Disclaimer etc: See Part 1
"What news, Doc?"
Chakotay knew he looked rumpled, as if he hadn't slept, which was exactly true. He'd spent the last few hours discussing shield modifications with B'Elanna, debating strategy with Harry should they decide to deviate from their assigned route to hunt down Kashyk and therefore have to evade Devore patrols.
"I have a breakthrough." The Doctor waved in the direction of the biobed. Janeway still lay immobile, the sickbay blanket covering her breasts, creamy shoulders as cold and still as marble, Tom Paris sat at her head. Both hands rested on her shoulders, and he was leaning forward, talking earnestly in her ear.
"Although I can't wake the captain, we can get through to her. I shouted at her to remember she was a Starfleet captain, and there was a break in the engrams overlying her usual brain activity. Each time I did it, there was a blip. Tiny, but significant.
"Although I have no way of knowing if she can hear us on a conscious level, we are getting through to her in some way. I believe we may be able to influence the scenarios she's experiencing." He nodded in Tom's direction. "Mr. Paris here is putting his flapping mouth to good effect. Remember that according to Kashyk, the captain is currently experiencing life as his associate as a Devore Inspector. Mr. Paris is keeping up a credible monologue, reminding her she is a Starfleet captain, Voyager's captain. He is also reminding her of her principles, her morals, everything she holds dear to her heart. Voyager's aim in getting home. The moral decision that stranded us in the Delta Quadrant in the first place."
He paced over to the monitor. "See here, the engrams overlying the captain's usual brain activity are still present, but their range is diminished." He froze the screen and overlaid a second set. "These here were recorded during the first dreaming cycle. There is a noticeable reduction." He tapped a button and a third set appeared on the screen. "This was the recording when I first shouted at the captain. For a brief second, the engrams totally disappeared; as if the shock of being contacted overrode the control. Mr. Paris' more low key attempt isn't overriding it constantly, but it's wearing away at the engrams, much as drips of water wear away at stone."
"Are you calling me a drip?" Tom looked up, but his hands never left Janeway's shoulders, rubbing soothingly over the pale skin.
"Don't stop, Mr. Paris. But yes, I'm comparing you to a drip."
"What if we continued shouting at her?" Chakotay wanted to know.
"It wouldn't work. It was the abruptness of the stimulation that worked the first time. If Mr. Paris was to keep shouting in her ear, she would swiftly become immune to it, much as those who work in engineering fail to notice the hum of the warp core."
"You think we should keep people with her around the clock?"
"Definitely. I have no way of knowing how long this particular scenario will play out for, but when it segues into the final one -- her future life on Voyager-- then we pull out all the stops. Assemble a constant roster of crewmen who mean a lot to her: the senior staff for starters, those she's closest to. They must keep talking, and the more intimately the better. We must get through to her how much she is loved and needed on this ship."
"I'll get onto it. Keep Tom here as long as he can stay awake. He's a good choice. I'll line up a roster to remain with her at all times. And you must call me the second she enters the third scenario. That's our best hope."
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
The buzzing in her head was becoming intolerable and shaking or massaging her temples had long ago ceased to have any effect.
The telepaths were in the brig, ready for transportation to a detention center. They had broken one of the prime laws of Devore- they were people, with a right to live their lives in freedom according to their nature. Devore society was very clear that they posed a grave threat. Inspectors could use any force they deemed necessary to control or eradicate- The Prime Directive forbids interference in a society's laws, but there are times when you knew you had to break it, Kathryn. The Ocampa- The Ocampa (who are the Ocampa?) are telepaths, but their world is outside of Devore space and they have never crossed the boundaries. The Ocampa are people you love. Kes was Ocampan. Kes is a telepath. Telepaths are a threat to the Devore. They undermine the very building blocks of society.
Janeway closed her eyes, her head a jumbled confusion of images and thoughts. When she opened them, Kashyk was there. His black-gloved hand curved around her cheek and he pressed a kiss of unusual tenderness on her mouth. Her lover. Kashyk. Mark? Justin? She had no lover.
"You did well, Kathryn. These lowlifes will be sent away."
She stared at him. "Kiss me properly."
His mouth claimed hers once again, in a fierce dance of possession and lust that swept away the buzzing and confusing thoughts in her mind.
