A CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE

I was happy for him. Really, I was.

Just because a wave of nausea swept over me when Admiral Janeway told me about Seven dying in the arms of her husband, Chakotay, it didn't mean anything. It was just the shock of hearing about Seven's death, that's all.

Just because my stomach dropped at the sight of Chakotay standing beside Seven on the upper level of the bridge after we burst through the Borg sphere, it didn't mean anything. Just because I ordered him to take the conn when Tom went to see B'Elanna and his new baby in sickbay, instead calling for the alternate pilot who stood ready and waiting, it didn't mean anything.

Of course not.

I was happy for her. Really, I was.

After all, my protégéé, had found happiness with one of the most wonderful men in the universe. Someone kind, compassionate, handsome, strong and brave. How could I not be happy for her?

Just because I've woken up with tears on my face every morning for the last month since we arrived back, it doesn't mean anything. I'm just tired, that's all. Just because the most joy I've felt since we got home was battling the bureaucracy for the Equinox Five with Chakotay by my side, well, that was just relief at the issue being settled. And the little bounce of joy I felt last week when he told me he and Seven hadn't seen each other since Voyager, other than passing in the hallway a couple of times, was simply the fresh cup of coffee my aide put in front of me at that moment. That's all.

Just because I have to blink to clear my eyes tonight when the two of them arrive together at the reception, it doesn't mean anything. Of course not. After all, I'm happy for them.

Really.

I am.

*****

The first person I see when Seven and I arrive at tonight's reception is Kathryn. She's talking to Marla Gilmore, and only glances up briefly. I don't know what to make of the expression on her face. In fact, I haven't known what to make of a lot of things since being back on Earth.

I'm very relieved to be home at last, relieved that the Maquis are not being charged, particularly for Tom and B'E's sakes, now that they have little Miral. Although, I can't help wondering if someone with the initials K.J. tipped off the press, considering the groundswell of public support that rose from some articles that suggested the brass were stalling on the issue. Also, I'm hugely relieved that Kathryn and I were able to get some very valid points through the thick sculls of the almighty admirals regarding the former Equinox crew. But still, the past month has been hard. Dredging up everything from the last seven years. I just have to look at Kathryn to know how tough this month has been on her.

She looks so tired, and she's lost weight since we got home. There's something else, something I can't put my finger on. She seems almost melancholy. Maybe it's just that the quest which consumed her for seven years has ended. I hope she's eating and sleeping properly. I should try to talk with the Doctor tonight to see if we can get her in for a check up. Even though I'm not officially her first officer any more, I'm still her friend. At least, I think I am. I hope I am. To be without Kathryn in my life is something I don't even want to think about, and her absence would leave a hole that no one could ever fill. It's been hard enough this past month not seeing her every day as I've been accustomed to.

Tom Paris is surveying the room and it's odd to realize that he regularly used to do that at our socials on Voyager as well. Just observing - checking things out. Then I nearly laugh when I see that his father, Admiral Paris, is doing exactly the same thing. The age-old question: genetics or environment? My attention returns to the junior Paris where he and Pablo Baytart stand talking. I must remember to speak to Pablo tonight and see how he's settling in.

Naomi finishes introducing her father to me and moves on to Admiral Paris. She'd been scared about the whole idea of arriving home to an entire set of relatives she'd never met, yet she's taken to life here like a duck to water. How like a child to adapt so quickly.

Adapt. Now there's a typical Borg word. I've hardly had any chance at all to speak to Seven in the last four weeks, to see how she's "adapting" to being on Earth. Starfleet wanted to keep us all pretty much separate while debriefings were going on, which is understandable, so Seven and I have only spoken a couple of times as we passed each other on our way to meetings. And we managed to have lunch once last week after Kathryn and I finished the hearings for the Equinox crew. Not much time to nurture a budding romance.

Seven looks very nice tonight in her simple navy pantsuit. I can see her standing with Tuvok, T'Pel, and the Vulcan Ambassador. She's been there since we arrived, and I don't think she's even spoken to Naomi or Icheb. I thought she was further along in her social development than this. Some folks are going to be hurt by her behavior and not understand. For that matter, I'm not sure that I do either.

I'm not sure what I think or what I feel about anything any more. I've been feeling adrift, ungrounded since arriving home. In fact, the most content I felt the past month, was sitting beside Kathryn, fighting for our crewmembers together. It felt like old times, the two of us against a common "enemy", although I'm sure the brass wouldn't appreciate being compared to the multitude of hostile aliens we encountered in the Delta Quadrant. During the hearings, we even sat in our usual spots, me to her left. We could still finish one another's sentences, and were constantly on the same wavelength, just like always. That connection was still there.

It's great to see everyone looking so relaxed tonight. Harry and Jenny join me, and we talk for a while. With the commendations, promotions and awards to come later in the evening, it's an open secret that Harry Kim won't be an ensign by the time he leaves tonight. Of course his folks are here, and they're so excited, they resemble kids on a sugar high. The only person who comes close to that level of enthusiasm is Gretchen Janeway, and just like Tom and Admiral Paris, it's funny to see the many similarities in both appearance and mannerisms shared by Kathryn and her mother. Mrs. Janeway talks with her hands, and just finished patting Reg Barclay on his shoulder.

Jenny has a look in her eye that tells me her relationship with Harry is about to change. I think they're a good couple. And speaking of couples, I get the idea that tonight's the night for Mike and Megan. He was talking to Meggie's dad earlier, and right now he's introducing his grandmother to Kathryn. What a dynamo that dear little lady is! She held that family together with her loving iron grip through some horrible times. Nobody, but nobody, messes with Marguerita Ayala. I've felt the whip of her scathing tongue at times myself.

We've known each other for so long that I can read Mike like a book. He has a slightly glazed look on his face, and Megan is standing a small distance away, looking distinctly nervous. I catch Mike's eye and give him a wink. He's brought such a steadying influence to Meggie, and her lighthearted joy brought deep healing to my friend's wounded soul after his wife remarried before anyone on Earth knew that we were all still alive.

My conversation with Harry and Jenny concludes and they leave. I turn, and come face to face with Kathryn.

It's as though we are completely alone in the room. All the conversations around me fade from my hearing, and I don't see anything except Kathryn's face looking up at me, reflecting the same shock I'm feeling. I can't think; I can't move. There isn't enough air to breathe. Every pretence is swept away, every obstacle that previously stood between us has completely crumbled to dust. And I suddenly know that all the old feelings I had for her are not gone as I thought they were. Not at all. But what really shocks me is the sight of open longing on her face. Desire, and - dare I say it? - love. For me.

No more the captain's face masking her feelings. Of its own volition, my hand starts to move to touch that beautiful open face, and somehow the movement awakens me from whatever spell I've been under. Suddenly, all the sounds rush in as reality penetrates once more. I'm standing in the middle of a ballroom, surrounded by people. On top of that, at this point, I have no right to touch Kathryn like this, not with whatever it is that I have with Seven.

Seven. I know with absolute certainty that it's over, not that there was a whole lot there to begin with. Just before the crew departed the ship, I kissed Seven when we had a moment alone, so that makes four dates, three kisses, two conversations, and one lunch. And a partridge in a pear tree. How had I ever thought I could move on from Kathryn?

I hear Kathryn take a deep breath as though she's awakening from sleep, and we both straighten up, pivot on our heels and head in opposite directions. The whole encounter lasted only seconds, but the course of my life just completely changed.

I need to talk to Seven.

There's a calm surrender to the rush of day
When the heat of a rolling wind can be turned away
An enchanted moment, and it sees me through
It's enough for this restless warrior just to be with you.

*****

How is it possible to be happy and sad at the same time? Yet it is. Despite the pain that lingers like a tumor of the soul, I am so glad to be here tonight with all my crew and their families. Who couldn't be happy in this gathering? Little Naomi darts here and there, dragging her father around to introduce him to everyone. B'Elanna's looking very svelte, although not too thrilled with the new uniform. Over there is my mother. I have to keep checking now and then to make myself believe this is real. I wish Phoebe could be here tonight, but she's too close to delivery in her pregnancy to make the trip.

Mike Ayala introduces me to his grandmother - his abuela. She comes across as very straight-laced, very proper, but somehow I just know that underneath, she's got a wicked sense of humor. Sure enough, just when Mike is slightly distracted, out it pops in her slight Spanish accent. I have a feeling this lady and I could become good friends.

"Tell me, Captain Janeway, my Miguel, he was a good boy?"

