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Chapter Text

The beeps coming from the monitors hooked up to Kathryn Janeway steadied. Regular intervals. It was a beautiful monotony.

The three days before had been a jumbled blur of loud alarms and shrill beeps that jangled the nerves of whoever was sitting with Kathryn in the moment. They had taken turns – her mother Gretchen, her sister Phoebe, B’Elanna Torres, Tom Paris, and, most often, Chakotay. He had volunteered for more shifts than anyone else. And when it was someone else's turn, he often stuck around. Supposedly to keep the other volunteer company.

Truth was, he didn't want to leave her side. It took the full force of Gretchen Janeway's ire to get him to go home for naps and showers.

"I don't want Kathryn waking up to a dirty, unshaven, exhausted face," she firmly announced as she pushed him out the hospital room. He went home for a shower and a long nap, but he didn't like it.

The first few days after the shuttle accident had been terrifying. Kathryn had suffered internal injuries, including a collapsed lung, and had broken nearly 20 bones. The worst injury had been to her head -- a cracked skull and deep concussion. The Doctor had spent a good four hours operating on her. He repaired all her injuries, but her body refused to stabilize. A set of alarms would go off, medical personnel would rush in, and whoever was sitting with her at the moment would go into the hallway and try not to panic. Then the Doctor would come out and say she was doing better. Another couple of hours would pass, alarms would start screaming, and the whole thing would happen again.

Now, on the fourth day, the beeping was steady and quiet. Kathryn’s color had returned. Her friends and loved ones could sit with her without their hearts in their throats.

Boring as hell and wonderful for it.

It was late in the afternoon, and Gretchen, Phoebe, Chakotay, Tom and B’Elanna were in the hospital café while the Doctor was running some tests on Kathryn. The group had chatted lightly about a few random, unimportant things, but mostly had been content to sit quietly, relax, and enjoy their coffees and teas.

Mostly. Kathryn’s mother had never been a fan of pretense. Or silence.

Gretchen's voice broke the stillness as she looked at Chakotay and asked, "What are your intentions towards my daughter?"

Phoebe didn’t appear surprised, and raised eyebrows were the only reaction from Tom and B’Elanna. All three leaned forward a bit, though, to hear the answer.

Chakotay set down his tea and turned his chair to face Gretchen.

"I intend to marry her," he answered, his honest eyes not leaving her challenging ones.

Gretchen stared at him for a bit, unblinking. Then she nodded and returned to her coffee.

Chakotay turned his chair back to the table and picked up his tea cup. He saw Phoebe laughing quietly. Tom and B’Elanna looked stunned.

Chakotay grinned at them, shrugged, and took a long sip of tea.

They sat like that for a while, B’Elanna and Tom eventually deciding they weren't going to her any more good stuff. Just when they had all settled back into an easy quiet, Gretchen spoke again.

"It won't be easy, you know."

Chakotay stared out the window at the setting sun.

"I know."

Chapter Text

The exchange with Gretchen had been easy. But as he prepared for the first full night's sleep he'd gotten in days, Chakotay thought about what she said. She was right, it wouldn't be easy with Kathryn.

A lot of it was his fault. OK, most of it. The whole thing with Seven ….

"Ugghhh," he groaned. He laid back on his bed and pulled a pillow over his face.

It had been so stupid. *He* had been so stupid. He missed a chance with Kathryn because he had taken up with a child. And she was a child! She might have looked like a grown woman but her immaturity was overwhelming. She had so little life experience. What had he been thinking?

"I know exactly what I was thinking," he said to himself. Seven had started leaning on him for help those last weeks on Voyager, and it had flattered him. Then she started *leaning* on him. Like, literally leaning against him. And, well, he was a man ….

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

What had been such a boost to his ego one minute became something … different … as soon as they got back to the Alpha Quadrant. There stood Kathryn on the bridge, brave, beautiful Kathryn, finally reaching the impossible goal she'd set for herself seven years before. He wanted to leap over the consoles and run to her side, take her in his arms, and swing her around the room in victory.

But there was a hand on his arm. He looked at the person it belonged to. Seven. What the …? Why was she here? It's Kathryn's moment, *our* moment, mine and Kathryn’s ….

"Commander, set a course."

Oh, hell.

The extreme unease that hit his gut that second persisted for weeks, through the debriefs, all the way through the Homecoming Ball. He remained with Seven, mainly because he wasn't sure what else to do.

Chakotay and Seven arrived together at the Homecoming event. They saw several of the senior officers gathered at one table and they walked over.

"Well, if it isn't Commander Mid-Life Crisis and Daddy-Issues of Nine!" B’Elanna announced.

Everyone froze. Both Chakotay and Seven looked as though they had been doused with cold water.

Then, as Tom started mumbling something about B’Elanna getting her first taste of champagne since giving birth, and perhaps overdoing it, there was a commotion at the entrance to the ballroom.

Kathryn Janeway had arrived.

The crowd parted and she came into view. She was gorgeous. A strapless dress in some sort of soft material, inky blue. Her hair was in some sort of twist. Her only jewelry were diamond studs in her ears. She really didn't need any frills or adornments; Kathryn herself was the thing of beauty.

She smiled and blushed a bit looking around the room as the crew welcomed her with cheers. When her eyes reached Chakotay and Seven, her smile faltered so imperceptibly, no one outside her closest friends would have seen it.

Chakotay and Seven saw it.

Seven leaned over to Chakotay and said in a low voice, "I believe we need to have a conversation."

They excused themselves to a side room. Neither had to say anything, they both knew it was over. The conversation was quick and surprisingly pleasant. Neither had felt particularly comfortable with the other since arriving at Earth but neither had said anything -- it took B’Elanna's drunken comment and the split second of hurt in Kathryn’s eyes to make them talk. They agreed they weren't well-suited for each other, that each wanted different things from life, and that it was better to part as friends. And they did.

It took about 20 minutes for word to get around the room that they had broken up. Seven was immediately asked to dance by a young, handsome commander from the USS Mandela, and she had no shortage of dance partners for the rest of the evening.

Chakotay had lingered at the command crew table most of the night, unsure if he should approach Kathryn. B’Elanna eventually talked him into a dance. As they moved about the floor and Chakotay realized she had sobered up a little, he gave her a disapproving look and shook his head.

“I don't know whether to curse you or kiss you for that comment about me and Seven when we got here.”

B’Elanna grinned saucily and said, "If you kiss someone tonight, it won't be me."

Tom suddenly appeared at his side with his partner and said, "Trade, Commander? I wanna dance with my wife." And he spun B’Elanna away, leaving Chakotay and Kathryn standing in the middle of the dance floor, staring at each other.

"I think we've been had," Kathryn said.

"I think so," Chakotay replied.

Then he opened his arms to her and said with a smile, "But why waste a good song?"

She smiled.

They danced.

They danced for several songs and had a much-needed heart-to-heart. When the music stopped, they continued their conversation. Chakotay told her about his friendly break-up with Seven, assuring Kathryn he was far from heartbroken or even sad. Then Kathryn told him about the bittersweet reunion she’d had with her former fiancé, Mark, and meeting Mark's wife and son. And she assured Chakotay that she also was not heartbroken, and actually was very happy for Mark. They talked about their families, their upcoming leaves, the plans of many of their crew, etc.

They met for dinner the next night and talked some more.

They continued talking over three lunches and two coffee dates the next week. Lots and lots of talking.

They talked about everything. Except THE thing.

Every time Chakotay edged close to the topic of their feelings for one another, Kathryn would get a look of panic in her eyes and swiftly change the topic. He never challenged her on that. He knew the panic was there because of him. B’Elanna had told him that his relationship with Seven, as brief as it had been, had wounded Kathryn deeply. She had advised him to take things slowly with Kathryn, to regain the close friendship they'd had at the start of their time in the Delta Quadrant.

He saw the wisdom in that. So he didn't push Kathryn, and they had almost regained the closeness they'd once shared. Chakotay had his best friend back.

But now, a year later, it wasn't enough. Seeing her in that hospital bed so close to death had frightened him. Chakotay loved Kathryn -- and almost losing her forever gave his feelings an urgency he'd not felt in ages.

He removed the pillow from his face and stared at the ceiling.

Then his comm beeped. He walked to his desk and answered it. The smiling face of Tom Paris appeared.

"Chakotay, just wanted to check in with you about tomorrow's schedule. I think Mrs. Janeway … wait, what's the deal with your hair, have you been fighting a mountain lion?"

Chakotay leaned over to look in the mirror. Wow. It was sticking up everywhere.

"No, I took a shower then laid on my bed with a pillow over my head. Hair must have dried that way. What about Gretchen?"

"She has something to do tomorrow morning so B’Elanna and I are going to take her slot. Why did you have a pillow over your head?”

Chakotay ran his hand through his hair and sighed.

“Jut trying to drown out my own thoughts, the usual. Yeah, I’ll see you and B’Elanna about lunch time tomorrow, that’s when I was going to relieve Gretchen. You want me to bring the two of you anything?”

“Thanks, no, we’re going to meet my parents for lunch. The usual, huh? Kathryn?”

Chakotay nodded a little, and Tom looked at his friend sympathetically.

He said, “I know the last few days have been rough on you. But, hey, you won her mom over, that’s got to count for something, right? I mean, she didn’t phaser you when you said you intended to marry her daughter, that’s progress.”

“I guess,” Chakotay replied, a little absently.

Tom leaned toward the camera on his own com unit, making his face on Chakotay’s screen unnervingly large.

“But …?” Tom prompted.

Chakotay sat in the chair at his desk.