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
"It's working." The Doctor almost crowed. "There's been a 20% reduction in the spectrum of engrams overlaying her brain. Some people--and Mr. Paris here is one of the best--are very successful in getting through to her. There have been several instances when he has produced the same break in the overlay that I first managed."
Tom looked exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair stood in disordered array. "Touching works," he said. "Keep that contact, skin to skin."
"You need rest, Tom," Chakotay ordered. "Seven should be here any moment to take over from you. We need you fresh for when she enters the third stage. Doctor, maybe you could take over until Seven arrives?"
A pained expression flitted over the Doctor's face. "Unfortunately, I am not the best person to ask," he admitted. "It seems the touch factor is absent when I talk to her; she can't recognize my holographic touch."
Before Chakotay could answer, the sickbay doors swooped open and Seven strutted in. "Give me your orders," she stated, "and I will comply."
As Chakotay left, heading back for the bridge, he saw Seven, looking as uncomfortable as he'd ever seen her, putting her hands on the captain's naked shoulders.
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
The summons from sickbay came midway through the next morning's Senior Staff meeting.
"She's in the flat stage between scenarios," said the Doctor. "I need the first person here immediately."
B'Elanna stood. "I'm on my way."
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
"You gave me a chance, Captain, when everyone else had given up on me. Everyone except Chakotay that is. But you, a Starfleet captain, believed in me. That means a lot to me. I hope I can tell you that to your face one day. Well, one day when you're awake, maybe I'll have the courage to tell you."
Janeway shook her head bemusedly. B'Elanna's engineering report was as factual as ever-- she could still hear the engineer's voice in her head. But the words weren't the same as what was written on the PADD. She studied it again. Warp core efficiency was down 0.47%; B'Elanna was blaming the poor quality of the last batch of deuterium.
I'm the happiest I've ever been, and it's because of you. We need you here, Captain. This ship is full of people who care for you, respect you, admire you, and love you.
Her forehead wrinkled. What exactly was it that Neelix was putting in her coffee these days?
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
"People with passion," the EMH had said grandly, sweeping a hand out for emphasis. "People who care. Tell her. Show her. Touch her. Now is not the time for reticence. You must tell her how important she is to you. It's our best chance of breaking through the control of the Shau."
The doctor's gaze had lingered particularly long on Chakotay. "Will she remember what is said to her?" he asked, his eyes firmly on the PADD in his hand.
"I don't know," the doctor admitted. "But don't let that limit your words. If you do, they may forever remain unsaid if she leaves with the Devore."
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
"I am not a man of passion," Tuvok had said, "but as much as any Vulcan can, I care for the captain. I consider her my friend. I wish to try."
Chakotay sat in the doctor's office, observing through the glass. The urge to gather Kathryn up in his arms was strong, but his turn would come. Right now, it was important to have as many of those who were close to her try. After all, as the Doc admitted, they didn't know who would get through to her, or what would be the most successful approach.
"Consider Mr. Paris," he'd said. "He was phenomenal! The engramatic overlay is still decreased since his efforts."
Tom was sleeping, but Chakotay knew that he would be ready to resume when he awoke.
Right now, he watched Tuvok. He maintained a respectable distance to give Tuvok privacy to say what was in his heart, but he had to smile. Tuvok had a Vulcan's stiffness with physical touch, and although his dark hands rested on Janeway's shoulders, consciously or unconsciously, his fingers were splayed in the traditional pattern for mind meld.
Chakotay avoided thinking about what he would say to Kathryn when his turn came. The doctor had worked out the order of people, alternating them so that differences in personality and the relationship they held with the captain were layered. Chakotay would take his turn later.
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
Tuvok stood at parade rest, his chin uplifted, as he took a breath and launched into another stanza.
Janeway yawned; Vulcan poetry was never short, but this seemed interminable. And it seldom contained anything worth listening to. Dry descriptions of the moonrise over the sands of Vulcan. Philosophies of the Vulcan masters, interwoven with each other, layer upon layer of subtlety that only a Vulcan could appreciate. She glanced around the crowded holodeck. Talent night was always popular and people usually gave enthusiastic support to any act, however bad. But now, only Vorik appeared to be paying even the most cursory attention.
Few people are of import in my life;
To have importance you must care.
Feel concern. These are emotions; they are not the Vulcan way.
Yet, you, Kathryn Janeway, hold a place in my being.