"Miguel" is practically squirming and I have to call upon all my command training not to laugh. With as much of a straight face as I can manage, I reply, "Yes, ma'am. The lieutenant was a tremendous addition to our crew out there. We were fortunate to have him with us."

I can tell that Mike is surprised by what I say, but it's absolutely true. Every single member of this crew was invaluable to the success of getting home. I'm being lauded as the hero, but I know better than anyone how it wasn't only me; it was all of us working as a team, as a family.

In a minute or so, our conversation ends, and as Mike leads his grandmother away, I give him a wink. He looks shocked, and it pleases me greatly to know that I can still surprise these people. I turn around and there, directly in my path, is Chakotay. Mesmerized. That's how I feel, coming so unexpectedly face to face with him. Why this time is so different from the multitude of times it happened while onboard Voyager, I don't know, but it is. Radically and totally different. No more excuses, no more protocol, no ship, no crew, no quest to be achieved. No more separation. Everything laid bare. I know he can see it all on my face, because I can see it all on his.

When he moves to touch me, I almost cry out with the longing, the need for it. Make me real, Chakotay, I want to say. Make Kathryn come alive after the long entombing she's endured. But I say nothing, and neither does he. I suddenly become aware that we are standing in the middle of over five hundred people and wonder if anyone has noticed us. I'm really not sure that I care, but Chakotay and I both turn as one, and walk away from each other.

I know my face is burning and I have to get out of here. I saw B'Elanna head to the women's restroom a while ago, but I don't want to go there. The last thing I need right now is to get cornered by someone wanting to talk, so I head to the gardens.

My knees are shaking, so I don't go very far. Everything is different. Everything has changed. My brain is on overload with the thoughts and feelings surging through it, charging here and there like unchanneled electrical impulses. Through it all, only one cohesive thought emerges.

He still cares for me. Joy overtakes me, even headier than the strong night fragrance of the nearby flowers. A few slow, deep breaths and I think I'm ready to return to the ballroom. Head down, I walk - thinking about nothing, about everything - and before I know it, I've almost stumbled upon a private conversation. I recognize the voices immediately. I should leave, but I don't.

"But I need to tell you, I have made a decision about my future that will render that impossible."

I have no time to wonder what Seven is talking about before Chakotay replies.

"What have you decided?"

"As soon as Starfleet will allow me to leave, I will be moving to Vulcan. I have accepted a position with the Vulcan Science Academy. I believe that my emotional…composition will be best accommodated in that environment."

"I thought you were looking forward to exploring your humanity once you got home?"

Seven speaks haltingly, in the manner I know that indicates she is unsure of herself.

"I was, but I find the curiosity and animosity presented to me on Earth to be very…" She seems to search for the right word. "…disconcerting. Here, at best I am an oddity and at worst, I am an object of fear and loathing, whereas on Vulcan I shall be accepted for what I can contribute to their society."

"I'm so sorry, Seven."

Guilt and sorrow stab through me. I wish I'd had more time that I could have spent helping her adjust to being on Earth. I wish people could realize that for all the evil she was a party to, it was not by choice. She too was a victim of the Borg. I feel small and petty for having been glad that Seven and Chakotay'd had no opportunity to spend time together since we arrived home, because I know he would have helped her to adjust. She is the closest thing I have to a daughter, and it hurts me to know that she has suffered alone this past month.

"Weren't you going to have the Doctor remove your failsafe device once things got settled?" he asks.

Failsafe device? Now that's something I didn't know about. Nice to know that the Doctor can occasionally abide by doctor/patient confidentiality as he's supposed to.

"I have reconsidered that. With the arrival of Admiral Janeway on Voyager, there was not time for the operation, and I am finding handling emotions very…stressful. The contract with the Science Academy is for two years, and I will reassess things at that time. I am…sorry if this disappoints you."

There is a pause, but I cannot see what is happening around the rosebush. Again, it occurs to me I should leave, but I have so much guilt over the many things I've done wrong, what's one more drop of it?

"It's all right, Seven. I understand. You must do what is best for you."

Somehow, I just know from Chakotay's tone, that although he wasn't expecting the conversation to go like this, he's not unhappy about it.

"I want you to know, Chakotay, how much I…appreciate your kindness and your support. Everyone on Voyager has helped me over the years, but my relationships with the Doctor, Captain Janeway and most of all, with you mean more to me than I know how to say. I…"

It sounds like she's on the edge of tears. That's something I've never seen from her, although the Doctor once told me she cried when the drone, One, died, and also when Icheb donated his cortical node to save her life.

"Seven, real friendships last forever and aren't dimmed by time or distance. After what we went through in the Delta Quadrant, all of us on Voyager have become more than friends - we're family. And it will always be so. May as well face it; you're stuck with us."

I smile. How like Chakotay. Hearing the amazing sound of Seven laughing, somehow I know she's going to be all right.

"You are a good man, Chakotay. You deserve much happiness, and I believe that you will find it."

The sound of her retreating footsteps reaches me, and after a moment, I step around the rosebush. What would old Boothby say if he could see me sneaking around in here like this?

Chakotay's face is tilted back to the sky, eyes closed. He turns as though to head back inside, and I can finally see his face. That beautiful face that I adore. For the first time, I don't have to tamp down the feelings that arise at the sight of his wonderful smile. In the same manner as happened so often in our journey together, somehow he knows I'm here, and he looks directly at me and changes direction.

He's standing right in front of me - my Chakotay. So tall, shoulders so wide that he blocks out the moonlight. That smile still lights his face and I can't help smiling back. His hand starts to rise again, and this time it doesn't stop. The warmth of his hand against my cheek feels like I've fallen into heaven, and I have to close my eyes.

"My Kathryn."

The whispered echo of my thought opens my eyes, and the love that pours through his expression is almost overwhelming. Without another word, he takes my hand and leads me away from the building.

And can you feel the love tonight?
It is where we are
It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer
That we got this far

*****

Interesting. Once again a woman has dumped me, and I couldn't be happier. I had dreaded hurting Seven, but I knew it had to be done. I'm so sorry she's had a hard time since arriving on Earth, sorry that I couldn't be there for her. And while I regret she doesn't have the courage to tough it out here, I know she'll feel more at home on Vulcan.

I'm aware of Kathryn the moment that she steps around the rosebush. Yes, that connection between us is alive and well. I don't know how to express the joy that wells up within me at the sight of her. As I move toward her, I feel as though every moment in my life has lined up to bring me to this point, and that I am walking forward into my future. Words fail me as at last, I touch her face, and all I can whisper is, "My Kathryn."

As we walk, we can't seem to stop looking at one another, and we smile at wonder of it, and the silliness of it. We're like a couple of goggle-eyed teenagers, yet we're professionals in our forties. Love is the great leveler of us all.

We don't talk. There are a few other couples in the garden that we can see in the distance, Tom and B'Elanna for one. In the last month, B'E hasn't said anything directly to me - not that there's been much opportunity - but it didn't take a telepath to sense her displeasure, and I knew it was over Seven. I hope she'll like this development better, although I can't say that her approval or disapproval will make a bit of difference to me.

I love Kathryn. I love her. I love her. And I'm going to tell her. She grins at me as I lead her off the main path, taking one of the side trails known to every cadet in the Academy as trysting spots. I want to see her face clearly, that face that can be so expressive at times, like now, so I choose a bench under the moonlight.

Before I can even say a word, Kathryn leans toward me and kisses me. It's a tiny kiss, but I feel like my head just exploded, and I haul her into my arms and seal my mouth to hers. For so long, so incredibly long, I had hungered for this, dreamed of this, and it's even more than I imagined. I've never heard of anyone climaxing from just a kiss, but the long denial has empowered the moment to the point that I almost think I could. The taste of her, the texture of her lips, her tongue as it pushes into my mouth, the feel of her body in my arms, the press of her breasts against my chest.

It's the salty taste of her tears that makes me draw back. That whiskey voice is huskier than ever.

"I thought I'd lost you."

The pain in her voice nearly breaks my heart. "I'm so sorry, Kathryn. I've been such a fool."

"No, no. It's not your fault; it was all my doing. Oh, gods, Chakotay, so much wasted time."

I cannot let her look back, not now. "Hush, love, you did what you had to do. None of it matters any more. We made it, Kathryn; we got everyone home safely and now we can be together."

"And I will never allow anything to separate us, ever - I swear it."

"Kathryn…" Her words thrill me, yet I cannot help but feel cautious. No one knows the future. As we well know, things can change in the blink of an eye.

