Disclaimer: All characters belong to Paramount, except for Martis, who belongs to Cassatt. The order of the words belongs to us.
Rated R
Feedback? Please. Cassatt and Shayenne
Kathryn punched buttons absently, only part of her mind on the power relays she was attempting to realign. Life is good. The refrain ran through her head, she chanted it like a mantra when her thoughts strayed, and they were wandering only too often this morning.
Was she really the captain of a starship? She snorted softly to herself - how totally improbable was that? And could her mind really have been wiped without her suspecting something? She could remember her mother, her dog... but why didn't she remember exactly what she used to work at on Earth? Why couldn't she recollect previous lovers? --her body told her Jaffen wasn't the first. How did she hear about Quarra, so far away from Earth?
Life is good. Life is good...
She glanced over to the other side of the room, where she could just make out the top of Jaffen's head. He was worried about her, she knew. And he had seemed very distracted over breakfast, his eyes seemingly locked on some distant point. But he had kissed her goodbye as usual, his lips moving persuasively over hers, hugging her close before they left for their shifts at the plant.
"Damn." Kathryn swore as the relay she was working on sparked and fused. She really would have to pay more attention; she didn't want the efficiency monitor, Marla Gilmore, coming down on her again. But the task was fiddly, and required all her attention. She glanced around, guiltily, to see if Ms. Gilmore had noticed. She was not in sight, but the dark man, Tuvok, was. The one who Martis had said was one of her most trusted staff members.
He didn't appear very trustworthy right now. His movements were jerky, uncoordinated, as if he was having trouble making his body understand him. Slowly, as if in a waking dream, Kathryn put down the relay coupler and approached him. Tuvok. She tested his name in her mind, striving to see if it sparked off any memory, any recollections. But there was nothing.
As she got nearer, she could hear what he was saying. "This is all a plot," he was saying in almost conversational tones, "I'm not who you think I am. You are all, every one of you, transplanted from somewhere else, and like any transplanted vine you will whither away." Suddenly he grinned, a wide surprisingly white smile that split his dark face. Impatiently, he shook off the restraining hands of one of the shift controllers. "No. I am not sick. I do not need to go to the medical facility."
His clipped voice held the edge of hysteria. Kathryn drew closer -- if nothing else, they might need help restraining him, his flailing arms were threatening the console banks.
"Kathryn." Tuvok's dark eyes fixed on her, incisive, clear. Not the eyes of a madman, that she was sure.
A flurry of movement, and she found herself pinned to the console banks by his body. His hand was burrowing in her hair, running over her face until his fingers splayed out, pressing firmly on her face; forehead, cheekbone, chin. His fingers were hot and dry, as if the compulsion within him was running like a charge through his body. Instinctively she fought him, he was too close, pushing her too hard, something was digging into her back and the closeness of him was unnerving. A flicker of panic and she twisted hard, trying to break his strange hold.
And then the images started.
A starship, sleek and small, hanging amid a myriad of unfamiliar stars, as she approached, traveling in a shuttle. Dark hands on the controls, quirky controls, all bulbous knobs and old-fashioned chrome. Then, the man from last night, Chakotay, in a red and black uniform, laughing and relaxed in the next seat. The starship coming closer, shuttle bay doors opening. The cavernous shuttle bay, and a woman approaching. Herself, pleased to see the return of the shuttle and her crew. Wearing the same red and black as Chakotay. Four pips on her collar. Linking her arm through Tuvok's, her pale hand touching his dark one in welcome. A joke with Chakotay.
And then with disorienting suddenness a battle scene, heavy weariness in Tuvok's mind as he repetitively repowered weaponry, brought shields back on line. Other people -- a young Asian man, dark hair flopping over his forehead. A woman, B'Elanna, she noticed with a sudden shock, the woman who had disappeared. And she was in a similar uniform, gold and black, a different insignia on her collar, shouting at the engines, screaming at the warp core.
Another scene, dark hands again, calmly spooning Plomeek soup, which didn't taste as it should, but the face of the spotted alien in front of him-her-Tuvok-Kathryn smiled a joyous grin when reassured it was just perfect. And Martis, holding hands over a table nearby with a dark man, solemn and intense. And she, Kathryn, was there with them; sharing an unsmiling comment, a battered mug in her hand, then a touch to his shoulder and she moved away.
Kathryn slumped back against the console, images flashing through her mind, random patterns and pictures, but all of the same starship. Voyager she knew with a bone deep certainty. This was Voyager and she belonged there, with Tuvok, with Chakotay, with B'Elanna and the others.
Abruptly, the fingers were pulled from her face and the images ceased in mid scene. She was breathing shallowly, rapid gasps for air, as if the air was somehow insufficient, too thin.
Security had Tuvok. They were restraining him, pushing him towards the door, making soothing noises about the medical facility. As he was propelled out the door, she saw his eyes one last time. His lips moved, mouthed the word. "Captain."
Ms. Gilmore approached ."Are you injured?" she asked. "I can release you from your shift to be seen at the infirmary."
"No." Kathryn's answer was swift and instinctive. "I'm fine. He didn't hurt me at all. Didn't do anything really. Just let me have a moment."
The blue eyes studied her. "A check up would be advisable."
Kathryn summoned a smile. "It's unnecessary, really, but thank you. If I could just sit down for a few minutes, I'm sure I'll be fine - I was at a critical point in my work.
Her supervisor nodded once. "I'll need you to make a report of the incident later."
Kathryn collected a mug of coffee and sat down in a quiet corner of the break room. The strange experience had coalesced one thing in her mind; she was from Voyager. As were others from here, but her own memories of the ship still eluded her. Try as she might, she couldn't remember her layout, the messhall, those long curved corridors that ran through the memory Tuvok had given her. And was she the captain?
No. She wasn't. Was she?
Chakotay was doing his best to stay relaxed, waiting for Martis to return. It had been two hours since she'd left for work. He paced. He sat. He looked out the window. Visions of her in labor, in the hands of these people, nearly clouded his judgment. Staying relaxed was giving way to a sole attempt to stay, period.
There was a knock at the door. He went to it, and tried to hear who was on the other side. Martis had the code, so did Kathryn. The knock was repeated. Muffled voices were heard, and then there was the sound of movement against the door. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he turned quickly, making a run for the bedroom.
An ear-splitting phaser noise came from behind him, followed by a crash, and loud voices called out. He was told to stop. He didn't. They chased him into the room, and tackled him as he made one last dash for the window, and pulled his arms roughly behind his back. They crowed over him triumphantly and he could do nothing to release their hold. He felt a pop under his skin as one of the men clutched his forearm, trying to pull him to his feet. His subdermal transponder, one part of his brain said. He thrashed, and was kicked for it.
He was carried out of the apartment, still struggling uselessly. Other parts of his mind were firing. Martis. Voyager. The crew. Kathryn. Tom...
Lying on the deck of engineering, B'Elanna threw down the spanner and let out a very satisfying string of Klingon curses.
"Hey," said Tom, standing over her, "you're not supposed to swear on the job."
"Targ," she replied heatedly. "It's the advantage of being alone in here. The only advantage," she muttered.
"I resent that. I'm helping, I can't help it if I'm not exactly the best engineer on this ship. You fix, I fly. Besides, I'm not going to sit around and think about Chak in that infirmary, getting his brain fried," he spat out. "Having to wait for the captain to contact Harry. This sucks. Now - tell me what to do."
