THE DINNER CONSPIRACY

"I'm sure the woman is capable of reading a recipe, following directions and preparing something at least edible. It's not, after all, rocket science." Monkee, Workforce Part One review.

His head ached. That was the first thought that came to him, as he began to wake. He kept his eyes closed and concentrated on his breathing, trying to ignore the pain. It wasn't only his head, he realised. His chest and legs also hurt. There must have been some kind of accident, but he was lying on a soft bed, so he was no longer in immediate danger. He wasn't lying on the floor of a shuttlecraft, breathing in poisonous gases. Which was good. That meant he didn't have to move.

Shuttlecraft. The word caused a spark of memory. Vague images chased through his mind: the clouds through the viewscreen, the flickering controls, the barren surface of the planet racing up to meet him. An ion storm. He grimaced; if he never encountered another ion storm, it would still be too soon. Well, apparently he had got out of this one alive. It would probably be a good idea to open his eyes now.

"He's waking up."

The light was blinding at first. He narrowed his eyes and slowly the shapes came into focus. Even before his vision cleared, he recognised her face, smiling down at him. He suddenly felt weak with relief. The simple fact of her presence told him several things. Firstly, she was safe and well. Secondly, Voyager was fine. If it wasn't, she wouldn't have time to be in Sickbay, she'd be away battling aliens or helping with repairs. And thirdly, she was smiling, which meant that he was also okay.

"Welcome back," she said, softly. He noticed the slight pressure on his chest - her hand was resting there, reassuring, but lightly enough not to pain him.

He managed to smile back. "Kathryn," he whispered, his throat dry. "How long? What happened to me?"

"You should address questions about your condition to me," came to Doctor's voice, and he became aware of another face looking over him, one he hadn't initially noticed. The Doctor was never fond of going unnoticed, but Chakotay was sure there'd been amusement behind his irritable tone.

"However," the Doctor continued, "The Captain has spent so much time cluttering up Sickbay, she's probably just as well informed as I." Chakotay smiled again, that was definitely amusement.

"I do not 'clutter up' the place," Kathryn was saying, but seemed unable to muster a glare.

"Of course you don't," Chakotay said soothingly, his voice becoming stronger. "You're far too small."

She leaned closer to him, "It's a good thing you're still recovering, or I may have had to hurt you for that remark. But in answer to your question, it's been four days. There was an ion storm, your shuttle crashed." She waved away his apologies before they'd begun. "It wasn't your fault. And the damage to the shuttle was minimal, B'Elanna's already repaired it. You, however, were another matter. You had us quite worried." Her voice was light, but he could see the concern in her eyes.

"As for your injuries, the list was extensive, but you'll have to ask the Doctor about that. I've already repressed them."

He knew she wasn't entirely joking; he'd done the same thing about her injuries in the past. "But the Doctor says you're fine now," she added, then touched his cheek with surprising tenderness. "How do you feel?"

"Not so bad," he admitted, and strangely enough it was true. Possibly this was something to do with her touch. But the pain had lessened, and as the Doctor injected him with a hypospray, it disappeared entirely.

"In fact, as good as new. So what were my injuries?"

The Doctor reeled them off and Chakotay soon wished he hadn't asked. Still, at least there was no permanent damage. "When can I go back on duty?"

The Doctor frowned. "Not for a while. You should have a few days off to recuperate, and I'd like to keep you here today for observation. You had a head injury, and you're still weak."

More time spent in Sickbay, with the Doctor. Sickbay was so much easier to bear when you were unconscious. Chakotay felt his face fall. "Is that really necessary?"

"Well, you'll certainly can't go back on duty right away. And you really ought to have someone with you…"

He interrupted. "Someone? So it doesn't matter where I am, so long as I'm with a member of the crew?"

"I could stay with him, Doctor," said Kathryn immediately, who must have seen his despondency. Chakotay felt an irrational rush of happiness at her offer. She continued. "He could go back to his quarters - don't you think he would recover more quickly if he were in relaxing, familiar surroundings?"

That actually sounded quite plausible, Chakotay thought. He glanced around Sickbay, trying to give the impression he found his surroundings unsettling.