"I love you, Chakotay."

To hear her say this, what I've wanted to hear all these years, completely undoes me and I cannot prevent my tears. "Spirits Kathryn, I love you so, love you so."

I can hardly talk, the emotions are so overpowering. I knew she cared for me, at least in the beginning, and then the feelings evolved into the most wonderful friendship ever. Yet, what she tells me now reveals how hard she had to work to maintain that façade of mere friendship. She pours out her soul to me, bares herself emotionally and I cannot - do not want to - withhold anything from her any more. No more hiding. She has my heart, she has my soul, and now she can have my declaration too. We both have apologies and forgiveness to exchange, and words gush out of each of us like an uncapped geyser. All the hurt, all the anguish, washed away in our tears and our kisses. After the years of longing and despair, to hear her speak to me this way, telling me she cannot live without me, is almost beyond my ability to take in. We have both sacrificed so much over the last seven years, and I know I would die for this woman.

Eventually a gong sounds in the distance, and Kathryn declares, "We must go back now, Chakotay. That's the signal it's almost time for the commendations and awards."

We stand, but no more than two steps later, joy explodes in my heart, and I pull her off her feet into my arms, whirling her around in a circle until we are both dizzy and breathless and laughing like children. I want to shout my joy to the skies above, and I don't care who hears. "I love you, Kathryn. Spirits, what a relief! I can finally tell you!"

She pulls my head down for another kiss, and if I live as long as a Vulcan, I don't think I will ever, ever get tired of that. Then she breaks away and begins dragging me by the arm. "Come on, we're going to be late."

Nothing can stop my joy, and I tease her. "What are you worried about, Kathryn? They can't very well start without you."

It's enough for this restless warrior
Just to be with you

*****

I can't help grinning at Chakotay, "leading me down the garden path," one of the side paths we all knew about during our Academy days. Me - I always had my nose buried too deeply in my studies to be bothered with such relationships, and it somehow strikes me as incredibly funny that I'm going to a well-known romantic spot for the first time now, as a captain, a woman in her forties.

I'm glad he chooses a bench in the full moonlight. For so many years I've been hiding, and I'm so very, very tired of it. Tired of denying my feelings, burying them. My chance almost slipped away because of it, and I simply can't wait another moment. Having studied those beautiful lips of his for seven long years, I have to taste them now, this second.

It shocks him, I know, when I kiss him before he can even say anything, but he recovers very quickly. And oh, the wonder of it, the joy of it! Being in his arms at last, and I know now that I'm finally, truly home. The taste of his mouth is better than any drug. All the emotions I had squashed for so long come pouring through, equal measures of delight and sorrow, and before I know it, I'm crying. And when I tell him I love him, so is he.

It is unbelievable; he loves me. After all the hurt I caused him, yet he still loves me. The separation of the last month has convinced me that I cannot live without him, and I tell him so. He tells me he would die for me, and it breaks something deep inside, but that's not what I want; I want him to live forever by my side. Every day, every night. I know that this evening he's going to be promoted, and I have no idea how that's going to work out for us, but I will not let anything, ever again separate us.

After the gong sounds to announce that the ceremony will begin shortly, Chakotay and I start to head back. Suddenly, he sweeps me off my feet and spins us both around in circles until we're giggling like a couple of kids. Again, he declares that he loves me, practically shouts it, and I simply have to kiss him once more. He doesn't seem to mind. When I finally tell him we have to go or we'll be late, he teases me that they can't very well start without me.

Once back in the ballroom, we both school our faces to the proper command expressions, but I'm positive that every pore of my body is screaming out the new connection between us. In fact, I see Owen Paris studying us rather closely, and I turn away quickly. Only to come under the laser eye of my mother. She looks from me to Chakotay, then back to me, and a slow half grin begins to form on her face. Saucy woman, she gives me a wink before returning to her conversation with Icheb.

"So that's where that crooked grin of yours comes from," Chakotay whispers in my ear. "Nice blush, Captain. It would match the red of our old uniforms rather well."

Out of the side of my mouth, I mutter at him, "You are incorrigible."

Although he stares straight ahead, the low voice of his reply shivers through me. "You have no idea. Yet."

Mike Ayala and Megan Delaney dart through the doors, and Megan flies over to Jenny waving a beautiful looking ring about. For her sake, I hope none of the sticklers for uniform protocols catch sight of it. I suppose I'll be doing the wedding, and I really won't mind at all. They've been a couple long enough to weather some storms and I'm sure they'll do fine together. And I would bet my last Voyager ration that Harry and Jenny won't be too far behind. They've been good friends for a long time, in a way, much like Chakotay and me.

It's so gratifying to stand on that small platform with Chakotay at my side, looking over all these wonderful people. Our hardworking, dedicated crew, their steadfast, courageous families, Starfleet's admiralty, and even the press, who can be useful at times.

After an introduction, I ask everyone to stand to pay honor to those who didn't make it home with us. I don't have to read the list; every name has been branded in my memory, and always will be. I know the date and circumstance of every single loss, and although my head knows that my response isn't logical, yet my heart still condemns me for them. Chakotay is startled when I begin with the dead from his ship, the Liberty, right back at the beginning when we were pulled into the Delta Quadrant. Then it's those from the Equinox - that awful time, when I lost my mind, and almost lost my soul. And finally, all the lost from Voyager. I can see Diane Carey wiping tears from her face, and I'm so pleased she came tonight.

I feel such joy and satisfaction as I fasten each pin, each new pip, in place as Chakotay hands them to me. It's all I can do not to hug Harry, when finally, finally, this fine young man receives his just promotion to full lieutenant. And then I have the honor to see both my oldest friend, and my best friend made captains. I'm doing my best to rein in the emotions, but I know I haven't completely covered them all as I add to Chakotay's new row of pips. When Starfleet ratified all the field commissions I made, all the Maquis received pips in place of their old rank bars.

Chakotay calls the crew to attention, and orders them to face the reception hall. It is with the greatest of pride that I declare, "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, the crew of Voyager." The applause is thunderous, as well it should be. We are a team, a strong family, and it is because of this that we all stand here today. All the hostile aliens, the multitude of battles, the rationing, the daily challenges just to survive - we triumphed over them all. All of us, together as one. I know I will never work with a finer group of people, and I am so proud of every single one of them, from little Naomi, right up to our "senior citizen," Tuvok.

Admiral Paris's voice draws everyone back around again, when he says, "Ladies and gentlemen, there is one more promotion to be awarded this evening. Captain Janeway, front and center."

I am shocked, actually horrified. I had no idea at all that this was coming. Casting a quick glance at Chakotay, I can see my distress reflected on his face. There is no choice, so I put my best command face on, and obey my superior officer. Owen has noticed my lack of enthusiasm, and is a bit confused by it, but all I can think is, once again, I am above Chakotay in rank.

I hear the applause, and Owen and I pose for pictures, but it is meaningless to me. Inside I am screaming, 'Not now! Not when we are so close, so close.' Gradually, something of that mulish Janeway attitude arises in me, and I am even more determined to see the fulfillment of my statement to Chakotay in the garden. I will NOT allow ANYTHING to separate us any more, and certainly nothing so piddley as an advancement in rank. Not any more.

At last, I get to give Harry that hug, and for some reason, it moves me more than I can express. In some ways, Harry was a little like my son, or at least, my baby brother, and he's grown into an exceptional officer. He deserved this promotion years ago. "Lieutenant." It gives my such joy to be able to use that title for him. I pat his face, then touch the new pip on his collar. "You've deserved this for so long. Of all my regrets, it's one of the biggest that I couldn't promote people the way they should have been."

"We understood, Cap…Admiral."

I can't help grimacing at his use of my new title. I have the feeling he wants to say more to me, but his parents join us at that moment, and Mrs. Kim engulfs me in a huge hug. They are lovely people, obviously proud of their son, as they have every right to be. It's easy to see that Harry naturally comes by his innocent enthusiasm. The only other person in the room who comes close to their excitement is my own mother. I see that she is standing nearby, so I excuse myself to speak with her.

She says nothing at first, just looks me up and down in that assessing way of hers that is both comforting and annoying at the same time. Even after such a long separation, she still knows me better than anyone, except perhaps Chakotay. He's congratulating Mike and Megan, and when I look back at my mother, she's been watching me watch him.

"What are you going to do, Katie?" Trust my mother not to beat around the bush.

"It's really up to him, now." My mother makes a rude noise and I raise my eyebrow at her.