“But Gretchen is right, it’s not going to be easy,” he replied. “I am so thankful that we’ve gotten our friendship back, but this accident frightened me, Tom. I could have lost her forever. And as hard as I try, I can’t be happy as *just* her friend anymore. But then I am worried what will happen if I push. I feel stuck.”

Tom nodded.

“You are stuck. The friendship doesn’t feel like enough, but you are afraid if you aren’t careful, you’ll chase her away and be left with nothing. I remember that feeling. It sucks, I’m sorry.”

Chakotay rubbed his eyes and shook his head.

“Yes, well. What time do you want me there, 11:00 or 12:00?”

“Eleven would be great,” Tom replied. “We have to pick up Miral before meeting mom and dad.”

“OK, I’ll see you then.”

“OK. And Chakotay, don’t give up. If a guy like me can end up with a woman like B’Elanna, anything can happen.”

And he hung up.

Chakotay chuckled. Tom wasn’t wrong.

Chapter Text

Chakotay got to Kathryn’s room at about 10:45.  B’Elanna and Tom both smiled when he came in.

“You just missed the Doctor,” B’Elanna said.  “He said Kathryn’s brain activity is almost back to normal, and he wants her off sedation to go the rest of the way.  He’s cut back on the inducers, and he expects her to start waking up this afternoon.”

Chakotay’s face lit up.

“Really?  That’s wonderful!  Have you told Gretchen and Phoebe?”

Tom nodded and said, “I spoke to Phoebe about ten minutes ago, she is going to fill Gretchen in.  Phoebe said she expects they will be here by 2:00 or 3:00, so you’ll have some company this afternoon.”

Chakotay leaned against the wall and looked at Kathryn, still mostly sedated.  She was moving more, there was no doubt.  If the Doctor was ready to wake her … well, that meant the worst was over.

“That’s wonderful,” he repeated, mostly to himself, smiling.

B’Elanna was gathering her things.

“Tom, I am going to run to the bathroom, then I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

She went to Chakotay and gave him a big hug, saying, “We’ve almost got her back, old man!”

She winked at him then said to her husband, “Lobby, five minutes.”  And she left.

Tom turned to Chakotay and asked, “How are you feeling today?”

“Better now, much better,” he replied, still smiling.

Tom grinned back, “Yeah, I thought that news would perk you up.  Doc said it still will be a while before she is fully, awake, though, so there’s going to be a few more days spent here.”

Chakotay shrugged and sat in the chair vacated by B’Elanna.

“I’m OK with that,” he replied.

“Well, I brought you something to keep you occupied,” Tom said, handing Chakotay a brightly wrapped gift.

Chakotay took he gift, his eyebrows raised.  He tore the paper off – it was a book.  

“20th Century American Mating Rituals – The Art and Practice of Romance,” he read aloud.

He looked at Tom and then back at the book.  This time his eyebrows nearly jumped off his head.

“By Dr. Randy Love?!?!” he read with disbelief.

He looked at Tom.

“Dr. Randy Love.  Dr. Love.  Randy Love.”

Tom chuckled, “That’s what it says.”

Chakotay shook his head.

“The man’s name is Randy.  Randy.  Love.”

“Yeah, B’Elanna thought it was fake, too.  But I looked him up.  His name was Randall Love, he was a cultural anthropologist about fifty years ago.  He published a lot.  He studied human mating rituals going back ten centuries.”

“PhD?” Chakotay asked.

“Yep, he was honestly ‘Dr. Love’,” Tom said.  “I am sure he played that up.  But he’s got a lot of books out there, and they all appear to have been well-researched.”

Chakotay looked at the back of the book to see the author’s picture and biography.  For some reason, he expected "Dr. Love" to be a handsome fellow.  Or at least a showy one.  He was neither.

“He looks like a Ferengi,” Chakotay noted.  He looked curiously at Tom.

“Where did you get this?  WHY did you get this?” he asked.

“You know how much I love the 20th century,” Tom replied.  “Harry told me about this store in London called ‘Time Peace’ that specializes in earth’s history – not the recent stuff, there is nothing in there about life past the year 2100.  But they have a huge section devoted to the 20th century.  Harry even found some old ‘Captain Proton’ comic books – reproductions, but still amazing.”

Chakotay chuckled and glanced at Kathryn.

“Arachnia,” he thought to himself.  

“… and so B’Elanna and I were in London one weekend and stopped by.  It’s incredible.  Everything you could possibly ever want to know about the 20th century in that one section of the shop.  Antiques, clothing, you name it.  And tons of books.”

He pointed to the book Chakotay was holding.

“B’Elanna actually bought that one for me.  She meant it as a joke, I think.  But I read it and there’s actually some good stuff in there.”

Tom looked at his former captain lying quietly in her hospital bed.  Then he turned to Chakotay and smiled.

“Maybe you’ll find some inspiration.  Something to get things unstuck?”

“Maybe,” Chakotay replied.  He didn’t look convinced.

“At the very least,” Tom said as he walked out, “it should keep you entertained until she wakes up.”

Chapter Text

Seeing Kathryn start to wake up was not what any of them had expected.  The Doctor had warned them it would be a while before she was totally awake and aware.  Chakotay just hadn’t been prepared for how unsettling it was to see her semi-lucid.  

Sometimes she would wake and not recognize him.  Or, after they arrived, her mother or her sister.  Then she would drop into an uneasy sleep.  A couple of times she woke up believing she was on Voyager.  She recognized Chakotay and the Doctor but couldn’t make sense of Gretchen and Phoebe being there.  

The worst had been when a couple of nurses had come in with the Doctor and Kathryn thought they were Vidiians.  She had been terrified, her heart rate skyrocketed, and Chakotay had to help hold her down for one of the nurses to give her a very mild sedative.

The Doctor told all of them that the effects of her head injury and deep sedation had left her memories somewhat jumbled, but that this was to be expected at this stage.  He assured them the multiple scans he had taken of her brain showed no reason to believe she wouldn’t be back to herself in a couple of days.

Which didn’t make seeing what was happening now any less upsetting.

Chakotay had been particularly unnerved by her Vidiian hallucination.  The stress of the last few days and his memories of Voyager’s experiences with that often-murderous race had finally taken him to the brink, and he excused himself into hallway to try and calm down.

Phoebe joined him and took one of his trembling hands.

She said, “Chakotay, you are exhausted.  Why don’t you take tomorrow off from hospital duty?  Get some rest, some time away from here.  Kathryn isn’t going anywhere.”

“But I need to be here when she wakes up,” he replied, his eyes closed.

“You need to be in good enough shape to help her when she wakes up,” Phoebe countered.  “The Doctor says it will probably be like this for another day or so.  When she finally is back to herself, she’s going to try and chase all of us away.  Mom and I are going to need you more then than we will tomorrow.  Managing Kathryn when she’s fully herself but still laid up is going to be a lot harder than anything that happens tomorrow.”

Chakotay sighed.  Phoebe was right. 

“But I don’t want to leave you and your mother alone to have to deal with these memories she’s having,” he weakly replied.

She shook her head.

“Those memories of hers are a lot harder on you than they are on mom and me.  I don’t know who these Vidiian people are – there’s a lot about your journey she still hasn’t shared with us.  I don’t want to know who they are.  I can tell by your face that all of you must have been terrified.  Mom and I don’t have those experiences in common with her, so we don’t feel as much pain when she is hallucinating them.  You do.  You aren’t just watching my sister suffer, you are reliving some very frightening things.”

Chakotay squeezed Phoebe’s hand.

“Remind me to never, ever tell you about the Vidiians.”

“Sure.  Now go home and don’t come back up here for 36 hours.”

So Chakotay spoke with Gretchen for a minute, wrangling from her a promise to comm him if anything serious happened.  Then, for the second time in a week, she lovingly kicked him out of her daughter’s hospital room.

Chakotay went home, had a good dinner, took a very long, relaxing shower, climbed into his comfortable bed, and then … absolutely could not fall asleep.  It was past midnight, he was worn out, and he couldn’t sleep.

He went to get a cup of tea, something soothing.  As he leaned against the kitchen counter sipping the hot drink, he spotted something on his kitchen table.  

20th Century American Mating Rituals – The Art and Practice of Romance.

He laughed and shook his head.  He picked up the book and opened it to the Table of Contents.  He took the book and his tea over to his couch.

“Perhaps the wisdom of ‘Dr. Love’ will help me fall asleep,” Chakotay thought.

He settled into the corner of his couch and began to read.

Chapter Text

Kathryn opened her eyes slowly and looked at the chair next to her bed.  Chakotay was there reading a padd.

“I guess you are my babysitter this morning?” she asked him.

Chakotay looked up and smiled brightly, answering, “I sure am!”

------------

Kathryn had fully regained consciousness three days before.  Phoebe’s prediction of how she would react to being hospitalized was spot on.  After she had been filled in on her accident, injuries, and prognosis, she asked the Doctor to release her.

“I can heal at home just as well as here,” she said.

The Doctor was horrified.

“Admiral, there is no way I am releasing you, we still have too many tests to run!  Now that you are conscious, the tests of your cognitive function will take at least a day.  Never mind the fact we haven’t been able to thoroughly test your post-repair lung strength.  And then there are the twenty broken bones ….”

“All of which I am sure are fine due to your skill and hard work,” Kathryn interrupted.  “I will be happy to return to Medical for an examination after I’ve had a few days at home.”

Phoebe, who had been watching the exchange with Chakotay, muttered under her breath, “What a stubborn brat.”

Kathryn made a face in reaction to her sister, but kept her attention on the Doctor, raising her eyebrows in expectation.