Her stomach heaved. "Oh fuck, help me up, quick," she managed to say.
Tom grabbed her by the armpits and lifted her, and she breathed deeply as the wave of nausea passed. "Better?" he asked gently.
"Barely. You want to know what you can do? You can go remove the Doc's subvocal processor 28.567 for one. Imagine him saying this morning sickness will just pass..." She took another deep breath.
"Which one is 28.567? Opera?"
"Yup. Tell him it will just pass. And then tell me why you think having a child is so great. You're not the one who had to go through this!"
Tom grinned and she stopped herself from hitting him. "Because I wouldn't have traded my life with Martis for anything in the universe, 'Lanna, and you know that. Even if I am about to be a grandfather at thirty-nine." The grin faded, and he huffed loudly. "And I'm coming this close to taking a shuttle down to the planet with a full set of phaser rifles to get Chak, Martis, the captain, and anyone else I can find the hell out of there..."
"I'll be your co-pilot," she answered vehemently, "'cause I'll be damned if I end up a single mother like my mother was. Kenneth had better be prepared to change his full share of diapers, and walk the baby to sleep, and get off shift to do child care. Period. Or I'll remove his organs one by one." She felt tears beginning again and swore as they rolled down her cheeks.
"Oh, don't do that, for pete's sake. He'll make such a great father."
"You think? He'd better. That's all I have to say." But she knew the tone of her voice had changed, letting her overwhelming longing for Ken be heard. She couldn't help herself. Still, her vow was strong and sure. Her baby was going to have a full-time father. Period.
Chakotay watched, strapped to a medical bed, as a young doctor worked on Tuvok. The Vulcan was strapped down as well, and the doctor seemed to be having some difficulties understanding why the treatment was not working on his patient as it did on others. Chakotay could have told him, if he'd been asked.
He turned his head and made eye contact with Martis, also strapped down. He struggled futilely against his restraints in pure parental fury, then gave up. Martis was mouthing something to him, that he couldn't quite make out.
Then the doctor left, and they were alone.
"He's a good guy, Tayo," she hissed. "But he has doubts about this syndrome, about the other doctor - Kadan. Kadan is the one who devised the serum. This doctor is about to do something permanent to Tuvok's brain. We have to stop him."
Before he could respond, the door swooshed open again and the man returned.
"Excuse me," Chakotay said with a calm he didn't feel, "may I speak with you for a minute?"
The young man narrowed his eyes as he approached the bed. "You were brought in by the Security Force, I'm not authorized to answer any of your questions."
Chakotay forced a smile on his face. "I understand. But I can explain why you're unable to treat Mr. Tuvok, if you're interested."
"You are not a doctor."
"No, I'm not, but I knew Tuvok, before he arrived on your planet. I know which planet he's from, and how his brain functions. It is not like other species' - but I gather you're already aware of that." He prayed the man's curiosity would make him take the bait. "Can I ask you what your name is?"
"I'm Dr. Ravoc," the man replied, crossing his arms. "All right. Tell me what you know of Mr. Tuvok."
"He's from a planet called Vulcan. His race believes in the power of the logical mind to control the emotions. They undergo extensive training while growing up, to achieve mastery over their emotions. So Tuvok's brain has a different series of wave patterns, and shows unusual activity in areas of the brain where deductive reasoning originates. Your treatments to remove his memories don't work, because they can't overcome his Vulcan training." He waited, watching Dr. Ravoc's face.
"My treatment is not designed to affect his memories," Ravoc insisted.
"Then why does Mr. Tuvok insist that he remembers things - when he's repeatedly told he doesn't?" He'd clearly heard Tuvok's rantings as he was being tied down, and no matter what was going on in this doctor's head, Chakotay didn't take him for a fool. "Did you see a difference in his brain scans?"
"Yes, but why should I believe you? You're nobody but a prisoner." Ravoc turned from the bed.
"Because," Martis called out quickly, "Tuvok was taken from his ship. Against his will. So was I. This man is my father, and he proved it to me. I'm telepathic, Ocampan, and even though you've removed my memories, I can still read minds. He let me read his. I saw myself on the ship, I saw Tuvok, I saw him. I can prove it to you, too. Please. Let me show you."
"There is very little empirical evidence to prove telepathy," Ravoc said, "according to our medical knowledge."
Martis made a noise of disbelief, and Chakotay almost laughed. If he hadn't been strapped down, fighting for his life, he would have. His daughter had the balls of her father, and the courage of her mother.
"That's absurd," she stated. "You may not have evidence, but then I suppose you've never had contact with a telepathic race, or if you have, their minds have been so scrambled by Dr. Kadan's treatment, they wouldn't know they're telepathic. Let me demonstrate for you." She took a deep breath. "You were standing over Tuvok, wondering why the treatment wasn't working. You've been having doubts about Dr. Kadan's theory of dysphoria syndrome, and in the last few days your doubts have been growing. Mr. Tuvok has been in every day, and nothing lasts. You'd confront Kadan, but he holds a fair amount of power with some officials in the government. You were also feeling guilty for taking a longer break than you should have this morning, but you wanted to call your girlfriend. You two have a date for tonight, then you're hoping you can bring her back to your apartment because you bought a new bottle of..."
He interrupted her, with a slightly shaky hand. "Goodness," he said.
Chakotay jumped in. He gave the doctor his real name, and rank, and explained what had happened to the crew. How he had come to the planet undercover after his failed attempts to get help from the Quarren government. How they didn't believe him, either. "I needed to find my crew. I can give you the names of say, ten people from my ship. If you check their dates of arrival, you'll see they're all the same. I could give you over one hundred forty names if you'd like. I know them all, believe me. And since I just arrived yesterday, I wouldn't have had time to find them, much less ask them for their arrival dates."
Dr. Ravoc studied him for nearly a minute, then he studied Martis. Chakotay could almost feel her desperately trying to send him a thought, or a picture - another futile gesture, but an understandable one. Eventually, Ravoc asked him for the names, but of twenty people. Chakotay gave them to him, and included some he hadn't seen around the Central Power Facility, like Greg, and Noah, hoping they were somewhere far away where it would have been even more unlikely he'd have run into them. Ravoc left.
"Well, Tayo - do you think it worked?" Martis's eyes were bright.
"I hope so, honey, I hope so." Chakotay tried to make his voice as optimistic as he could, but he was honestly feeling close to despair. They'd been in the infirmary for hours, so by his guess it had to be nearly the end of another day shift, if not early evening. He was desperate for information. Where was Kathryn? Was she going to help them tonight? What was happening on board? He growled in frustration, and this time, it was Martis who soothed him. Calmed him. Reminded him who he was, and how much faith she had in him. He accepted it all with love.
The power plant dominated the room even with the drapes closed. Kathryn could see the faint edge of its illumination creeping around the gap between frame and drape, a slight glow through the thin covering. Not long ago it had seemed safe, reassuring, a place where she was needed. Now its luminescence seemed more sinister.
She curled herself closer to the warm body next to her. Jaffen held her lightly, one hand absently playing finger patterns on her skin. She could hear the steady thud of his heart under his rougher skin. He had said he loved her, she loved him, and love was based on trust. So why was she reluctant to share her new knowledge with him? Now she should tell him, now as she lay with him, his spend wet on her thighs, her body still thrumming a double-time rhythm from his lovemaking. Now was the time to tell.
