Disclaimer: All owned by Paramount. Not mine.
Rated NC-17
They had done it. Voyager re-entered the Alpha Quadrant seven years four months and three days after she had inadvertently left it. She had done it, thought Kathryn. Chakotay, their crew and herself. Together they had brought the ship home.
They had done it. Two weeks before Voyager re-entered the Alpha Quadrant, Chakotay had kissed Seven for the first time. They had done it, thought Kathryn. Chakotay, Seven and whatever fatalistic combination of hormones and happenstance that had brought them together. Together the two of them were home and her own nebulous hopes of a future with Chakotay crumbled into space dust. The Admiral had told her that Chakotay married Seven in some future time, but Kathryn had foolishly assumed that the unspoken promises between herself and her first officer would coalesce and crystallize into open acknowledgement of their feelings. Enough that he would push Seven away. Enough to bind him to her side.
It was raining the day they brought Voyager into land in San Francisco. Rain swept in sheets down the hull, blurring the view of the city as Tom began the final preparations for landing. Kathryn looked around her bridge. Crewmen were busy with the preparations, but their exaltation was plainly visible. In her mind, she had envisaged this moment many times. She would turn to Chakotay, sitting on her left, and beckon to him. He would lean over the center console, and she would reach for him and place her hand on his cheek.
"I can do this now," she would whisper. "I love you." And she would kiss him.
Initially he would be surprised, unwilling to trust the appearance of this moment. Then his lips would soften, and without breaking the kiss, he would pull her to her feet and into his arms, kissing her soundly and thoroughly. The bridge crew would cheer as she leaned into the solid comfort of his embrace.
"I love you, too," he would say.
Instead the command chair on her left was empty. She resisted the urge to turn her head to see where Chakotay was, that would be too obvious. Instead, she stood and casually surveyed her bridge, hands on hips. Chakotay stood next to Seven. As she watched, Seven touched his face and leaned forward, kissing him lightly on the lips. Chakotay returned the kiss, which deepened.
The cold knot of misery settled heavily in her belly. She turned away, unable to watch. Even if she hadn't known from the Admiral's talk, witnessing this scene would have brought it painfully home. As she turned away she caught Harry's eye. She knew that Harry had seen the kiss, they were right in front of him after all, but he was watching her. He smiled slightly at her, sympathy in his face.
Harry's sympathy, the last thing she wanted, gave her the fortitude to return to her seat. "Crew, back to your stations," she said. "Let's end this journey."
Chakotay returned to his seat and she took his hand. "Congratulations, Commander." She let the ambiguous words hang. His hand was flaccid in her grasp. With a pang she remembered the last time she had taken his hand on the bridge, as she left to fight the Borg at their own game. Then his clasp, warm and sure, had seemed full of promise. Now, it served to remind her of all she had lost.
He had the grace to blush slightly. "You deserve the congratulations, Kathryn. Your persistence got us all home." He squeezed her hand slightly and released it. He didn't meet her eyes.
She forced her eyes to the front. "Take her in, Tom. We're home." The pain in the region of her heart dulled the bubbling joy she felt at their homecoming.
Kathryn had worried about the homecoming in a lot of ways. She had worried about the Maquis, taken to task certainly, imprisonment not out of the question. The Equinox crew too. Although they had proven themselves on Voyager, their past history was not something that could be easily overlooked. And herself. She had made more than a few questionable decisions during their journey. Court martial was not something she could discount.
In the end it was surprisingly easy. The Maquis were released, the Equinox crew discharged without shame, it being acknowledged that they were only following orders. And she was commended and promoted. The debriefings went on for weeks, and during that time she hardly saw Chakotay. Three months after Voyager's return though, it was all over. The crew was given three months leave, and a chance to consider the various commissions and outside offers they had received.