"Don't bother with 'the look,' Kathryn. It never worked for your father, and it won't work for you either. Just tell me this; have you finally told him how you feel?"

How does she know that I didn't before? For that matter, how does she know how I feel about Chakotay? There's no point in dancing around it, because she's the one person in the universe I still can't put anything past. I wonder if she and Señora Ayala became friends while Voyager was in the DQ; they should be, since they're a lot alike.

I sigh. "Yes, Mom, I've told him how I feel. But things could be complicated because of this promotion…"

"Stuff and nonsense! For goodness sakes, do not, I repeat, do not let this deter you. I know you, and I know you put your life and your happiness on hold for seven years. Even Owen Paris knows that there's more to life than Starfleet, and it's about time you got one."

"Got one what?"

"A life, Katie. It's about time you got a life." The indignant look on her face is priceless. "You two have no idea how much things have changed here while you've been gone, and believe me, Starfleet won't care a twig if you two want to be together. The war here showed people that they need to live to the fullest while they can. And even if the brass did fuss, well, tough tiddlywinks. Some of those tight asses really need to loosen up. There's a whole galaxy out there that's meant to be lived. I think what you went through for seven years in the Delta Quadrant equals at least twenty regular years of service."

Surprised doesn't fully describe what I feel. First, to discover that so many of the phrases that I use obviously come from my mother, and second, I had always believed she thought highly of Starfleet, considering Dad made it to admiral. "I didn't know you felt like this about Starfleet, Mom."

"You've always idealized Starfleet, Katie, even worse than your father. Hopefully, your stint in the backwaters of the galaxy has altered your perspective for the better. Now, quit trying to change the subject. What are you going to do about Chakotay?"

A pit bull terrier, that's what she is. And right now, she's got her teeth sunk in me. Another glance in Chakotay's direction, and I see he's talking only with Mike right now, the body language indicating that the conversation is nearly done. There's a look on his face that I can't read; in spite of all the years I've known him, I can't discern what he's thinking.

Mom wants to know what I'm going to do. Well, she should be pleased. Something drastic; something radical. Something outrageous and perhaps out of character for me. But then again, maybe not. "I'll be going up to my room shortly, and I'll give him half an hour. And if he hasn't come to me by then, I'm going hunting."

My mother, Gretchen Janeway, widow of Admiral Edward Janeway, claps her hands in childlike delight and pulls me into a bone-crushing hug. "That's my Katie-girl," she booms in my ear. "You go get your man. If you have to, drag him back by the…"

"Mom." I cut her off quickly, as I can see Chakotay hovering nearby.

"Hair, Katie. What did you think I was going to say?" She gives me a smirk and a wink, and sails out the door.

No wonder my father married her six weeks after they met. He didn't stand a chance. Now it's my turn. I look up into the face of my future. He's probably got some noble idea that as an ex-Maquis, he could damage or hinder my career if we get together now that I've been made an admiral. Well, if necessary, I'm going to take my mother's advice and drag him back by his…whatever. Mom always did know best.

There's a time for everyone if they only learn
That the twisting kaleidoscope moves us all in turn

*****

Kathryn has managed to surprise me again. Reciting the names of every single loss, starting with my own crew from the Liberty. I'm not the only crewmember blinking back tears.

What a rag-tag bunch we were. Maquis freedom fighters, five Starfleet renegades, a staunchly Starfleet crew, two Borg, a furry Talaxian, a tiny part-Katarian girl, and for too short a time, a lovely Ocampan pixie. Yet here we are. I can only hope that somehow, someway, those we left behind will know that we made it.

Kathryn and I had many conversations over the years about the impossibility of promoting everyone while we were on Voyager. We couldn't wind up with an entire crew of commanders. I know it was always one of her greatest disappointments considering how much she felt that their excellent service deserved more recognition than she was able to give. It was one of the reasons she kept such meticulous records of everything, since she wanted someone, sometime, to know that this was a crew that served faithfully with distinction. I know tonight means even more to her than to any of us.

Just the brush of her fingers against my neck as she affixes the fourth pip to my collar sends a shiver through me. Her face is glowing with joy, and no matter how I try, I cannot completely suppress the love I feel for her. I haven't even had a chance to think about whether I want to remain in Starfleet or not, but the recognition from them is certainly nice, and now that Kathryn and I are the same rank, we can take some time to sort out the logistics of our relationship.

And then the bottom drops out of my world and all my hopes for a future with Kathryn turn to dust when Admiral Paris presents her with a promotion to the admiralty. No one deserves it more, yet the brief flash of pain on her face mirrors mine. The joy and pride I feel for her war with my sorrow over what is likely the end of us before we even have a chance to begin.

Sure, they promoted me. But will anyone ever really forget that I turned my back on Starfleet to join what some still refer to as, 'that terrorist group'? Never mind that the Maquis were right about the Cardassians. I'm very much aware that not everyone in the organization is pleased at the leniency granted to the Maquis. A junior admiral consorting with a former terrorist - that'll really help advance her career. My heart feels weighted with lead, and I can hardly stand upright.

Later, Samantha Wildman waves to me from the exit, as her husband carries a sleeping Naomi. Which goes to show that even a captain's assistant can get tuckered out in a long evening of excitement when said assistant is only six years old. I'm glad that Sam and her husband have been able to work things out. However, once again my own future seems clouded with doubts and uncertainties.

I congratulate Mike and Megan, and I tell her how when we were in the Maquis, he nearly rotted our stomachs whenever it was his turn to cook. He's nearly as bad as Neelix when it comes to adding spices to food.

With a knowing grin, Megan tucks her hand into his elbow. "I've already discovered that, Comm…Captain. I think I'll be doing most of the cooking, just for self preservation."

Mike bears the ribbing with good grace, then kisses her hand. "Megan, sweetheart, give me a moment with my brother, Chakotay, would you?"

After she steps aside, Mike asks me to stand up with him at his wedding. He says that now that they are home, they are both eager to get on with the next part of their lives. "Besides," he adds with a look of chagrin, "Abuela is already agitating for a great-grandchild."

I can't help laughing. If Marguerita Ayala is on the warpath over something, there's be no place in the universe to hide. "It will be an honor to be your best man, Mike. Have you two set a date yet?"

"Not yet. We haven't had a chance to speak to the cap…that is, the admiral yet, and there's no one else we want to do the ceremony."

I follow his gaze to where Kathryn stands talking to her mother. When I look back to Mike, he's watching me, and I know he has seen something on my face. He knows me too well.

"Chakotay, don't let anything stand in your way any more. Life is too short, too precious to waste."

Am I that obvious, is it that Mike is so familiar with me, or is there something more? He's always been very intuitive, but can also clearheadedly assess a situation, and the combination of the two made him an exceptional security officer. Tuvok gave him a number of commendations for exemplary service, and that's saying a lot. Perhaps it's the ache in my soul that pushes me to confide in a way I've not done before because I was his commanding officer. "It's not that simple, Mike. She's above me in rank again, and as a new admiral, how can she have a relationship with someone who has a past like mine?"

He eyes me in a challenging, almost scornful manner, reminiscent of his grandmother. "I have a prediction, my friend. If that is the best excuse you can come up with to give her, you are going to have a fight on your hands." Then Mike rejoins Megan, and leaves me to chew on what he's said. It tastes about as good as leola root stew.

When Mrs. Janeway brushes past me, I can't help wondering at the look she gives me. Very similar to Kathryn's smirky grin, combined with something else. I'm getting the feeling that everyone knows something that I don't.

My uncertainty swamps me as I approach Kathryn. Are we always destined to recite, "So close, so close," as our personal litany?

"Congratulations, Admiral." I didn't mean to say that, but the words seem to come out on their own.

Kathryn places her hand on my chest, and it's just like we're back on Voyager again. How many hundreds of times has she done that to me?

"Chakotay, I meant what I said in the garden. Nothing is going to change that, I promise you."

Instead of filling me with hope, her words bring me only greater despair. "You can't promise me that, not now." And I touch the bright new addition to her collar.

Careless of where we are and who might be watching, she grabs my hand and holds it. She's got an amazing grip for such small hands. I recognize the stubborn look on her face, and am reminded of Mike's prediction.

"Yes, I can. Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do, if you actually believe I would let anything this small," she flicks at her collar, "stand in our way now that we're home."

"Kathryn, think about it. You're a new admiral. I know perfectly well that not everyone is happy about the decision not to prosecute the Maquis. What will the brass think of you consorting with a turncoat and former captain of the Maquis, not to mention being a subordinate to you? It could ruin your new career before it even begins."