The Doctor crossed his arms and said, “I am not releasing you.”

Kathryn glared at him and said coldly, “I am ordering you to release me.”

“Kathryn Janeway!”

The voice of Gretchen Janeway boomed from the door.  

Kathryn held up a hand of warning and, still using her best Admiral tone, said, “Mom, I’m …” but Gretchen didn’t let her finish.

“Would all of you give my eldest daughter and me some privacy for a moment?” she said, walking to Kathryn’s bed.

The others filed into the hallway, the Doctor mumbling about lung tissue and gratitude.  After only a couple of minutes, Gretchen called for them to come back in.

They walked in and saw Kathryn slumped in her bed looking chastened.  Her mother had already moved to the rocking chair by her bed and had taken out her knitting.

Without looking up from the blanket she was working on, Gretchen said, “Doctor, I believe Kathryn has something to say to you.”

The Doctor looked at his patient expectantly.

Kathryn spoke a little reluctantly.

“I am sorry for my behavior, I have no business ordering you to take an action that is in direct conflict with your medical opinion.  From now on, I will follow the instructions you give me without question.  And I thank you for saving my life.”

With that last sentence, Kathryn’s eyes teared up a bit and she grabbed the Doctor’s hand.

“I really do thank you.  You have brought me back from near-death so many times, I am sorry I continue to fail to show you the gratitude and respect you deserve.  You are my friend, I should not speak to you that way.”

She squeezed his hand and let go.

The Doctor seemed surprised and mollified. 

“That is quite alright, Admiral.  I learned long ago that the more belligerent you are, the closer you are to recovery.  Just work with me for a few more days, and we’ll get you home.”

He turned to leave, but then stopped and looked at Gretchen.

“We could have used you in the Delta Quadrant,” he said, and he walked out.

------------

That had happened three days before.  Now Chakotay sat with Kathryn while her mother and sister prepared her room at the family home in Indiana.  The Doctor was releasing her today on the condition she stay under her mother’s care for at least six weeks.  While not loving the idea of being taken care of by her mother, Kathryn *did* love the idea of six weeks of her mother’s cooking, so she agreed.

Kathryn looked at Chakotay in the chair next to her bed.  He had been a near-constant presence since she woke up, and her mother had declared him an “honorary Janeway.”

But Kathryn had a hard time seeing him as a brother-figure, as much as she might have wanted to.  These days in the hospital had left her feeling vulnerable, and he had been by her side so constantly and wonderfully, she started feeling those stirrings in her heart once again.  And it scared her to death.  Just like when he would look at her with those eyes of his, those deep eyes a person could get lost in.  And like when he smiled and those incredible dimples of his would appear.  

Absolutely terrifying.

“Kathryn.”

Chakotay’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.  He was still seated next to her, but he had scooted his chair right next to the bed and had one arm on the mattress.  He was looking at her seriously.

She swallowed and replied, “Yes?”

“I need to ask you to do something for me.  I need to ask you to give me something.”

Something about his tone of voice gave her pause.  She very much wanted to change the subject, but the earnestness in his face stopped her.

She replied softly, “What do you want?”

He reached for her hand and cradled it between his two.

He said, “I want you to give me six months.”

She looked at him blankly.

“Six months?  I don’t understand, six months for what?”

Chakotay smiled and said, “I want six months of your life, starting today, starting right now.  I want you to give me your time and attention, completely, for six months.”

He squeezed her hand in his own.

“I would like six months to court you, to romance you.  I would like six months to make you fall in love with me.”

Chapter Text

That night Phoebe and Gretchen sent Chakotay home for 36 hours and he couldn’t sleep, he had picked up the book Tom gave him and started reading it to relax.

The book, 20th Century American Mating Rituals – The Art and Practice of Romance, by a cultural anthropologist with the truly unbelievable name of Dr. Randy Love, had not relaxed Chakotay.  Not one bit.

First, it entertained him.  Some of the dating habits of people in the 20th century were quite bizarre.  Chakotay found himself laughing out loud at some parts.

Next, it interested him.  Chakotay was a student of history and anthropology, so some of the more scholarly parts of the book appealed to him.  More than that, though, many of the individual stories were quite compelling.  

Third, it inspired him.  Despite the centuries that divided them, Chakotay found himself identifying with the people in many the anecdotes shared by Dr. Love.  He was amazed by the creativity shown by people during the wars of that time, the century’s evolving technology, and the changing views of gender and sexuality

Lastly and most importantly, it motivated him.  When he finished the book, he felt his heart thundering in his chest.  His mind was racing, the words “what if?” shooting around his brain as though attached to every firing neuron.  

He looked at the wall next to his couch where hung many pictures of his Voyager family.  One photo was of Kathryn and him at Sandrine’s in the holodeck – it was probably from the second year.  They were next to the pool table, looking at each other and laughing.

Chakotay got up and looked closely at the photo and the joy on Kathryn Janeway’s face.  All he wanted was for her to look at him like that again, with trust and confidence and affection.  With love.

What if?

He grabbed a couple of padds off his desk and returned to the couch.  He reopened Dr. Love’s The Art and Practice of Romance and began to make notes.

------------

Chakotay saw the panic rise in Kathryn’s eyes in response to his request.  

“Please don’t try and change the subject Kathryn, we have avoided this for too long.  Please give me a few minutes to explain what I am asking.”

She stared at him.  Part of her wanted to do anything to keep him from continuing.  Fake a medical crisis?  Put her fingers in her ears and hum, like she did when she was a child?  

Then Kathryn recalled the conversation she’s had with her mother the previous night, when Gretchen gently chided her for not giving further consideration to a relationship with her former first officer.  

“He loves you, Katie,” her mother had said.

“You don’t know that, mom,” she’d replied.  “You weren’t on Voyager with us, you didn’t get to see how his ‘love’ functions.  It’s fickle.  I don’t know if it can be trusted.”

Gretchen had reached over to brush some of Kathryn’s hair out of her eyes.

“You need a haircut, dear, once we get you home.  And I am not telling you to marry him tomorrow, or jump into bed with him or anything like that.  I am saying you need to deal with it.  Whatever your feelings for him are, you have buried them so deep to where I’m not sure you know what they are.  That’s not healthy.  And it’s not fair to either of you.”

Kathryn hadn’t responded, she’d looked silently out of the window.

Gretchen had sighed and placed a finger on her daughter’s chin to turn it toward her.

“There is a reason you can’t let go of him.  You owe it to him and you to understand that once and for all.  If you truly do not love him, then you can help him move on.  But if you do love him and you never let those feelings out, he will eventually resent you.  And you will lose him completely.  Is that what you want, a life with no Chakotay?”

That last question had stuck with Kathryn.  

Now Chakotay was asking her for time.  Six months versus a life with no Chakotay.

She looked at him and said, “OK, I’m listening, please explain.”

He sighed in relief and smiled.

“Thank you.”

He stood up and started pacing a bit, much like he used to on Voyager when he was nervous to tell her something.

“I am going to start by being completely honest with you.  I love you, I have for a long time, probably since we met.  I tried not to on Voyager, and it made me miserable.  I let that damage our friendship.  Since we’ve been home, we’ve gotten our friendship back, and I’ve been so thankful.  I had missed my best friend so much.”

Kathryn smiled at this, her eyes watering a bit.

“I missed you, too.”

Chakotay, encouraged by her smile, continued.

“Your friendship is so precious to me, it’s why I’ve tried hard not to push you on discussing what other possibilities may exist for us.  But seeing you unconscious in that hospital bed hooked up to monitors that kept screaming … I don’t think I can describe how it felt.  The idea of a life without you – it terrified me.  It was like the idea of a life without air to breathe.  How could I continue to live?”

He sat down in the chair next to her bed again.

“I am not asking you to love me, not yet.  I am not sure how deep your feelings ever were or are now.  But I think I can ask you to acknowledge that you have entertained the possibility of something with me, haven’t you?  Once or twice?”

Kathryn replied, “Once or twice,” as a tear slipped out of one eye.

Chakotay smiled and nodded.

“Then what I am asking is that you embark on an experiment with me.  I am asking that you give us six months to examine that possibility.  I have a plan.  But before I share it with you, I need you to understand that I am completely serious about my plan.  Some of it might sound ridiculous to you.  But I am asking you take it seriously, that you take me seriously.  Will you do that?”

Kathryn was taken aback by the vulnerability she was in his eyes.

“Of course, I’ll take you seriously, Chakotay!  It’s not like you would ask me to do anything inappropriate.”

Then he got a funny look on his face.  

“Nothing inappropriate, no, I don’t think so.  Maybe some things you might not be one-hundred percent comfortable with.  Maybe some things you might think are a little weird.”

Kathryn was startled.

“Weird?  Uh, Chakotay, even if I were willing to sleep with you right now, I am no shape for it, you get that, don’t you?  And I really don’t think I’m ready for that with you, weird or tame or anything.”

Now Chakotay was startled.

“Oh, no, Kathryn!  No, that’s not what I meant.  There will definitely be no sex.”

Kathryn’s eyebrows shot up.

“No sex?”

“No, no sex.  That is one of the most important rules.”

Kathryn was confused.  

“OK, I think you are going to need to explain this to me,” she said dryly.

Chakotay chuckled and replied, “I am happy to do so.  You see, what I want to do is court you.  I want us to get to know each other again.  I want us to know who we are here, on Earth, without the pressure of alien attacks and diminished resources hovering over us.”

He leaned against her bed to look her in the eye.

“You were right, you know, we couldn’t have been together on Voyager.  We were always under some sort of threat, our ‘fight or flight’ responses always ready to be triggered.  We couldn’t fully be who we were out there.  But we can, now.  I want to know who you are, fully.  I want you to know me that way.”

