Rated G
Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything.
Summary: There was something very wrong with that last scene…
The light was golden, a rich molten brightness shining through the trees. Kathryn lifted her face towards it. Sunlight, and from the first sun she had ever known. She was home. Every blade of grass, every leaf and tree in the whole park was home.
Even though it had been a while since their return, she could sometimes hardly believe it had happened. Normally she'd be suspicious of such good fortune. But there was something about walking in the park with Chakotay that made it very difficult to care.
She slowed and stopped in the middle of one of the wide swathes of grass. She wished she could somehow save this moment, find a way to bottle the light, the scent of the grass, to take out again on a winters evening.
Chakotay had stopped beside her, it seemed he was also absorbing the scene around him. Then his gaze shifted and settled on her. He seemed to be considering something, perhaps there was something he was hesitant to say. She gave him a curious smile, and that seemed to make up his mind. He grinned at her, then very deliberately stepped towards her.
"Chakotay?"
Quick as lightening, he grabbed her hands, and leaned back, pulling the two of them into a sudden spin. She gave a squeak of surprise, and started laughing, as they spun faster and faster. She could see his grinning face clearly, but everything around them blurred dizzyingly.
"Cha-ko-tay!" she said, as they showed no signs of stopping. His grin widened, and he only held her hands tighter. She clung on just as tightly - if she let go now, they'd go flying.
"What are you doing?" she asked, between gasps of laughter.
"Spinning," he replied, "I'm spinning you,"
It felt like her feet were about to lift from the ground.
"Stop!" she cried, still laughing, "We'll fall over - "
They slowed, stilled, the world around still spinning. Chakotay stumbled, and she grabbed hold of him, whether to steady him or herself, she wasn't sure. They held each other, swaying slightly, legs weak.
The clouds were bright, the air was warm, She felt light-headed, she looked at sunlight on her hand, she was holding a fistful of his jacket.
"I think we should sit down before we fall over," said Chakotay, his voice loud against her ear. They both lowered themselves to the ground; she let go of his jacket and threaded her fingers through the grass.
"Chakotay."
"Yes?" "The ground is moving."
"I know. It'll stop if you wait long enough."
She waited, looking at the wildflowers, small fragments of yellow scattered amongst the green.
"Are you okay now?" he asked, and she smiled up at him.
"Yes. The world is back to normal again." She tilted her head to the side. "But what were you doing, anyway? And don't say 'spinning', I mean, what was that for?"
"I have to have a reason to spin my Commanding Officer?"
"You know I'm not your Commanding Officer any more."
"True." He gave her a small smile. "It was what I'd intended to do."
She stared at him.
"It was what I intended to do," he gave a small sigh, "When we reached home."
"We are home."
"But when we first reached home. When we were on the bridge. I meant to…" he trailed off, and suddenly she understood. The sun faded, and she looked beyond him.
She could remember their moment of triumph with perfect clarity. Tom had hurried from the Bridge to see his daughter. She'd turned to Chakotay and - for the first time - he wasn't there. She'd always imagined he would be. Just a few inches away, they'd turn in unison and that would be all they needed. But he wasn't a few inches away, nor a few steps away, by his chair.
He was up the steps, by the rail, with someone else. It wasn't far, but it might as well have been the other end of quadrant, for all she could reach him. A chasm of loss had opened under her feet. There was no way she could cover that long distance, and move between the two figures, to touch him. He'd only moved forward when she ordered him to, and even then, just "Aye, Captain" - no word, no touch.
But that was a year ago now, long past. She put it to the back of her mind. As she focussed on Chakotay again, she realised her smile had slipped, and quickly pasted one on. "It's probably best you didn't go through with that. We might have frightened Tuvok, or hit Tom."
He looked thoughtful. "Well, there's more space here, so back there it would've just been a little spin. That was the plan, anyway."
So he'd also imagined the moment of their homecoming. It seemed like neither of them had intended what actually happened. "And how long had this plan been made?" she asked.
"Almost a year," he said, without hesitating. "Though obviously there were other plans, before that one."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh yes?"
"Well, near the beginning of our journey, we were optimistic about getting home quite soon. Certainly, in the first few weeks, my plan was to run from the bridge, stuff the Maquis in a shuttle and fly away."
"Subtle."
"No really, I had it all worked out. I'd encoded various things - the shuttle bay doors for example, to react to a certain signal…" He grinned, "It probably would have been suicide, and I realised after a few weeks that there was no point."
"So how long was it until you disabled all this then?"
"Well, I'd decided against it in… just over a month, I think. So I must…" His eyes widened, "I don't think I did ever disable them! I must have just… forgotten."