When she raised her head to look at him, she found he was already observing her. And his face was shuttered, secrets hidden behind his closed gaze and the firm twist of his lips.
"I've got something to tell you." Her heart rate increased, pounding an erratic beat.
He was silent for a moment, then, "And I've got something to tell you. You first."
She moved away from him slightly; she wanted to watch him as she spoke, and thought it might be easier if she wasn't touching him. It would be easier to shatter all that they had if she couldn't feel his flesh, feel the warmth and laughter of him, the aliveness of the man she loved.
His face didn't change as she related what she had seen through Tuvok's unsettling touch. It could have been as fixed and immobile as the false formed mask that Chakotay had worn to disguise his identity.
"So you do believe you're from Voyager?" There was no inflection in his voice, as if he was already shoring up the battered defenses of his heart.
"I do. And I'm going to help them disable the shield grid. There are over one hundred of her crew here, Jaffen. I have to help them get their lives back."
"And you? Will you get your life back too?" He was watching her closely, but his withdrawal was palpable.
"I guess." She sighed, her ambivalence of her place in Tuvok's mental images still wasn't right. She wished she knew.
Jaffen propped himself up on an elbow. "Kathryn, please listen to me. I've done something you won't like. It seemed the right thing at the time, but now..." He ran a hand through his graying hair, a distracted gesture that tugged at her heart. "Now, you've told me what you believe, and well... "
She touched his thigh, absently rubbing the sparse hairs. "Tell me, love."
"I told the authorities about Chakotay and Martis. Where to find them. What they were saying."
Her hand fell away from his leg.
"If I said I did it because I love you and I was worried about you, would that make a difference?" His eyes were steady, but sad. "I can't take it back, I wish I could. I thought I was going to lose you."
Her mind ran through the paradoxes of love, but kept settling on the one thing in her life that was steady, Jaffen's love, as immutable as stone. He had only done what he thought was right, and it was costing him a lot to admit his mistake. It might even cost him her. Even now his face was closing, turning in on himself, preparing to lose her to Voyager.
She touched his face gently, whispering over his cheek to settle on his lips. "It's okay, love," she murmured. "You did what seemed right at the time." She moved closer to him again, settling herself against his chest. "I'm scared too." The tremor in her voice took her by surprise. "I love you. I don't want to lose you, but I can't see a way out of this now that will let me have both -- you and my real life."
He hugged her to him, his hand curving possessively over her hip. "I love you," he reaffirmed. "And I'll help you. It can't undo what I did, but maybe we can set some other lives to right."
Her mouth curved up at one side. "Well, you can help me now. Right now is the perfect time to disable the shield grid."
"I'll stand by you."
If only, she thought. If only he would stay with her. If only it were that simple.
The shield grid was no match for Kathryn Janeway. She felt a perverse satisfaction when it fell -- the klutz who talked to her workstation and fused power relays in the plant by day had disabled the entire defense system with only a little ingenuity.
"It's done," she whispered to Jaffen, who was pressed against the wall, standing guard. "Now I just have to contact the ship."
Swiftly she opened a channel, frowning slightly as she entered in the unfamiliar codes Chakotay had given her. The channel was answered immediately, the screen in front of her filled with the image of a young dark man. She tried to put a name to him, but he was only familiar from the mental pictures Tuvok had shown her.
"Captain Janeway," the young man said. His grin was genuine, wide and sincere. "Oh boy, we're pleased to see you."
Captain. That word again. She swallowed against the lump in her throat. She didn't want to be captain. "Please, sir." Her mind stubbornly refused to come up with a name for him, although an image of the two of them, alone on a lush green planet, flickered briefly in the corner of her mind before fading like starlight. "Please, call me Kathryn."
Harry paused. "Kathryn, it's good to see you. You've been sorely missed."
Missed? These people had missed her. For the first time, she wondered if there was someone in particular whom had missed her. A lover? A husband. This good-looking young man even?
She swallowed hard. So many repercussions to be faced. "The shield grid's down. You can rescue your people now."
"I'm on it. Stand by for transport, Kathryn." The screen flickered as the link was cut.
Dr. Ravoc looked at the list of names that Amal Kotay had given him. The twentieth name had the same date as the first, as had every one in between. He'd double checked it. He also noticed that of the twenty, ten were listed as being from the planet called Earth. The ten not from Earth, were from planets he had never heard of either. Fifteen were listed as "human" - a designation that was not in their knowledge base, that Kadan had translated for him weeks before. The other five were also of races he was unfamiliar with. Ktarian, Bolian, Vulcan, Bajoran.
He had lied to the young woman, Martis. He was familiar with her designation - Ocampan. Or half-Ocampan. One of his teachers had traveled extensively, and had told him tales of a race of people who lived an existence entirely underground. Who were said to be telepathic. He had believed it to be nothing but myth. The rantings of a man whom people called 'a little off.'
He'd promised Dr. Kadan that he would take care of the situation with these three people, and the older man was due to return from his dinner shortly. Ravoc wrote up his findings, and his suspicions, and sent the information to someone that he knew, at a higher level in the government than those working with Kadan. A friend of his from school. Someone he trusted. He was now convinced that what Amal Kotay, or Commander Chakotay, had said was the truth. His heart sickened at the thought. How many people had Kadan and his group ripped from their rightful lives? How many people had died away from their homes, and loved ones?
He was preparing a treatment of his own to be administered to Kadan, just a little something to put him under, when the response came from his friend. He'd been believed. The man was on his way to discuss the situation with the head of the Council.
Ravoc stood, putting the injection in his pocket. He left for Kadan's office. To wait. His supervisor was not going to get his hands on Mr. Tuvok, or the other two.
"It's done." Kathryn's voice was steady. "The crew are being transported back to the ship as we speak."
Jaffen stood facing her. He seemed defeated, a blanket of sadness cloaked him. "Kathryn, when will I see you again?"
"I'm not going anywhere." Her mind reeled even as she said the words. But of course, she would be beamed up too, along with the rest of the... her crew. "Jaffen..."
And her words disappeared into the tingle of the transporter beam. She reached out, tried to touch him, to take him with her to her new life, but her hands closed on empty air.
She materialized on the ship, stumbling slightly as she looked around her. "Jaffen! Where is he?" She looked wildly around the room, before her gaze fell on the same dark man as she'd seen on the viewscreen. His expression was sympathetic.
"Send me back, I didn't tell him..." She broke off as he shook his head.
"I can't," he said. "They are working to re-erect the shield grid even now. It's too risky, we might not get you out again. I'm sorry, Captain."
So this was home, thought Kathryn, letting herself be escorted to sickbay. With all her being, she wished she were back on Quarra, safe in Jaffen's arms.
Ravoc met the Security Force his friend had sent, and told them Kadan was 'subdued' enough to be taken into custody. He raced down the corridor, intent on telling the people from Voyager they would be returned to their ship. He opened the door to the infirmary. The room was empty.
Chakotay sat in Kathryn's ready room, on the couch, rather than behind the desk. When Kathryn was declared fit for duty, he wanted her to find everything much as she had left it. In his hand was the Doctor's latest PADD, with the updates on the crew's rehabilitation. The captain, of course, had been the first priority, then those of the crew with medical training. Right now, there was only the Doctor, Samantha, Noah and James to try and rehabilitate nearly one hunded and forty people.