“So I am proposing a courtship lasting three months.  We spend time together – some of it alone, but most of it in the company of others.  No sex, not even any kissing.  The only physical connection we can have is our hands – we can hold hands if we feel like it.  The point of this time is to get to know each other intimately, yes, but not physically so.  We will learn more about each other intellectually, spiritually, and emotionally.  If this experiment is to produce the results I hope for, then physical intimacy will happen only after an unshakable foundation is built.”

He grinned nervously, sat back in the chair and tugged at one ear.

“The ‘no sex’ thing is what I meant by weird.”

Kathryn tilted her head a little and said, “That sounds … I don’t know, practically Victorian, Chakotay.  You are planning three months of unending conversation?”

“Oh, no,” he replied.  “Conversation will be part of it.  But so will romance.  So will wooing.”  

“Wooing?” Kathryn asked with a smile.  “You are going to woo me?”

“I am,” Chakotay replied confidently.  “I would say that I plan to romance and woo the pants right off of you, but for this to work, both our pants will need to stay on.”

“For three months?”

Chakotay grimaced a bit.

“Actually, for six months.”

Kathryn’s jaw dropped.

“You cannot be serious.  You want to spend three months ‘wooing’ me and then, if you are successful, you are going to … do nothing about it?”

Chakotay shook his head.

“No, not entirely.  If the first three months produce successful results, then we move to the second part of the experiment.  During this phase, we spend a lot of time together alone in a number of different scenarios.  We can embrace and kiss, but no sex.  No almost-sex, either.  Hands will not be allowed to wander.  This phase will be called ‘going steady.’”

Kathryn’s brow furrowed.

“Why do I know that term?  Haven’t I heard Tom Paris use it?  Isn’t it in one of his 1950’s holonovels?”

Chakotay waved a hand dismissively.

“Yes, I am jumping around the romance historical timeline a bit.  The point of ‘going steady’ is for both of us to determine if we want a real, lifetime commitment to each other.  Again, it will be about the non-physical connections we make with one another.  I want us to love and trust each other wholly and completely, Kathryn.  I want us to invest the time needed to create something beautiful and permanent.  You would have to let me into your life more than ever before, but I believe it would be worth it.”

Kathryn looked out of her window for a moment, thinking.  Then she turned back to Chakotay, her eyes very serious.

“What if it doesn’t work?  What if we reach the end of six months and still don’t know?”

“If we follow the plan I have and still aren’t sure at the end,” Chakotay replied, “then I think we have our answer.  But wouldn’t the experiment still be considered successful?  We would know, once and for all, that we are meant to be friends, and nothing more.”

He took her hand again.

“Kathryn, can you honestly say that you never wonder what we would be like together?  Don’t you think we deserve to find out if this thing between us is worth pursuing?”

She looked at her hand in his.  The question of what she and Chakotay could be to one another had tormented her for years.  Could she loosen the reins on her life for a few months and let him guide them to an actual resolution?

She looked at those deep brown eyes of his.  Yes, she could do it.

“OK,” she said, squeezing his hand.

He smiled, his dimples on full display.  She felt her heart jump in her chest.

At that moment, Gretchen and Phoebe came in.  Kathryn’s release from the hospital had been approved and they were going to take her home.

Chakotay nodded at the two in greeting and then turned back to the woman whose hand he still held.

“Kathryn, I am going to do everything I can to make these the most extraordinary six months of both our lives.”

She smiled coyly and asked, “Yes, but at the end of six months, when more than just kissing is allowed, what if the reality doesn’t live up to our imaginations?  What if that part of it ends up being … disappointing?”

Chakotay looked down at her hand in his.  He tuned hers facing up and with the fingers of his other hand, he began to lightly trace the lines of her palm and draw circles on her wrist.

She felt a jolt of electricity run through her, and her mouth went dry.

“Oh, Kathryn,” Chakotay breathed.  “That’s simply not possible.”

Chapter Text

Kathryn’s first night home was much busier than it was relaxing.  The Doctor had accompanied the Janeways to their Indiana home to examine the room where the Admiral would be staying, check the diet Gretchen would be feeding her, and explain the physical therapy regimen he had planned for her.  

It was only her mother’s presence that kept Kathryn from protesting the therapy schedule.  The Doctor had informed all of them of the importance of regular therapy in measured intervals to keep his patient’s bones healing.  He also stressed the importance of watching for complications from her head injury.  Gretchen had decided that her daughter would follow the Doctors instructions to the letter, whether she liked it or not.

Chakotay had accompanied the Janeways back to Indiana, but there hadn’t been time for wooing that night.  Kathryn fell asleep shortly after the Doctor left.

That didn’t mean Chakotay was done for the night.  He helped Gretchen clean what little mess remained from dinner and then offered to sit with her a while.  

“Is there something you would like to discuss, Commander,” Gretchen asked, as the two of them sat down for tea.

“Please call me Chakotay,” he replied.  “As much time as we’ve spent together recently, and as much time as I hope we’ll spend together in the future, I think it’s fine.”

“OK, then I am Gretchen,” she replied.

Chakotay nodded and said, “Gretchen, I hope you know you can call me at any time to help you with Kathryn’s recovery.  Or anything else you might need.”

Gretchen eyed him for a moment and then asked, “Is this part of the grand wooing plan?  Get on my good side to get to Katie?”

He chuckled a bit and shook his head.

“I used to always think Kathryn’s skepticism came from her father.  But you may be the source of it.”

He set down his tea and leaned towards Gretchen.

“I guess Kathryn told you about my desire to make her fall in love with me.  Yes, I have put together a kind of plan for it.  Tom Paris recently gave me a book written by a cultural anthropologist looking at 20th century courtship and dating practices.  I think he meant it as a joke or a diversion – that’s how I approached it, at first.”

Chakotay sighed and looked down for a second, then looked back at Gretchen.  Her eyes were kind, but her face still looked a little doubtful.

“Has Kathryn ever told you how long I’ve loved her?”

Gretchen’s face softened a bit at that.

“She’s told me there was something between you from almost the minute you met.  But she’s been hesitant to use the word ‘love’ when describing either of your feelings.”

“I’m not surprised,” Chakotay replied.  “The atmosphere on Voyager were always heightened, particularly for the two of us.  I agree that something was there from the minute I first beamed onto the ship.  I think I fell for her immediately – whether it was love or lust combined with friendship, I’m not sure I can say.  Had we met under different circumstances, I think we would have been able to take the time to find out what it was.”

“But the circumstances you were in weren’t really conducive to exploring feelings,” Gretchen offered.

“No, they weren’t.  She was very committed to being the ideal Starfleet captain, which to her meant there could be nothing but friendship between us.  And I was kind of an ass about it.  I pushed her, particularly after we were stranded on that planet.  And that ….”

Gretchen finished his sentence for him, “And that made her dig in her heels.”

Chakotay grinned and said, “A little.  But she was right.  I didn’t see it then, but she was right.”

He sighed and said a third time, “She was right.”

Gretchen continued drinking her tea and watching Chakotay.  He appeared to be reliving his regrets.  

Well, that was no good.

“So tell me about this book Tom Paris gave you.”

This made Chakotay smile again.

“It was written by a man named Dr. Love,” he said.

Gretchen snorted – in a cute way, Chakotay thought.

“Dr. Love?  Do I even want to know what kind of book this is, Chakotay?” she asked with a laugh.

He shook his head, laughed and said, “It’s nothing inappropriate, Gretchen.  The man who wrote it was an academic, that’s where the ‘Doctor’ comes from.  And apparently his name actually was ‘Love.’  He studied the cultural aspects of coupling and mating behavior on Earth in different cultural groups over the centuries.”

“The book is 20th Century American Mating Rituals – The Art and Practice of Romance.  It’s actually very interesting.  Some of the rituals described are familiar today, like dating.  I had no idea ‘dating’ began in the 20th century.  I found some things offensive – for example, some of the things women had to put up with back then, particularly in the first half of the century, were ridiculous.”

Chakotay leaned back into the couch cushions and stared at his tea thoughtfully.

He looked back up and said, “But there were bits and pieces of different rituals that I found very appealing – and applicable to the situation between Kathryn and me.”

“Such as?” Gretchen asked.

“Well,” Chakotay replied, “there’s the phenomenon of courtship.  Dr. Love describes it as very controlled process.  The couple spent little-to-no time together by themselves, and the physical part of the relationship could end up being non-existent until the wedding night.  The point was for the people involved to get to know each other intimately before … well, before *becoming* intimate.”

Gretchen raised her eyebrows and asked, “And that’s what appealed to you, not ‘becoming intimate’?”

Chakotay blushed and pulled at his ear.

“Uh, well, no.”

Gretchen just smiled at him knowingly.

“Ugh, you Janeway women are going to be the death of me!” he laughed.  “No, what appealed to me is taking the time to know someone that well.  I *do* feel like I got to know Kathryn very well on Voyager.  But she was still always ‘the Captain,’ and I was always ‘Commander.’  We are both so much more than our ranks. I like the idea of us getting to know each other as ‘Kathryn’ and ‘Chakotay.’  And doing it in a deliberate, but relaxed, way.  No enemies firing on us, no questions about protocol, just two people.”

“Now, don’t get me wrong, Gretchen,” he said a little warily, “and please don’t be offended.  Your daughter is without a doubt the sexiest women I have ever met.  And I would be lying if I said I haven’t … uh, well … dreamed, I guess, about taking her to bed.  But, uh ….”

