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Gripping the neck of the bottle tightly, Kathryn eyes the empty corridor for any crew members. Finding it bare anytime she cautiously turns a corner, she counts down the number of steps until she reaches his quarters.
32, 31, 30, 29…
The beating of her heart is erratic against her chest, her fear of being caught causing her to quicken her pace.
17, 16, 15, 14...
Their relationship, delicate from the moment he accepted becoming her First Officer, has to be cultivated in trust both professionally and personally – especially now that it's going to take us over seventy years to get home.
4, 3, 2, 1…
Standing nose to nose to his door, she looks both ways down the corridor to find that it is still quiet. I am being ridiculous, she rolls out her shoulders and takes a deep breath. Pressing the chime to his temporary quarters, she fiddles with her communicator as the door opens. Facing the man that has been both her rock on the bridge and a thorn in her side, she lifts her chin with a small smile. "Good evening."
Surprise shimmering in his eyes, yet he quickly steps back and invites her in with the flick of his wrist. “Please, come in.” She takes exactly five steps in. “What can I do for you, Captain?”
Quickly turning, she holds up her free hand, “I left my rank at the door. I am here merely as a friend.” She holds up the unopened bottle of Andorian Simmering Whiskey as a peace offering. “Please, I insist you call me Kathryn.”
Stepping over to his replicator, he holds up two glass tumblers and quips, “If you promise to leave the ship's duties along with your rank.”
Mesmerized by his charming dimples, she silently nods and returns her focus to opening the bottle. Popping the cork, they meet in the middle next to the table. She immerses herself in the spicy scent of the whiskey as she concentrates on making sure they both have equal amounts.
He hands her a glass after she places the bottle on the table. “To Voyager’s safe passage home.”
“Safe passages.” Their glasses clink before they each take a sip. Closing her eyes, she finds brief solace in its burning path down her throat. Slowly opening her heavy lids, she gently gives her new companion a smile as the taste of spices still dances upon her tongue. “I have been saving this bottle for a few years. I received it from my old captain when I earned my rank as commander.” Glancing at the bottle fondly, she adds, “It seemed fitting for this occasion.”
“And what is the special occasion?” His eyes glitter with mischief, a coy smirk drawn along his lips. He knows exactly why they are celebrating.
“Our first joint decision as the new command team after a disagreement.” His brow cocks in mock surprise. “B’Elanna Torres will be the new chief engineer.” Slowly his smile widens, his dimples becoming more pronounced. Mesmerized by them, she hastily looks away.
“That is a good reason to celebrate,” he cheerfully quips.
As a bulky silence settles over them, she stares at her empty glass as she catches her bottom lip between her teeth. I've come in good faith and told him of my news. I should lea-
“You know, I've had this whiskey before.” She tilts her chin up to see him grinning at her curiosity. “I remember when I was a boy, my father had this in a cabinet under his desk. I never saw him drink it, but it was unopened. One night, I became curious and took a rather large sip. It wasn't enough that it burned my throat going down; however, once it reached my belly, my body instantly rejected it.” His slight laugh is contagious. “My father said that the miserable feeling of it coming back up was punishment enough.”
Just like a flick of a switch, her tense muscles relax under the amusement of his anecdote. “If you are still traumatized," her voice is playful to match the mood, "then I can trade this in for something… oh, I don't know,” dramatically shrugging her shoulders, “fruity and light?”
Throwing his head back and laughing, he reaches for the bottle and invites her to sit on the couch with a flick of his wrist.
For one tiny second, she considers declining his offer, yet a small voice, one that has remained quiet since destroying the Caretaker's Array, encourages her to enjoy this moment, to savor in the comradery within the privacy of his quarters. While technically I was sent after to capture him, I am glad that he is willing to share this moment with me. Bowing her head in thanks, she makes her way to his sitting area.
Following behind her, he playfully beseeches, “I would never decline something light and fruity.” He settles down next to her on the loveseat and refills her glass. "I have had many lucky nights when paired with a light and fruity wine or cider."
Feeling a relaxed giggle erupt from her lips, she relishes as a curious bubble of elation helps to relax her normally rigid body. It feels so good to laugh. “Thank you for inviting me in.”
His kind smile reaches up to his eyes. “I want us to be comfortable and trustworthy around each other. I've learned the hard way how important it is for a captain to keep the boundaries professional between them and their crew members in order to run a productive ship. In saying that, there is no one for you to be at ease with. While I am still your second in command outside of these doors, I want you to know that inside my quarters – or yours for that matter – we can just simply exist as friends rather than colleagues.”