You are important to me.
I value your friendship.
I respect your opinions.
I take quiet pleasure in your company.
If I were human, I would say that I care for you.
I would say that I love you.
But I am Vulcan, so these things I do not say.
But know that you have influence on my life.
That is all I will say.
I am Vulcan.
Janeway cast a startled glance around the room, but no one else appeared to be registering Tuvok's words. Chell had his eyes closed and his chin propped on his hand. Tom and B'Elanna conversed in low voices at another table. Harry fingered the keys on his clarinet, no doubt preparing for his turn. No one seemed to have noticed that Tuvok's words were... unusual.
She frowned; something was definitely out of place these days. As if the edge of reality had slipped a little, revealing a tear in the fabric. Blurred. Maybe it was the hum of the ship's engines. She really must talk to B'Elanna about it. The engines had a constant buzzing quality these days.
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
"I won't be scared," Naomi said emphatically. "I know the captain is only sleeping, and I have to tell her how much I like her so that she'll want to wake up again."
Got it in one.
Chakotay smiled down at the captain's assistant. "That's it. And because it's important that some one talks to the captain all the time, your mom will be there too, in case you run out of things to say."
"I won't."
Clutching Flotter to her chest, Naomi slid off the sickbay stool and went over to where Harry was sitting at Janeway's head, his hands on her shoulders. Harry raised a questioning eyebrow at Chakotay, and then at his nod moved away so that Naomi could take his place.
Gingerly, Naomi put her small hands on Janeway's head. "I always thought you had pretty hair, Captain," she said. "You should wear it like this more often. It looks real nice. Me and Flotter miss you. We want you to come and visit the Enchanted Forest again with us. You're my favoritest person to play with--well, apart from Mom and Neelix, of course. And I know the Borg Lady won't get me, with you here to keep me safe.
"My mom says you're the person who keeps us all safe on Voyager. So if you go away there'll be no one to keep us safe, and then I'll be scared that the Borg lady will call her friends and they'll come and assimilate us..."
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
Tom Paris could be a real thorn in her side.
Smart-assed, wisecracking, devil-may-care ne'er-do-well. He wrote the worst reports of the Senior Staff, and had the worst punctuality record of any of the bridge crew. But he could always make her smile. Tom certainly lightened the journey home.
But sometimes.... sometimes he looked at her and she saw a wiseness, a maturity, and yes, a longing in his eyes. And then, for brief moments she'd wish that the age gap between them wasn't a dozen years chronologically and thrice that in maturity. And she'd wish that she were free to choose a lover from among the crew, that she wasn't doomed to remain some shriveled up sexless spinster for the remaining sixty or so years of their journey.
But, her cards had fallen where they had, and Tom Paris would only ever be the best damn pilot she'd ever known, a wisecracking annoyance some of the time, and a lighthearted blessing the rest of it. And sometimes a perceptive and welcomed friend.
He stood now in her ready room, ostensibly handing her a report. And something definitely wasn't right. His good-looking blond features were blurred, as if seen underwater and his mouth was moving out of sync with his words, like a bad holovid.
He handed her the PADD and their fingers brushed briefly.
"You know, Captain, I remember when I was fifteen and you were a new ensign. You came to our house to report to my dad, and right there, right then, I fell in love. You were beautiful; hell, you still are. More so now. I think that a beautiful woman mellows, and her features shine with character as she ages. Back then, your hair was shorter, and it swung around your shoulders like a copper penny. You had these cute little freckles over the bridge of your nose. You don't have them now; I guess you had them erased, but I loved them. I would have given anything, done absolutely anything for you, if you'd only asked. I guess I still would.
"I'm not the only crewman who'd die for you. I know Harry would. Hell, he'd be leading the charge, his eyes wide and scared, but determined. B'Elanna too, although she'll never admit it. Tuvok would call sacrificing his life to save yours 'logical' but really, he'd do it because in his Vulcan way he loves you.
"And Chakotay. You'd have to be blind not to know how the big man feels. And you're not blind, are you captain? You know how much he loves you."
Tom nodded, and took back the PADD. Somehow, she'd placed her thumbprint on it. When? And Tom kept talking, and it was making no sense, but it was making every sense. If only she could clear this fog in her brain. If only she could determine what was wrong.