“But you want it to be more than that,” Gretchen said, deciding to help the man out.

“Yes,” Chakotay replied emphatically.  “But more importantly, I want her to know that I want it to be more than that.”

Gretchen grinned.

“So how can I help?”

Chakotay set his tea down and leaned forward again.

“Dr. Love said that one of the steps in courtship was really getting know the parents of the other person.  He wasn’t clear on why people at that time placed such importance on it, whether it was to solidify a familial structure or just a way for a male to ingratiate himself to the people who would be making the marriage decision for their child.  But I saw it – see it – as something totally different.”

His serious eyes met Gretchen’s caring ones.

“If I want to know Kathryn Janeway, then I need to know where she came from, the people who created her.  I want to know you, Gretchen, as a dear friend and, possibly, as family.  And I want you to know me as well.”

Gretchen set her tea down slowly then looked at this man who would pursue her daughter with such thoughtfulness.

“What do you want to know?”

Chakotay’s voice softened and he asked, a little hesitantly, “Would you tell me about Edward Janeway?  Would you tell me your love story, how you came to know and marry him?  Would you tell me about the times the two of you had with Kathryn?”

Gretchen’s eyes misted a little.  She glanced at the portrait of Edward in its place of honor on the bookshelf.

“I would be happy to.”

------------

The next morning, Kathryn awoke to hammering somewhere near her bedroom window.  It was mid-morning, far later than she normally slept, so she couldn’t yell at the hammering offender for working too early in the day.

She stiffly rose from her bed, her injuries still aching, and walked slowly to her window.  She was sure she could still find some reason to yell at whoever it was.

She raised the window and looked down.  Someone was next to the first-floor windows, bent over a tool box.

“Hey,” she called.

Chakotay looked up, four or five nails between his lips, and smiled.  He grabbed the nails from his mouth and said, “Good morning!  How are you feeling?”

“What, oh, I am fine, I guess.  What are you doing down there?”

“Stabilizing the trellises around your house.  Your mother mentioned last night that your dad built them decades ago, but that she hadn’t gotten the mounts reinforced in a while.  I told her I would be happy to do it.  She wants to make sure they are strong enough to take on new vines.”

“New vines?” Kathryn asked.

“Yes,” Chakotay nodded.  “Apparently she wants to cut back all of this ivy and put in wisteria.  She said that’s why your dad built the trellises in the first place, that he liked wisteria, and she wants it back.”

Kathryn laughed and said, “He built the trellises as a way to try and break his neck.  He was always climbing them to scare Phoebe and me, or mom.  He never got the brackets tight enough, though, we could always hear him coming.”

She then remembered how the wisteria had grown there before.  And how, when her father died, she and Phoebe dug it up and replaced it with ivy.  The sight of the purple blossoms had made their mother sad, had made them all sad.  

Kathryn wondered what had made her mother decide to bring Daddy's wisteria back.

She shivered a little.

“It’s kind of cool, I’m going back inside.  How long will you be here today?” she asked.

Chakotay shrugged and said, “As long as you or Gretchen need me.  I’m not teaching this semester, remember, I’m supposed to be working on that Delta Quadrant textbook.  My schedule is flexible.”

“Oh … OK,” Kathryn responded.  “I guess I’ll talk with you later.”

Chakotay nodded and turned back to the brackets he was tightening.  Kathryn closed the window.

“What is he actually doing down there?” she thought.  When he had spoken to her of his plan to court her, she hadn’t imagined it meant he would be doing chores for her mother.

Kathryn called to her mother to let her know she was up and that she was going to take a shower.  She heard Gretchen yell in response, “Use the shower chair the doctor left for you!” 

Kathryn rolled her eyes and muttered, “Yes, mom.”

----------

It was mid-afternoon when Kathryn actually saw Chakotay again.  She had spent an hour doing exercises with the physical therapist sent by the Doctor.  It had not been a fun hour.

The therapist’s name was Cutler.  In her mind, she called him “Cullah.” 

She was laying on large swing that hung on the front porch of her mother’s home.  She was drinking coffee – actually, because it was decaffeinated, she was only willing to call it a “coffee-like beverage.”  But her mother was being very strict about the Doctor’s orders, and no caffeine after one o’clock had been one of them.

Kathryn was busy wondering who she wanted to phaser more, the Doctor or Maj Cutler, when Chakotay joined her on the porch.

“You look irritated,” he observed as he pulled a chair next to the swing.

“Rehabilitation irritates me,” she replied dryly.

Chakotay smiled shook his head.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.  “Do you need a pillow or another blanket?”

“No, I am fine,” she replied.

“Good.”  

Chakotay reached down into the small knapsack Kathryn hadn’t noticed before now.  He pulled out a thermos and a book.

Kathryn made a face and said, “Oh, Chakotay, that’s mean.  You know the Doctor doesn’t want me straining my eyes while I’m still having these headaches.  You are going to read in front of me and rub it in?”

“No, dear Kathryn, I’m not,” he said, smiling.  “I want you to lie back on that swing and get comfortable.  I am going to read this book to you.”

Kathryn’s eyes widened.

“You are going to read to me?  Why?  What book is that?”

He replied, “I am going to read to you because I *do* know that you can’t read much right now.  I also know that getting lost in a good story is one of your favorite ways to relax, and you definitely need to relax right now.  And as for the book ….”

He held it up where she could see the cover.

“Jane Eyre?  Oh, you are going to read Jane Eyre to me?” she asked in delight.

“Yes, and you will fall madly in love with the sound of my voice and decide you should never be parted from it again,” he said airily.  Then he looked at her and smiled.

“Or you may just have a nice, relaxing afternoon.  We’ll have to see.”

As Chakotay reached for his Thermos to pour himself a cup of tea, Kathryn leaned back into the cushions on the porch swing and looked at him.  She felt her heart beating a little quicker.  

Two words – just two words – appeared in her mind.  “This man.”  She found herself saying thinking them over and over, each time with greater affection and wonder.  

“This man,” she thought, as a happy warmth spread through her.

“Are you ready?” Chakotay asked.

Kathryn nodded and sank further into the cushions.

Chakotay looked at her over the top of the book and, in a highly exaggerated manner, winked at her.  

She laughed.

He began reading.

“There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further out-door exercise was now out of the question.”

This man.

------------

Kathryn had fallen asleep about halfway through the second chapter of Jane Eyre.  Gretchen and Chakotay let her sleep for a while, until the day started turning to evening and the air cooled.

The three of them ate dinner together.  Chakotay had never read Jane Eyre before and he had a lot of questions for the two Janeway women about the book.  Their discussion had been lively and entertaining.

Kathryn couldn’t really describe how she felt sitting there discussing one of her favorite novels with her mother and the man – this man – who she might love.  There was a startling familiarity about it, even though she had never enjoyed such an experience before.  With Justin, there had never been time for discussions of literature, the two of them had been all passion and Starfleet.  And Mark, well, his literary tastes had been very different from those of the Janeway women.

She realized with a start that she had both experienced and daydreamed this kind of scene when she was a young teen and read Jane Eyre for the first time.  She had been moved by it, but had questions about the time in Earth’s history that it portrayed.  She had asked her mother about it one afternoon, and the discussion carried into their family dinner time.  Captain Edward Janeway – this was shortly before he was made an Admiral – had been home that evening and was able to discuss the novel as well as his wife and daughter.  Phoebe had just ignored them all and drew designs on the tablecloth.

Kathryn remembered going to bed that night thinking how much she enjoyed the discussion, how much she liked that her father had read more than just Starfleet manuals and would talk to her about it.  It occurred to her that night, so long ago, that if she ever married, she wanted it to be to a man who read.

Back in the present, dinner was over and Kathryn readied for bed.  She turned off the light and got under her covers.

Only three or four minutes had passed when she heard a light tapping sound.

She sat up and looked at her door.

“Mom?” she called.

There was no answer.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

The noise was coming from her bedroom window.

Kathryn walked to the window and looked out of it.  Something was below her window, she couldn’t really tell what it was, though.

She opened the window and leaned out to get a better look.  Then, she gasped.

Chakotay had climbed the trellis outside her bedroom window.  He looked up when he heard her sound of surprise and grinned.  In his mouth he had a single, long-stemmed rose with petals of a pinkish-yellow hue.

A peace rose.  

“Our flower,” Kathryn thought.

Chakotay climbed a couple of additional feet until he was even with Kathryn’s window.  He leaned against the sash and took the rose from his mouth.  

He said softly, “I wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed reading to you today.  It’s quite an interesting book.  I hope you will let me read the rest of it to you.”

Kathryn nodded.

He added, “I also enjoyed discussing it with you and your mother.  You both have such amazing minds.  It’s one of the things I always hoped for when I was a child, to grow up and be around people who loved discussing literature.”

Chakotay’s eyes got a faraway look as he said, “I let that part of me go when my family died.  I had forgotten how much joy there is in … in just talking with people who care about things you care about, and who like discussing them.  You reminded me of it when we were on Voyager, when we started exchanging books.  Today and tonight … well, it was precious to me.  A reminder of the hopes I had when I was a boy.  Thank you.”

He held the rose out to Kathryn.  She took it and, as she did, the tips of her fingers touched his.  They both breathed a little more deeply, more quickly, at the contact.

Kathryn brought the bloom to her nose and inhaled, never taking her eyes from his.

Chakotay smiled a bit and said, “Before I go, I wanted to share one other interesting thing from Jane Eyre.”

He reached out his hand, and she took it.

His eyes were dark and unwavering when he said, “’I have for the first time found what I can truly love–I have found you. You are my sympathy–my better self–my good angel–I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wrap my existence about you–and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one.’”

