WHAT THE CREW DOESN'T KNOW

Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything. I get nothing from this.

Rated NC-17 for swearing and explicit sex.

On a ship the size of Voyager it's hard to keep a secret. One hundred and forty-seven souls, floating around the Delta Quadrant in a tin can. People share quarters. People share the mess hall. People share the same computer systems for their private thoughts and it's not hard to tap into them. People share secrets whether they want to or not.

Even from my lofty perch at the top of the chain of command, I am privy to people's secrets. It's hard not to be. Tom spills the gossip sometimes to entertain us on the bridge when it's so dull that Vulcan poetry would be a relief. I tap into the notes that he and Harry exchange - I have been routing them through my console for three years now and I learn a lot that way. Neelix is a good source of information as he pours me a coffee in the morning and tries to cheer me up. Six years and he still hasn't realized I don't need "cheering up" in the mornings. I just need coffee. But I keep up the pretence as he is useful, passing on tidbits of information that other people withhold from me, thinking I don't need to know as I am the Captain, and I am not to know my crew is human.

And of course I use my eyes. A combination of Neelix and observation filled me in on Harry's night with Megan Delaney, even before most of the crew knew about it. Harry and Megan had been accidentally locked in the holodeck overnight. Megan's reputation as a wild child is apparently very fitting. I think Harry lost his innocence that night. Oh I don't mean literally his virginity, I'm sure even our baby-faced Harry can fuck like a rabbit when he wants to. But I don't think he had any real idea of the infinite possibilities that a willing man and an imaginative woman can achieve together before that night. I think Mr. Straight-Sex-Kim broadened his mind and his repertoire that night. On the bridge the next day he was wide-eyed and slightly bemused. He had the dazed and confused look of a deer caught in the headlights. It must have been too much for him, as the grapevine later reported that he never went back.

The crew thinks it knows everything, about everyone. They don't know that I have secrets too. The crew thinks it knows everything about Chakotay and I. Oh, it took them a while, but now they think they have the scenario down pat, and it would take public and graphic affection from one or both of us to change their collective mindset. The crew thinks we danced around each other for too long. The crew thinks that they saw the attraction early on, obvious on Chakotay's part, more subtle on mine, which of course they attribute to Protocol, with a capital P. The crew thinks it was Protocol that kept us apart, at least in those early days. When we were left together on New Earth, the crew thinks we had a relationship. They think that was the start of something between us. The crew thinks that the budding romance didn't survive the transition back to the ship. The crew knows things were strained for a while, and puts it down to the angst of two lovers torn away by circumstances. Now the crew sees us as friends. Relaxed, fairly happy, close friends. And that is what the crew thinks. As I said, it will take a photon torpedo to change their perception.

What the crew doesn't know is that we were lovers long before New Earth. The crew was partly right about some things. They were certainly right about the attraction between Chakotay and myself. That attraction was overwhelming and instantaneous for both of us. When we first met, in the flesh so to speak, when he had his phaser trained on me, we both felt the pull of physical attraction. What woman wouldn't? I'm sure I don't need to list his physical attributes - I could mould him in clay with my eyes closed, I know his body so well, but he also has a sexual magnetism that is the most compelling thing about him. That and his stillness. The man oozes sex. Part of his charm is that he is genuinely unaware of his appeal. I doubt there is a woman on this ship, and probably some men as well, who haven't fantasized about having him in their bed. When you talk to him, he focuses on you completely. You have the feeling you are the only thing in his universe for that suspended moment. It is difficult not to relate that to sex. If he is that involved in you when you are merely talking about leola root, what would he be like if he was lying with you skin to skin? The thought makes me light-headed.

I know what he is like to lie with. I know how for him, sex is a transcendental union of souls. He doesn't take it lightly; he is intense, completely absorbed, and conversely very, very generous. Once he was so caught up in his inner experience and he was approaching his orgasm, pumping into me hard. The red alert sounded. He didn't notice. I let him finish.

He also likes to fuck. Pure unconnected physical release. He fences himself in for that somehow, in some way that I don't understand. He reins in that instinctive connection to the other and just plays, keeps it light, and then lets himself go like an animal.

I know both sides of him. I think I am the only person that does. Well, maybe Riley that bitch of an ex-Borg does, but let's not talk about her.

When I offered him the first officer's job, I was also offering him myself on a plate. He knew that, and wanted that as much as he wanted the job, as much as he wanted to stay out of the brig for the next seventy years.

He didn't touch me then, in the ready room, but I could tell he wanted to. His eyes followed me around the room, his hands clenched into fists to keep himself from touching me. How do I know all of this? He told me later, and besides I was doing the same to stop myself grabbing him and pulling his head down to mine.

We became lovers a few weeks later. We waited, heightening the tension to unbearable levels, both of us playing, wondering who would be the first to break.

He was.