Unfortunately, all it did was make the Doctor scan him again.

"Hmm," said the Doctor, "Well, you do seem to be in good health, though I still have to run some tests. I suppose you could leave Sickbay later today, if I gave you a cortical monitor. However, Captain, you aren't free this evening to look after him."

She gave him a mystified glance. "I'm not?"

"No, it's the Valentine's Day party tonight, which you said you'd attend. And I certainly can't let the Commander go to a party."

She laughed, "I can easily miss the party. It really doesn't matter."

"On the contrary, Captain," smiled the Doctor, raising his eyebrows in an alarming manner. "I know for a fact you have to be there. I believe there is the small matter of a bet…"

Her eyes widened, and Chakotay looked back and forth between the two of them. Valentines Day? A bet?

"How could you possibly know about that?" she asked, taken aback. "The bet was made only last night, and Tom made everyone there swear to secrecy."

Chakotay felt his eyebrows do a passable Tuvok impression. Tom? Secrecy? It seemed he'd missed something here.

The Doctor gave them both a smug smile. "Let's just say I have my sources."

Kathryn looked at him with narrowed eyes for a moment, then sighed. "Well, it won't take long, then afterwards I could come to Sickbay and pick up Chakotay." She turned to him. "Assuming that's okay with you, of course. I haven't even asked you."

"Of course it's all right." Chakotay gave her a bemused smile. Why would he turn down the chance to be with her? Sometimes, for someone so intelligent, she could be incredibly slow.

"Then it's settled." She gave him a brilliant smile, and squeezed his hand. "I look forward to it."

"So do I," he said, squeezing her hand in reply, and cursing the Doctor's presence. Why was it that Kathryn's most obvious displays of affection usually happened in Sickbay? In fact, he already knew that answer to that.. It was usually because one or other of them had just escaped from the clutches of death, again.

It was a strange thing, but he almost enjoyed these narrow escapes. Or rather, what he enjoyed was the closeness they shared afterwards. They were always close, but she was more obvious about it when she'd been worried.

Those first few moments of waking were worth all the pain of his injuries. To have his vision come back into focus, and see her face, smiling down at him. Sometimes her face was drawn and tired, pale from her sleepless vigil, but she was always beautiful. His heart would be lifted, and he'd give thanks that he had the chance to look on her one more time.

Occasionally, he wouldn't see her immediately, but instead find her leaning against his biobed, fast asleep. Somehow that touched him even more - it let him know that she'd been there, refusing to leave, watching over him as he had for her so many times.

He was called back to the present by her low laughter. "What are you thinking?"

He realised he'd been distracted, just gazing into her eyes. The Doctor had wandered away - or retreated to a tactful distance. He marvelled at the unstinting optimism of their crew in that respect.

She was still looking at him, so he thought, quickly. "I was wondering about this bet for tonight."

She pulled a face. "Don't ask. Just something stupid…"

He grinned. "If it's just something stupid, you can tell me."

Folding her arms, she appeared to give in. "Very well. You see, last night, when the Doctor pronounced you completely out of danger, he literally forced me out of Sickbay."

"How long had you been here?" Chakotay asked.

"Pretty much since you were beamed aboard. I transferred my work to PADDs and did it here. Anyway, I told him I wasn't tired, so he handed me over to Tom and Harry, who marched me to Sandrine's to 'relax'. They've started running Sandrine's again, by the way."

Chakotay nodded for her continue. "Then?"

"Then I lost a bet, and that's all you need to know."

"Captain, Commander," said the Doctor, striding up to them. "I'm sure you must have a lot to catch up on," he paused, "What with all the unconsciousness, and hanging around Sickbay, but it'll have to wait. If I don't start these tests now, they won't be finished in time for your Valentine's dinner."

They turned and stared at him. He held up his hands. "Well, you'll have to feed him, Captain, and it is Valentine's Day, but you can call it what you want. Now, Commander, you stay there. And Captain, you come back this evening when you're finished."

"You'll call me if there're any problems?"

"Yes, I will."