He looked distraught. "I'm so sorry Kathryn. They could have been activated only by me, so they shouldn't have caused any problems, but still…"
She grinned. "Still, it's a good thing B'Elanna came and told me about them. She helped you set it up, I believe."
"B'Elanna told you about them?"
"Yes, after a couple of months, I think."
He shook his head. "I knew B'Elanna liked you more than she let on. It's lucky she remembered to tell you."
"Actually, Tuvok had been monitoring them from the day they were created." She grinned. "Don't do that, Chakotay, your face might stick that way."
"That…" He paused, as though searching for the appropriate word. "That… Vulcan!"
She patted his hand affectionately. "There was a reason he didn't trust you very much."
Chakotay sighed. "So they were disabled. That's a relief."
"No, they were never disabled."
"Kathryn? This conversation is specifically designed to confuse me, isn't it?"
"Chakotay, believe it or not, I like you. A lot. And the former Maquis. In the early days, it was very likely you'd be arrested if we reached home, and I knew you didn't deserve it. So I considered it likely that, on our arrival home, Voyager might be 'damaged', and unable to stop you from leaving."
He gaped at her. "Even after two months - "
"Even after two months. So tell me, what was your plan once you'd given up on the escaping one?"
He gathered his thoughts for a moment. "I was going to shake your hand, congratulate you, and tell you I'd enjoyed serving with you."
"And the next plan?"
"I was going to shake your hand, congratulate you, and tell you I'd enjoyed serving… under you."
Under. She remembered the day in Engineering, his face lit up with a smile and the glow of the warp core. She looked at him through her lashes "Really?" she said, and was horrified to hear her voice had lowered to a purr.
"Really."
She cleared her throat. "And after that?"
"I'm not sure I remember all the plans after that."
"There were a lot?"
"I don't remember them."
She touched his hand. "You should know by now that you can't lie to me, Chakotay."
He looked away, then back at her. "I suppose it doesn't matter if I tell you," he said, slowly.
She lay back on the grass, and looked up at the sky. Small clouds, there was one that looked like Voyager, if she half closed her eyes.
"Go on."
He took off his jacket, folded it into a pillow, and lay down beside her. "After we got back from that planet…" New Earth, her mind supplied. They never referred to it by name. And as this was the only planet they didn't name, she always knew when he spoke of it. She let her eyelids fall entirely shut.
"After we were back on Voyager, I decided - if we then got home - I'd kiss you."
She didn't open her eyes. "On the bridge?"
"No, on the lips," he said. She didn't need to see his expression, there was laughter in his voice. "Yes, on the bridge, in front of Tom and Harry and Tuvok. And I'd just have to take the chance you wouldn't punch me."
She smiled. "Brave of you." She didn't answer the unspoken question, about her actual reaction.
"That was near the end of our second year," he said, apparently expecting no further response. "By the time we were half way through the third, I had a new plan. And a prop to go with it."
"A prop?"
"A ring."
Suddenly she was glad her eyes were closed. She felt something painful close round her throat, and didn't trust herself to speak. After a short pause, he continued.
"I hid it in the cover of my chair, at first. Then I was afraid someone might find it, so I took to carrying it around in my uniform. I thought it safest to carry it on a chain round my neck. I wore it everyday, under my shirt."
Everyday. She was touched by his confidence in their homecoming. If he'd worn it everyday, he must have woken up each morning thinking they might reach Earth. She thought back - all those hours sitting next to him on the bridge, not knowing the ring was there. Not knowing the ring - his promise - was close enough for her to reach out and grasp.
Then something else occurred to her. Obviously this plan was no longer standing when they'd actually reached home. What had changed? When had he stopped carrying the ring?
She opened her eyes, the clouds above her blurred together.
"Then, the alliance with the Borg," she said slowly. She'd proven to him then, far more effectively than with parameters, that a relationship would never work between them.
"No."
"No?" She looked at him this time, she couldn't read anything from his voice.
"No. I agree that it caused us some problems but - even so, I couldn't give up. Instead, it was the letters from the array."
"Plenty of time," she said, confused.
"I was thinking about the fact you'd been engaged twice, maybe you wouldn't want to jump into it a third time. It wouldn't be fair to ask you to make that decision on the bridge, anyway. So it went back to the former plan."
"The kiss?"
"The kiss."
That wasn't so bad. Still, it hadn't remained like that. Something else must have changed.
"And what then?" she asked, her voice low. Something she's done, said? Or just a gradual loss of interest? Maybe it was neither. Maybe there'd been someone else.
"There was someone else," he said, slowly, as though she'd spoken aloud. "Only I didn't know it. Or rather, didn't remember it. I found a handwritten letter, by me, to me, describing all that had happened, and why I wouldn't remember. It seemed improbable, but I believed it was genuine. I wondered how this could possibly have happened, when the only person I wanted was you. Maybe you'd said something that had made me realise I shouldn't wait."