She went back to Indiana. She needed to think. B'Elanna had told her that Chakotay and Seven were staying in Phoenix, Arizona, a modern city. She supposed it was the compromise between Chakotay's need for a connection to the landscape and Seven's disdain for anything primitive. B'Elanna had said that they, 'seemed content.'
She waited for two weeks, still half expecting the deliberate soft tread of Chakotay's footsteps to surprise her one evening as she sat on the wide return verandah, a glass of ice tea in her hand. She still nurtured the hope that now they were home, he would come to her, but as the days slipped by, even that faint hope slid quietly away from her.
She turned over the Admiral's words in her mind many times during these solitary evenings. She pondered the Admiral's appearance, particularly the timing of it in their journey. Why then? Why not earlier, in time to prevent Joe's death, or earlier still, maybe back at the Caretaker. Or before they left spacedock. The harder she thought, the fewer answers she had. But one thing seemed clear; the Admiral had told her about Chakotay marrying Seven, knowing, with the knowledge of her own feelings, that her words would bring pain. To Kathryn, this meant that the Admiral had wanted to prevent that happening.
For once in her life, Kathryn Janeway did not know what to do.
Then Tuvok called. He had returned to Vulcan after being released by Starfleet. They exchanged pleasantries; she was pleased to hear that the fal-tor-voh was successful.
"You must come and visit T'Pel and myself," he said. "T'Pel is insistent that you come. And I would be pleased. I find that I miss your companionship."
She smiled to herself. Such a Vulcan thing to say. And as close to a display of emotion as Tuvok ever got.
"Maybe next week," she heard herself saying.
"Next week, certainly, Captain. However..." and Tuvok hesitated. "Seven of Nine will be staying with us next week while she considers an offer to head a research team here on Vulcan. You may wish to see her?"
"Is Chakotay accompanying her?" she asked.
"No, he will remain in Phoenix. She is coming alone."
"Then I'll let you have the time alone with Seven," she said. "You mentored her several times on Voyager. She may be glad of your advice now."
"As you wish, Captain. But we hope to see you soon."
"You will, Tuvok. And please send my regards to T'Pel."
She closed the channel. Suddenly her course of action was blindingly clear.
Eight days after Tuvok's call, Kathryn transported to Phoenix. It was only a short walk from the public transport station to Chakotay's house, but Phoenix in August was blindingly hot, even in the lengthening shadows of early evening. She walked along the modern street, past the surreal saguaro cactus, stretching imploring arms to the sky. The sweat was trickling down between her breasts by the time she reached the house. The thin cotton sundress stuck to her back. She hadn't called ahead, wanting her visit to be a surprise.
She rang the chime. The door swung open and Chakotay stood there, barefoot and clad in nothing but a pair of loose running shorts.
"Kathryn!" He swung the door wider. "Come in out of the heat before you melt."
"Thanks." She walked into the main room, gloomy and dim after the glare of the sunlight. As her eyes adjusted, she made out a terracotta-tiled floor, high ceilings and southwestern decor.
"Nice place," she offered. "Is it yours?"
"Yes, I bought it a few weeks ago." He led her into a large modern kitchen. "Iced tea or beer?"
It was tempting to go for the Dutch courage offered by the beer, but she resisted. "The tea sounds good."
He poured her a glass and perched upon on of the tall bar stools at the counter and studied her. "You're looking well," he said at last. "Being back on Earth must suit you. Or being on leave?"
"Either. Both." She idly stirred the tea as she wondered how to phrase her purpose for coming.
"You've missed Seven," said Chakotay. "She left for Vulcan yesterday."
He had given her the opening she needed. "Actually, I have come to see you." She watched his face from under lowered lashes. He appeared surprised and more than a little uncomfortable.
"Ah." He got up, and leaving his tea on the counter crossed over to stand in front of the window. She noticed the strong lines of his back, the sparse dark hairs on his thighs. "Kathryn... Why did you come here?" His tones were wary.
"I've hardly seen you since we've been back," she said lightly. "Do I need a reason to see my best friend?"