Chakotay wondered if he was glad or sorry he was so busy. The task of getting this ship back into some sort of order was work he'd accepted, though the details could, actually, have been left for an hour. If he was hiding behind them, well then, he thought, so be it. The confrontation with Tom was inevitable, but he'd do anything to put it off. Just a little bit longer. The more distraction he could find, the less he'd feel the deep, aching pit in his chest.
The Doctor's hurried update was promising. It seemed most of the crew would bounce back pretty quickly. There were a few-- especially those who had formed relationships down on Quarra, on a couple of occasions with someone other than their Voyager partner -- who would find it harder. Not for the first time, Chakotay wished they had a counselor on board. It was his defacto role most of the time, but right now... Chakotay pinched the bridge of his nose where the headache threatened. Right now, the counselor needed counseling himself. He still didn't know what he was going to say to Tom. He just didn't know where to start.
The Doctor's PADD indicated he was worried specifically about a few people; Pablo Baytart, Tal Celes, Naomi - who had been given a "new" family down on Quarra and was finding it hard to accept that she had two mothers who she loved. The girl was being kept in sick bay, under the pretense that she needed more care, just so Sam could spend as much time with her as possible. And then there was Kathryn.
The captain, said the Doctor's PADD, in his normal dry, understated language, appeared to be finding the transition back to the ship harder than expected. Understandable. She had found someone to love, and had fallen hard and fast. She was withdrawn, subdued, and listless. 'Fragile' was not a word Chakotay normally associated with Kathryn Janeway, but right now there was a shell-like veneer to her, as if one harsh word would shatter her. The Doctor's report concluded with some unwarranted observations on the Captain's love life -- or lack of -- for the past seven years, and her extreme vulnerability in that regard which had made her fall for an unsuitable alien.
Chakotay snorted. From what he had seen of Jaffen, the man was not "unsuitable". On the contrary, he appeared personable, warm, open and friendly, and he and Kathryn had somehow looked right together. Comfortable.
His musings were interrupted by the door chime, and Harry entered.
"Got a moment?" The ensign seated himself on the couch without being asked. "I want to talk to you about a friend of ours."
"Which one?" Chakotay hefted the Doctor's PADD in his hand. "It seems some are finding it harder to come to terms with the mindwipe than others."
"Yeah," Harry fiddled with an edge of the couch, where the material was starting to fray.
It had seen seven years of hard use, this couch. No wonder it was starting to show the strain. Like the captain.
"I want to talk about Kathryn." Harry's jaw was set in a determined way that Chakotay hadn't often seen. Harry loved unconditionally, and was a staunch defender of his friends, but most of them were well able to look after themselves. "I'm worried about her."
"So's the doc. So am I. I think she's finding it hard to understand how she could throw away all of her goals, her fierce determination to get this crew home, for something as selfish as falling in love. Even if she was brainwashed at the time."
"Yeah. But why can't she have both? Many of us have partners, lovers, spouses on board. Why not the captain? Jaffen could..."
"It's not that simple, Harry." Chakotay interrupted. "Kathryn doesn't like to be too comfortable in life. She doesn't want to be distracted from her goal. She's a very single-minded woman. And maybe Jaffen doesn't want to come with us."
"But we could let her know it's all right to ask him." Harry leaned forward, his eyes intent on Chakotay's face as he made his point. "We could talk to her. Let her see it's okay to love someone. Hell," he ran his hands through his flopping hair. "She did that for me once. Let me know it was all right to be with Greg."
Chakotay grinned. "Then you're the one to talk to her. Go now, she'll need time to think it over. She won't ask him without a lot of thought. But," and his voice sobered, "if she asks him, and he says no, then we'll need to be there for her."
"We will," Harry said with conviction. "After all, she's always stood by us."
Kathryn looked around her quarters. The captain's quarters. They seemed strange to her, sterile and unfamiliar, a world away from her apartment on Quarra - her and Jaffen's apartment, where they had loved so tenderly. Where she had been so falsely happy.
The Doctor had tried to explain it to her, but his psychobabble had washed over her head. She didn't need him to tell her how vulnerable she was to love. Seven years alone is a long time, and the Doctor's pontificating about the empty nature of casual sex had irritated her. She knew that it wasn't ideal, but she didn't have a choice. For her, as captain of Voyager, it was casual sex on shore leave or nothing. Until Jaffen.
But her relationship with Jaffen had been so false. Kathryn Janeway hadn't fallen in love with him, someone who looked like her had. Because Kathryn Janeway would never be happy mindlessly realigning plasma relays, would never give up the power and satisfaction of captaining a starship for love, would never behave so... vapidly.
It may have been false, but it felt real. The love was real, at the time. Her body and heart ached a little. It was strange not having Jaffen here, joking with her, holding her. Loving her.
The doorchime rang, startling her out of her musings. The Doctor, no doubt, coming to check up on her. She ran both hands over her cheeks, startled by the dampness. Still, he would no doubt put her teary state down to the aftereffects of the mindwipe.
"Come in."
Harry entered, a bottle of wine in one hand, a covered plate in the other. He smiled, the gentle Harry-smile she didn't see too often. Her friend's smile, not that of Ensign Kim at Ops.
"The Doctor told me he'd released you from sickbay, so I thought you might like some company. And some food."
"Company yes, the food, I don't know." She tried to smile, but it wobbled a little.
"Then share a drink with me." He indicated the bottle of wine. "Greg's in sickbay, the Doctor won't let me see him yet, but he tells me he'll be fine." He looked around then spied the wine glasses. "It's been a long time since we've really talked, Kathryn. I have a feeling that you'd like someone to talk to. Maybe a shoulder."
"Did the Doctor put you up to this?" she asked suspiciously. "Or Chakotay?"
He sat on the couch, deftly twisting out the cork and pouring two glasses of wine. "They're worried about you. We all are."
"No need, I'm fine," she said automatically.
He handed her a glass. "A toast. To Voyager, her crew, and her captain. Health, Home and Happiness."
She clinked glasses and sipped, feeling the wine burn an acid pathway down to her stomach. How long since she'd eaten? She couldn't remember, she'd recycled the food the doctor had brought her in sickbay, the thought of it alone made her heave. "And now, no doubt, you're going to lecture me too?"
"No." Harry put his glass down, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close to his side. "I'm going to talk to you as a friend, and maybe between us, we can find a way for the captain to have a little more joy in her life."
She blinked back sudden foolish tears. "I don't need any more," she said. "I have everything and everyone I want. My priority is to get this ship home, I can't be distracted from that."
"Love isn't a distraction." Harry squeezed her shoulder slightly. "Look at Tom, Chakotay, B'Elanna. Do you think they want to get home less because they happen to be in love? They're as single-minded in that regard as they ever were."
"They don't have the ultimate responsibility..." she began, but Harry cut her off.
"Maybe not, but the ones they do have weigh pretty heavily on them. But they have room for love in their life, and you do too."
She levered herself away from him, and said with a twist of irony, "Is that a proposition, Ensign?"
"You had your chance to proposition me on New Earth," he said, the smile evident in his voice. "But you stayed my friend and comforted me when I thought I'd never see Greg again. Later, you helped me see that I could be with Greg -- marry him -- and still have a Starfleet career. Now it's my turn."
"I see you've heard the story about the kindly alien and the foolish captain who believed herself in love with him."