"Right now, Captain, this is a sort of heaven. I'm touching you. I don't know if you know that, but my hands are on your skin, on your shoulders, and it's as close to a caress as I'll ever get. Your skin is just as soft and beautiful as I've imagined."
Her skin? Bemusedly, she touched her shoulder, felt the smoothness of her uniform. And Tom stood on the far side of the desk, still talking.
"Oh, don't worry; this is Doc's orders, and he's glaring at me from the glass in his office. I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't want anyway. Besides, there's B'Elanna, and I do love her. Guess I've got you to thank for that too, huh?
"Looks like it's the big guy's turn now. Doc's waving me over. I think I can call you Kathryn when I have my hands on your skin. Come back to us, Kathryn. Please."
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
"Engrammatic overlay is now down 40% in total. I believe that she can almost certainly hear some of what people are saying to her. Maybe not all, and it's almost certainly out of context to the hallucinations, but she is registering." He turned to Chakotay. "You're on stage, Commander."
Chakotay nodded, and prepared to step out of the office to relieve Tom, but the Doc stopped him a hand on his arm.
"Commander, I don't need to tell you how important this is. You are her closest friend on board, you know her better than anyone, even Lieutenant Tuvok. If you have any way, any way at all, of reaching her, you have to try." His eyes snapped. "Even if it's something you've left unsaid up until now. Do you understand me?"
Chakotay strove to maintain a neutral expression. "Yes, Doc."
"I estimate there's maybe two hours left before she will wake. Make those moments count. If we fail, this will be the last time you have with her."
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
Her table was laid for a working dinner. She'd programmed the replicator with a simple Mexican dish, and the wine was decorked to breathe. The PADDs they needed to review were in a neat stack on the coffee table for later.
Chakotay entered. He was in uniform as was usual for these dinners; not quite professional, not quite dinner with a friend. Loneliness gripped her. Another sixty years of this, she thought. How can I stand it?
Chakotay moved to place his own pile of PADDs next to hers on the coffee table.
"Wine?" she asked, her hand already reaching for a glass.
"Please," he answered, but instead of waiting for her to bring him a glass, he moved to stand near her. She could feel his uneven breath on her cheek as she poured.
"Here." She turned quickly, and he was too close. The wine shook in the glass, nearly spilling over the rim.
Chakotay smiled. "You started on that bottle before I arrived!"
She smiled, sidestepped him, and turned to the replicator, programming the final command.
After they'd served themselves, she asked, "Now, what's all this about Mortimer Harren and Billy Telfer wanting to share quarters?"
He reached over and touched her cheek, and his dark eyes held an intensity she hadn't seen for a long while. "Kathryn, my strong warrior woman. My proud beautiful Kathryn. Do you know that you hold my heart? In the last forty hours, you've had many people telling you how much they love and need you. I don't know if you know that, I don't know if you realize how much the crew cares. Maybe you didn't hear the words, but I feel that on some level you understood the emotion. Doc says you did.
"And now it's my turn. You'll wake up soon, and you'll have a choice to make. May the spirits guide you to the right one. The right one for the crew, the ship, for you, and for me."
His words fell like stones in a pond, piercing through the fog in her mind. She frowned, sifting through the meaning, reconciling them with the actions of the man who sat opposite her, casually forking up beans and rice. His demeanor was at total odds with his words.
Kathryn struggled. Something wasn't right. She focused on Chakotay's face. He was her rock; he would help her understand.
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
"Whatever you're saying, it's the right thing!" The Doctor appeared at Chakotay's shoulder. "The engrammatic overlay has dropped another 10%"
Chakotay lifted his eyes to meet the Doc's.
"I'm only telling her the truth."
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
"It's time for the truth, Kathryn. No more pretending it doesn't exist. No more 'ancient legends'. It wasn't a real legend anyway, we both knew that. I was afraid to tell you I loved you then on New Earth because if you'd rejected me then, there was nowhere for me to go. And I've respected your unspoken wish that we don't mention it now because of the ship and the crew. But, I have to tell you the truth. Doctor's orders.
"I love you, Kathryn, and I think you love me. Love is the force that drives the universe, makes us human, gives us a reason to get up every day. Different kinds of love: altruistic love, wanting to make the universe a better place, to help people. Love for your crew, even people like Mortimer Harren. Love for Voyager; she's inanimate, but you love her anyway--what she represents, what she makes possible. Love for your friends: Tuvok, Paris, B'Elanna, Seven. And love for your partner, your lover, your soul mate. Is that me? I think it is, Kathryn.