I remember how just after I made B'Elanna the Chief Engineer, he made a comment about the Maquis. If things had been different would I have served under him? Knowing full well what I would have done, I winked at him and didn't answer.

That night he came to my quarters. The game was over. I knew he would come that night. In fact, I had been waiting for him, pacing the floor in my nightgown - a pink satiny one with a light robe over the top. The door chime went and I let him in without leaving my position by the viewport. He didn't say a word and neither did I. He just crossed over to me and gently slipped the robe off my shoulders. The lights were dim, but the stars flashing by a warp speed gave us all the light we needed. Still without saying a word, he then slipped the straps of my nightgown off my shoulders. They slipped down my body, caught on the slope of my breasts, exposing the upper curve. Still he said nothing, just looked at me, maybe waiting for me to tell him to stop, that it was still all a game, one that I never had any intention of completing.

I said nothing. Did nothing.

I think I know well who I am and I know my strengths and weaknesses. Until then I had never known what it was like to have physical power over a man. Reduce him to nothing at my whim, or build him into a god. I am not beautiful. My features are too strong, my body firm but unexceptional. Men have never begged for my favors, or panted after me in lust.

When Chakotay slipped the straps of my nightgown down from my shoulders and stared hungrily at the shape of my breasts, I comprehended the power that beautiful women have. I could have destroyed him in that instant with a flippant remark, or worse, walked away. Instead I did neither.

I slipped the gown off completely, let it fall to my feet and stood before him naked. He bent over me and gently brushed his lips to mine, his eyes wide open.

It was the last gentle thing between us that night, or for a long time. I grabbed him, forced his lips apart. He did the same. Both of us knew that this was it, no more games, we were going to take what we both wanted. I was ready for him. I wanted to be taken roughly, forcefully and completely. I wanted him so far inside me that it hurt. He gave me all of that and more. He pulled off the top of his uniform and unzipped his fly. His penis was magnificent. Thick and mouthwateringly long. I wanted to taste him but it was many nights before we slowed down enough in our couplings that I could. Five minute sex, the quickie. We could have invented it.

I touched his penis and he put his hand between my legs, one long finger testing my readiness. Ready - I was dripping.

He pushed me back against the wall and impaled me with one thrust. Two minutes later we were both coming so hard, that I at least saw stars and had to hold onto him so that I didn't fall down. I have never come so hard or so quickly in my life, certainly with no foreplay and no stroking. Surprisingly we were both quiet.

When we had finished, he pulled out of me, his semen gushed down my thighs. I wet my fingers with it and tasted him. He looked at me a long moment then turned away, dressing himself. Then, still without a word, he let himself out of my quarters.

We went on like that for over a year. Oh, eventually we did more than just fuck. We talked. Got to know each other a little. Nothing too deep. I think it was a month before we shared a lover's kiss, a gentle tongue tangling kiss, the sort people normally share before they jump each others bones. The night of that first kiss, was also the night I saw Chakotay totally lose himself in me on more then a physical level. If souls can speak to each other, his was speaking to mine that night. Mine didn't answer, but I observed him, saw how totally sex could affect him. He showed that side to me more and more.

We never spent the night together in all that time. In fact, we never spent more than an hour together. It was just sex. Wild, wonderful, imaginative, uninhibited, anything goes sex. Certainly I didn't love him at the time. Sure I genuinely liked him thought of him as a friend, a good friend, but love? No. Love was for my fiancé, Mark.

I didn't feel guilty about cheating on Mark. Sex with Chakotay didn't count. The age-old excuse of men throughout the ages. Besides, my sex life with Mark was nothing like this. He was staid and unadventurous. Missionary position once a week. He wouldn't go down on me, said he didn't like the taste, so in retaliation I wouldn't go down on him, although I love the salty musk of a man down there.

I never bothered to think about whether Chakotay loved me. Of course, I know now that he didn't in the beginning, but he did on New Earth. And then he didn't.

The crew doesn't know we were lovers. The crew doesn't know we slaked ourselves in each other's bodies every night for over a year.

And then we were stranded on New Earth and it broke our relationship. If you could call it that.

Being the only two people in the universe - and that is what it felt like - can change perceptions. Of course we talked about it. Agreed that we couldn't afford to fall out. We worked on building a relationship that was based on more then sex. Passion alone wouldn't sustain us for the next forty or fifty years. But it was difficult. We hadn't needed to have more then a superficial relationship before this. Hadn't needed to connect past command, a few flirtatious comments, a light friendship and of course sex. We stumbled over it. You can't force intimacy, the true friends-by-the-fire intimacy of happily married couples. Chakotay coped better than I. He is a very giving person and he gave freely, bringing me small presents, building me a bathtub, doing most of the chores.

One night, in a roundabout way he told me he loved me. It moved me deeply and made me think that maybe I could have a genuine relationship with him. That night we didn't have sex. That night we made love.

