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The molecular cohesion of the… of the… Focus!
Where was I? Oh, yes, the warp coils are… are…
Shit! C’mon, Janeway! Get yourself together! The gel packs…
AGH! Fuck this! Throwing the useless PADD down with a thud on the coffee table, Kathryn lets her head fall to her chest and heaves a big sigh.
She had been reading - or at least attempting to read - the same PADD for the past half hour with no luck. From the get go, the words blended and stuck together like cement in her brain, growing heavier as each minute ticked by.
Lifting her chin, she stares at the door for the umpteenth time, her curiosity stinging the back of her mind at Chakotay’s whereabouts. Just before leaving her Ready Room a few hours prior, he asked her if he could make dinner for her, but she politely declined with the wave of her hand and one foot already out the door.
Just as she was about to ran out of the room, she remembers looking back.
Big fucking mistake.
My god, his eyes…
Confusion muddled in with – dare I say it – heartbreak spilled out onto his features reminding her yet again of both her deceit at keeping a certain plan from him as well as the several times she’s had to decline his offer of companionship.
Fuck, no! This is my job. I can’t get all teenage girl dramatic when it comes to doing what’s best for the crew. He knows that. He might not like it, but he knows it.
Standing up and pacing the well worn path she normally takes when her mind is jumbled with crowded thoughts, she finds that her eyes still cast towards the door.
She sighs, with our run-in with the Kazon and the rescue of Tom Paris under our belt, I half expected him to barge in to my Ready Room demanding to speak to me about the injustice of keeping everything a secret. But he didn’t.
He was and is a model first officer. Despite his feelings on the matter, he made sure that everything was underway and that all systems were in check.
And then he asked me to have dinner with him.
I had to say no, just like all the other times he has asked since my subsequent talk with a certain peeping Vulcan.
Abruptly stopping, the memory of her conversation with Tuvok replays like a broken record in her mind.
“You will need to remain objective to the people around you so that you can stay resilient against the sway he and others like him can use to gain the upper hand.”
“Your strong, illogical romantic feelings are clouding your judgement.”
“I understand your need to associate yourself with a male on board, however, in my opinion, choosing him to satisfy those needs would be highly illogical and dangerously naïve.”
So, in every effort to show her friend and trusted advisor that he can once again rely on her judgement, she purged Chakotay from her personal life. Every night, she made the conscious decision to walk into her lonely quarters. Every night, she would repeat in her mind over and over again that it was for the best. Every night, she would tell herself that this is the life she deserved after stranding Voyager seventy thousand light years away.
But this night is different. She begins her pacing once more.
She did the usual things to help occupy her mind from thinking about him; she read a book, I barely made it through two pages; she took a bath, which lead to more sinful thoughts about him; and she decided to catch up on some reports that she had been putting off for quite a while, I couldn’t even get through one goddamn report!
No, it was his damn eyes. His normally warm, chocolaty eyes staring at me through every distraction I could get my hands on, begging me to tell him why I have so abruptly pulled away from him.
Guilt can be a nasty bitch when you let it fester, a shadow crosses along her soul.
Anticipation, biting and sharp, sits heavily on her shoulders as she rubs her two finger together.
Quickly, before she can stop herself, she taps her comm badge and asks, “Computer, location of Commander Chakotay.”
“Commander Chakotay is located in his quarters.” The lilt of the computer’s seemingly serene voice fades as she heaves a sigh of relief.
Stupid! Who fucking cares! This is for the best for yourself and this crew.
The shadow now taking the form of a dark figure, hooded and obscured from view, crawls out from his corner in her soul. Closing her eyes, her vision becomes opaque, sinister, as he grins from underneath his hood. You trapped these people so far from home. How selfish of you to carry on a relationship when those around you are suffering.
Hello darkness, my old friend... I was wondering when you were going to make your appearance.
Shaking her head, she turns towards her bedroom. A sharp shiver crawls up her spine at the sight of her cool, modest bed. You don’t deserve a man to warm your bed. Divesting herself of her robe, she slips under the covers and waits for sleep to never come.
Just as her eyes heavily close, a chime rings through her quarters, instantly setting the gears in her mind into overdrive.
It’s him, her mind screams.
And as much as she tells herself to ignore it, the brisk Captain in her yells rather loudly that she needs to man up and tell him of her decision.
With her new resolve climbing along her spine, she gets up out of bed and slips on her robe before walking up to the door. Taking a deep breath to further her confidence, she presses the button to admit him in.
You have got to be fucking kidding me! Chakotay’s eyes rake along the silky path of her robe as the alcohol he just consumed to help get him to this door pounds against his eardrums.
She can literally taste the charge of energy radiating from his body. A rush of desire – carnal and wild – assaults her weakened body, puckering her skin, enticing him to reach out to touch her.
There, under the flimsy sheen of her silky nightgown and robe, he sees her nipples harden under his stare. Fuck! Get over this, Chakotay! Walk in, say what needs to be said and leave. “I need to come in.” Not even waiting for an answer, he waltzes in. In such a rush to get what he has been wanting to say to her off his chest, he brushes up against her and for the second time in as many seconds, the anger that has been choking him sizzles into a passion his body is begging to resolve.
Feeling the charge of their combined chaotic energy electrocuting the dense air, her body trembles as apprehension teeming with lascivious power dominates over her will to remain stoic. Come on, Kathryn. You need to fight through this. Otherwise, someone will catch on. Bracing her hands on her hips, she calls out to him, “What is it you needed to see me with at such a late hour, Commander?”
The use of his title reignites his fury that has been pitching and churning against his chest for the past few days. For the past month in a half he has taken her new found cold shoulder in stride. It confused the hell out of him, but he had told her that he was patient, and I am, but she just plain refuses to see me.