"I don't know what other scenarios you were shown. Kashyk was very confident you would choose his scene over Voyager. But I know you, and I know what's important to you. Whatever he showed you, I don't believe it can compete with love.
"I love you, Kathryn. Maybe you'll wake up and you won't remember this. Or maybe you will. I accept that maybe you still think that nothing can change, but you'll know how I feel. And if it makes you more comfortable, you can pretend you don't remember. I won't bring it up. But when you are ready, you can come to me and I'll be there for you, and you can take whatever part of my love you're comfortable with."
Once, Kathryn had gone cave diving. And somewhere down in the freezing waters of a low-roofed tunnel, she'd lost her way and her sense of direction. The water had been murky, full of floating vegetation and it had been impossible to see. She remembered well the panicky feeling of claustrophobia, the knowledge that there was a way out, if only she could see it, if only she could find her way. And then, as the gray fog of panic settled in, her friend had noticed her missing and had returned for her. Grasping her hand, he'd led her out of the narrow tunnel and back up to the sunlight.
Kathryn reached across the table and grasped Chakotay's hands and let him lead her back to reality.
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
"Doc!" Chakotay's voice was hoarse from talking, but there was no need. The Doc was already there, tricorder in hand.
"She's waking up."
Janeway's breathing changed, growing faster, shallower. Her eyelids fluttered and then opened.
"Chakotay." Her voice was rusty with disuse, and when she lifted a hand, it fell back limply.
"Relax, Captain. You're going to be fine." The doctor pressed a hypospray to her neck.
With visible effort, she turned her head and her eyes met Chakotay's. A small frown creased between her eyes.
"I don't know..."
Her uncertainty tore at his heartstrings, but he had to be sure.
"Kathryn, you're on Voyager. Is this where you want to be?"
Her hand groped blindly for his, and she clung hard. "You mean there's a better place in this universe? If there is, I don't know of it."
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
"Congratulations, Commander." Kashyk's expression reeked of insincerity. "I don't know how you did it, but we are bound by the rules of the Shau. Kathryn chose Voyager's mundane routine over a life of worth at my side. I trust she has recovered?"
Chakotay nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Kathryn had recovered, but at what cost? He felt drained, raw and exposed from speaking his heart. He could only imagine how she felt.
"I am a man of honor," Kashyk continued. "Voyager may proceed out of Devore space. It is a long way back to the Alpha Quadrant; I hope you are successful."
"We will be." Her husky voice was unexpected.
Chakotay didn't allow himself to turn and look, but his heart leaped in his chest at the sound of her voice.
Kathryn moved to the front of the bridge, and rested a hand on Tom's shoulder. "I thank you for your concern, Inspector, but we won't trouble you any more. Please believe me when I say that Devore space is not high on our list of possible shore leave destinations."
Kashyk's mouth twisted. "If you say so, Kathryn. I, however, will always think of the possibilities that might have been between us."
From where he sat, Chakotay saw the faint rose blush that stained her cheeks.
"We clear the boundaries of your space in a couple of hours. Rest assured we will not trouble you again."
"A pity, Kathryn. A great shame. I hope you will sometimes think of what we might have been."
~ ^ ~ ^ ~
Chakotay paced in his quarters, eyes barely registering the flickering lights of shining stars processing outside his viewport. Dinner with Kathryn; the first one they'd shared since she had undergone the Shau.
His fingers twitched on the replicator controls. Their working relationship was unchanged. But their personal one... that was an uneasy circling.
The Doctor had said to him privately that Kathryn had only hazy memories of what was said to her while unconscious. Snippets. Blurred impressions. Nothing concrete. Nothing to be embarrassed about, the Doctor implied, in a rare burst of subtlety.
Chakotay didn't know whether to be glad or sorry.
But he thanked the spirits daily that Kathryn hadn't remained with the Devore. He knew he should ask her about the experience, if only in case she wanted to talk it through. Who better to share it with than her best friend?
The door chime interrupted his thoughts and Kathryn entered, carrying a bottle of wine. She was in civvies, a soft pantsuit that skimmed her slight curves and gave her a delicate, ethereal look. Her hair hung in loose waves to her shoulders.