But it wasn't enough. We felt we hadn't enough in common, and by the time we were rescued things were pretty tense between us. Two years of intense sex had dulled our appetite for each other and there was little companionship, real love or true closeness to take its place. To give him credit Chakotay tried harder than I.

When we went back to the ship it was all over. We never actually said anything to end it, but then we'd never actually said anything to start it either so it seemed fitting.

Life and the Delta Quadrant intruded. We grew apart, we grew close, we grew apart again. The crew watched us, cataloging our moves, the time we spent together or apart. Wondering if we were lovers, occasionally setting us up. Ironic, if they had studied us this closely before New Earth we could never have hidden our affair.

But over the years, we gained something more precious to both of us then those first heady months of passion. We gained a very real, very true friendship. And we gained love.

Ironic isn't it. I never loved Chakotay in all the time he owned my body. In all the times he made me come apart in his arms, I never once felt a flicker of anything more than lust for him. But now... now I can't live without him. Considering I felt I couldn't live with him on New Earth this is no mean feat. We tried too hard I think, on New Earth. We had shared our bodies long before we shared anything else. In retrospect, that early sharing of bodies delayed our intimacy instead of enhancing it. When you are so connected physically it is easy not to look beyond.

That's not to say I would do it differently a second time.

Since New Earth we now have that missing element. I grew to love Chakotay. He showed me his soft, playful side. With the passion out of the way, we were able to concentrate on other things. And against all odds, we became friends. Real friends. Share anything sort of friends. He fell out of love with me in the process though. He fell out of love, but he still loved me.

I don't know exactly when I started to fall in love with him. When I started to fantasize about his lovemaking again. Funnily, I didn't fantasize about our earlier uncontrollable passion, but about that time on New Earth when he told me he loved me. That night had been gentle, tender and worshipful. That night is the one I fantasize about.

I didn't know how he felt about me. I thought he had worked through the gamut of feelings we had for each other, and had settled on "brotherly love". I still might not know what he really felt, if it hadn't been for the Nevzhiri. They were hostile towards us passing through their space and we were on almost constant alert for six days. Nothing terribly major, Voyager could handle them, but they had a way of leaping out from behind an asteroid, firing at us and leaping away again. It put everyone on edge. Everyone was tense, wondering when the next attack would be.

We left their space last night. I was relieved and my tenseness had been out of proportion to the danger. We never really were in too much danger, but something had sent me over the top. Maybe the fact I hadn't taken a day off or even an evening on the holodeck for two months. Maybe it finally was too much coffee. But whatever it was, when Chakotay delivered a report to my ready room this morning, I thanked him and burst into tears.

He was too shocked to react initially. He had never seen me really cry. It must have been the only thing he had never seen me do. Then he recovered himself and came around the desk and took me in his arms, stroking my back and my hair.

I held onto him and unashamedly bawled. If he had asked, I couldn't have told him why I was crying. But between sobs I found myself telling him that I was sorry, I was tense, I loved him, he was my friend, I loved him, could he please get me a coffee, I loved him.

I don't know who was more surprised at what I said. Him or me. He carried on stroking me until my tears dried up, then he lead me to the sofa and sat down, with his arms around me.

"Do you Kathryn?" he said.

"Do I what?"

I think I was hoping that he would ignore my emotional outburst and we could go on as before. I didn't want to have to tell him that yes, I did love him, and I wanted more from him. Because I knew he would gently refuse me and then equally gently be so nice and kind to me as he put me back together again.

"Do you love me?"

I sighed. No way out of this, but I figured I might as well tell him the truth.

"I do, Chakotay, I don't know how or why, after all we've been through together, I don't know why now, but I do love you."

"I love you too you know."

He took my chin in his large hand and turned my face up. He kissed each red and swollen tearstained eyelid, before claiming my lips in a soft kiss that left me shaken. There was so much tenderness in that kiss. I couldn't believe that this was the same man who used to fuck me until I screamed and then leave my quarters doing up his fly five minutes later.

I kissed him back and there was more passion in it, but not the hormone-driven animalistic passion of years ago.

"So what do we do now?" I asked him. I felt he should call the shots on this.

"Dinner tonight?" He looked hopeful.

"Yes. And we'll talk. Things have changed. Maybe..." I tailed off, unwilling to voice what I wanted.

"Maybe what Kathryn?" he said gently.

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe a real relationship, where we do things together, talk to each other, kiss, sleep together at night and make love."

"I'd like to try," he said.

So that is what we are doing tonight. Our first date. We've said we won't rush anything, that we'll take it as it comes. He says he wants what I want. He kissed me thoroughly, so as to leave me in no doubt that he still wants me physically.

So dinner and a kiss or two. We have to see if there is a point at which we can share our lives as we both would like. The crew doesn't know. I hope Voyager can keep this one small secret, at least until Chakotay and I have found out if we really can be together. After that, well, let Voyager's rumor mill do its worst. I wonder how long it will take?

Feedback? Yeah, right. Shayenne