Now I've done it. She looks downright angry as she takes a step closer, and in a tight voice that sounds like she's grinding rocks, declares, "Do you think I give a damn about what they think now? For seven years they owned every aspect of my life while Voyager was in the Delta Quadrant, and I'm not letting them dictate my private life for one minute more, Chakotay. Besides, my mother told me that attitudes toward in-house relationships have changed."

Suddenly the strange look from Mrs. Janeway starts to make sense. "You mother. You discussed us with her?"

"No. She discussed us with me. Or rather," she crooked that dangerous grin of hers at me, "she told me to go grab my man by the…"

"Kathryn!" I glance around us, concerned who might be within hearing distance.

"Hair, Chakotay, is what she said."

Lifting an eyebrow at her, I try to maintain a straight face as I ask, "Did she happen to specify whether that was long or short hair?"

She just leans into me, and her proximity sends my heart racing. "Half an hour, Chakotay," she whispers. "Then I come looking for you."

Leaving me with a pounding pulse and tight groin, she saunters across the ballroom toward the exit. At the door, she looks back at me, knowing I will still be watching her. Her face wears an openly hungry expression that would be obvious to anyone looking. Then she walks out, taking my heart and my breath with her.

And can you feel the love tonight?
How it's laid to rest?
It's enough to make kings and vagabonds
Believe the very best

*****

As I exit the ballroom, I have to shake my head in amusement. The gods, if there are any, have a strange sense of humor; I just gave Chakotay an ultimatum, and he's the hesitant one. Talk about role reversal.

Jenny Delaney is also waiting for the lift. At least, there's no ring on the left hand, and I'm certain I saw a Delaney standing with Mike Ayala, so I'm fairly sure this is Jenny. I nod to her.

"Congratulations, Admiral," she says. "You deserve it."

The title makes me wince, but I manage to smile. "Thanks, Jenny. It feels a little strange, but I'll get used to it, I suppose."

We didn't have a lot of interaction over the years, but on the few occasions that she participated in our senior staff meetings, I found her to be impressively concise and accurate in her facts. She knew her stuff well. Jenny looks me in the eye.

"I wanted to thank you for all you did for us. I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for you."

Her words are simple, but they touch me very deeply, and I have to blink back tears. There's lots of emotion flying around here tonight. My debt of gratitude to this whole crew for their steadfast support and willingness to work together can never be repaid or properly expressed. "Thank you, Jenny, but it was all of us. We were a team and it's because of how we worked together that we're here today. I could thank you just as much."

It takes me a moment to get my emotions under control so that I can add, "Lovely news about Mike and Megan. I guess you'll be maid of honor. Do they have any idea when?" I don't want to presume, but I hope they ask me to perform the ceremony; I'd love to do it for them.

"Megan said they don't want to wait long. Now that they're home, they're ready to get on with the next part of their lives."

Something we all have to do. "What about you, Jenny? Any thoughts on what you'd like to do next?"

"I thought about applying to the Academy to be an instructor. Do you think I'd be any good at it? Do you think they'd want me?"

There's a look of uncertainty on her face, and I'm very touched that she would ask my opinion. She's a smart young woman this one, lot's of potential. Comes across as flighty, but I think that underneath there's more to her than meets the eye. "Jenny, they'd be lucky to have you. If you like, I could speak to someone there for you, at least get you an interview. After that, of course, you're on your own."

The look of relief on her face is sweet. "Thank you, Cap…uh, Admiral. I would really appreciate it." Her smile is apologetic for the stumble. "It'll take me a while to get used to your new title too," she says. I can't help wondering how many times I'll introduce myself as 'Captain Janeway' before I get the hang of it also.

As the lift doors open, she asks, "Admiral, what about you? What are you going to do next?"

Looking down at my boots, I have a hard time not smiling. I wonder what Jenny would think if she knew what I was planning? I tell her that I want to see my sister, then take some leave. And that I will inevitably be working with Starfleet sorting through the massive amount of information we brought back on the Delta Quadrant. That's not all I've been contemplating, but she doesn't need to know that.

There's a funny look on Jenny's face, as though she's summoning up the courage to say something. Then, all in a rush, her words tumble out.

"Admiral, we're all so grateful to be home, but that journey is done. Like Megan and Mike, it's time for all of us to move on with our lives. You're not responsible for us any more, so you should just go ahead and do whatever you want that will make you happy."

I can't believe this; first my mother and now Jenny Delaney. The expression on her face almost makes me laugh; she's probably terrified I'm going to reprimand her. Little does she know what I'm really thinking. "You know, I think you're right, Jenny. I'll give it some serious thought." Oh, you just bet I will.

The senior staff has all been assigned rooms on the penthouse floor, and Jenny steps out with me. The mortified look and bright blush on her cheeks makes me smile. Just as I key in my code at my door, I point down the hallway. "I believe Harry's room is that way." I leave her standing with a sheepish grin on her face.

Once inside my door, I head straight to the bedroom. The bathtub is huge and I'd love to indulge, but there's no time. At least, I hope there's no time. I'm hoping the big oaf doesn't go all noble on me and make me go after him.

As I whip into the sonic shower, I can't help chuckling to myself. I have my mother's endorsement and Jenny Delaney's, although she doesn't know exactly what for. I pause for a second. Or does she? I had a feeling that Harry wanted to say something personal to me before his parents joined us, and this makes me wonder just how many of my old crew have some definite opinions on the relationship of Voyager's former command team?

The first thing I grab out of my closet is a lavender silk robe, then I go make myself a cup of coffee. Total bliss, to be back in the land of unlimited coffee. Pacing back and forth, I dither about what I should wear. Something seductive? Simple? Casual? My uniform? Yuck. I hope Chakotay doesn't make me go after him, because these new dress uniforms are a total pain, uncomfortable to wear, and hard to get into and out of.

People who know me well would have their mouths hanging open in disbelief, but I've actually forgotten about my coffee. I'm heading to the table to pick it up when the door chimes just as I'm standing in front of it. Heart pounding, I open the door immediately.

There's a time for everyone if they only learn
That the twisting kaleidoscope moves us all in turn
There's a rhyme and reason to the wild outdoors
When the heart of this star-crossed voyager beats in time with yours

*****

Chell wants to chat, and I spend several minutes talking with him, but I have no clue what we say. I think it's something about starting a restaurant, but he could have told me he's able to flap his arms and fly around the room for all I know. My mind is following a certain petite admiral up the lift to her room, wondering if she will take a bath, if she will really hunt me down if I don't come to her. Stupid. Of course she will. She's Kathryn Janeway.

In a few minutes, I'm standing outside her room, and although I know what I want - what I've always wanted - all my doubts about the wisdom of this assail me once more. I know she loves Starfleet, has given her life to it, and I do not want to be responsible for any hindrance to her continued advancement. Even still, my hand reaches out and presses the chime on her door.

She must have been standing right there, because it opens immediately, and those small strong hands grab my jacket and haul me inside. I am pressed back against the wall and her mouth is on mine before I can say a word.

The wonderful assault on my mouth stops just long enough for her to murmur, "You made the right choice, Captain. See? You are a smart guy, after all."

Then she's kissing me again, and it's heaven and hell all at the same time. It takes everything in me to grab her arms and push her back a step. Bad move. She's changed into a light purple silk robe and I'd say from the outline of her nipples showing through, she's not wearing much else. "Kathryn, wait," is all that I manage to gasp.

"Seven years of waiting is enough, don't you think, Chakotay? Unless you don't want me?" She turns away and crosses her arms over her chest.

My heart constricts. "Spirits, you know that's not so! But I don't want to be an impediment to your career. You'd wind up hating me for it."

Turning back to me, she reaches up to touch my face. "I don't know what's going to happen with Starfleet and us, but I do know this. All those years, I chose Starfleet over you. I don't believe it's going to come down to that choice again, but if it does, believe me when I tell you, the results will be entirely different. I love you, Chakotay and I'm no longer willing to sacrifice today for a tomorrow that may never happen."

Something snaps in me hearing my own words from so long ago spoken back at me, and I pull her to me, kissing her hard. No gentle kiss this, but a tight melding of mouths, of breath, of life. Then she's fumbling with the unfamiliar fasteners on my new dress uniform and swearing at her ineffectual struggles. My hands join in the efforts and the two of us probably make it worse until I finally yank her robe off her shoulders, exposing her to the waist and pinning her arms in the sleeves.