She handed him the bottle with a small smile, and he made the appropriate noises of pleasure and found a corkscrew. It wasn't until they were both settled on his couch, having mutually agreed that dinner could wait a while, and the obligatory catch-up for ship's business was out of the way, that Kathryn brought up her recent experience.
"You know, Chakotay, I have a lot of people to thank." She kept her eyes on the rich ruby wine in her glass, swirling it around in absent fashion. "I've read the Doctor's report, and I know what many of the crew did for me."
He nodded, over the pounding of his heart. He wasn't sure he was ready for this to come into the open, indeed, if that was her intent.
"Of course, I like to think that I would have chosen to stay on Voyager anyway." She raised her eyes to his and gave him a half smile. "I mean, me. Would I really have chosen a life as a Devore inspector over this?" The wave of her hand encompassed not only his quarters, but the whole ship.
"Kashyk seemed pretty confident you would." He hesitated, then plunged ahead. "We only had what information he fed us, but I'm guessing that he skewed the scenarios somewhat. As you say, anyone who knew anything about Kathryn Janeway would know that nothing could win out over Voyager."
Her lips twisted and she took a sip of wine. "I had three scenes. The first was a fairly pleasant ordinary scene that could have been any one of a dozen evenings with Justin - my first fiancé."
He nodded, tacitly encouraging her to continue.
"But the second scenario… well." She took a deep breath. "I honestly can't say that he twisted the scenario in any way. It could - maybe - have been something… I mean, it had a sort of dark appeal…" She raised her eyes and looked him squarely in the face. "It was compelling, Chakotay. A twisted power game. Yet, if I'm honest, it tugged at me. He could read parts of my character that I thought I'd buried so deeply that they would never surface again. I'm not proud of that."
His hand reached out to touch hers, but her stillness made him hesitate.
"And yes, I was attracted to Kashyk and him to me. But nothing like that happened between us. Not in the real world." Her eyes took a distant tint, as if she were parsecs away in Devore space. "But even so, I still think I would have made the right choice."
He wanted to ask if at the time she was aware of their interference in the Shau, but to do so might open a path he wasn't sure he wanted to tread.
"But about halfway through that dream, things changed. Tom's words got through to me." She smiled. "I think I'm greatly indebted to Tom Paris."
"He cares for you, Kathryn. He refused to give up. The Doc had to order him to rest."
"Yes. Tom's… devotion was unexpected."
The emphasis she placed on the sentence was unsettling.
"You know what he said?"
"Some. More the emotions he stirred, the timbre of his voice, if not his words. But I felt I was sensing the meaning behind what he said, even if I don't recollect the actual words."
"How very Betazoid of you."
She smiled. "Yes, that's exactly it." She sipped her wine. "I know that Naomi was there, Harry, Seven, Tuvok, B'Elanna, Neelix. And a couple of people I would never have guessed how they felt if it weren't for the Shau: Tal Celes, for example. And you."
His fingers clenched. "I'm sure my devotion to you is an open secret on this ship," he said lightly. "Haven't you called me the perfect first officer?"
"I have," she agreed. "Often. And the Shau is another example of it."
He touched her hand gently. "I had to do whatever I could to ensure you chose Voyager, Kathryn."
"Is that what it was?" She seemed to be picking her words carefully. "Did the Doctor tell you what to say? What might best make me stay?"
"Not exactly." He studied her, trying to figure out how she wanted him to respond to this. Was she trying to skate over what he'd said, burying the words under the gloss of his Perfect First Officer cloak? Her expression was unfathomable. "He told me to say whatever I could, he didn't give me a script."
"I'm glad to hear it." She buried her nose in the large wineglass. "Well, thank you. Your words did make a difference. They were the-" Abruptly she silenced.
His stomach plummeted. "Kathryn, I thought you said you only sensed the emotions, not the words?"
Finally she looked him full in the face. "I said I sensed the emotions from Tom. But that was earlier. The longer people talked to me, the more I heard. Words at first. Sentences. But you were the final person, Chakotay, and the engrammatic overlay was greatly decreased." She took a deep breath. "I know exactly what you said."
He searched her face, trying to read her feelings. Was she bringing this up so that they could bury it deeply again, never to mention it? Or was she wanting him to say that he'd only said what he felt would make a difference, that it wasn't what was in his heart? Her shuttered expression made him think the latter.