"I don't know about 'believed'," he said, "but from what I hear you were happier than anyone's seen you in a long time. Relaxed. In love. Were loved. Don't you think you owe it to yourself to see if those feelings are real? They may have brainwashed you, but you were still Kathryn Janeway. I think maybe just certain other elements of your personality surfaced -- they didn't make a new one for you. Some part of you loved Jaffen. Give him a chance. There's a place here on board for him. B'Elanna will welcome a good engineer with open arms. Especially with the baby on the way."
"Yes, the baby." Another life, another responsibility.
"Ask him to stay, Kathryn."
"It's not that simple." She moved away from him, took another sip of wine. It burned as fiercely as the first one had. "Jaffen fell in love with Kathryn, a rather klutzy, easily pleased, trying hard to be domesticated woman. Someone to come home to everyday. Someone who was always there for him, in his bed, in his life. He didn't fall in love with a starship captain who has too many responsibilities and too little time. He won't want half my attention, if he even gets that much. He deserves more than someone who will come into bed too tired to make love, and too tired to talk. And..." she hestiated a brief moment, then the quiet admission. "I don't know if I love him now, in this skin."
Again he interrupted her. "But you're hurting over him now, you obviously feel something. And as for Jaffen - you don't know what he wants. Until you ask him."
She was silent, weighing his words. He made it sound so easy. Just ask and he's yours.
"And if he says no?"
"Then at least you know. And you won't be any worse off than you are now."
Chakotay made sure he was in the transporter room when Jaffen beamed on board. He'd heard from Harry that Kathryn was wavering, and he wanted to sound the man out himself. He couldn't help but feel protective of his captain and friend, and if there was any chance that she could be happy with Jaffen, then he wanted to encourage the relationship.
The shimmer of the transporter alerted him to Jaffen's arrival. He stood on the pad, looking around him, a bulky bag in one hand.
"Welcome to Voyager," Chakotay smiled, holding out his hand in greeting. "We know each other, but I don't believe we've formally met."
Jaffen grasped his hand. "We haven't. I'm pleased to meet you, Chakotay. Your name and your ship have been rather in my thoughts of late."
"Kathryn's in her quarters," said Chakotay. "I'll show you the way."
He led the way out the door, conscious of Jaffen's keen observation of all that he passed, but the man was quiet. No unnecessary conversation.
As the turbolift took them up to deck two, Jaffen turned to him. "Would you mind," he asked, "if I had a private word with you before I speak to Kathryn?" His tone was diffident, but Chakotay sensed that whatever he wanted to say was important.
"Computer, halt lift. Will here do, or would you rather go to my quarters?"
"Here is fine." Now that Jaffen had his attention, he seemed unsure where to begin.
"Is it about Kathryn?" Chakotay prompted him, when the silence grew too long.
"In a way. Well, yes. I love her, Chakotay. I don't care whether she's a powerhouse worker, or a high-flying captain. I love her, Kathryn, the woman. I've been happier with her the last couple of weeks then I ever can remember. And I think I made her happy too.
"I think so too." Chakotay voiced the words to give the other man encouragement, but he wanted him to tell his own tale. He couldn't put the words in Jaffen's mouth.
"I'm not ready to give up on her, on us. So, where she goes I want to follow. I'm asking you if you have a position for a competent engineer on your crew. I went to Quarra for a better life. I thought I had it, but now, I want more. I want Kathryn, and if that takes me to the Alpha Quadrant, then that's where I'll go -- if you'll have me."
Chakotay was reassured by the expression on his face. The man was nervous, that was obvious, but then his future happiness was hanging the balance. And his sincerity, and his love for Kathryn, were obvious. But he had to ask.
"What if she won't see you in a romantic light, what then? Will you want to stay on board when she rejects you?"
Jaffen's jaw firmed. "I don't care how long it takes. I won't let her reject me. Oh, don't get me wrong, Chakotay, I would never force myself on her -- love is worthless if it isn't freely given. But I truly believe I'm the right man for her. So you see, I won't give up, I'll stay on board, whatever it takes." His chin lifted. "I know you love her as a friend, I was hoping you would give me your blessing."
Chakotay was silent. Recent memories ran through his head, himself and Martis strapped down on the biobeds, seconds away from being mindwiped. Jaffen had turned them in, or so the reports filtering through indicated.
"I'm sorry for alerting the authorities as to your whereabouts," Jaffen said quietly. "I know now --I knew then -- it was wrong. I was just trying to protect the woman I love."
Chakotay grinned. "Let me tell you one thing about Captain Janeway," he said. "She doesn't want anyone's protection. Those of us that care for her watch over her very carefully -- and very secretively. She'd be horrified if she knew how many people are fiercely protective of her. So, if you're staying, you've got a tough job ahead of you. I hope you're up to it."
"You agree to my staying?"
"I agree. Actually, I was hoping you would ask all along. But you still need her approval. If she doesn't want you to stay, then there's nothing anyone can do about it. After all," he threw a conspiratorial arm around Jaffen's shoulders, "she's the captain."
"Thanks. And I hope we can be friends. Tell me, your daughter, Martis. Is she all right?"
"She's fine. Due to have her baby any day now. And Jaffen, she won't blame you. She'll understand, maybe more than most."
"I hope other people can be as forgiving."
"Very few people need to know. Me, Tom, Harry, Martis. And we've all been in love to the point where we'd do anything to protect the one we care about. If it makes you feel better, I nearly jeopardized the whole rescue mission by pulling Tom off the planet too early. I just wanted to get him away from there." The involuntary clench of his stomach muscles reminded him of the things left unsaid, unfinished with Tom. He swallowed against the resurgence of his earlier anger. Now was not the time. Right now, he was concentrating on Jaffen, on Kathryn. Tom would have to wait.
Jaffen nodded. "I appreciate you telling me that. If I could make amends, I would."
"If you bring Kathryn some happiness that's more than enough. Now, she's probably worn the carpet down to the deck plating pacing around waiting for you. Good luck."
She decided to trust her instincts. In her seven years as captain, Kathryn had come to rely on them, and although this was a personal matter, she trusted they would hold true. Harry's words had made her think, and she knew that if it was just for Kathryn then she would be asking him how he felt about joining along with them on their journey. But there was more than just Kathryn in her skin.
The chime sounded, and Jaffen entered, a bulky bag in hand.
She found she didn't know what to do; she couldn't kiss him as the lover he no longer was, but a handshake was definitely wrong. She wanted to touch him so badly she could taste it. Oh yes, Kathryn still wanted this man.
He hefted the bag awkwardly. "I brought your collection of fused power relays. But it doesn't look like you need them for decoration; these quarters are very nice." His mouth twisted slightly. "Nicer than what we had on Quarra."
"Not nicer, just different," she whispered. She was the captain, she made difficult decisions, why wasn't this one easier?
The silence stretched between them. Jaffen was looking around her quarters. "I'm trying to see your life here," he said. "Find out if there's a place for me in it."
"What are you saying?"
"I talked to Chakotay in the lift. He says Voyager can always use a good engineer."
"What about Quarra?"
"They offered me a promotion, seems a lot of their best workers left in a hurry. But I don't want it."
He moved closer, close enough to touch, if only she reached out a hand. "I'd rather be here, with you. I came to Quarra for a better life, and now a 'better life' is one with you in it. "
"Are you asking me to make you a member of my crew?"
"I don't think so. I was thinking more of a civilian consultant. That way there won't be any rules stopping me fraternizing with the captain."