The sight of her beauty shocks me to momentary stillness, the creamy white skin, the light smattering of freckles, the rosy pink nipples impudently pointing at me. She's everything I ever imagined and more, and my knees collapse. I drag her to the floor with me, and I stop only long enough to shrug out of the cursed uniform jacket and undershirt, then my mouth latches onto one beautiful nipple, sucking and nipping.

The sounds coming from her throat are primal and I'm not totally sure if they indicate pleasure or not. She's freed her arms from the sleeves, and the tugging of my face away from her breast makes me doubt for a second, until I realize she's just guiding me across her chest. Back arching, she nearly pushes her other breast into my mouth, and a satisfied cry comes from her as I begin to suck anew.

Now I am the frustrated one, shaking fingers fumbling with the tie of her robe, needing with a sudden desperation to see all of her.

This time, her hands are the steady ones, and she brushes mine away to undo the tie herself. "Off." She pushes at my shoulders until I sit up, then she follows and opens the robe. My Kathryn, surrounded by a river of pale purple silk, beautifully, gloriously naked.

I once overheard a couple of crewmen debating whether the captain was a real redhead or not. Well, she is, and the soft spring of auburn curls draws my eyes. I want to touch her, but she gives me no opportunity as she shoves me onto my back, and yanks my boots and socks off, followed quickly by my pants and underwear.

Sitting back on her heels, she looks me over. "Oh, gods, you're gorgeous." Her husky voice is almost a moan, and when she trails a fingertip over my penis, I have to grab her wrist or I'm going to lose it here and now. Her touch, the look of desire on her face, is almost more than I can take.

Kathryn's always been decisive, rarely second guessing herself, and she knows what she wants. It's almost stunning for me to realize, she wants me, and as her hands move over me, the explosion of hunger from her makes it obvious this isn't something new. It's as though floodwaters long dammed up have suddenly burst their confines.

I always imagined our first lovemaking would be exquisitely slow and tender, not this almost savage thing. The passion between us is like a untamed stallion tearing across a open plain. As I sit up, Kathryn grabs one of my hands and draws it between her legs, pressing and guiding my fingers. She is already swollen and slick with moisture. My hand explores her, yet is guided by her fingers and her sharp gasps of breath. Taking her other hand, I bring it to my erection, leading her hand over me.

Her face is flushed, mouth open, panting, her pelvis tilting into my hand. Eyes locked, neither of us look away, both giving and receiving pleasure. The feeling of her small hand on me is almost overwhelming, particularly when her fist tightens around me. Pressing my fingers inside her, she rocks on my hand, finally breaking eye contact as she throws her head back and cries out as strong muscles grip my fingers.

Then it's my turn to push her to the floor, and I'm on top of her, her legs wrapping around me, her hands clawing at my back as I sink into her tight heat.

" Please, Chakotay. Love me."

"I do," is all I can manage, as her continuing pleas and arching pelvis that meets my every thrust, send me over the edge of control to an abyss of near madness. Seven long years of denial, restraint, and repression completely shatter, and I am falling, falling, falling. Had she asked me to stop, I would have, but I'm very glad she didn't, because I went a little crazy.

Back on Quarra, when the memory-wiped Kathryn told me she was moving in with Jaffen, I'd been surprised at the shaft of pain that shot through me. After all, we were just friends. Yet something died in me that day. But right now, the momentary hazy thought that flits through my brain, is that I'm glad she was with Jaffen just a short while ago, so that this is not her first time after a long abstinence, because we are not gentle with each other. The urgency is too strong, too desperate for it to be that way for us this time. Her body moves with every thrust I make, and pinpricks of pain in my back and shoulders from her gripping fingers penetrate my consciousness.

Our bodies surge against each other to a fast completion, and our howls are long and loud. Arms trembling, I try to hold my body off her, as I easily weigh eighty to ninety pounds more than she. My head drops to Kathryn's shoulder, and I wince as her fingers uncurl from my back, removing her nails from my flesh. For both of us, breath is slow to calm, and all my traitorous tongue can say - over and over - is, "Kathryn, I love you. I love you."

When I am finally able to raise my head, my heart nearly stops when I look into her face. Eyes closed, tears trickle out of the corners. "Kathryn?"

Then those beautiful blue eyes that have turned my life upside down for the last seven years open and she smiles. It's like sunshine to my soul.

In a voice that is a little hoarse, she murmurs, "I knew it would be like this with you."

I cradle her head in my hands, smoothing damp hair away from her face. "Did you? I always imagined it would be a lot slower and not so fierce."

She brushes my lips lightly. "I meant, I knew it would be this intense, this all-consuming. I knew that once the connection had been fulfilled between us, there would be no going back, and I just couldn't take that chance, not out there."

Whether Kathryn was right or wrong in keeping us apart for our journey through the Delta Quadrant is mote at this point. She's right; there is no turning back now. Looking around me, I start to laugh, and it makes me slip out of her.

"What are you laughing about?" She starts to grin, but at the same, looks a little put out.

"Look where we are."

We are lying on the floor just inside the door. "Kathryn, anybody walking by would have heard us and known exactly what we were doing, especially with you screaming in my ear the way you did."

"Me! I'm the one who's going to have to explain to the Doctor why I'm suddenly hard of hearing because of that warrior's yell of yours. But you know what?" She slides her arm under mine and strokes my tattoo with a finger. "I really don't give a damn."

I grin at her. "About your hearing loss, or explaining it to the Doctor?"

"About anyone hearing us. I put us on hold for seven years, and I'm not going to do that any more. I love you too much for that."

She's always had the ability to surprise me; it's one of the things I treasure about her. We kiss for a long time after that. Kisses as slow, tender, and gentle as our lovemaking hadn't been. Sweet touches, healing for the soul, deep explorations, tongues tangling, making my blood sing for her all over again.

Then Kathryn shocks me one more time. Looking earnestly into my eyes, she asks me, "Chakotay, will you marry me? Tonight?"

There's a time for everyone if they only learn
That the twisting kaleidoscope moves us all in turn
There's a rhyme and reason to the wild outdoors
When the heart of this star-crossed voyager beats in time with yours

*****

He's here. He didn't stay away. That handsome face that I've loved for so long, wears a look of desire combined with uncertainty. The relief and nerves curl through me at the sight of him like interlacing cords of twine. Before either of us can say a word, I grab his jacket front with both hands and pull him inside. I have to kiss him, I just have to. Day after day, we sat next to each other on the bridge, and if I'd had a replicator ration for every time I had uncaptainly thoughts about that mouth of his, I would never have run out of coffee the whole long journey. I am more aroused than I ever remember being.

When he pushes me back, telling me to wait, I feel like I've been doused in cold water, and I'm slightly embarrassed. I know my nipples are sticking out, so I cross my arms over my chest. Just like I thought, he's more concerned about my career than I am.

How do I make him see? How do I get through to him? What we experienced during those years in the Delta Quadrant is more than most captains ever get to see, so how can sitting at a desk as an admiral, deciding the finer points of policy and protocol ever top that? I don't want the rest of my career to be merely hearkening to the excitement of past glory days. Like James T. Kirk before me, if I'm not making a real difference, what's the point? While it may be manipulative, I can play dirty if I have to, and I use the very words Chakotay spoke to me on New Earth so long ago, that I won't sacrifice any more of my todays for a future that may never happen.

The reaction from him is more than I could possibly hope for. It's not the gentle lovemaking I had always imagined, but it's what we both need right now. Before I know it, we're on the floor, almost wrestling in our need to pleasure each other. His body is so beautiful, everything and more than I've dreamed. The way he looks at me, touches me, kisses me, there's no stopping the wildfire of heat raging out of control through my body.

His hands, oh, his wonderful hands, showing me how to touch him, touching me in return, sending me over the edge. Then he's inside me, his love filling every empty spot, every lonely place in my soul from the drought of long years of aloneness. I'm only vaguely aware of my fingers digging into his back, the abrasive carpet against my skin, the primal scream from both of us as we soar together. Although I knew that I would climax, I really, honestly did not care if I did. What is important, is creating this oneness, this completeness as we finally join together. I know now what I didn't know seven years ago; this was inevitable from the moment we met. We lie in each other's arms, and the idea that I might have missed this brings tears to my eyes.

"Kathryn?" I can hear the concern in his voice. Lovely man, wonderful man, my Chakotay. If there are deities out there somewhere, I am grateful to them for this incredible gift that I am not worthy of: Chakotay, and his love.