"I had to try any avenue. I'm very glad it seems I picked one that worked."
"So it was your Perfect First Officer role again, is that what you're telling me?"
"Isn't that what you want to hear?" Spirits, this was hard! He'd make a lousy Betazoid.
Her glass shattered against the far wall, and the wine made a deep stain down the wall. "No, dammit! Tell me the truth, Chakotay, even if it rips my heart out. If it was a bunch of lies, tell me. If the Doctor stood over you feeding you lines, tell me." She moved closer to him and placed both hands on his thighs. Their small weight burned, even through the uniform pants. "And if it was the truth, then tell me that most of all."
His anger roused as quickly as hers. "Why? So that you can tell me sweetly that you appreciate it, but I'll only be a friend? Or your Perfect First Officer? Sorry, Kathryn, I'm not laying my heart out again for you to trample on."
Her hands gripped his thighs painfully. "You know your problem, Chakotay? You're too damn considerate. For once, just once, say what you really feel!"
She was beautiful, her hair disordered, and her lips shining wet from the wine. It seemed the time for measured, rational words was past; Chakotay took a shuddering breath. If he was going to break their friendship with his next words, he might as well do it in style. Setting his glass down carefully, he hauled her to him by the upper arms and his mouth settled firmly on hers. Her breath exhaled in a surprised puff.
He kissed her firmly, holding her to him so fiercely that she couldn't squirm away if that was her intent. His mouth bore down, insistently opening her lips so his tongue could slip inside. His heartbeat thundered loudly in his head, and a crimson haze filled his vision. Hell, if he was going to be shoved away then he'd make it memorable first.
As the kiss went on, moving slowly from a fierce plunder to drugging, drowning passion, Chakotay realized that far from pushing him away her hands were moving up his thighs. He stood, dragging her up with him, still grasping her upper arms, so that she was forced up on tiptoes. Her body pressed to his, hard nubs of nipples sweet pinpoint of pleasure against his chest, her hips melting and softening, swaying into his belly, scorching his erection. Freed from his thighs, she now wrapped her hands one on each side of his face, gripping him so tightly that his skin stretched underneath the pressure of her hands.
His cock swelled further, so hard he felt the shape of it would be forever imprinted in her belly. Their tongues dueled, lazily fighting for supremacy, the red wine that they had been drinking a fruity rich taste overlaying that of Kathryn.
Gripping her around the waist, he pulled her higher on his body in one swift movement. Her feet left the ground and she wrapped her legs around his waist, a movement that spread her thighs, grinding her hot core onto his cock. Even through the layers of clothing, he swore he could feel her wetness.
He lifted his mouth to stare down into her eyes, heavy-lidded with their passion. "This is what I really feel," he murmured. "This is what I want, and every word I said to you when you were under the Shau was true." He lowered his head again, so that his mouth settled on the rapid pulse in her neck. "Every, single, word."
"I hoped it was." Her words drifted over him. Her hands eased their death-grip on his face, turning to a slow smoothing of his skin.
Slowly, she slid down his body, so that she was standing again, and her fingers drifted to his uniform top and she started to tug at it.
He smiled; Kathryn Janeway, so efficient in everything she did, was fumble-fingered with his clothes. But his amusement dissipated with every throb of his cock. And when she finally reached his skin, his gasp was torn from him like his uniform top.
The urgency was back. Her small hands ripped what they couldn't undo, his turtleneck gave under her tugging, baring his chest to her gaze. And then she turned her attention lower, and the feel of her fingers moving at the waistband of his pants nearly had him shooting his load at the thought of what she was doing, how close her hand was to his cock.
It seemed an eternity before she managed the button, lowered the zipper and his briefs, and freed his aching erection. Small hands palmed its length, working his foreskin up and down the head, one finger pressing into the slit where moisture leaked uncontrollably.
The pressure built, inexorably, until he knew that if she didn't stop-soon, now-it would be too late. He grasped her hand to still the motion, but she distracted him with a kiss so hot and deep that his hand fell limply to his side. And then he was coming, hard jerks that drew his balls up tightly to his body as his cock exploded in fierce white pulses. His seed spurted, spilling down over her hand.