Genuinely touched by his offer of peace and friendship, she leans forward and gently pats his knee. “While I am not sure if I would be able to be here every evening, I do appreciate the offer.”
He lays his palm over her hand. "The offer will always stand."
Feeling an undercurrent of something strange sizzling along her skin, she is quickly reminded of the evening he agreed to become her first officer. For some reason, she had become lightheaded and he had captured her shoulder in response. It was then, so weak and undefined, she felt a zing of something. At first, she thought it was her heightened emotions not mixing well with her exhaustion that catapulted her doubt into a visible vulnerability. Now, though, as she feels that same shimmer of electricity, she wonders if it's something more. For barely a second, a flash of darkness sweeps through her heart. Not wanting to fall headfirst into a deep sea of blackened obscurity she had fought tooth and nail to climb out of many years ago, she gives him a tight smile and slips her hand out from under his. Silence strums between them as they finish their drinks. “I will be marking B’Elanna’s new position in the ship's log tomorrow morning.”
Pride instantly fills his chest. “She will not let you down.”
She absently runs the tip of her finger along the edge of her glass. “I know.”
Once again, silence permeates their fledgling friendship. She knows that she should leave his quarters, duties to perform, specs and reports to read, and crew records to evaluate are all tugging her mind in many different directions. Yet, something soft and invisible stops her from standing up and, instead, beseeches her to enjoy the peace and quiet.
“Do you have family back home?” His voice is delicate to her ears.
Resting her elbow on the back of the couch, she holds her chin as she stares at the mass of dark, starry space in front of her. “My mother who lives on the farm in Indiana and my sister who lives wherever the wind takes her." She lifts her brow and playfully quips, "You saw her picture.” His quiet laugh helps to keep her afloat as her heart drowns at the good memories of her family. And sweet, sweet Mark. “My fiancé Mark and our dog, Molly, who was just about to give birth to her puppies the day we left for the Badlands, lives in San Francisco.” Her voice carries softly across the room as the memory of their last night together flitters through her mind. Mark wanted to take his time to make love to her while she insisted on getting it done quickly. If I knew that that was going to be our last time together for a long while, then I would have taken all the time in the world to show him just how much I love him rather than a quick fuck with the sole purpose to get back to my crew assignments. Shame and desire tingles along her cheeks as she clears her throat. “What about you?”
“Both my mother and my father passed away a few years ago and the rest of my family has scattered with the Cardassians conquering our home planet. Since then, the Maquis have been my family." She sees wistfulness and a slice of melancholy within his eyes. A far cry from the anger I had seen when we first met. "With most of them here with us, the pang of missed loved ones doesn't quite fill my heart as it does with others. However, seeing the desperation of all the other crew members – including you – to get back home, it encourages me to focus on the prime mission at hand.” He reaches for the bottle and refills both of their cups.
Feeling the weight of her glass becoming heavier at the sound of liquid cascading, she slowly glances at his peaceful face. For the first time since marooning both of their crews here, an overwhelming sense of loneliness reaches out and strangles her. Tracing the intricate lines of his tattoo with her eyes, she tries to convince herself to stand and to leave. There are many things I still have to do before I can even think about sleep. Instead, she takes a small sip, the spicy aroma enveloping her like a warm hug and quieting her thoughts. With her mind and body relaxed, the image of snuggling against his broad chest teases her.
I shouldn't, she gently admonishes herself. Yet, again, instead of excusing herself, she takes another sip.
Within the span of one heartbeat, their eyes match; all of the stress placed upon her shoulders, all of the qualms she had fought against herself with relaxing in his quarters, melts away as she loses herself within his chocolatey brown eyes. The air becomes stagnant, tempestuous. A desire to touch him presses against her chest, the tips of her fingers prickling as she fantasizes about tracing her nails along his tribal tattoo.
You promised him. The darkness of her mind conjures an image of Mark the last time she had returned from a mission, the heartbreak simmering in his eyes at her unfaithfulness.
Looking off to the side, she silently admonishes herself for putting herself in a situation that she should never find herself in. Tipping the rest of the whiskey down and reveling in the way that it sears her guilt along the lining, she places the glass on the table in front of them and stands. "I have to get going."
He stands as well.
Still clearing her mind of the fuzziness, she holds out her hand and clears her throat. “Well, Commander,” she inhales when she feels his grip tightening, a fluttering of desire flushing within her belly. She gives him a small smile. “Chakotay, thank you for your hospitality.”