When he laughingly points out where we are, I realize that had we rolled about three more feet, we would have triggered the automatic door. I have a brief vision of Harry walking by just at that moment, stuttering and stammering at the amazing sight of his former commanding officers naked and writhing at his feet.

We kiss for a long time, and it's so achingly beautiful, so lovingly tender, it almost makes me cry. I never want to be without him. Never. I want him in my life, every day, every minute, whatever life brings us, both good and bad.

I hadn't planned on this, but as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know it's right. I only hope he knows it too. "Chakotay, will you marry me? Tonight?"

He goes very still and the look of shock on his face gives way to speculation, like he's trying to figure out what's really going on. I'm glad he doesn't move to pull away from me because I'm feeling rather vulnerable right now. Propped on his elbows over me, he studies my face. I'm very conscious of the warm, hard length of his big body along mine.

The silence is unnerving me. "It's okay, you don't have…"

Fingers on my lips stop me. "Why tonight, Kathryn?"

At least he didn't say 'no', or 'are you out of your mind?' Or worse yet, start laughing. What to say? How to explain how I feel? "I've loved you for so long, Chakotay. I don't want to be apart from you; I don't want a life separate from you."

"We don't have to be married to have that," he answers quietly.

"I know, but…" I pause, trying to put words to what I'm feeling. "We've seen each other at our best and our worst. We've been through good times, bad times, and awful times. Maybe I need you to know that I'm serious about us, that I'm not just trying this out. I don't think there will be any opposition to our relationship, but if there is, I want them to know this is a total commitment on my part, that I will not be dissuaded."

Something in his eyes shifts, softens. His fingers trace my lips making them tickle. "Again, why tonight? We could wait until we know what's happening with us both. Be engaged for a while."

Engaged. The word brings ice to my soul; without knowing, Chakotay has hit a major nerve that I didn't even realize was there. If anybody had ever said that I had a single superstitious bone in my body, I'd have laughed them right out of the quadrant. But now… I glance away.

"What is it, Kathryn? Tell me."

My focus is on my fingers stroking the soft skin just over his collarbone. The breath I take is shaky and I speak slowly. "Well, the first time I was engaged, my fiancé died. The second time, I got thrown across the galaxy, as good as dead to him. I guess the idea of another engagement just isn't too appealing."

Chakotay's hand against my cheek brings my eyes back to his. Love, tenderness, understanding - it's all there. As he studies me, a slow smile spreads across his face. That beautiful smile that could melt a glacier, can certainly melt the icy fear around my heart.

"Kathryn Janeway, would you do me the honor of marrying me tonight?"

Then I'm laughing and crying at the same time. I've been in tears or close to them more times today than probably our entire journey through the Delta Quadrant. There can only be one answer. "Yes."

He bends his head and kisses the tear that trickles from my eye. "Then, I will be very pleased to marry you. Tonight."

We lie there grinning at each other like we just raided a Ferengi bank, until Chakotay says, "Who are we going to get to marry us at this hour?"

"Owen is one of the hosts, so he'll still be here. Guess that's a duty I'll be stuck with soon." Reluctantly, I push at Chakotay's shoulders, and he sits up, reaching his hand to assist me to do the same. I feel almost bereft at the separation of our bodies. We were pressed together for so long, that the slight swirl of dark hair arrowing down his lower abdomen has left markings in my skin. At the squishy sound between my legs as I sit up, Chakotay rises and walks to the coffee table for the tissue box.

I take the opportunity to sneak a look at the back of him, and the sight of the small moon-shaped markings etched in red on his shoulders makes me cry out with remorse. "Oh, Chakotay, look what I've done to you!"

Handing the tissue box to me, he strains to look over his shoulder. "I hardly noticed." He smirks at me. "I had other things to think about."

After mopping up a bit, I get to my feet prepared to head to my bedroom. "I have a dermal regenerator," I tell him. The cool air in the room touches my still heated body, and I stoop to grab the robe.

"Uh, Kathryn?"

With one arm through the sleeve, I look back over my shoulder to find Chakotay, head tilted to the side, eyeing my backside. "What?"

It's his turn to look chagrined. "I'm not the only one going to need that regenerator. You've got a pretty good case of carpet burn." His eyes flick up to mine. "Sorry about that."

"You didn't hear me complaining, did you?"

He grins saucily. "I couldn't hear very much at all with you screaming like that."

"We already discussed this, so just stop, you brat, you."

When I return to the room, there's a strange look on Chakotay's face as he watches me approach. "What is it?"

He looks away, then back at me. "I just never expected when I got up this morning, that I would be getting married tonight."

Although I want this, I don't want him to do it just because of me. "Chakotay, if you don't want…"

Holding his hand out, he draws me down beside him. "Kathryn, it's all I've ever really wanted, to have my life completely knit to yours. I guess I just needed to know that…" My big, beautiful, strong warrior looks a little bashful. "I needed to know that you want me. That you want us, enough that you'd be willing to fight for us, if need be."

So many, many times I had shut down every opportunity for a deeper relationship with him while on Voyager. How many wounds on his soul are attributable to my actions? I touch his face. "I'm so sorry, Chakotay. I hurt you so much."

He turns his face into my palm and kisses it. "No more than I did you."

As I work the instrument over his back, he asks, "How come you have your own dermal regenerator?"

"The doctor got tired of me constantly showing up with scrapes and cuts from helping out in Engineering or crawling through some Jeffries tube, so he finally broke down and issued me my own. I just got in the habit of always carrying it with me."

Chakotay looks askance at me over his shoulder. "It couldn't have been that easy. What did you have to promise him?"

Sighing, I admit the truth. "I had to promise to quit ducking my physicals." At his questioning glance, I protest. "Hey, I went for the last three with only one reminder each time." I hand the regenerator to him, drop the robe off beside me, and lay on my stomach. Odd that I have absolutely no self-consciousness before this man.

I hear the sound of the instrument for a few seconds, then feel the stroke of his hand down my back and over my buttocks. It's a soothing yet stirring touch that starts to quicken my breathing. I shift, ready to roll over, wanting more, wanting to touch him again.

"No. Don't move." His voice is gravelly in my ear as he bends over me. "If you turn over now, we'll never get out of here tonight." He nips my earlobe, then laves it with his tongue. Nudging my hair aside, he kisses my neck just below my ear. That spot, the one that makes my body melt.

Breath, hot and ragged, is in my ear. "I want you again, Kathryn. You're even more beautiful than I dreamed, and I dreamed of you a lot. Did you know that?" I certainly know how often I dreamed of him - enough to keep the recycler filled with sweaty sheets.

The solid press of his body is along my back, my butt, between my legs - and I want him. My hands stretch before me, searching for something to grasp, something solid to anchor myself from flying apart in a million tiny space particles. I start to shake as I feel his hand skim up my over my ribs, caressing the side of my breast. Then his other hand slides down my arm until he laces his fingers through the backs of mine. His erection nudges me between my legs and I arch my pelvis back against him. He groans, and I feel him go motionless on top of me, his fingers gripping mine so hard it hurts. Slowly, he begins to retreat off me, and I cannot prevent my sigh of regret. The robe is drawn over my body, the cool silk causing shivers over my heated skin, and his hands tug me up.

Those eyes. So dark, so deep. I could drown in the intensity of the swirling passion. His voice is hoarse. "Go make the call, Kathryn. Now."

If it were not for the thought that enters my head, I might have stayed there, hypnotized by the sight of my desire mirrored on his face, but I scramble to me feet, quickly tying the robe. "Oh my goodness. I have two calls to make."

"Two?"

"My mother." Initiating the inter-building connection, I explain. "Starfleet put her up in this very building for the night, and if I were to get married with her this close by and not tell her, we may as well head straight back to the Delta Quadrant, because life as we know it would be over." Looking up, I'm distracted by the sight of that big gorgeous body lying on his side, naked as the day he was born. All those muscles, all that lovely tawny skin. His erection is still rampant.

"You'd better quit ogling me, and switch to Audio Only on your call," he tells me with a smirk.

Glancing down, I can see from the flush of my chest that the curse of fair skin has struck again. God only knows what my face looks like. I get the visual key disengaged just before I hear my mother's voice saying hello. "Hi Mom, it's me. Were you in bed?"

"No, Kathryn, I'm in the middle of an orgy on the living room floor. Where else would I be?" I wince at her words and out of the corner of my eye, I can see Chakotay clapping a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking.