He squeezed her hand and whispered, “Just a couple of lines that made me think of you.”

They sat there for a moment, lost in communion.  Each felt wholly connected with the other, just through the touch of their hands.

The barking of a faraway dog broke the spell, and they smiled a little sheepishly, a little shyly at one another.

“Goodnight, Chakotay,” Kathryn said.

“Goodnight, Kathryn,” he replied.  The then started making his way down the trellis.

Kathryn, still holding her rose, stood at the window to make sure he made it safely to the ground.  He did, and then smiled up at her in farewell.  He turned and walked toward his ground car.

After closing the window, Kathryn got back into bed.  She laid the rose on the pillow next to her and looked at it.

This man.

Chapter Text

The next several days of Kathryn’s recovery followed much the same pattern as the first full day.  Chakotay would arrive in the morning, sometimes before Kathryn awoke, sometimes after.  He would do chores for Gretchen all around the farm – Gretchen, thrilled to have him around, plied him with homemade caramel brownies and other pastries.  

Kathryn would usually spend the morning reviewing messages and trying to sneak some work, but would get caught by her mother and reprimanded.  She would comm B’Elanna or Tom or some of the other well-wishers who had been in touch.

In the afternoon, he would read to her.  They had completed Jane Eyre and had moved to another childhood favorite of hers, Anne of Green Gables.  Gretchen remarked that before their courtship period was over, Chakotay would be fit to lecture at the local girls’ books clubs.

Before anyone knew it, a week-and-a-half had passed.  The Doctor had started cutting back on his visits, though not before giving his former captain a serious talking-to about taking her recovery slowly and seriously.

Worse yet, the Doctor had discovered Kathryn's nickname for her physical therapist, "Maj Cullah" Cutler, and had made his displeasure known.  

"Maj Cullah was responsible for blowing up part of the ship and stranding you on planet with little food or water.  All Charlie Cutler has done is try to keep you from healing incorrectly."

Kathryn grumbled but eventually did call a truce with her PT.  Since the antagonism had been one-sided only, it was an easy negotiation.

Chakotay and Cutler had actually developed a rapport.  Cutler had offered to teach Chakotay some of the exercises he was doing with Kathryn, but he declined.  Cutler was actually surprised by his refusal and said so.

When Chakotay replied, “I can only touch her hands,” Cutler considered that answer, decided it was none of his business and let the matter drop.

One afternoon, Cutler took Kathryn outside on the farm for her therapy.  It was a warm early spring day and she was aching for some outdoor time and sunlight.

When she came back inside an hour or so later, she found that Phoebe and her husband Matt had arrived.  They were sitting in the living room with Chakotay and Gretchen looking at a book, laughing.

When Kathryn heard Phoebe cackle and say, "She wore that black eye like it was blue ribbon," she immediately knew what book they were looking at, the scrapbook of her childhood.

"PUT THAT AWAY!" she yelled, hurrying to the couch where all four were seated.

"Kathryn Janeway, stop running this instant!" Gretchen commanded.  "Just because you get to do your PT work outside doesn't mean you are healed.  I don't want you tripping in the house and rebreaking half your bones."

Kathryn slowed to a measured, if determined, walk.  

Chakotay looked at her with a gleeful smile.

"You beat up a twelve-year old boy when you were only nine?  And got a black eye for your trouble?"

Kathryn settled into the chair across from the couch and sulkily replied, "He had it coming."

Matt, still laughing, asked "What did he do?"

Kathryn threw her hands in the air and huffed in exasperation.

"What didn't he do?  He picked on all the younger kids, particularly the ones who were the smallest in their classes.  He was a bully.  And he thought he was the smartest child in the elementary school.  You could point at the sky and tell him the sun rose and he would go on a tear explaining why you were both wrong and stupid.  And then he'd trip you, if you were a girl.  If you were a boy, he'd punch you."

"He was a gentleman in that respect," Phoebe remarked sarcastically.

Chakotay asked, "He tripped you and gave you a black eye?"

Gretchen chuckled and said, "No, the black eye came after.  I blame Edward for that."

Kathryn said, "Daddy used to let us go see some of the athletic events at Starfleet Academy when we were little, and I had seen some of the wrestling matches.  They made a very big impression on me.  I asked Daddy about some of the moves I had seen and he explained them to me.  So …."

And she waved one had as if the rest of the story was just a given.

"And so …?" prompted Chakotay.

After a couple of seconds of silence, Phoebe said, "And so one day, this boy made some comments about ‘stupid Starfleet’ and their 'stupid' missions and their 'stupid' captains.  He was clearly trying to get a rise out of Kathryn, and of course she fell for it.  She got in his face and told him off.  When she started to walk away, he tripped her.  And when he turned to his buddies to laugh with them at her, she used a variation of one of the wrestling moves Daddy taught her to knock him on his butt."

"And then he punched me," Kathryn finished.

"And then you broke his nose," Gretchen added.

She looked at Chakotay and said, "That was a fun comm to get.  'Please come to the school, your daughter has injured a sixth grader.'  Edward was home that day, and he went to the school with me."

At that, Kathryn started smiling.

"Daddy told the principal that he had taught his daughters to use force for defense only and that if that kid's nose had been broken, it was because he had done something to deserve it."

Gretchen chuckled.  

"That boy’s parents and the school principal were so intimidated by Edward that they immediately backed down.  And they all apologized to Kathryn."

"He never bothered me again," Kathryn added.

"Well, no," Phoebe responded.  "Not for another six years -- then he asked you to his prom."

"Did you go?" Matt asked.

Kathryn just grinned and winked.

"Well, I can attest," Chakotay said, "that when Kathryn Janeway comes after you, whether on the playground or in the Badlands, you can end up quite smitten."

And he winked back at her.

Phoebe took the scrapbook and started flipping through the pages.

"I am sure there is a picture from that dance in here somewhere," she said.

Kathryn sighed.

"I am not OK with this.  You are showing him all the documentation of me at my adolescent worst."

"Not all of it, dear," Gretchen replied.  "We haven't shown him any of the video clips from all your dance recitals … yet."

Kathryn groaned and put her hands over her face while the four on the couch laughed.

Matt said, "I am sure Chakotay would agree that turnabout is fair play.  When does Kathryn get to see all the images from your childhood and preteen years?"

Silence.

Kathryn immediately dropped her hands and looked at Chakotay.

There was still something of a smile on his face but not in his eyes.  He opened his mouth to speak, then looked at Kathryn.  The sorrow in her eyes somehow made the pain he was feeling more acute.

Phoebe shot a look at Matt and then looked at Kathryn with alarm.  

Gretchen put a hand on Chakotay’s arm and said, "He didn't know."

Chakotay tried smiling again and said, "I know."

He looked at Matt and said, "There are no images of me growing up.  Everything from my childhood was destroyed by the Cardassians.  When they attacked Dorvan V and killed most of my family."

Matt closed his eyed and let out a breath.

"I am so sorry, I had no idea."

Chakotay nodded and said, "I know, I know.  I am just … I just wish …."

He stopped speaking and looked at Kathryn once again.

Her eyes were beginning to redden and she softly said, "Chakotay."

That did it for Chakotay.  He felt the dam beginning to break.  He slowly stood, keeping his eyes on Kathryn’s.

"Excuse me," he said.  And he went out the front door.

Matt turned but before he could get up, Kathryn held up her hand.

“Matt, let me.  You can talk to him later – he’s not going to be mad at you, I promise.  He knows you didn’t know.  Mom and Phoebe can fill you in, I’m going to go check on him.”

She went outside and saw him walking around the side of the house to the back.  She followed him and when she reached the back, she called to him.

He heard her and stopped. He didn’t turn around but let her catch up with him.

She reached his side and looked at his face.  He had tears coming from both eyes.  He looked at her and again tried to smile.  Kathryn just took his hand.

“Come with me.”

She led him to a large oak tree past the barn, near a small stream.  She motioned for him to sit at the trunk.

“This is my tree,” she said.  “This is where I used to go when I was a girl and I needed some quiet.  When I needed some time alone with my thoughts.”

She knelt in front of him and asked, “Do you want to be alone?”

Chakotay, still holding her hand, said, “No.  Please stay.”

She took a seat on the ground facing him.  She was quiet, letting him decide what came next.

After a minute, Chakotay said, “I am so jealous of you, Kathryn.  So jealous.”

He laughed a little and said, “How ridiculous is that?  I am trying to convince you to fall in love with me, and here I am telling you I am jealous of you.”

Kathryn tilted her head and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I am guessing Dr. Love wouldn’t approve?”

Chakotay still crying, laughed again.

“I don’t know,” he said, running his free hand over his face and through his hair.  “The rules of courtship in the 20th century were not always consistent.  In the middle of the century, a man was not supposed to show weakness of any kind, and this little display would count as extreme weakness to them.”

“Chakotay …” Kathryn started to say but he kept talking.

“But in the latter part of the century, a man showing ‘vulnerability’ was considered an appropriate tactic. A man 'in touch with his feelings' was desirable, even if it was just fo show. Hell, some men apparently swore by 'the sensitive man approach' to get a woman into bed once and never see her again.”

He looked at Kathryn, smiled and said, “That’s not what I’m doing, by the way.”

She smiled in return.  Letting go of his hand, she scooted on the ground to sit next to him.

“I am going to break one of your courtship rules, Chakotay, and sit right here next to you with more than just our hands touching,” she said, leaning into him.  “I don’t know what the 20th century did when someone dear to you needed a friend, but you are dear to me and I am here for you.”

She grabbed his hand again and said, “Tell me.”