Kathryn turned back to Chakotay. "I'll see you this evening." She paused, and looked at him with an unreadable expression. "I'll tell you what - I'll even cook you dinner." Before he could even try to formulate a response, she turned and walked out of Sickbay.

The Doctor stared after her with a stunned expression, probably mirroring his own. "It looks like you may be back here tomorrow, Commander."

Chakotay was inclined to agree.

The Doctor turned back to him. "Now, I realise you must be sick of sleeping, but I'll have to sedate you to run these tests. Try to relax."

He closed his eyes, and heard the low hiss of the hypospray. Then nothingness.

***

The darkness was heavy, shadows coiled around him; he couldn't move. Strange faces pressed close to him, whispering words he didn't understand. He knew he should recognise the faces, but they remained indistinct, nameless. There was only one name he could think of, but she wasn't there. He searched for her desperately in the crowd - still unable to move. He called her name.

Finally he saw her, distant, a pale figure behind the others. She held out her hand, he struggled to reach and grasp it, but someone was holding his arms. He couldn't breath; the shining figure seemed to recede.

"Kathryn!" he shouted, "Kathryn!"

"I'm here, Chakotay." Her voice was close, insistent. "I'm here. You're dreaming, wake up, Chakotay. Open your eyes."

He did.

He was in Sickbay. He swallowed, and took a deep breath. She was gazing down at him, looking relieved to see him awake. The Doctor was holding his arms, he must have been flailing in his sleep.

"Another nightmare," said the Doctor, releasing his arms and scanning him. "But there's nothing wrong with you, Commander. The tests are complete, you're perfectly fine."

"Do you remember what it was about?" asked Kathryn, softly. Chakotay shook his head, the dream had faded. "Not really. Just the usual kind of thing, I expect."

She nodded, and he knew she understood. All of the crew had nightmares for various reasons, it wasn't so uncommon. They all looked after each other; Chakotay often heard people discussing their dreams in the Messhall. He was in a slightly different position, of course. He'd offer support, but he rarely discussed his dreams with anyone other than Kathryn, and vice versa.

"Really, I'm fine. Thank you, Doctor." It was only then that the Doctor's earlier words registered. Another nightmare? Had this happened a lot over the past few days? He sat up and was just about to ask, when he noticed what Kathryn was wearing.

He stared.

He forgot what he'd been about to say. He forgot to breathe.

The dress was made from a dark red silken material, the colour of wine. Wine, spiced with the rich scent of dark fruit. He could almost taste it. The dress was long, floor-length, but had a slit up the side to allow easier movement. It was strapless, leaving her shoulders and collar bone bare. He marvelled at contrast between the dark silk and her pale skin. It was almost unnatural, as though she were made from marble rather than flesh. He swept his gaze up and down the length of the dress, carefully committing this image to memory.

He was interrupted by the sound of an alarm. Tearing his gaze away, he realised the sound was coming from the console by his biobed. The Doctor smirked at him, then input a few commands. The noise stopped, and the Doctor retreated to his office. Still, Chakotay winced. That had been less than subtle.

"So," he said, turning back to Kathryn. He felt his brain slowing again, and kept his gaze firmly on her forehead. "So. You've come from the party?"

"That's right," she said, folding her arms. "The Doctor called me so I came straight here instead of changing first. And yes, if you're wondering, the dress was part of the bet."

"Only part of the bet?"

She rolled her eyes and gave him an affectionate smile. "Can't get anything past you, even when you're recovering from a major head injury. Yes, it was only part of the bet. I also had to dance the salsa with Tom."

Chakotay blinked. Salsa. With Tom Paris. He wondered why there were no alarms sounding on the console.

Kathryn caught the look and laughed. "Come on Chakotay, it was only a dance. And he is married now, and a father, remember."

He knew that, but that didn't affect the knee-jerk response he had to the idea. With a physical effort, he released his death-grip on the sides of the biobed. "So how on earth did this happen? The bet, I mean."