“The pleasure was mine." His smile blossoms along his cheeks. "Thank you for providing the drink and thank you for giving Torres a chance. Your decision soothes any qualms I have about Starfleet, even though I know you made your decision on merit rather than loyalty.” Just as she relaxes her grip to pull her hand away, he takes a step forward and murmurs, “My doors are always open if you need a place to relax and not be the only Starfleet Captain in this quadrant.”
Under the spell of both his proximity and his coffee colored eyes, she finds herself saying, “The same goes for you as well.”
“Then how about, as a celebration for finishing crew rankings and assignments, you come over for dinner?” Panic prickles against her scalp. “Just a mere forum for you to let go of your captain's mask for an hour or so." The lines of his dimples soothes her. "Time and ship permitting of course.”
Her mind screams at her that she should reject his friendship, that she doesn't deserve it, not with the choices she had made that had trapped them so far away. Yet, it's her heart that quiets her reluctance. Surprisingly, it's Mark's voice that helps to quiet the darkness of her soul. 'You deserve many things Katie, loneliness is not one of them.' Before she begins to overthink it, she gives him a genuine smile. “That would be lovely, time and ship permitting.” Turning away from him and marching towards the door as fast as decorum will allow, she turns back to him once she reaches it and thanks him again. “And please keep the whiskey, I insist.”
Walking around her to the other side of the door, he releases the hold and lets it slide open. “Thank you, Kathryn,” he murmurs with a bow of his head.
At the sound of someone letting out a small cough in front of them, both shake the hazy rose coloring from their eyes and glance over to see who it is.
Seska, with a look of utter disbelief stinging her sharp features, folds her hands on the sides of her hips and momentarily sizes her up with her cool, indifferent eyes. “Chakotay," her voice is cutting, "I needed to speak to you about the transporters.”
Hearing the anger in her voice, she looks to Chakotay to see his warm eyes now tense with aggravation. “I'll let you both get to it. Commander, I will see you on the bridge at 0700 hours.” Walking past the Bjorn female, she nods again, “Ensign,” and counts the steps until she can disappear around the corner.
Pure rage rushes through her veins as she watches the insufferable and idiotic Captain walk away. Hating Starfleet for as long as she can remember, disgust coats her tongue at the thought of Chakotay saying her first name with such… admiration. Rolling her eyes at his foolish behavior, she rushes past him into his quarters before he can turn her away, her senses on high alert. "I can't believe it," she spits when his door closes, whiskey and the lust permeating her nostrils. “You're fraternizing with the enemy.” Her words are cold and malice against the spice that still lingers in the air. “Do I really need to tell you to keep it in your pants?” She throws the PADD on the table with a loud clank before turning to face him.
"Report, ensign."
What a monotonous robot! She allows herself to drink in the delectable way his body fills in his garish uniform. But, still... Her own desire tinges her cheeks as the thought of sex fuels her next step. Slinking her arms around his shoulders, she presses her body against his and murmurs heavily into his ear, “You know you can always come to me if you are feeling lonely.” She lightly licks the curved edge of his ear, just the way he likes it. “I remember all the secret places you liked to be touched.”
Sensing him shiver, she is quite surprised when he grabs her wrists and takes a step back. “That will not be necessary, ensign.”
Forcefully pulling her hands out from his strong ones, her desire to have him between her legs quickly dissolves into animosity. “So you would rather give in to that Starfleet bitch who marooned us here?”
Without even a second to react, he roughly grabs her arms. “Watch yourself, ensign.” He steps into her personal space and he hisses, “If I so much as hear you or anyone else breath a harmful and despicable word towards our new captain, I will personally make sure that you see nothing but the white plain walls of the brig on our long journey home.” This is the Chakotay she prefers; rough, man-handling hands and his straightforwardness. “Do I make myself clear?”
Relishing in the pain he is bombarding her with, she sweetly smiles, “Crystal. However, be careful, Chakotay. You may have fallen under her bewitching spell, but the rest of us aren't that easily persuaded. If you won't stick up for us, then maybe we will need to find a new leader to take the charge for the Maquis.” The aggressive and shrewd genes she had inherited from her father rushes through her, the electricity of the power she can yield prickling against the tips of her fingers.
“Mutiny will never be tolerated on this ship by her or me; which is why I am moving your position from the bridge to Engineering effective immediately. Make your choices Seska and make them wisely. You will be surprised on which side of the aisle your supposed friends will fall on all for the sake of survival and freedom.”
Forcefully stepping out of his tight reign, she lets her fingers caress the heat of his cheek as she smartly grins in the way she knows will get under his skin, "Yes, well if word got out that you are fucking the Captain’s brains out, you might not have a lot of people on your side either.” Turning, she sashays out of his quarters with the flick of her hips and a damning smile adorning her lips.