Actions

Work Header

All Hallows' Eve, Only Hallows' Eve

Summary:

The inevitable collision of two idiots in love during Voyagers Spooktacular Halloween Party!
A Halloween Gift for my dear Rell, Trek or Treat! :D

Notes:

I sat down to write a lil' gift for my girl Rell (incredible author, amazing friend, and prime Star Trek dealer) and this is what happened!
Thanks for betaing this deary (and still acting surprised when I post it :-P) annnnd a big Happy Halloween to anyone reading! If you enjoy it I do hope you'll think about leaving a lil' review - they make my life! :D

Work Text:

 

“We have a similar celebration on Talax you see, of course that involves a twelve day feast of roast thill and - you'll really love this Mr Vulcan - on the third day an eligible man is chosen, greased up and made to-”

“Excuse me, I have just remembered a task of great importance I must now urgently attend to.”

“But I haven't gotten to the best bit yet- excuse us captain-”

“By all means, enjoy your night,” Kathryn waved them away, watching Neelix pursue her chief of security across the crowded bar with barely restrained laughter. Thinning her lips to hide her smile she retreated to the edge of the room, finding a more secluded spot to enjoy the night's festivities.

It had been Tom’s idea, a throw back mid-twentieth century Halloween Party, replete with period accurate decor and mandatory costumes for the attendees. She had signed off on it in a heartbeat, the crew deserved a little morale boost after some of their most recent trials and tribulations, and they all had seemed to get well and truly into the spirit of the event. The newly programmed dance club was packed with skeletons, pirates, clowns, and devils. Even B’Elanna had joined in, her chief engineer donning her old marquis uniform and claiming it was the closest she was going to get.

Kathryn reached up to adjust the elastic of her flight goggles, pushing them up on top of her head so she could better survey the scene. From here she could enjoy it all without making anyone uncomfortable. Her senior crew were one thing, but she was still very aware of her position and its inevitable effect on the others. God only knows how awkward her own ensign-era parties would have been if the top brass had been there, and stuck as they were seventy five years from home there wasn’t exactly anywhere they could go to escape her.

Their laughter washed over her from afar, music pulsing up through her feet as she surveyed her crew. The overhead lights washed over their laughing faces as they danced beneath some sort of large mirrored sphere.

It was moments like this, in the quiet space between pockets of life and laughter, that she most keenly felt the weight of her own position. The separation that must always exist between herself and the ones she cared about most.

Something in her chest twisted, an old ache she tried to convince herself had long since healed over. She didn't have time to be lonely, couldn't afford it, not with a crew looking to her to lead them home through the proverbial storm.

This was her burden, hers alone, even if sometimes she wished...

The thought was pushed firmly aside as a figure emerged from the crowd, edging his way awkwardly through the couples and waving as he caught sight of her.

It was funny how he always seemed to find her when she was most in need of company, dragging her out of her self indulgent thoughts with his lopsided smile.

“There you are, Captain,” Chakotay made for a conspicuous figure in his Starfleet uniform, almost knocking over a small table as he joined her in her corner.

“Not tonight,” she corrected him, gesturing to her costume, “I was promised an evening as someone else, and I intend to enjoy at least… oh, thirty minutes of it before the next disaster.”

“Hmm, let me start again then,” he smirked, an unexpected heat rising her cheeks as he looked over her outfit, dark eyes searing through her when they met hers again at last, “there you are… mid 20th century pilot?”

“Close,” she tapped the embroidery over her breast pocket, “Amelia Earhart.”

“Ah,” he nodded,“I should have known. Very accurate.”

He reached up to adjust her flight scarf, the corners of his eyes crinkling just so and making her heart stutter inappropriately.

“And you have come dressed as…” she made a show of perusing his costume, eyes fixing for just a little longer than was strictly necessary on the strong lines of his shoulders as she cleared her throat, “a Starfleet officer. How original.”

“I haven't had a chance to change yet, Tom impressed upon me the importance of getting here early for Harry's… performance.”

“Ah yes, the lost bet. I'm told it will be quite the spectacle.”

“I'm sure,” he paused, his sudden sharp exhale ghosting over her cheek and reminding her just how close they'd drifted again. Always too close and yet she never moved away, there was something so solid about him. So real. Her gaze drifted up, focusing in on his in the half darkness and making her forget herself, “Kathryn, I-”

Whatever he was about to say was silenced as the music died down, a blinding spotlight landing in the centre of the dance floor where Tom had cleared a space, skeleton mask hitched up on his forehead.