"Sorry," he gasped, the intense pleasure of the moment muted by slight embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I couldn't-"
And once again, she fitted her mouth to his, with a lazy, sloppy kiss, as if they were finishing their lovemaking instead of just beginning. As if he were already softening inside her, instead of yet to know what she felt like surrounding him.
His frantic pulse slowed, muted down to a steady thrum. Her hand still held his softening cock, but it was a tender clasp. Now was her time.
Quickly, he shed the remainder of his clothes, then he pushed her back onto the couch, his hands moving firmly to the clasps of her pantsuit. She offered no resistance, lifting her hips to aid in the slide of pants and underwear down her legs, raising her arms so he could unclasp her bra with ease. When she was naked in front of him, she scooted back on the couch, raising a leg so that her glistening sex was fully exposed to him, dark red curls wet and waiting.
His gaze swept hungrily down her body; pale breasts topped with shell-pink nipples, flat stomach and indented waist leading down to boyishly slim hips. And her sex. He could smell her arousal, it curled out into the warm air, a musky womanly smell.
Chakotay's hands went to her breasts, his mouth trailing a path down her neck to suckle a pink nipple. So glorious to be able to touch her like this, freely, wantonly, without restraint.
Kathryn wasn't shy; her hands directed his head, holding his mouth over her breast, and she wriggled underneath him until he was settled between her parted thighs. His cock, still soft, pushed gently at her sex. When her nipple was rigid and pointing, wet with his saliva, he moved on, trailing his lips down her belly, shifting down her body until this time his mouth was between her legs. Her scent overwhelmed him at these close quarters, warm and womanly, and he lowered his mouth to taste.
At the first touch of his tongue, Kathryn's body bucked and shuddered, her strong thighs closing briefly on his head. Worried that he was somehow hurting her, he backed off, but fierce hands tugged him back into place. Her taste overwhelmed him, strong and salty, and he added a finger, using her hums and small breathy gasps as his guide to pleasuring her. It didn't take long; when he added a second and third finger, pistoning hard into her clasping sex, and her hips lifted, pushing her sex firmly onto his mouth.
Even after she'd come, he stayed in place, shifting his hips to accommodate his renewed erection. He lapped her juices, swirling his fingers around in her wetness. But once again, Kathryn wasn't shy in showing him what she wanted.
Strong hands tugged at his hair. "Please, Chakotay," she said huskily, "I want you inside me."
He moved up her body, aware of his weight and how he could crush her. His cock bobbed along her thigh, until it nestled between her parted legs. A small movement of his hips and the tip pushed inside her, into all that clasping, wet heat. She tilted her hips and suddenly he was all the way in, and the wonder of it nearly made him blow his load there and then, without any further movement.
Her hands grasped his butt, urging him into action. Trembling, he started to thrust, and his tentative gentle movements built in speed and intensity until he was slamming into her so hard that her body shook with every thrust. Dimly he was aware she was convulsing around him, her sex spasming hard around him, and then he was coming, hard and deep inside her.
His mouth against her neck, he murmured the words he couldn't say earlier in the evening. Words of love and passion, warmth and tenderness, words of forever and never long enough.
Kathryn stroked his hair, her own answering words falling softly on his ears. And when his body relaxed and his weight was too heavy for her, she slid out from underneath him, tugged him to his feet and, as if she'd been sleeping with him for years, led him to his bed and slid in alongside him, settling herself into his side.
"I suppose I should thank Kashyk," she murmured sleepily. "If it weren't for the Shau, who knows how long it would have taken us to reach this point."
He stroked her hair back from her face so he could see her eyes. "I'm not sure I could thank him. If he'd succeeded, you'd be his associate and lover by now, lost to Voyager forever."
"I don't think it would have come to that. I hope not. But it goes to show we don't know ourselves as others see us."
"Obviously. Kashyk believed a dull scenario of your life on Voyager would be enough to send you to him."
"I guess from his point of view, his life was far more exciting than ours. And throw in a dark and devilishly handsome consort into the mix…" She pinched his side mischievously. "Well, who could resist?"
He pretended affront. "Him or me?"
Her smile curved against his skin. "Who do you think?"
He sighed into her hair, and his grip tightened on her body. "Well when you put it like that…. I'll send Kashyk a thank you note via subspace tomorrow."
(((FIN)))
Feedback? Please. Shayenne
© Shayenne, January 2007 Please email me to post/distribute elsewhere.