She thought for a moment. "I should blame you, really. When the Doctor told us you were going to recover, Tom, Harry and Neelix suggested that they go ahead with the party they'd originally been planning. Everyone had been under stress, so I thought it would be a good chance for the crew to relax. Anyway, yesterday night I was dragged out of Sickbay and along to Sandrine's, where Tom and B'Elanna were arguing about some dance they were supposed to be performing at the party. Apparently she was objecting to his choice of outfits…"

Chakotay could see where this was leading, but just nodded.

"Later on, Tom and I were playing pool, and he was doing quite well. So well, in fact, that he bet he'd win the next game. I was convinced he wouldn't - so I joked that I'd put on that dress B'Elanna had refused to wear and dance the salsa with him if he won."

She paused and bit her lip. "The next thing I knew - and remember, I was in a severely sleep deprived state here - the bet had been made. Well, I wasn't overly worried, and the game went quite well at first. It got quite close at the end, and I was just going to pot the black when the Doctor hailed, and I missed the shot. He was just giving me an update on your status. But I'd missed the shot so it was Tom's turn, and he went ahead and won." She grinned. "So, obviously it was all your fault, for making me worry about you and lose the game."

"Clearly my fault," he agreed. "I suggest you put an official reprimand in my file." He looked thoughtful. "But wait, surely that wasn't fair? If you were hailed as you were taking the shot, they should have let you take it again."

"You forget, Chakotay, this is our crew we're talking about. They enjoy tormenting us. The so-called impartial referees thought it'd be more fun if I lost the bet, so they ruled in Tom's favour."

"What would you have got if he'd lost?"

"Replicator rations. I know it's boring, but I really need them right now."

"What, are there none left of mine to steal?"

"Basically, yes." She straightened her spine and looked around. "Anyway, I should probably go and get changed. I brought some of your clothes to Sickbay earlier, you can change here. Then I'll come and pick you up for dinner. Okay?"

Chakotay looked at the dress and spoke quickly. "But I'm hungry now. You needn't waste time changing."

He didn't fool her, but she let it pass. "Very well. Get dressed, then we'll leave."

Taking the clothes, he went to the bathroom and dressed quickly. Kathryn had chosen a loose white shirt and some dark pants. He ran his hand through his hair, then went and put his medical gown in the recycler.

Kathryn called the Doctor from his office. "Doctor, we're leaving now. Can you give Chakotay his cortical monitor?"

Damn. He'd forgotten about that. Still, if it meant he could escape from Sickbay, it was worth it.

Monitor in place, he let her guide him to the door. It was only once they'd left Sickbay that he remembered her promise about cooking.

***

"Where are we going? This isn't the way to my quarters."

She gave him a swift glance. "We're going to the Messhall, actually. Is that okay? I'm going to use Neelix's galley. There won't be anyone around."

"No, that's fine," said Chakotay. The Messhall would definitely be deserted - even the corridors were empty. Everyone was either at the party or on duty.

Kathryn filled him in on some of the details. Apparently the party was being held in the Holodecks rather than the Messhall because it was easier to decorate. The food had been prepared beforehand and taken down there by a select and trustworthy few. Neelix had spent the whole morning creating plates and plates of biscuits, cakes, and other Valentine's Day inspired delicacies, including an alarmingly pink drink called 'Love Punch'.

"I'm afraid I didn't bring you any to try," explained Kathryn, "But it did sound rather…"

"Violent?" suggested Chakotay, and she laughed.

"Yes, violent. In so many ways."

They arrived in the empty Messhall and Chakotay looked around with trepidation, "So you're serious about cooking for me, then?"

"Entirely serious," she replied, "But I didn't expect you to wait around while I cooked, I made everything this afternoon. Some of it's cold, but the rest can easily be reheated."

"You cooked this afternoon? While I was having those tests done?"

"Yes. There's nothing else interesting going on, and I'd caught up with my reports while in Sickbay."

"So you really cooked?" He looked half fearful, half impressed. Not many people persevered with something they were so blatantly bad at. He chuckled, "It's a good thing I'm wearing this monitor; that way the Doctor will immediately know if anything's wrong."

She gave him a look of mock hurt. "Hey, I don't land people in Sickbay!" She paused. "Often."