"I don't know, Jaffen," she said quietly. "You want to get back to the way we were on Quarra. I don't know if I can do that."
"We loved each other on Quarra." His eyes were kind. "I still love you and I think maybe you'll come to love me again."
She blinked back sudden tears. "You don't know me. How can you love me?"
He closed the space between them, a step at a time, then reached out and touched her hair, her face. She closed her eyes, reliving his touch during lovemaking, willing herself not to sway towards him as she wanted to do.
"I know your soul." His fingers traced a line down her neck, down to between her breasts and he settled his palm over her chest. "I know your heart." His hand curled around and cupped her breast. "And I know your body."
"But you don't know the captain. You have no idea what it can be like -- I'll be in danger, we all will. Some of us won't make it back. And I'm the one who has to give the orders, make the final call, the ultimate responsibility. There's times when I'm too tired to sleep, and times when I don't see my quarters for days on end. How can you live with someone like that? How can you love them?"
"I think that's my decision to make." His hands moved soothingly over her shoulders, rubbing around over her back.
She wanted to lay her head on his chest, let him hold her, promise to stay with her.
He continued, "and it sounds like the captain could use a friend, someone to care for her, a lover maybe."
"I don't know if I can give you that. I've never had a lover on board. It's... complicated."
"I understand. All I'm asking is that you let me stay, join the ship as a civilian engineer. And let me be your friend. And then, if you find you still love me..." The warm promise in his eyes finished the sentence.
"And what if I can't be your lover? What if we try and it doesn't work?" The words came out of her mouth, even as she hoped his vision would come true. The captain may not love this man, but Kathryn wanted the chance to find out.
"We'll work that out if we come to it. Kathryn, look at me." His fingers cupped her chin, turning her face up to his.
When her eyes met his, he bent, touching her lips with his. The kiss was lingering, sweet, warm and gentle. The echoes of their passion were there, igniting in her belly as his lips moved persuasively on hers, but when the kiss reached the point when one of them would have to take it forward into something more, or stop, he moved away.
"That's a reminder, love," he said. "And a promise of what we'll share, when you're ready."
She moved away and tapped her comm badge, paging Chakotay.
"Commander, what single quarters are available? Jaffen will be joining the ship as a civilian engineer." Somehow she knew that Chakotay wouldn't be surprised.
She led him along the corridors to his new home, steadfastly ignoring the speculative glances from the crew she passed. Her instincts were telling her it would work, that she could allow herself this, but the captain's logic was telling her to take it slowly.
Time would tell.
Harry practically ran through the corridor on deck four the minute he stepped off the 'lift. The crew members he greeted smiled at him as if they knew exactly why, and likely they did. He didn't care. There was only one need he had at that moment, and the person who could fill it was behind the door of his cabin. Their cabin.
The door swooshed open, and Harry's eyes landed directly, squarely on him as Greg whirled around. Harry ran full out, jumping into Greg's open embrace, crying and laughing with him, holding on as tightly as he could, being held by the arms he'd longed to feel. Smelling the man. Feeling his muscles. Kissing his neck, and his cheek, and anything else he could reach while not letting go.
"Oh, shit, Har...," Greg groaned in his ear. "I've remembered everything. You must have been going crazy. Shit..."
Greg set him on the deck, sliding one hand up his back to cup his neck. He quickly dropped his head and kissed him, hard, then more softly, moving across his lips like no one but Greg. No one. Harry sighed into it, then deepened it, pulling Greg further and further down, both of them moaning, and panting, and tasting, and wrapping themselves up in each other.
Harry was ready to tear off the big man's clothing, when Greg stopped the kisses.
"Harry - listen -- I have to tell you something."
Those deep, piercing eyes were the most beautiful things Harry had seen in weeks. It was all he could concentrate on.
"Harry."
He focused. "What?"
Greg cupped his face. "I need to tell you something."
Harry's heartbeat took off. No, oh, fuck, no, don't tell me you were involved with someone down there, please... He waited.
"There was nobody. Nobody on that horrible planet. I was single, and content to stay single. I was asked out, but I never wanted to go. Nobody ever appealed to me..."
At some point during Greg's words, Harry lost complete control. He was crying freely, the overwhelming relief of it all had simply unraveled him. He fell back into Greg's arms, letting his husband hold him, and kiss him, and lead him to their bedroom.
"I love you, Greg," he said, as his clothes were being removed.
"I know, Harry, and I guess I always knew. Somewhere, there was a man I loved. A man who held the ship together, and brought us all home." Greg ripped off his own clothes. "I love you. I've missed you."
Greg took his hand and led Harry to their bed, pulling them both down, bringing them together with a resonant sigh that was swallowed down both throats as they kissed, again, deeply, ever more deeply, skin to skin.
B'Elanna paced her quarters, trying desperately to stay calm. If for no other reason than the fact that the more upset she got, the more she wanted to throw up. She hit her chest.
"Torres to sick bay. Doctor!"
"Yes, lieutenant. I've informed you that crewman Dalby is being released momentarily..."
She interrupted him brusquely. "Define 'momentarily'. Now!"
"Momentarily in this particular instance can be defined as within approximately twenty-six seconds. Is that sufficient?"
"Need I remind you that sarcasm, in this particular instance, is not recommended?! Unless you wish some adjustments to your subroutines. I'd be happy to accept that challenge, Doctor." She walked to the replicator and hit her rapid interface for chamomile tea, shuddering.
"I will endeavor to forget this conversation, and merely accept it as coming from a woman under the influence of a Klingon hormonal imbalance. But for your information, Mr. Dalby has just left sick bay. His memories have been completely restored. I've found that the treatment is working far more efficiently due to the..."
She cut him off with a growl. "Thank you, Doctor. Torres out." Her tea materialized and she stared ruefully at it before removing it from the machine. She returned to the couch and took a sip. Two minutes at the most, she figured, and Ken would be coming through that door. Her heart was starting to dance around in her chest. She set the tea down and wiped her hands on her thighs. Then, without warning, the door swooshed open, and he was standing there. His eyes burned into hers.
She jumped up, and against her will, she started to cry. Ken moved, and she moved, and they came straight into each other's arms, embracing so tightly, her stomach was starting to rebel.
"B'Elanna," Ken said, over and over, against her neck.
Oh, Kah'les, he still loves me... Until that moment, she hadn't even realized she'd worried otherwise. She was overwhelmed. "I've missed you so much, Ken, but there's something I have to tell you. Now. Before..."
He tensed, and pulled back enough to look directly at her. His eyes narrowed. "Were you with someone?! Down there?! Tell me!"
Tears came again so fast she didn't have time to do anything to stop them. His face softened instantly and she wanted to punch him.
"Love, I'm sorry, really," he said, stroking her face. "I didn't mean to yell. But I'm just going fucking crazy at the thought that you found someone else. I can't stand it!"
"P'takh," she said, still crying copiously, "you think I'd do that? How could I do that to you? To us? To our baby?" She covered her face, hating that she was so out of control, and weak in the face of him. The love she was feeling for this man was so profound, she just couldn't seem to deal with it.
"You're pregnant?! Oh, my God," he breathed.
He yanked her fiercely to his chest, holding her tightly again, and she cried even harder. She clutched him, and buried her face in his neck, inhaling everything that was uniquely him as she cried, letting go, finally, completely. He rocked her, and caressed her, until gradually, the tears stopped.