Then he found out about the ruse to flush out the traitor and how he had to ‘play his part’. Fury doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt, but I once again buried them all for the sake of her... until now. “I don’t like playing the part of a fool, Kathryn.”
“No one thinks you are a fool, Commander.”
There goes my rank again. “Bullshit! You’ve been pulling away from me ever since you returned back from that one planet with Tom Paris.” Swallowing past his own jealousy, he asks through gritted teeth, “Are you seeing someone else?”
Pure shock paralyzes her from the roots of her hair down to the tips of her toes. He thinks that I want to be with someone else? Who? Who the hell else would I share as much information about myself as I have with him? She closes her eyes and takes a long, deep breath. “I’m not seeing anyone else.”
“Then how else can you explain this… this…,” fuck, man! Get yourself together! “You have been ignoring me.” Just as he sees her opening her mouth, ready to defend her actions, he clarifies with the thrust of his finger through the palatable air between them, “And I don’t mean on the bridge. Every time I have asked you out for dinner, you evade me as if I’m the bloody plague.”
Standing tall, she juts her chin out, “I’ve been busy, we all have been.” My excuse sounds weak and stupid. I’ll be surprised if he takes it at face value.
“You, know, I thought the traitor was going to be your excuse, not that.” He throws his hands into the air out of frustration, “What the fuck do you want, Kathryn?”
“We just can’t do this and you know it.” She crosses her arms tightly along her chest. “We should just leave it as is and move on with what is really important, which is getting both of our crews home safely.”
“At the expense of what, Kathryn, your own sanity?” At the stubborn tilt of her head, he sighs, “Fine, if this is what you truly want, then I will obey.” Pausing, he studies her intently, trying to find any hint of relief. When he sees the tiny muscles along the corner of her mouth tense, he hastily adds, “Just let me kiss you, one more time and I want you to tell me, with one hundred percent certainty, that we should leave this.”
Pressing her lips into a fine, white line, she rolls her eyes skyward, weighing in her mind what she should do. Even now I can’t tell him with one hundred percent certainty, how will I be able to after this kisses.
The darkness, under his oppressive dark lining, gives her a sinister smile. Lie, he simply tells her. Lie with every inch of your disgusting heart. Break his soul so that he will cower from you, like all the men before him.
Breathing in the confidence needed to pull of such a feat, she looks at him under the hood of her ice cold, indifference eyes and says, “That won’t change my mind, but if you insist, then–”
Whatever else she was going to say gets lost when he crashes his lips against hers. Capturing her waist with the curve of his arm around her small figure, he threads his aching fingers through her messy hair.
Arching her back so that her breasts deliciously rubs against the solid mass of his chest, she throws her arms around his neck, deepening their already sizzling kiss. Intoxicated by the warmth of his body, the sting of alcohol along the tip of his devilish tongue drives her mad with desire.
Abruptly pulling away, he lays his forehead against hers, and drunkenly murmurs, “Tell me to stop, Kathryn, and I will.” Leaning in and peppering her nose and cheek with soft, indelible kisses, he huskily adds, “I don’t think you want me to stop, do you?”
The darkness inside her that has been drawn away by the delectable taste of Chakotay’s lips, stands back out from its shadow with a mischievous grin upon his gnarled face. Pull away, Kathryn. Show him who is boss. Stomp on his heart with the might of your proud Starfleet heel.
“No,” shutters out from her parched, sinful lips, yet Chakotay is there to quickly capture them. Melting into his body – his heavenly warm body – she rejoices when the darkness from within her soul flinches back to his small, insignificant corner.
“Oh, Kathryn,” Chakotay moans as his lips trail down her jaw and onto the sweetest spot on her neck.
His voices rumbles all the way down to the pit of her stomach. Tilting her head to the side, she closes her eyes as she takes in all of the blessed sensations his lips create.
Your strong, illogical romantic feelings are clouding your judgement.
Those words – those damn logical words – tumble through her mind, snapping her into attention and pushing herself out of his tender arms back into cold embrace of her loneliness. “You need to leave.”
Chilly, recycled air washes over him and, for a moment, he feels as if he is discombobulated. “Why?”
Staring at his lips – his sweet, cherrywine lips that felt so good against my skin – the darkness sweeps its hood off to reveal that it has taken the form of her Vulcan friend. Closing her eyes, she tries with all of her might to erase the image, to purge his words from her mind. “Just… just leave, Commander.”
He takes a small step towards her, trying to understand the changes of moods, but she defensively holds both of her hands up to stop him, effectively pushing him away.
Go for the kill, Kathryn, the darkness sneers. “And if you decide to come to my quarters drunk with the sole purpose to assault me, then I will have no choice but to send you to the brig for conduct unbecoming of an officer.” Utterly exhausted and bitterly disgusted at how hard she has to push him away, she turns away from him and murmurs, “Now leave.”
Feeling empty and dejected, he silently curses himself at the damage he has caused by coming to her quarters. Crushing the overwhelming desire to reach out and touch her, he beseeches, “I don’t know what has caused you to push me away with such animosity, but I promise you, I will not topple easily. You want this just as much as I do, the Starfleet rule book be damned.” He shakes his head, “I refuse to walk away from what we can have, not when I have tasted your lips and have been comforted by your arms.”
Noticing the rigid muscles in her back soften, he offers, “When you have found that you crave this fire just as much as I do, I would like to have you over for dinner.” Tracing his steps back to the door, he gently calls out, “Good night” before walking out into the brightness of the corridor.
Just as he steps beyond her barrier when he hears a whispered, “Good night,” when the door closes behind him.