Rated PG
Disclaimer: Sad to say, Paramount owns all things Voyager.
Summary: Two joined drabbles from Janeway's, then Chakotay's POV. Birthday present for Shayenne.
I know I'm being selfish and indulgent. I really should be reading reports on the repairs underway, the state of our engines after this last battle with whoever they were. But it's late, and here I sit in sick bay, holding his hand, knowing that if he were awake, I'd have to make the visit short and professional. Doc assured me that he's going to be fine, so I indulge myself, just watching him breathe, enjoying the life that's in the warmth of his hand. Pretending for these stolen minutes that he's more than just my first officer and friend.
I know I'm being selfish, keeping her here by pretending to be asleep. Kathryn asked me yesterday, "Do we have a sign on our ship that says, 'Hit me'?" My head and left shoulder throb rhythmically, and I'm thirsty. I want to ask her, "Did anyone die? How is the ship? How are you?" But I keep my mouth shut, knowing that if I open my eyes, she will smile and excuse herself, and head back to work. This way, I can pretend for these precious moments that she is here not just because I'm her first officer and friend.
The End
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© Brianna Thomas, April 2006 Please email me to post/distribute elsewhere.