"Maybe," she said, neutrally.
"But maybe not," he continued. "I didn't know. The letter made no mention of you, your reactions to his woman, at all. I can only assume that you had none. And that made me unsure of what - I'd been so certain of."
"I see." She sat up and wrapped her arms round her knees. It was getting colder. "So the plan changed." "Yes. For friends, good friends, I thought a hug would be best."
That was what she'd expected, when she'd turned and found him not there.
"But time passed, and I realised we weren't good friends," he added.
Her spine stiffened; she almost flinched as though slapped. "No?" Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears.
"No," he said gently, "We were best friends. More than best friends, though what that was, I had no idea. I didn't know what I felt about you. But it was so different to what I'd felt with anyone else. I'd never - been such good friends with someone I…" he hesitated, "loved. Or had a friend I loved in this way."
He'd said the word 'love'. No, he'd said 'loved'. Past tense. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
"But because you were something that was so much more than both those things, I wasn't sure what gesture would be appropriate. Finally, I came up with the spinning." He held up a hand, "No, I'm being serious. Because that was the feeling I got when I was with you."
A slight smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Dizziness?" she wanted to suggest, but managed to bite her tongue. That really wasn't the right response.
As if reading her thoughts, Chakotay grinned. "No, it was an exhilarating feeling. Slightly mad, slightly dangerous, lots of fun." He leaned closer, "You're all of those things, Kathryn. And, with the spinning, you need two people. Each relying on the other not to let go."
She stared at him. He really could make the stupidest things into metaphors. But she understood. And she loved him for it.
"Chakotay, I - " she hesitated, "I feel the same way. About the spinning." He touched her hand, and she threaded her fingers through his. They smiled at each other, it was almost like it used to be. Almost. But something was nagging at the back of her mind, insistent. She'd promised herself she'd never ask him about this.
"But why didn't you do it?" she whispered. She managed not to say the other words, Why weren't you there? but from the look in his eyes, he heard them anyway.
His smile faltered, and she wished she hadn't said it. "Don't," she said, suddenly, "It's all right."
He shook his head. "It's not. And I wish I had an explanation for you. I suppose - I was just stunned, by the fact we'd done it. It hadn't sunk in. Everything was so mad, the sphere, Admiral Paris, Miral… And when the moment suddenly came, you were so far away. No. I was so far away. Somehow I just - couldn't move. I watched as all my planning unravelled in front of me. When you told me to take the conn, I… I felt so ashamed."
"You needn't have. Don't worry about it. I know that you had other priorities at the time. It doesn't matter."
"It does matter," he said, almost angrily, pulling away. "What could have been higher priority, at that moment, than my Captain? And I know it's not about the Captain," he added, as she took at breath to speak.
"But Kathryn, the fact remains that you were the Captain. You were the one who got us home."
"Chakotay, it was hardly a single handed achievement. Without the rest of - "
"Yes, I know without the rest of the crew, we couldn't have done it, but they couldn't have done it without you. And I mean, the whole journey. Through all the years, it was your determination, your belief that got us so far."
She swallowed. "I don't…"
"Kathryn, you know it's true. And not only your determination, but your solutions to crisis after crisis." He smiled "Unorthodox as they often were."
"My solutions? By the end of the journey, we could solve almost any problem by sticking some nanoprobes in it. Or sending Seven to sort it with some Borg algorithms."
His smiled widened. "And who was it that made our ex-drone into a useful member of the crew?"
She rolled her eyes, then laughed. "I suppose I ought to take credit for your achievements too, because I made you my First Officer rather than throwing you in the Brig. And for Tom's, and for B'Elannas, for the same reason."
"Exactly. I'm responsible for Tuvok's though, as I kept him safe and sound to return to you."
She punched his arm. "That's for our useless security! I now hold you responsible."
He shook his head, "I should've chosen Harry. For… advising him to go to the Academy in the first place."
"You did not."
"I might have. I gave that advice to a lot of people when I was younger." He sighed. "I was being serious though, Kathryn, you needn't change the subject. I should have been with you, it was your day, your hour. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," she said, "So what if you weren't at your chair when Voyager arrived home? You were there for me every other day, even when I didn't want you to be. Even when you didn't want to be. You were there when I needed you, and that's all that matters. Besides," she smiled, "You did spin me, just now. The plan didn't go to waste, it was just delayed a little."
He looked as though some great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Do you want to do it again?"
"I can hardly say no, now, can I?" She allowed him to pull her to her feet.
They spun round and round, the clouds whirling above them, the ground a blur of dappled sun, and the two of them suspended between. She watched his face in sun, shade, sun, shade. His face was the only point of stillness; he wasn't laughing this time. Neither was she. They looked at each other. She always used to come to him for stillness, when the rest of her world turned mad.