He sighed and looked into the distance.

“There are no pictures of me as a child to show you.  I don’t have a family home to take you to.  I have no parents to take you into their hearts as your mother has taken me into hers.  I can spend weeks, even months, here in Indiana and still not hear every story or see every place that is part of your history.”

Chakotay looked at Kathryn.

“I cannot give you the same gift.  I feel … bereft.  There is so much richness in your history, and mine is just a dusty, abandoned planet weeks away from here.  I can’t introduce you to my mother, Kathryn, and let you taste her home cooking.  I can’t present you to my father not just as someone I love but as proof that I finally found peace.  I can’t give them that gift, and I can’t give you the gift of knowing them.”

He looked down at the ground and, in a low voice, asked, “Can you love a man with no history?”

“Oh, Chakotay,” Kathryn breathed.  “You have a history.  You have a family, you have a home.  You are the keeper of their memories.  Everything you do, every good and decent thing you do, tells me about them.”

She got back up on her knees to face him.

“I don’t need to see images of you at age ten to imagine you as a boy, I see him in your eyes and in your smile -- a cute, sweet little boy with dimples running and laughing in the sunshine.  I don’t have to meet your mother and father to learn who they were and how they shaped the man you became.”

She placed her hand on his cheek.

“You paint pictures with your words, Chakotay.  Every story you have ever told me about either of them or about life Dorvan V has left vivid images in my mind.  When you talk about them, you make them alive.  I think I can love a man who lives his history.”

Chakotay looked at Kathryn.  In her eyes he saw … he wasn’t sure what it was.  There was an openness there that he only recalled seeing one other time, when they were on New Earth and he told the story about the angry warrior.  

But there was something else. When he realized what it was, he almost stopped breathing.

She was looking at him with such love, such honest, beautiful love.  It was the look he had wanted to see from her for so long.

His heart was churning.  The old grief was mixing with this new joy, and it made him lightheaded.

Or maybe it was the touch of her hand on his face.  He tilted his head to rest it on her hand.

“I think this counts as a second infraction,” he said.

She smiled but didn’t move her hand.

“Extenuating circumstances,” she replied.

With both his hands, he took her hand from his face and gripped it tightly.  He leaned slightly forward so his forehead touched her fingers where they rested in his grasp, his eyes closed.  He sat there for a moment like that, almost as if in prayer.

What he had seen in her eyes just a moment ago ….  But he decided to let it lie.  It was too soon, and he was too emotional. When they finally did have that conversation, he wanted both of them to be smiling.

When he looked back up, Kathryn was relieved to his eyes were more peaceful.  Still sad, but peaceful. Maybe even a little hopeful.

Kathryn moved to sit next to him again.

“Chakotay,” she said, “Tell me about your mother and father.  Tell me their favorite colors, their pet names for one another.  Tell me how they met and fell in love.  How did they choose your name, or choose your sister's name?  Tell me your earliest memories of them.  What books did they read to you?  What were their favorite songs?  How did they comfort you when you were a boy and felt afraid?  What did they talk to you about when they would tuck you in at night?”

She leaned up a bit to look him in the eye and said, “Do what you do so well.  Make them real for me.”

Chapter Text

Kathryn and Chakotay sat under the oak tree until well after dark.  He told stories from his childhood and youth, many of them funny, some sad, all poignant.  For Chakotay, it was cathartic.  He had spent years trying not to dwell on the memories of life before the destruction of Dorvan V.  To sit and tell all the stories -- and to tell them to Kathryn -- lifted a weight off his sprit he hadn't known he was carrying.

For Kathryn, it was as though she was seeing Chakotay in his entirety for the first time.  It was as though his life was a painting, and she had spent years looking at only one square inch of it, and in that inch were only one or two colors.  But hearing his stories pulled her away from the canvas, gave her the chance to see the entire work.  There were strokes of green, blue, orange, bright whites, and soft grays.  What she had seen before was lovely, but limited.  All his experiences, all the colors, showed her a whole person.  She was seeing a vibrancy in his history she never truly knew existed.

She hadn't known her view of him was so limited.  This new knowledge of him was stunning.

It was very late when they returned to the house.  Phoebe and Matt had gone home, but Matt had left Chakotay a note of apology.  Chakotay had just smiled and said it wasn't necessary, but Kathryn could tell it touched him.

Because it was so late when they came in, Gretchen insisted Chakotay spend the night.  She didn't want him in a ground car when he was so tired and emotional, even for just the few miles to the transport station.  She told him that she had already made up the first-floor guest room for him.  And she mentioned that if he wanted to stay on her good side, he'd just follow orders.

"Yes ma'am," he'd said with a smile.  He squeezed Kathryn’s hand goodnight and went to the guest room to bed.

Kathryn woke early the next day.  She went to the kitchen where her mother had coffee, tea and a huge stack of brown sugar pancakes waiting.  That recipe had been a favorite of both Janeway girls when they were young.

“Oh, mom,” Kathryn exclaimed, eyeing the stack, “I don’t think you’ve made these for me since Voyager got back!”

Gretchen replied, “I didn’t make them just for you.  In fact, don’t touch them yet, wait until Chakotay is up.”

Kathryn looked longingly at the breakfast, then went to get some coffee.

“How are you this morning?” her mother asked.

“OK, I guess.  Last night was … I don’t know, it was hard, it was wonderful, it was everything.  Chakotay has hidden that pain for so long, either behind anger or behind a well-constructed façade of peace.  I think he needed to talk about his family and home.  He probably has for a long time.”  

Kathryn had her coffee in one hand and with the other, she waved vaguely around the room.

“I guess being around us so much and all our family … stuff … brought it to a head.  He needed to have that breakdown and then talk about it.  I think it helped him.”

Gretchen eyed her daughter for a minute then asked, “Did it help you?”

Kathryn did not meet her mother’s eyes, but she responded, “What do you mean?”

“Did.  It.  Help.  You.” Gretchen repeated slowly.

Kathryn took another drink of coffee and looked out the window without responding.

Gretchen sighed and moved into her daughter’s line of sight.

“Katie, when the two of you came in last night, it was obvious that something had changed.  Something was different between the two of you.”

After standing silently for a moment, Kathryn nodded.

“I don’t know what to say or how to say it,” she replied.  “He looked so broken when we first got to my tree.  And … I don’t know, I wanted to make it better for him.  I have wanted to help him with problems more times than I can count, but this … this was different.

She took a seat at the kitchen table, still nursing her coffee.  Gretchen sat with her.

Kathryn looked at her mother earnestly.

“I was looking at him and I wasn’t seeing my first officer or the Maquis criminal I was sent to capture.  I wasn’t seeing my best friend.  I felt like I was seeing him for the first time. I was looking at his soul, and it was hurting, and in that moment, all I wanted to do was spend the rest of my life taking care of it, of him.  When he was telling me stories from his youth, I found myself responding, in my mind, with plans.  Plans for him and me.  In the future, years in the future.  Mom, I ….”

And Kathryn’s words ran out.

Gretchen reached for her daughter’s hand, and Kathryn squeezed it.

“When he was so upset about his lost family and home, he asked me if I could love a man with no history.  I told him I could love a man who lives his history, who is the living, breathing memory of his family.  Did I … did I tell him I love him, Mom?  Do I?”

“I think you always have, honey,” Gretchen replied.  “Do you remember at the hospital when I told you that you had buried your feelings for him for too long?  I think you’ve let them out.  Are you really that surprised to find what they are, that you love him?”

Kathryn shook her head.

“I don’t know.  I really don’t feel like I know much of anything this morning.  Last night seemed so … honest.  Honest and pure.  And now, this morning, all of the messiness comes back into my mind and heart.”

She sighed sadly and looked at her mother.

“I am afraid.”

Gretchen smiled sadly and said, “Tell me what you are afraid of.”

Kathryn looked at her coffee, then out the window.  She appeared to be getting agitated, but Gretchen squeezed her hand.

“Tell me what you are afraid of, Katie.”

Kathryn faced her mother and said, “If I love him, I’ll lose him forever.”

Gretchen relaxed in her chair and looked at Kathryn thoughtfully.

“Did you ever consider that you and Justin might not have made it?  That had he lived, you might have gotten married, been happy for a few years, then split up?”

Kathryn fell back into her chair, stunned.  It was as though her mother had struck her.

“No, mom!  Why would you say that?”

“I know you loved him,” Gretchen replied, “but neither your father nor I saw a lengthy future for you and Justin.  You were all passion and star dust with each other, hot-headed and fierce.  It was the kind of love meant for the young, the kind that doesn’t age well.”

“You *and* Daddy thought this?” Kathryn asked, wide-eyed.

Gretchen nodded.

“Yes.  We discussed whether or not we should sit down with the two of you and tell you our concerns.  We could see some changes in you that we weren’t sure we liked.  You were going to remain in the sciences because of Justin, you were considering staying Earthbound, all because of where his career might have gone.  We know he wasn’t pressuring you to do that, it was something you decided on your own.  But it wasn’t you.  Your father and I had decided we would sit down with you after the three of you returned from testing that shuttle.  And after they … after you came back alone, there didn’t seem to be a reason to tell you.”

“Then why tell me now?” Kathryn asked, the hurt evident in her voice.

“Because,” Gretchen responded, “I think you have spent the years since that terrible day judging everything and everyone by it.  You decided that Justin was *the one* great love of your life, and you have been unwilling to let that go.  And you will not be able to love Chakotay, or anyone, without fear until you do.”

Kathryn got up to freshen her coffee, using the time to digest what her mother had said.  When she returned to the table, she said, flatly, “I don’t follow your reasoning.”