All my years of Starfleet training and experience, through times of danger, and hundreds of first contacts, never prepared me for this. "Uh, Mom, would you be willing to meet me in Owen's office, in say, twenty minutes?" I cringe at the tentative sound in my own voice.

"What's up, Katie? Did they change their minds already about that promotion of yours?"

"No, it's not that. I, um…"

That authoritative commanding voice I recognize all too well from my childhood sounds loud and clear. Ensigns would have been cowering before her had she chosen a career in Starfleet. "Out with it, girl. Now. What's going on?"

"I, um…" Looking across the room at Chakotay, who's wearing nothing but a grin, distracts me momentarily for some reason. "I'm getting married." There, said it. Silence. "Mom? You still there?"

The burst of laughter through the console makes me jump. "Kathryn Marie Janeway, I just don't believe you! You dilly-dally around for seven years, and in one evening, you up and decide to get married. Talk about the long and the short of things. Yes, of course I'll be there. I suppose my prospective son-in-law is your former first officer?"

Smiling at my love, who's still looking quite at ease lying the floor, I reply, "Yes, Mom, it's Chakotay."

"So I guess that means you didn't have to go hunting after all. Good. Shows that the man has some brains under that lovely full head of hair he's got. Tell me, Kathryn - since I would bet my last cup of coffee that you already know - is he as gorgeous out of uniform as he is in it? I never thought anybody could make that uniform look good, but he certainly does."

Mortified, I grit through my teeth. "Mom!" Chakotay doesn't help at all by bursting into laughter.

"Oh, I get it. He's there right now. That you chortling in the background, Chakotay?"

How he manages to speak while still laughing like that, I'll never know. "Yes, ma'am, Chakotay here," he responds. I love that dark voice of his. Love him.

"Forget the ma'am stuff, young man. I like it as little as my daughter does. Seems you're family now, so I guess you'd better call me Mom."

Chakotay blinks a couple of times, and I can tell he's very moved.

"I…appreciate that. Thank you…Mom."

"You sure you want to marry Katie, Chakotay? She's a difficult one, you know. But then, I guess you do know, since you've been dealing with her for seven years."

Chakotay's laughing again as I frown. "Thanks a lot, Mom. Love you too."

"Katie, you just be glad I'm not younger, or I'd give you a run for your money with that hunk of yours."

That hunk chooses that moment to stand up and walk toward me, uncaring about his unclothed state. My heart is in my throat at the delicious sight of six feet of golden naked glory approaching me. He draws me into his arms, the warmth of his body seeping through the silk against mine.

"It wouldn't do you any good, Mom," he says. He's taken to this 'Mom' thing quite well. "I love your daughter, and I've become accustomed to taking care of her. Even though she can, indeed, be a difficult one at times."

My mother laughs in delight at that, but I poke him in the ribs with an elbow, eliciting an, "Oof," out of him.

"Well said, young man, well said. Now, Katie dearest, you still haven't said if he's as gorgeous out of uniform as he is in it."

The hot tongue that rims my ear is making it hard to think, much less speak.

"I'm waiting."

Chakotay whispers in my ear, "So am I, love. Well, am I?"

What a saucy beggar he is. The shiver of joy that courses through me is partly attributable to his nuzzling my neck and partly because of him calling me his love. Me, Chakotay's love. Such a difference from how my day started.

My voice sounds breathy even to my own ears. "Yes, Mom, he is."

"You two better quit whatever it is you're doing if you expect to be in Owen's office in less than twenty minutes. Pity you'll have to wear that ugly uniform, Katie, but oh well, it can't be helped. See you in a few."

She closes the connection while I struggle to push Chakotay away, all the delectable sensations he's evoking making my arms weaker than usual. "Stop it, or we'll never make it out of here. Go take a quick sonic shower while I contact Owen."

Kissing me thoroughly before he leaves takes care of what little strength I have left in my knees, and I sink into the chair in front of the console. Chakotay is finished with his shower by the time Owen and I are done. Fortunately, like the fine admiral he is, he takes it all in stride, and gives me much less of a rough time than my own mother.

By the time I return from my shower, Chakotay is dressed again, and I have to admit that Mom is right: he does look mighty fine in that uniform. But I like how he looks out of it even better.

As we wait for the lift, he asks me, "What would you like to do about a honeymoon?"

"Well, it just happens that I have quite a lot of leave coming to me."

"Strange, so do I."

We can't seem to stop smiling at each other. Every slight shift of my body brings a reminder of what we just did on the floor of my rooms. I think I may not stop smiling for the next forty or fifty years, give or take a few. "I haven't seen my sister yet since she's so close to delivering."

"And I would like to see my sister and my cousin."

It pricks at me to know that's basically all the family he has left. I pull my mind back from that sad direction to add, "However, I think it would probably be prudent for us to get off planet. This might have some interesting repercussions, particularly once it's announced to the media."

The doors open and we step inside. "Agreed. Speaking of media," he turns to me, eyebrow raised. "I'm wondering just how the media got wind of the fact that Starfleet was procrastinating on the Maquis issue."

I studiously avoid his eye. "I can't imagine how that happened."

One warm hand grasps my chin and turns my face around. His eyes and his voice are serious. "Kathryn, while I deeply appreciate it on behalf of myself and my former crew, that could have been very dangerous if anyone in 'fleet found out what you did."

Taking hold of his hand, I reply earnestly, "Chakotay, do you think I give a damn about that? They were deliberately dragging their heels, just trying to make everyone sweat. I hate that kind of manipulation, and since I just happened to get a call from Jake Sisko, son of my old friend, Ben, asking how I was doing, and Jake just happens to work in the press…" I let the sentence finish itself. "I'd say 'all's well that end's well,' wouldn't you?"

The look of love in his eyes is everything I could want, even though he's shaking his head at me. "You are amazing. I want to kiss you everywhere." His dark voice shivers through me as he pulls me against his side.

My voice sounds weak. "Everywhere? Like the turbolift?"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. Although the turbolift works fine for me."

Then my back is against the wall, and his hard length is pressed against me. I wonder if I'll ever get used to the thrill of knowing that he wants me. "Down, boy," I murmur.

"Kathryn, it's a good thing that Starfleet designs their trousers loose, because most of the time I was near you over the last seven years, I was in a state of semi-arousal."

"Only semi?" I tease, but he thrusts his hips against me, making me gasp.

"Sometimes it was a lot more than semi," he growls in my ear and nips my neck.

We feel the lift come to a halt and separate just in time for the doors to open. Silently, we head down the hallway to the moving walkway that will take us to the office section. How strange. We're side by side, totally connected, yet not even touching. We've walked together like this so many times over the years, I have to remind myself that I'm not on my way to a meeting but to my own wedding. Just before the hallway to Owen's office I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

He's heard me. Stopping me with his hand on my arm, he looks down at me. "We don't have to do this if you're having second thoughts."

There is no hesitation to my reply. "None here. What about you?"

The beautiful smile that carried me through the worst days in the Delta Quadrant wraps around my heart. "Nope. Not a one. But I think you should be prepared that Tom and B'E might be there too."

"The way that Voyager's grapevine works at the speed of light, I won't be surprised if half the crew is here."

Then we round the corner and both come to a dead halt. I'm surprised, very surprised. Half the crew is not waiting for us.

Lining both sides of the whole length of the hallway to Owen's office is our entire crew. Every last one of them. Even Naomi, who's looking wide-awake again, jiggling from one foot to the other. The sight of Seven stops my breath, but she gives a tiny smile and nods to us both. Even Harry and Jenny are there, although I'm positive that's a beard burn on the side of her face.

My mother pops her head out the door to Owen's office at the far end, then ducks back inside, probably to announce our arrival. Tom Paris steps out, and with a wicked grin, starts clapping. Soon the entire hallway is reverberating with the applause of our crew, even including Tuvok, and I can't stop the tears, command training or no command training.

Chakotay takes my hand, looping it through his elbow. He's smiling, but his eyes are suspiciously bright. "Well, my love. Are you with me?"

My own words from so long ago at the time of the slipstream, spoken back to me. The same, yet so different. There is only one possible response. "Always."

Side by side, just like we've been from the beginning of this strange journey, we step forward, surrounded by the love and support of this family. Was it chance or fate that brought us all together? It doesn't matter. We'll always be family, and a new journey is just beginning for us all.

And can you feel the love tonight?
It is where we are
It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer
That we got this far
And can you feel the love tonight?
How it's laid to rest?
It's enough to make kings and vagabonds
Believe the very best
It's enough to make kings and vagabonds
Believe the very best

The End

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