explored every part of my body, he touched much more than just skin.

In giving me her love and receiving mine, she set me free from chains I never knew I had.

To say that it was amazing is inadequate.

To describe her as merely beautiful is to do her an injustice.

To say he's the only one to ever make me feel this way doesn't come close to reality.

To describe her as my soul mate is woefully short of the full truth.

There aren't enough words.

There are no words.

I could no longer tell where I ended and he began.

One. We truly became one, she and I. Bodies and souls, merged together.

We both cried.

I wiped her tears away, only to have my own splash on her face.

Never to be parted again. Ever. I swear it.

Never to be separated, in this life or the next. This I vow.

Forever my love.

My forever love.

The End

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© Brianna Thomas, August 2002 Please email me to post/distribute elsewhere.

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