His hands were warm against her skin, holding tightly. If she fell, he'd catch her. It had always been like this, why hadn't she let herself see? The sun was blinding.
Why had he told her? Was he hoping for a beginning, or an end? Some kind of resolution? Absolution? "I suppose it doesn't matter if I tell you," he'd said. She heard his voice against the heartbeat in her ears "Someone I loved…" That word - loved. Past tense. An ending, then.
She hated her past self, for being so careless with such a gift. But it didn't matter now. She knew it had been real, she hadn't imagined it all. That was enough.
"Chakotay," she said. They slowed to a stop. They held each other at arms length, waiting for the world to become still.
"Thank you, for telling me. I would have wondered, otherwise."
He nodded.
"It was kind of you. It makes things simpler." She didn't sound like herself.
"Yes." His face was dark, haloed with sunlight. He lifted her hand to his lips, and kissed it. "I have to go now."
It did make things simpler. But it also made them harder, and colder. Still. She knew it was for the best. "Goodbye, Chakotay," she said, her voice steady. "See you at the weekend."
He squeezed her hand, then let go. "Goodbye," he said, and turned. She watched him as he walked away, into the sunlight, a long shadow cast behind him. She realised she hadn't dropped her hand - it was still held out in front of her, as though trying to reach him back.
Her hand fell to her side. It was better this way. And it would get easier with time.
***
Chakotay walked slowly, his eyes narrowed against the light. He thought of her face, features bleached pale by the sunlight. He'd woken that morning from a dream with that light, that face. He'd also woken with a new resolution. By the end of the day, he promised himself, he would know for sure, one way or another.
And now he did. It shouldn't have surprised him, but there had been moments throughout the day that had made him hope. Just before they'd parted, he'd sensed a change in her. She'd seemed withdrawn somehow, yet serene. If her decision had given her peace, then he was content. She'd been the one to give him peace, it was only fair if he could do the same in return.
"Chakotay!"
He turned and found her a pace behind him. "Chakotay - you forgot your jacket."
He took it from her and slung it over his arm. "Thank you."
She smiled, hesitated for a moment. "Well, I'll see you later.".
He nodded, and turned. The sunlight on her hair, he thought, helplessly. He would never learn not to look at it. He started walking.
She said something.
He turned immediately, she was gazing at him with an uncertain expression, as though it hadn't been her who had spoken. He closed the gap between them swiftly.
"Kathryn, did you say something?"
She shook her head, and he turned again, puzzled.
This time the words were unmistakeable. "I said… I wish we had got home in the third year."
She was looking at the ground, her eyes sad.
"I'm sorry," she said, as he laid a hand on her arm.
She looked up at him, her mouth trembled as though she was trying to smile.
"It's just… I liked that plan."
He lifted his finger to her lips. "So did I."
He lowered his hand and took a something from his jacket. "And that's why I didn't entirely gave up on it."
The ring sparkled in the sunlight. Her eyes widened.
He caught her hand. "Kathryn, I want to get it right this time. Come over here. This bench can be the command chairs, and that tree can be Tuvok, looking at us disapprovingly."
Kathryn followed him, a bemused smile playing round her lips. "It does look rather like him. It even has ears."
"Sit down here. Then stand up and pretend you can see Earth."
She rolled her eyes, but followed his instructions. "It's not difficult to pretend I can see it - we're on Earth right now."
"You know what I mean. Now." He went to stand next to her, then turned. "Congratulations, Kathryn. You got us home,"
"Right place, right time," she grinned, and he thought briefly of that day, five years ago, hundreds of years ago. Then he knelt down on the grass before her, and held out the ring.
"Kathryn Janeway, will you marry me?"
She stared at him, as though she could hardly believe it was happening. Then she smiled, that real smile that always made him dizzy with happiness. The smiles he used to count and cherish back on Voyager.
"Yes, Chakotay, I will." That smile, forever. "Now get up off the muddy ground!"
The cold damp against his knees was the only thing convincing him this wasn't a dream. "It's cleaner than the Bridge carpet would have been."
She gave the Tuvok-tree a long suffering glance, then pulled him to his feet. "Honestly Chakotay…" But she couldn't hold the expression, and her mouth curved into a crooked smile.
He gently took her hand, and slid the ring on to her finger. The single diamond glittered like the tears on her cheeks.
"Chakotay?" she whispered.
"Yes, Kathryn?"
"Can we re-enact the fourth plan now?"
"Which was the - "
She silenced him with her answer. He deepened the kiss, his hands tangling in her hair. And with his last conscious thought, he could almost hear the cheers and applause of the bridge crew all around them.
The End
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