She told herself it was for the best, dragging her attention away as she tried to calm the sudden racing of her pulse. It was all highly unprofessional of her.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Tom had gotten hold of an old fashioned microphone from somewhere, relishing in the attention as he addressed the gathering and giving Katheryn time to catch her breath, “boys and ghouls!” the crowd groaned, “It's the most Hallowed Eve of the year, the night where veil between the worlds is at their thinnest, where you can be anyone who want, with anyone you want,” a series of whistles and cheers interrupted him, sending fresh heat spiralling into her cheeks, “and if you're really lucky do anything you want. Which is why tonight we have a very special treat for you… Club Skeleton’s is proud to present, for one night only, the eclectic dance stylings of… Ensign… Harry… Kiiiiiiim!”

A heavy beat picked up as poor Harry appeared, face sheepish under the bright lights as the crowd’s attention focused in on him. He was dressed a torn red jacket and seemed to be in some sort of state of decay along with his handful of holographic back up dancers. As the crowd cheered the dancing started, Kim blushing as he dutifully executed a strange series of jerky moves and shuffling as a late-20th century artist sang about it being a ‘thriller’.

“Well that's…”

“I know,” she agreed before bursting out laughing, “although, he really is rather good.”

“Maybe you should promote him to Dance Officer?”

“Don’t tempt me,” she chuckled, her grin softening to a wistful smile as she watched the excitement, “it's good to see them like this, they deserve a little happiness.”

“And you?” His voice lowered, her gaze darting back to him as he pressed closer. Her mouth ran dry as his fingers brushed the back of her hand, the dancing forgotten in the sudden proximity.

It was happening again. Like it inevitably did. Like two planets trapped in orbit drifting closer and further, never to meet. Because if they did it could only end in one way.

Catastrophe.

Inevitable yes, but impossible to remember sometimes. Like now, on the best kind of day, against the backdrop of cheers and laughter. In this place they could be anyone, two strangers at a party. Old friends. So much more. And then again on the worst days, the days she knew were still to come. When bad decisions would have to be made and worse consequences faced, then it would be all she could do to keep herself from sinking into him entirely. Begging him to hold her up, just for a moment. Just long enough to keep the pressure from crushing her entirely.

He would do it too. Willingly. Openly. Ready to help shoulder her burden, to share her life.

It felt as if her heart had stopped entirely as he grasped her hand in earnest, calloused fingers twisting in hers as she had to remind herself to breathe. It would be so easy to cross that final line, to allow herself this. A partner. A soul mate. Even if only for a moment.

But she couldn't.

Wouldn't.

She was the Captain, no matter what costume she wore, it was a position she loved, that she took the utmost pride in. Even if it meant that she must face life alone.

Even if meant she could never close that final gap that separated them, the few scant inches that might as well have been a mile.

“Commander-” she dropped her gaze, guilt twisting her ribs tighter and tighter until she feared they might break as she tried to make herself pull away.

Like she always did.

He cut her off with a sigh, his free hand rising to gently grasp her chin, tilting her face back up to his. Forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Half an hour as someone else, you said,” he murmured beneath the heavy music. Each word was electric, like he'd plucked a string along her spine.

“I did,” she heard herself agree, not realising she had reached for him until she felt the smooth fabric of his uniform under her palm. Wondering if his heart was racing half as hard as hers was beneath it. “But-”

“What was it Tom said?” He was close enough that she could count the flecks in his irises now, see the detail in each line and swirl of his tattoo. “The one evening of the year where the walls between the realms are thinnest.”

She realised dimly his hand had dropped to the curve of her waist, scorching through the fabric and down to her bones as she sank her teeth into her lip.

“Where you can be anyone you want...” she murmured.

“With anyone you want.” There was such feeling in his voice she thought she might wilt beneath it.

The distance between them shrank, planets in orbit again, caught in each other's gravity as they shared each breath. She realised then that, although he'd pushed this far, one way or another it would be up to her to break it.

To pull back or to let them collide.

Stretching upwards she closed the last inch between them, capturing his lips with hers and hoping the catastrophe was worth it.

In her heart she knew it would be.