"I thought you didn't see me in that way anymore." His voice was low and she had to strain to catch his words. "I thought you were angry... upset maybe. Because of Seven and me."
"That's what I want to talk about," she said. She swallowed hard.
"Please don't." His voice caught slightly. "Kathryn, please, if you value our friendship at all, please don't make me explain."
She crossed to stand next to him. Shoulder to shoulder, they stood in their accustomed positions, as they had stood so many times together on Voyager's bridge. She kept her eyes on the scene out of the window. A native cactus garden and sunbleached tiles baked in the heat. A small lizard scurried across a paving slab.
"I need to know," she said. It was easier to say if she didn't look at him. "I thought we had an understanding. I thought we were waiting for each other. That when we were home, we would be together. I waited for you. But you didn't come to find me, instead you're here, shacked up with Seven."
"Please, Kathryn, no." His voice shook again, and he turned towards her, his hands blindly out in front of him.
"Do you love her?" she asked.
"Yes... no... I don't know. Kathryn, I'm so sorry. So very sorry. I knew it would hurt you, but I can't leave now. In all conscience I can't."
"Do you love me?" She had to ask the question.
His shaking increased. "You know I do," he whispered eventually. "I love you more than life itself."
She stepped up close to him, sliding her arms around his waist, feeling the smooth touch of his skin. "I love you," she said. "I have since New Earth." She laid her head on his chest. "We love each other, Chakotay. Why deny ourselves further, surely seven years of wanting is enough? We must be together. Seven will adapt. I understand you don't want to hurt her, but it's better to make a clean break now."
His arms rose and hovered in the air. "No." His voice was anguished. "It's not that." Convulsively he clutched her to him, running his hands over her back, down to her hip. His face dropped and buried itself in her hair. "I can't leave her."
Suddenly she knew that there was more to come. A lot more. She waited.
His voice was muffled by her hair. "I don't love her," he said. "But she's pregnant with my child. I can't leave."
The room tilted as her world swayed on its axis. The moment seemed to hang, his words echoing into a vacuum of time. She took a deep breath and then another one when the first one did nothing to calm her. A baby. Chakotay's baby. Chakotay and Seven's baby.
The heavy weight of loss settled again in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't compete with that. She knew from his past history that Chakotay would never willingly abandon any child of his. She remembered Seska, and her scheming to obtain his DNA. He had been prepared to sacrifice almost anything to retrieve that child; he certainly would not abandon a child he had conceived out of love.
"A baby." Her voice was muffled in his chest. She felt him nod into her hair. Carefully she eased away from him, loosening her hold on the warm skin. It shivered at her withdrawal.
"Congratulations." Her voice was flat.
"Kathryn, please listen to me." He took her hands and led her over to a low couch. Still holding her hands, he sat, drawing her down with him.
"Seven and I…" He swallowed convulsively. "I never meant for it to go this far. She was attracted to me. She came to me, asked me if we could date. I didn't see the harm in it, after all, she wasn't you and I thought my heart was safe. But somewhere along the way, the lines got a little blurred. She is young, naïve. I found I liked the idea of being her teacher, in love as well as in life. But we were never intimate… not until she came to me the first night that the Admiral was on board."
His hands grasped hers more firmly, as if he was drawing courage from her calmness. "She said that as we were going home, she would like for me to be the one to initiate her into lovemaking. She said that she felt safe with me, and that I genuinely like her, Annika the person and not just her attractive packaging."
Kathryn forced herself to remain still, and let him tell the story in his own time, his own words.
"So I took her to my bed. My boosters were current. Hell, they were always current, just in case you ever decided you wanted me. So I didn't worry about making her pregnant. We were only together that one time. The next thing I knew, we were home, and life was crazy with Starfleet, debriefing, trials. It was frantic." He shook his head slowly. "All those years of craziness in the Delta Quadrant and all it took was a few admirals asking probing questions to throw me."