They laughed, and she went through to the galley and Neelix's stove.

***

An hour or so later, Chakotay was sitting looking at his empty ice cream bowl. He was full, but somehow found himself wondering if it would be very bad manners to lick out the bowl. It probably would. Kathryn had the habit of hitting him with her spoon whenever he displayed bad manners. He personally thought hitting someone with cutlery was equally bad, but Kathryn maintained it was 'discipline'.

"Did you like it?" she asked, breaking the silence. "It's one of my favourite recipes, but very simple. Coffee, milk, cream, sugar. Then some eggs and salt." He put down his napkin and gave her a hard stare.

"Okay. I'll admit it. That was delicious. Every course was delicious. But who actually made it?"

She grinned. "You think I'd ask some unsuspecting crewmember to make dinner, then lie about it?"

"That's exactly what I think."

"You wound me. But honestly Chakotay, I made this myself. Is it so difficult to believe a starship Captain can cook dinner?"

"No, but this is you we're talking about."

Her eyes took on a dangerous glint, the one that often preceded the words 'Battle Stations'. She smiled. "I'll prove it. I'll cook something for you right now. Anything. Go on, what shall I cook?"

"A soufflé," he said, calling her bluff.

But she merely smiled again. "Good idea. How about an apple soufflé? I'm quite partial to those. Now, the ingredients - I think I've got just enough rations left to cover them. Apples, eggs, sugar, some lemon rind… I forget. Computer, search the recipes library for 'Apple Souffle'."

"You're serious about this?"

"Entirely serious. Why would I use up my last coffee rations just to humiliate myself?"

He shook his head. "That certainly is unlike you. Okay, fine, I believe you. You needn't make the soufflé."

She looked faintly surprised. "Okay. But I might make it anyway at some point, it's ages since I've done so." She leaned towards him, her expression softening. "Anyway, Chakotay, how are you feeling?"

He lifted his hand to his forehead and touched the cortical monitor. "I hate wearing these things, but other than that, fine. Besides, you have to admit, this isn't the first time I've been in a shuttle crash."

Before she could reply, the door slid open. Ensigns Hickman and Ashmore walked in, then froze. Chakotay saw the scene through their eyes. The lights were low, and they were sitting at a small table, set with wine glasses, flowers, and candles. Candles. He felt like leaping up and explaining that this was just how Kathryn liked to set the table, but he managed to stay silent.

He glanced at Kathryn, and realised what she was wearing. A red, low cut dress. He wasn't in uniform either. And it was Valentine's Day. He suppressed a groan. Tom and the rumour mill would have a field day with this one. It didn't bother him so much any more, but he was acutely aware that it made Kathryn uncomfortable.

And whenever he thought they were giving up on the idea, something like this would set it all off again. Even his brief dalliance with Seven had only halted the speculation for a few weeks. Which had been the sole advantage of those few dates, come to think of it.

The Ensigns were still standing there, apparently incapable of entering or leaving the room.

Finally one of them - Ashmore - spoke. "Ah, Captain Chakotay, Commander Jane -" he paused, and coloured as he realised his mistake. "I - I'm sorry Commander, I mean Captain…"

Kathryn grinned and interrupted. "Really Ensign, didn't you get the memo? The mutiny isn't scheduled until tomorrow."

He blinked at her. "We just got off duty."

"Then you'll probably be looking for the party," suggested Chakotay. "It's being held on the Holodecks this time."

"Yes, thank you, Sir. Glad to see you recovered. And thank you, Ma'am, I mean, Captain. We'll be going now, hope you enjoy your date - your dinner, hope you enjoy your dinner. We'll just…"

They fled.

The Command Team looked at each other, and burst out laughing.

"How is it that we still manage to inspire such terror into our crew, even though we've all been on the same ship for eight years?" asked Kathryn finally. She frowned. "Or was it my dress? I realise it's not very…"

"You look lovely," said Chakotay, sincerely. "In fact, perhaps we should make it the new uniform?"

She considered this for a moment. "I can see the advantages. Most of them being that you'd also have to wear it."

He grinned. "As would Tom, and Harry. And Tuvok."