"Oh, God, 'Lanna, this is the most wonderful thing. Thank you," he said quietly. "Thank you so much. I don't know how else to say it. I love you. And now I'm doubly blessed. God, I never thought I could have all of this in my life. Not after everything... I love you..."
She heard the words, and closed her eyes, and let the feel of him surrounding her, touch the place in her heart that she'd saved for him. Him alone. He wanted to be a father. She'd already known it, but to hear him so astonished, and moved by it, by their child, affected her deeply. "I love you, Ken," she said, softly, reverently. He would be with her. Stand by her. Love her. And their child. She had no doubts.
He cupped her head and moved it off his chest. They locked eyes intensely. He wiped her cheeks dry of tears, dipped his head and kissed her. She had no doubts.
Chakotay walked the corridor of deck five quickly. His heart was thudding, hard, against his ribs, the bones close to aching. Like the organ was. It was time. As his captain would say, crunch time. He prayed to the Spirits of his ancestors that he was not about to get his heart completely crushed, mangled, and stomped on. How much worse would it be to know what his husband had done with other men, rather than see the images playing out behind his eyelids every hour? He wasn't sure. Likely a whole helluva lot worse. But now that Kathryn was squared away, and Jaffen was on board, it was time.
He hit the chime to his daughter's quarters, and the door opened almost immediately. The tableau in front of his eyes would normally make his chest swell with love and pride. Martis was curled up with Noah on the couch, talking animatedly with the man Chakotay had come to drag off. Tom met his eyes, and Chakotay's heart caught. It was really Tom this time, he could see it, and feel it, and he almost fell completely into it.
Tom arose quickly and came to him, wrapping himself around him tightly, sighing deeply. He held him, too, feeling his throat constrict. "Oh, Chak... God, I've missed you," Tom whispered into his ear.
He pulled back deliberately, and only allowed a glance into that blue, afraid of any more, or he'd fall apart completely. He smiled briefly at the man, then went to the couch, leaning over and kissing Martis on the cheek.
"You doing okay, honey?" he asked her.
"Much better, Tayo." She smiled, but he could hear the wheels in her head begin to spin.
He turned quickly to Noah and shook his hand. "How about you? Everything back to normal? I'm glad the Doctor gave you a break. I hear you'll have some stories to tell us about the outlands."
Noah shook his head and chuckled. "Nothing very exciting. Greg and Ken and I played a lot of cards. Some game I'd just as soon forget. It's very good to be home. Thank you for rescuing us." He squeezed Martis' shoulder.
He smiled, and even he knew it was forced. "You're welcome. Martis here deserves much of the credit. Now - you two relax. Noah, you know you're off duty until beta tomorrow, that is unless labor starts?" Noah nodded. "Good." He turned to his daughter. "Sleep well, sweetness. I love you," he added gently.
She studied him. "You, too. Let Da take care of you, okay? You need to rest."
"I will," he managed to say, grateful that it only sounded slightly thick, as a lump was forming in his throat. He stood, turned, and looked at the man in question. Tom appeared confused, and slightly hurt. "Come on, Tom, let's go home."
They said their good-nights to the expectant parents, and left. Chakotay walked quickly, ignoring the man at his side as much as he could. Afraid to do anything else.
Once inside their cabin, Tom grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're treating me like I'm barely being tolerated." His voice cracked. "What's the problem? I haven't even seen you since you came back on board, and I've been going nuts worrying about you for two days..." He stopped, and bit his lip, cheeks flushed, breathing hard.
Chakotay snapped. "What the hell is wrong with me? How dare you ask me that?! I'm not the one who was fucking every man who walked into the fucking bar down there!!"
Tom's eyes got very wide, and his cheeks got even redder. "What the FUCK are you talking about?! I did no such thing!"
"No such thing?! Remember who you're talking to, Tom -- the very hot stranger that you accosted in the back room! How far would you have taken things with me, huh? A total STRANGER?" He couldn't look at him any longer. He stalked to the dining table and grabbed the back of a chair, fighting the urge to pick it up and throw it. He gripped it hard and tried to breathe.
"Shit," Tom muttered.
Chakotay heard and felt him approach, and tensed. Tom laid a hand on his shoulder and he shook him off. "Don't touch me," he ordered.
Tom took a deep breath, and Chakotay clearly caught the shakiness of it. His heart hurt, but he held onto his resolve. He knew he'd have to calm down, or they'd never work anything out. But, he was ashamed to admit, he didn't feel capable of it.
"How many, Tom? How many men did you fuck?" He forced the words out of his throat.
"If I tell you what happened, will you promise to listen?" Tom asked quietly. "Really listen to me? Believe me? You know I can never lie to you. I love you..." His voice faltered and he took another breath. "I love you too much to lie to you. Ever."
He turned slowly and looked at him. Those incredible blue eyes that he adored so were glistening. Tom's arms were folded tightly, as if he were holding himself up. The hard shield Chakotay was keeping around his heart cracked. Just a bit. He nodded.
Tom didn't move, and if anything, his breathing appeared shallower. "It's true, there were many men I took into that back room," he said slowly. "But I never, ever fucked any of them, or let any of them fuck me. I was searching, that's the only word I can think of to describe how I was feeling, what I was thinking about. I was searching. For you. I kept looking for someone with your eyes. I had these eyes in my head, dark, dark eyes that could pull me in, and hold me. Make me feel safe." Tears spilled down Tom's cheeks, but he only stopped talking momentarily. "Each time someone would come into the bar with dark brown eyes, I'd take them back there, and kiss them, to see what I'd feel. I never felt anything. I'd kick them out. Then you walked in, and I recognized your eyes as the ones in my mind. And I kissed you, and I wanted to keep kissing you, because you made me feel so incredible. And then you beamed me home. That's all that happened," he finished quietly.
The shield fell around Chakotay's feet in tiny pieces as it disintegrated. His knees got weak, as the overwhelming relief mixed with his pain. He opened his arms and Tom was in them in an instant. He held him closely, so closely, his own tears falling freely when Tom's arms wrapped around his shoulders. He finally succumbed, letting his love for this man outshine everything else. His husband. His lover. His life. He couldn't find the words, he didn't know what to say. He only knew that he believed him, and that he loved him, and they were back where they belonged. After everything - they were back. And nothing had ever felt sweeter.
Tom moved and looked deeply into him. "See, Chak, I only needed you. Just you."
"I love you, Tom." His voice was thick with emotion. He'd barely gotten the sentiment out.
Tom stroked his face, and touched his tattoo, and rubbed a thumb over his lips. "I have missed you -- so much." He dipped his head, and kissed him, passionately, pouring his feelings into it. Chakotay accepted it all and returned it, reveling in it, embracing it, letting it electrify him. He deepened the kiss, needing to taste Tom, to taste them. Nothing had ever been as heady, or tasted as delicious.
He pulled back, enough to focus on him. He was the most beautiful man Chakotay had ever known. And he was his, all his. "Come on," he said quietly, "let's go to bed. Our bed."
Tom smiled, turned them, and walked them to the bedroom, his arm firmly around Chakotay's shoulders, his lips traveling over Chakotay's hair, his scent filling Chakotay's senses. Exquisitely.
"Our bed," Tom sighed. "As in yours and mine."
He caressed Tom's hip, and side. "Yours and mine," he agreed. Nothing had ever sounded as perfect.