His hands tightened on hers once again. "I went to her when the trials were over. I told her that she shouldn't continue to take my place in her life for granted. I told her I loved you, and that we had an agreement."
"She was hurt. I could tell. And she told me…" His voice faltered. "She told me, that she was pregnant and it was mine. I asked her how I was possible; my contraceptive boosters should have prevented it. She said that," his voice took on a bitter note, " conception was 99.97% certain to succeed, her nanoprobes ensured that. She informed me that she wanted a child and that I was a 'suitable donor of genetic material'."
Kathryn gasped at the hurt in Chakotay's voice. She didn't blame him. Twice now, a woman had tried to become pregnant with his child without his knowledge or consent.
"She said that I could play a part in my child's life if I took on the traditional role of father, and bonded with her in a nuclear family arrangement. Otherwise, she said, she owed it to her child to find a suitable father figure. Her research indicated that one-parent families were harder on both parent and child. Kathryn, what could I do? I had a choice of you or my child, and I didn't even know for sure that you still wanted me."
She saw he was crying silently, the story that he hadn't wanted to tell had unleashed his tears.
"So what happens now?" she whispered. "Do I just walk away?"
"I can't leave her, Kathryn. I just can't. I'm trapped in a prison of my own making. And I'm trying. If I have to be with her, then I'm trying to make it work."
She shuffled towards him on the couch, enfolding him in her arms and bringing the dark head down to her shoulder. Rhythmically, she stroked his shoulders, trying, through her own heartbreak to offer him some comfort. His head lay turned towards her neck. She could feel his lips moving on her skin, as he gulped in air. His shoulders heaved.
Her stroking hands slowed. In a heartbeat she became aware of exactly how few clothes he had on, and how closely she was holding him. His lips against her neck, his skin under her hands. Her movements stilled. This was Chakotay, her friend, who now would never be more. Who was tied, body and soul to the woman she had once called her friend. She couldn't see Seven in that light anymore, her actions seemed deliberately calculated, designed to sever the ties between the command team and claim Chakotay for her own. She even had doubts that Seven really wanted a child, one insidious thought pushed its way through, that maybe Seven just wanted security. Surely her study of human behavior must have taught her that what she did was morally wrong?
Chakotay's arms tightened around her, bringing her thoughts back to him. His bare chest felt hot against her side as she held him, pressed against her, only the thin cotton sundress between them. She felt him take a breath, then another and his breathing quickened. She knew what he was going to say, what he was going to do, and she knew as surely as she knew her own name how she would respond.
Chakotay lifted his head from her neck. In the dim light she could see his face so close to her. "I love you," he whispered. "I have no right to ask this, but…"
Her fingers against his lips stopped his words. "I know," she said. "We have tonight."
With a suddenness that left her giddy, Chakotay pushed her back on the couch, covering her with his body, pushing his hands into her hair. His lips descended, touched her mouth, once lightly, twice insistently.
There were no more words. She may have lost him to Seven, but she would have this and Seven could never take that away. She opened her lips under his, letting him delve into her mouth. She felt the light pressure of his weight upon her as he supported himself on his elbows even as his mouth worshipped hers. Sweet kisses, soft, gentle kisses, nipping and sucking and swirling in her mouth, wet and deep, so full of meaning. His lips left hers to settle in the crook of her neck again, but this time they moved with deliberate intent.
She shuddered to feel him like this, after so long, so many happenings, so many words unsaid, explanations not offered. She knew that this was not the time for talk. Now was for the affirmation of their love, time only for the physical. Time to act upon the attraction that had always simmered between them, a chance to make it real, if only for this once.
She let her hands drift down his spine, smoothing over his skin, a deeper golden than usual with the Arizona sunbloom. The steady clunk of the ceiling fan stirred the humid air, the repetitive noise a drumbeat of anticipation, of ceremony. She shifted on the couch; the tilt of the seat was pushing her into the back.