"I'll start making the necessary arrangements."

She finished the wine in her glass, and set it down on the table. "That was nice, but I wish there was some of that Antarian cider left."

"Who says there isn't?"

"Chakotay! Have you been withholding information from your Captain?"

"I have not."

"Look me in the eye when you say that."

He leaned forwards across the table, narrowly avoiding the candle, so close he could see himself reflected in her pupils.

"I - have - not."

The door swished open again, then there was the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. Chakotay's head whipped round just in time to see a small group of crewmen disappearing down the corridor. He leaned back in his seat; it wasn't difficult to imagine what they thought they'd interrupted.

Kathryn sighed. "Would you like to go back and have coffee in my quarters? Or yours? Or perhaps you're tired - you're supposed to be getting your strength back, remember?"

He shook his head, "I've spent the past few days sleeping, I'm really not tired."

She leapt to her feet, and starting clearing the table. "Good, me neither. Though coffee still seems like a good idea."

"It always does."

***

They sat side by side on the sofa, drinking coffee. They had been talking for a good while, but had finally lapsed into comfortable silence. Chakotay was feeling warm and peaceful. If he was honest with himself, it was at these times he was happiest.

When they finally reached home, it'd be these times he'd miss the most. Not exploring new worlds, discovering new phenomena, or even meeting new species, although he enjoyed all these things. Not the adventures he'd dreamed of while in the Academy - but evenings spent talking with his commanding officer. The woman who'd been sent to arrest him. Now that was a strange thought.

He must have looked distant, for Kathryn touched his arm and spoke. "What are you thinking?"

He was silent for a moment, trying to decide how to put his feelings into words that wouldn't give too much away.

She misinterpreted his silence. "Were you thinking about the shuttle crash?"

He shook his head, and turned to her. Seeing her expression, he immediately realised that was what she'd been thinking about. It shouldn't surprise him - although he brushed off such experiences quite lightly, it took her longer to move past his accidents. It was the same for him with her. Although she continually threw herself into peril, he'd be the one obsessing about what could go wrong.

He could still see the rings under her eyes from sleepless nights in sickbay. It wasn't the time for describing how much he'd miss her when this was all over. He should make her laugh, and forget those fears.

"Actually," he improvised "I was thinking about that meal you cooked. How is it that someone so… culinary-ly challenged… could prepare something like that?"

"Culinary-ly isn't a word," she pointed out, a smile playing round her lips.

"Inept, then," he suggested, grinning. "Incompetent, hopeless, unskilled…"

"It's a good thing you have dimples, because those are the only things preventing me from punching you at the moment."

"But seriously," he said, "Have you been taking lessons? What happened?"

"Nothing happened. I learnt to cook as a child. I've just been pretending I couldn't," she said, casually.

He stared at her. She sounded entirely serious, but it was impossible. It was as though she'd announced she'd just been pretending to like coffee.

"Come on Chakotay, I had a 'traditional' upbringing. They made us learn, whether we wanted to or not."

"But," he said, finding his voice. "Why have you been pretending you couldn't?"

"It was someone else's suggestion, actually. When I switched to Command, I made friends with a Captain, a woman who had served with my Father. She'd originally changed from the Science track, the same as me. She was both an excellent Captain and scientist, and I greatly admired her."

She paused, and took a sip of coffee.

"And although I'd often ask her for advice, there was only one thing she'd tell me. She knew that although I wasn't exemplary at one particular subject, there were very few things I had trouble with."

"You were good at everything."

"That's one way of putting it. And she was similar in that respect. But she told me that that crews were uncomfortable having a Captain with no obvious weaknesses, and recommended I develop one. It should be something that most people had no difficulty with, but it should also be something unimportant - something everyone knew would never affect my ability to command. Or to function in a hostile situation. For example, I couldn't develop a problem with warp mechanics, or a fear of heights. So I choose cooking."

"Naturally," said Chakotay, weakly.