Martis thought she might burst. Right there in the biobed. From such utter exhaustion that she didn't feel tired. From such immense love that she didn't believe she'd ever feel anything else in her entire life. But this. Just this. She glanced up at Noah, her throat aching anew to see the tear tracks on his lovely face, inches from her own. Their eyes met. He moved, and kissed her, tenderly with the hint of more, just exactly like he did each time.
"I love you, Martis," he said. "He is absolutely beautiful, isn't he?"
She started crying again, so she only nodded, and looked back down at the baby in her arms. He was beautiful. Just like she'd seen him: golden skin, a tuft of dark brown, curly hair, all of his fingers and toes. There was one difference - in her visions his eyes had always been closed. They'd opened briefly enough for her and Noah to see that they were blue. The blue of hers, and of her father, and mother. He was beautiful.
"They're dying to see you. Are you ready?" Noah kissed her head.
Clearing her throat, she nodded. "Yes, please, I'm dying to see them, too."
Noah waved to the Doctor, who was standing some meters away. Within seconds, the three proud grandfathers came dashing in, surrounding her, with Da by her side first. She looked at him and cried again. He immediately sat on the stool and hugged as much of her as he could reach, telling her how proud he was, kissing her hair, wiping her face.
"I love you, Da," she choked out. "Look - he's got your eyes. Mama's eyes. They're blue. Blue."
"Well, I'll take your word for it, honey, 'cause the little guy's eyes are shut tight." Da reached in and stroked her son's face with one finger. "He's a beauty, though." He looked up a Noah. "Who has blue eyes in your family?"
"My grandmother was three quarters Caucasian. The recessive gene comes from her." Noah grinned. "So - we've picked out a name for him."
"Well," Martis said, "we've had one picked for a day. We just wanted to try it on him first. It fits." She looked at Da, and at Tayo, grinning right next to him, and Neelix on the other side of the bed, at Noah's knee. "We'd like you to meet Joseph Thomas Lessing. Joseph after Noah's dad, and Thomas after you, Da, of course. Who wants to hold him first?" She lifted her baby away from her chest.
Da wasn't moving. He was biting his lip hard, and she could see tears welling rapidly.
"Tom, love," Tayo said, "take him. Hold your grandson. Or I'm going to go first and you'll never get him out of my arms."
She handed Joseph Thomas to his grandfather, and Da finally took him, cradling him, the tears falling now, as he crooned to him, and gazed from the baby to Tayo, and back again. Tayo put his big finger inside the boy's fist, and kissed Da's hair.
"Neelix," Da said in a shaky voice, "Come here, you, too."
Neelix bustled around the bed, and Da stood, and all three men hovered around her son. She had never seen anything quite as incredible as this. Out of the corner of her eye, Noah waved to the Doctor again. The EMH came forward quickly, and snapped image after image. She could hardly wait to see them.
She closed her eyes momentarily. The warm spot hit her chest, and spread. I love you, too, Mama. Thank you.
B'Elanna walked into sick bay, holding Ken's hand. Marla was on her other side, and she could tell the woman was about to sprint to the biobed. After another five steps, she did make a little noise of delight and moved quickly to Noah's side, hugging him, and Martis, and greeting the baby. Marla also gave her congratulations to the baby's three grandfathers, who were hovering and grinning widely.
B'Elanna watched it all until Ken pulled at her to keep moving. Martis met her eyes, and the shine of them, the absolute bliss in them made her breath catch in her throat. She stayed focused on her friend, someone as close as a sister to her, someone who'd be raising a child on this ship along with her. She let go of Ken's hand at the foot of the bed and approached. She was vaguely aware that Ken had gone to give Noah a hug.
"Mart," she said softly. The young woman nodded, beaming, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks. She looked like she'd been crying for hours, and B'Elanna wanted to ask her if they were good tears, or tears of frustration, pain, or fear.
"B'El, here he is," Martis said. She held the baby up. "Go ahead, take him..."
She hesitated, but those blue eyes encouraged her; for once Martis was the one guiding her, teaching her. She finally took the baby into her arms.
"Joseph Thomas," Martis said.
He was so incredibly small, and weighed nothing, and felt so fragile. She knew she was going to start crying any minute, so she just tried to keep breathing. He was beautiful, and she wondered if all babies looked that way, or was it only because she was pregnant, and would anyone think that of her baby when it finally arrived on board? Joseph Thomas. She stroked his cheek. "Hello, J.T.," she murmured. He opened his eyes. "Blue, huh? Well, your buddy, whenever he or she arrives, will have brown eyes, or maybe hazel, after his father..."
"He or she will be a hellion, too, no doubt," Tom teased.
Good natured laughing came from all around the biobed. She turned to him. "Spirited, that's all. Just a spirited child."
"And brilliant," Ken said with pride. "Taking after his or her mother."
She almost blushed. A general discussion of the various qualities of all four new parents started but she just let it drift on around her. Harry and Greg showed up to meet the new boy. She had to give up her turn, and as she passed him to Greg, her arms felt empty. She turned to Martis, and their eyes locked.
Martis smiled at her, and nodded, and she smiled back. Yes. She could do this. She leaned down to hug her sister.
Finally, just when Martis thought she couldn't possibly stay awake another second, the Doctor, at Noahs's quiet urging, started shooing everyone away. It seemed like most of the crew had appeared, even if just to wave around the door and give her a thumbs up. Sickbay was finally, blessedly empty, except for Noah and her three fathers. Even the Doctor had deactivated himself, stating dryly that he'd earned his keep over the last few days, and could do with a rest.
Naomi had been in to see her too, and watching her leave, holding tightly to Samantha's hand, Martis tried to put aside the concerns she felt. She made a vow to invite her oldest friend to her cabin the very next day, to have her help with Joseph, maybe have her change a diaper or two. Naomi was going to be fine, her real family would make sure of it.
She looked over to Joseph Thomas, asleep in Neelix's arms. Neelix couldn't take his eyes off him, and she knew exactly how he felt. She caressed the baby with her eyes for the umpteenth time, delineating his form, memorizing his face, the one she had seen for so long now in her mind. Her eyes started to close.
Tayo stood, started to pull Da up with him, making shooing noises, as he wrapped an arm around his waist. Tayo's skin was nearly the same color as Joseph's, just a golden hue lighter.
Just as Neelix started to rise too, the sickbay doors swooshed open one more time.
"Are we too late?" Kathryn ambled into sickbay with Jaffen. "We're sorry, Martis. I was delayed on the bridge."
There was a chorus of protests, and a general settling back down, and space made on the edge of the bed for Kathryn and Jaffen. Neelix passed Joseph to Kathryn.
"Oh, Martis, Noah, he's wonderful." Martis could see the sheen of tears in Kathryn's eyes. Funny how Kathryn's emotions seemed so much closer to the surface since Quarra, as if part of the veneer had been stripped away with the mindwipe.
Jaffen moved closer to her, putting an arm around her shoulders, under the pretence of admiring the baby. The two of them absorbed themselves in Joseph for a few minutes, before Kathryn reluctantly handed him to Martis.
"It's late, we should let you sleep." A flurry of hugs, kisses, and congratulations all around, then Kathryn and Jaffen left sickbay.
Martis saw their entwined hands, and sensed the gradual entwining of their hearts. She drew Joseph closer to her body, and rested her cheek against Noah's caressing hand.
Yes, life was pretty nearly perfect.
END.
© Cassatt and Shayenne, July 2002 Please email me to post/distribute elsewhere.