He noticed, and lifted himself off her. "Let's go somewhere else," he murmured. "Somewhere more comfortable." He pulled her to her feet, tight against his body.
"Not your bed," she said. Not the bed you shared with Seven. She didn't want to have to smell his musky sleep-smell mixed in with Seven's sharp scent on the sheets. Didn't want to think about the two of them, entwined in the bed.
He led her instead to a soft rug, lying on the cool tiles in front of the wide windows. "Here," he said. "Here where we can look to the beauty outside even as we create our own paradise."
She nodded, and stood in front of him, slipping the large buttons of the dress she wore. He stood unmoving, in front of her, his eyes following the movements of her fingers. When she moved to push the dress off her shoulders, he stopped her.
"Let me," he said. "I've dreamed of this." His hands drifted down her neck, rimming the scooped neck of the dress with a careful finger, before sliding it off her shoulders and letting it fall. It pooled at her feet, a circle of sunshine against the rich deep tones of the rug.
She wasn't wearing a bra, and she watched as Chakotay stretched out a trembling finger to trace the line of first one breast, then the other. He rubbed a thumb over her nipple. She wondered if he was comparing her to Seven and finding her wanting, but his next words reassured her.
"So beautiful," he murmured, "so perfect." He bent and put his mouth to her breast, laving her nipple with his tongue. His other hand skated over her ribs to cup her other breast.
His tongue elicited waves of sensation, coursing through her body, pooling deep in her belly. Her knees weakened and she sagged against him. He sank to his knees, pulling her down with him, to lie on the soft rug. She lay on her back, watching his dark head work over her breasts, feeling the large hand stroke its way across her belly.
Her hands were busy too; sliding down to the material of his shorts bunched on his hip. She traced the waistband, tight against his skin, before slipping her hand inside to cup his buttock. He arched against her at the sensation, and the ridge of his erection imprinted itself against her side. She tugged at his shorts, wanting to feel the heat of him, and he pulled away long enough to kick away the shorts. Pushing her legs apart, he knelt between her thighs, leaning down to take her mouth in a kiss so deep, so intense that it in itself was an act of consummation.
His mouth traveled down her body, lapping and learning, dipping into her navel and moving inexorably down, further until his moist breath dampened the crease of her belly, just above her panties.
She reached for him, trying to touch him, to feel the hard shaft that jutted proudly in front of him. She longed to stroke him, taste him, but he held himself away from her, just his mouth moving on her skin.
His large hands grasped the damp material and she raised her hips to let him pull them off her. Naked together for the first time, Captain and Commander stared at one another. This is so right, thought Kathryn hazily, even as Chakotay's fingers danced teasingly across the damp curls, to drop down onto the impossibly soft skin of her inner thighs. This is how it should have been from the beginning.
His fingers advanced slowly, enough to brush the center of her. One finger extended and she felt just the tip slip into her. He lay on his stomach between her legs, and deliberately began to move his mouth, slowly, agonizingly slowly up her inner thigh. When he reached his goal, he moved suddenly and lapped at her sex, quick flicks, catlike against her. His finger pushed in, pressing upwards and it was too much. Her reaction was violent. Her hips rose, arched taut against his face as he continued to suck her. Her hands clenched into fists crashed down on the rug as she rode out her climax, on and on in a series of exquisite crescendos.
When she stilled, he moved up over body, kissing her softening nipples to once again claim her lips. His face was wet, the moisture from her body mixing with his tears, so salty the taste of his mouth as she kissed him. She grasped his hips, letting him settle between her parted thighs, let him ease into his place in her body. He moved slowly, as if he wanted this moment to last forever, and maybe he did.
She raised one knee slightly and he rocked down in the cradle of her hips. Reaching under her own leg, she finally touched the silk of him, satin steel, such an erotic paradox. Running a finger over the tip, she shifted slightly, placing him where she wanted him most. Her hips tilted instinctively in the age-old knowledge of how best to make the connection and her breath caught as he slipped silently into her.