"To tell the truth, I wasn't entirely convinced by her reasoning, but soon I realised just how useful it was to be bad at cooking. You see, it was something I could joke about with people, it put them at ease. I'd use it if I was having someone for dinner, and it looked like it was going to be a difficult evening. Often my guest was someone I needed help from, or co-operation, or someone I needed to trust me. So I'd invite them round, entirely destroy dinner, make them some sandwiches and we'd laugh about it. It was perfect for breaking the ice."

"You burnt dinner the evening you asked me to be your First Officer."

"Exactly. Or rather, I told you I'd burnt it and served sandwiches, because I didn't want to waste rations burning something. I only burn dinner when we can afford to." She grinned. "Incidentally, do you have any idea how difficult it is to ruin dinner with a replicator? Those things have thousands of fail-safes. I've sometimes had to resort to pulling it apart."

But Chakotay wouldn't be sidetracked. "You thought our meeting would be difficult?"

"Well, I wasn't sure. But I certainly needed your help. And your co-operation and trust, for that matter."

"Then it worked, I suppose." He smiled, "I'm not sure I would have agreed if you hadn't served sandwiches."

"I'm touched," she laughed. "And how different our lives might have been without them."

"Very different," he agreed, then shook his head in amazement. "But still! All those years you've been deceiving me. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, surely that's obvious?"

"It is? Why?"

She looked at him, her eyes large. "Because you've always insisted on cooking."

That was a point. He tried to school his features into a stern expression. "You have shamelessly taken advantage of my good nature for the past eight years. So why tell me now?"

She stopped laughing and gave him a curious look, one he couldn't quite read. "You're my best friend, Chakotay. I don't want to keep secrets from you. If I can't be truthful with you, who can I be?"

She turned and looked out at the stars. "The after the shuttlecrash, the Doctor wasn't sure if…" she trailed off, then visibly collected herself. "It wasn't long before he told me you ought to be fine, but I stayed in Sickbay anyway. It gave me the chance to think about some things that I'm usually too busy to dwell on. I realised ought to be more truthful with you - I hated the thought of you never knowing… some of the things I haven't told you. More serious than cooking."

He went completely still. It wasn't possible. Maybe he was misinterpreting her uncertainty. Or perhaps she had said more than she wanted to; it'd been a tiring and emotional few days. He didn't want her to tell him something she'd regret later.

"I don't think there can be any secrets more serious than that one," he said lightly, giving her the opportunity to retreat into humour if she wanted to.

"Well, I am married to Neelix," she deadpanned, and he realised she was acknowledging his offer. "But, no, seriously." She hesitated.

It was strange to see her this hesitant about anything. He moved closer, worried. "What is it, Kathryn? Is something wrong?"

She didn't look at him. "I didn't tell you about the cooking because it was difficult to know how to say it, after so much time had passed. It was easier on me, but unfair on you. And there's something else like that. Back on New Earth, you had a sandpainting you'd been working on for some time. One afternoon, while you were out, I accidentally dropped a book on it, and ruined it. I felt terrible, but by the time I saw you in the evening, I'd forgotten about it. Later, you said you assumed it was the monkey, and I didn't tell you otherwise. I still regret that."

"If that's the most serious thing you've kept from me, then that's not so bad," said Chakotay, feeling slightly confused. "Especially seeing as that was six years ago." He waited for her to continue, assuming she was using this story to illustrate some point, but she was silent.

"Kathryn, that really doesn't matter any more. The painting's gone, I don't care about it. That's all in the past now."

"I know that," she said, softly. "I know all that, but I wanted to tell you. And I want to tell you something else, despite all the same reasons. I know that this doesn't matter any more, I know it's in the past, and you probably don't care any more, but…" She gave him a small, sad smile. "I love you, Chakotay."

He stared at her. His mind went completely blank for a moment, then struggled to make sense of the words. Individually, he could understand each one. But together, they meant something so impossible, so miraculous, he initially rejected the idea. I love you, Chakotay. She still looked sad, almost resigned. She wasn't joking.

She meant it.

Time slowed. He saw the tears sparkling on her eyelashes, he saw the stars streaming past behind her. He felt as though this light had splintered his heart in two, warmth flooding out of its frozen core. She loved him. She loved him.

"You do?" he heard himself say, the last rational part of his mind needing confirmation.

"Yes, I do," she said, drawing herself up straighter. "And I realise that it's no longer relevant, but I just wanted you to -"

"Relevant?" he interrupted, taking her hand. "No longer relevant? Of course it's relevant! And what did you mean about my 'no longer caring'? Kathryn, it sounds like you're the one with the head injury, if you can believe for a second that I don't. Of course I care. I love you!"

"You love me?" she asked, with a bewildered expression.

"Yes!" This was madness, he'd never have guessed she'd need convincing. He'd always assumed everyone knew.

"Kathryn, clearly I do. I even passed on the chance to keep the Doctor company, just so I could be with you."

"A clear sign of affection," she whispered, smiling through her tears.

"But I'm sorry if you ever doubted it." His words rushed out in a torrent, all the things he'd never thought he could say.

"I became skilled at hiding it, because I thought that was what you wanted. Our friendship meant so much to me, I was willing to try anything. I even tried to move on a couple of times, but I couldn't do it. I was happy with our friendship - you'd drive me mad, but I was happy. Just being with you was enough. Not that I didn't sometimes wish for something more."

She held a finger to his lips. "Chakotay, I'm the one who should be sorry. At first I thought it was for the best - but by the time I changed my mind, I thought you'd moved on." They stared into each others eyes for a moment, then she dropped her hand and looked around.

"Computer, time."

"The time is 23.52."

"Damn," she said, "Do you know what this means? We confessed our love to each other on Valentine's Day. That is such a cliché. And the - "

"The betting pool. Of course." He chuckled. "I can't believe we're thinking about the betting pool in the middle of this conversation. But," he had a sudden thought, "I haven't asked you what this means. Do you want things to stay as they were, or do you want to act on this confession?"

She touched his arm. "I don't want things to stay as they were. And I assure you, I am completely lucid and rational right now, if that's what you're wondering."

"Or as rational as you'll ever be," he suggested. "Which is enough for me."

He lifted his hand and gently brushed the tears from her skin. She met his eyes, and he saw himself reflected in them, as he had earlier. Only this time, there was no table between them. He leaned forwards.

"Sickbay to Janeway."

They laughed, and bumped foreheads.

"Typical, " whispered Chakotay. "But at least it wasn't Tuvok this time."

Kathryn answered the hail. "Janeway here. What is it, Doctor?"

"I think perhaps you should bring the Commander back to Sickbay, I'm getting some strange readings from him. Do you know what might be causing them?."

"Want to go to Sickbay?" she whispered. He shook his head.

"Thank you Doctor, but Chakotay and I were having… a discussion, might that have affected the readings?"

"Well, I suppose so, but - "

"Are they life threatening, Doctor? Is there any risk?" asked Chakotay.

"No risk at all, I'm just curious about - "

"Then I'll stay here, thank you."

"As you wish. Did you enjoy dinner, Commander?"

They exchanged glances. "Let's just say I survived, Doctor, but you can probably tell that yourself. Now, why don't you go and enjoy the party?"

"I might do that. I could tell the computer to alert me to changes in your condition. But to tell the truth, if there were going to be any complications, they would have made themselves obvious by now. In fact, you may take off the monitor. Just make sure the Captain stays close by."

"She will," said Kathryn, "Now go to the party, Doctor. Janeway out."

Chakotay smiled. "Your secret's safe. The Doctor still has no idea you're an excellent cook."

"I'm better than excellent," she purred, "Just wait until you've had … dessert."

Her voice sent a shiver down his spine. He gave a quick prayer of thanks, for having the chance to serve with the only Starfleet Captain who purred.

"I look forward…" he began, then interrupted himself. "But Kathryn, we've already had dessert."

She arched an eyebrow at him.

He needed no further invitation. Very deliberately, he dropped the cortical monitor into his coffee cup. He leaned towards her.

"I was wondering, Kathryn…"

"Hmm?" she answered, tilting her head back and exposing her neck.

He licked the pale skin up to her jaw, then brought his mouth level with her ear.

"Is there any of that ice cream left?"

The End.

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