He was still, pulsing quietly, sheathed deep within her body. "Oh, Kathryn." His voice broke on her name. "Spirits, how I love you." he pushed himself up on both hands, so that he arched over her, still intimately joined.
She looked down over their bodies, seeing the golden and the white, skin on skin, soul to soul and started to cry. The perfection, the wonderment, and the knowledge of all that had gone so horribly wrong between them overflowed, and she cried silently, the tears slipping from her eyes to slide down her cheeks.
He started to rock inside her, his movements pushing her into a second sweet climax, even as she shattered inside with misery. He fell forward as he came, a sunburst of white heat, a maelstrom of emotion.
They lay together, unwilling to separate, fingertips brushing sweat-sheened skin, mouths kissing, legs entwined.
They had one night. One night to make up for seven years of denial. Neither of them wanted to waste it in sleep. They came together several times, fiercely demanding or sweetly gentle. Their bodies reaffirmed the love that they openly spoke of, their souls grew closer, nestling together, entwining in denial of the coming separation. And with each outpouring of love, each sticky joining of bodies, the bittersweet knowledge that this was all they had, grew sharper, fearful of the coming daylight.
Inevitably he asked her. "She's gone for a week." He said the words quietly. "Would you…"
Again, she stopped his words with her fingers. "You think a week would be enough? No, Chakotay. A lifetime spent with you would never be enough. I'll go in the morning. Back to Indiana."
He had known what her answer would be of course, but that didn't stop fresh tears pooling in his eyes.
"How can I do this?" He whispered the words brokenly, a man caught between a rock and a hard place. "How can I pretend to build a life with Seven now?"
"You must," she said, catching his tears with her fingertips and bringing them to her mouth. "For your child's sake."
"I love you, Kathryn. If there was any way I could turn back the time and tides and undo what I did, I would."
"I know," she murmured. "I love you too, more than life, more than anything."
The dawn stretched pale pink fingers of light into the room, painting the two people lying there with an ethereal glow. The lizard darted across the earth, catching the early sunlight. A trail of ants marched in single file over the pad of a prickly pear. Dust puffed under the feet of a solitary coyote, making early morning rounds. The world turned slowly, tides rolled, time crept onwards.
She left without saying goodbye. She waited until he was showering before donning her clothes and creeping away on silent feet. It was better this way. There was nothing more to be said.
As she walked to the transport station, she made her plans. It would not be so difficult. After all, she had successfully done it once. The ablative shielding could be modified to fit the Delta Flyer very easily. And the temporal device was held at Starfleet Command. She could procure it without difficulty.
She would only need one temporal jump. One that would take her back five months. To two months before Voyager's return to the Alpha Quadrant. The transwarp hub would still be in existence. With the shield modifications the Flyer would have little difficulty. And then she would rendezvous with Voyager two months before they made the fateful leap back into the Alpha Quadrant. And six weeks before Chakotay became even slightly involved with Seven.
The plan needed no further modification. She would convince her slightly younger self. It wouldn't be difficult. She would tell her everything that had happened, everything. The good, the bad and the heartbreakingly ugly. And then she would once again sacrifice herself to the Borg so that her younger self could find happiness.
With Chakotay. Her love.
FIN
Author's Note: I didn't like the Janeway or Chakotay that TPTB presented us with in Endgame. Since when was Janeway so coldly
immoral, changing the lives of billions just so that her friends could have a better life? And since when did Chakotay fall for shallow
busty blondes instead of his beloved Kathryn anyway? Okay… don't answer that one
But the fact remains that this is the Janeway and the Chakotay that we were handed in Endgame. So although Kathryn's motivation
is highly selfish in this story, I really only took her a little bit further along the same road that TPTB had already led her down.
Read the sequel - Breaking Waves (J/C and J/C and J/J/C)
Feedback? Please. Shayenne