Gretchen shook her head in frustration.

“You took what happened and turned it into some sort of horrible cause-and-effect event.  You loved Justin.  He died.  You preserved your memory of him as it was at that time and turned it into some two-dimensional ideal.  He was a wonderful young man, but he was a human with faults.  But in your mind, he remained perfect, the one great love of your life.  And because he was that, he died.  Somewhere in your head, you decided that you loved Justin so much that it killed him.”

Gretchen leaned forward.

“What I am telling you, Katie, is that he might not have been the one great love of your life.  And that your love didn’t kill him.  If those two things are true, then it means all your fears of loving Chakotay are based on a lie you have told yourself for far too long.”

“But I was willing to love Mark.  I wasn’t afraid to love him,” Kathryn countered.

Gretchen scoffed and said, “Kathryn, you were no more going to marry Mark Johnson than I am going to sprout eagles' wings and fly to Vulcan.  He showed up at a moment when it made sense to you to have someone.  He was safe.  The only reason you ‘loved’ him was because you knew he could never own you like you thought Justin did.”

“And that’s the thing,” Gretchen continued, her voice softening.  “Chakotay would never try to own you.  He only wants to walk beside you.  That’s a mature love, a partnership of equals.  It burns steadily, and it burns long.  It’s what your father and I had ….”

Kathryn looked up when her mother paused.  Gretchen’s eyes were a little watery when she spoke again.

“I loved your father so much, Kathryn.  And when he died, it hurt more than anything ever had.  But it didn’t kill me.  He made me a better person than that.  He made me stronger.  I wouldn’t trade a single minute I had with Edward Janeway in exchange for anything in the universe.  Anything.  Even though I lost him, I got to love him.   And that was everything to me.”

Kathryn’s own eyes had begun to water as she listened to her mother talk about Edward.  She wiped a tear from her face and looked at Gretchen lovingly.

“Mom,” she said softly, “you can’t fly to Vulcan with eagles' wings.  They simply won’t work in the vacuum of space.”

Gretchen looked at her daughter for a moment and then threw back her head in laughter.

Kathryn was laughing too.  Both of them were laughing and crying at the same time.  Kathryn got up from the table and knelt next to her mother’s chair and embraced her.

“Thank you, mom,” she said.  “I think I understand.  I am still working it all out, but I understand.”

“Good,” Gretchen replied, hugging her daughter back.

Eventually, both women stood and hugged again.

“Good,” Gretchen repeated, “because I am getting very fond of Chakotay.  And I think it’s high time for you to start taking some action.”

“What kind of action,” Kathryn asked warily.  “You know he’s got all these rules for this courtship thing.”

“I know.  But he’s done a lot of really wonderful things for you within those rules.  Maybe you could start returning the favor.”

Kathryn tilted her head and smiled at her mother.

“You want me to court him right back?”

Gretchen chuckled and said, “I think it’s high time, don’t you?”

Kathryn’s smile widened.  Her mother could see the wheels turning in her mind.

“I think I’ll go wake him,” she said, turning towards the guest room.

Gretchen smiled as she watched her walk away.  Then she took a deep breath and thought to herself, “We’ll get her there, Edward.  We’ll get her there.”

Chapter Text

As Kathryn headed towards the guest room, she thought of all the ways she could wake Chakotay.  Ways that were within the rules, or course, but still fun.  A glass of ice water.  Slam his head with a pillow.  Get the comm unit in the guest room to sound the “Red Alert” klaxon.

Chakotay, though, was already up and making his way through the living room to the kitchen.  Kathryn was momentarily disappointed.  But then she got a good look at him.

Chakotay was rubbing sleep from his eyes, and his hair was sticking in about fifty different directions.  More importantly, he wearing an old, torn pair of green sweatpants and a neon yellow t-shirt with bright red lettering that said, “Yes, That’s a Phaser in my Pocket AND I’m Glad to See You!  Risa Literary Conference 2345.”

She couldn’t help it.  She burst out laughing.

“Oh, Chakotay!  I wish I had a holo-imager right now!  I could make a fortune selling pictures of you like this!”

Chakotay stopped and looked at her.  Spreading his arms out wide, he turned slowly in a circle as if modeling his attire for his former captain.

“As I turn my back to you, I invite you to look down.  There is a large hole in these pants at the base of my left butt cheek.”

And there was. 

When Chakotay faced her again, he looked at Kathryn seriously and said, “Now I’ve shown my ass.”

Kathryn laughed out loud again.

“That you have, Commander.  Come on, the best pancakes you will ever eat are waiting.”

About hour later, both Kathryn and Chakotay were stuffed full of what he agreed were the best pancakes he had ever eaten.  Chakotay started badgering Gretchen for the recipe, but she refused to give her secret.

Kathryn had left the two bantering to go take a shower.  

“Thank you for giving me a bed for the night, Gretchen,” Chakotay said as he carried the dishes from the table to the sink.

“Oh, it was my pleasure,” she replied.  “You’ve been wonderful for Katie, just wonderful.  I can never begin to replay the favor.”

“Plus,” she added saucily, “I get to see you in that shirt.  I feel blessed!”

Chakotay chuckled and said, “I assumed giving me this shirt to sleep in was some sort of Janeway hazing ritual?”

Gretchen considered that for a moment and said, “You know, that’s not a bad idea.  I thought actually having to meet all of us was hazing enough, but I had never thought about mandatory wardrobe changes.  You might want to get comfortable with that shirt, Commander!”

Chakotay groaned and said, “The things I do for Janeway women!”

“You do a lot for Janeway women,” she replied, placing a hand on his.  “Don’t think for a second that I don’t appreciate it – and don’t think for a second that I don’t love you for it.”

He turned to look her in the eyes.

“Chakotay,” she said tenderly, “family comes from so many places.  You are born into one, yes.  But family isn’t just blood.  Kathryn has family all over two quadrants, family she has no blood relation to.  So do you.  Family is love.  You have family everywhere.”

Chakotay was unable to speak.

So Gretchen continued, “And please remember this – no matter what happens with you and my daughter, you have family here.  RIGHT.  HERE.”  And she punctuated the last two words with her index finger poking his chest.

The Janeway women really were all alike.

Chakotay smiled.  He wanted to express his appreciation and love for Gretchen and all Janeway’s everywhere in all of time and space, but his voice still wouldn’t work.

Gretchen turned back to her dishes and said, “Of course, I am doing my best to make sure that whatever does happen with you and my daughter results in me getting a few extraordinary grandchildren.”

Chakotay laughed again and found his voice.

“Well, I am in luck, then.  I can’t see the universe denying you anything.”

The finished the dishes and took their coffee and tea into the living room.  

“What are your plans for today?” Chakotay asked.

“Phoebe wants me to come over to her house and help her paint her dining room.  It’s amazing, she is an incredible artist, her paintings hang in homes and galleries all over the planet.  But she can’t paint a wall to save her life.  What about you, what are your plans for the day?”

He answered, “well, I have to go to San Francisco tomorrow, for a couple of days.  The people at Starfleet want to talk to me about this textbook I am working on.  I assume they want to make sure I’m not spilling any Delta Quadrant secrets they haven’t yet made public.  So I thought I would spend the entire day with Kathryn.”

He looked seriously at Gretchen and added, “Got to get some good wooing in.”

Gretchen raised her eyebrows and asked, “Is it a good idea for me to leave you two alone for the day?  Are you going to behave yourselves?"

Chakotay nodded confidently. 

"I trust us.  We've been very good so far."

"Good?" Gretchen scoffed.  "You scaled a rickety trellis on the west end of my house and scandalized the neighborhood to gift my innocent daughter with a rose and some fancy words.  Who knows what you might try if I leave you with no chaperone!"

Chakotay, looked at her slyly and said "'Innocent daughter?!'  I'm not touching that."

"That's kind of the point, isn't it?  No touching?” she countered.  Then she smiled and added, “I know how much it means to you to follow this courtship plan.  And I know you had an emotional night last night.  If you are concerned that, if left alone, the two of you might …."

"Might what?" Chakotay asked with feigned innocence.

Gretchen gave him her version of the death glare and replied, "Might fall to temptation.  Seriously, Chakotay, if it will make this easier on the two of you to have me here, I can stay."

"I think we can manage.  I appreciate your offer, though."

“What offer?” Kathryn asked as she came into the living room with a towel wrapped around her head.

“An offer to let me keep this shirt,” Chakotay replied.  He scooted to the end of the couch to make room for her.

“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” Kathryn responded dryly.

She took a seat and said to Chakotay, “I put a couple of other shirts in the guest room, some things I think Matt must have left over here.  When you finish showering, put on one of those.  We can burn this yellow monstrosity later.”

“Done.  I’ll be back in a minute,” Chakotay replied as he headed back to the guest bathroom. 

When he had gone down the hallway, Kathryn leaned forward towards her mother.

She said, “When I went upstairs earlier, I passed Daddy’s study, and it gave me an idea.  I need to ask a favor of you, Mom.”

------------

After Gretchen left, Chakotay and Kathryn spent the morning walking around the farm.  She showed him the remains of the treehouse Edward had built for his daughters when they were young.  Then she took him along the stream that ran behind the barn and showed him the place where she and Phoebe started a campfire that ended up burning half an acre of their property.

She took him to the spot in the back yard where Gretchen always had her vegetable garden and told him what her mother liked to grow.  Chakotay offered to come back to Indiana when it was a little warmer and till the garden plot for Gretchen.

Kathryn grinned at that.  She grabbed his hand and said, “You know, I might still have access to some Talaxian tomato seeds.”

They walked back to the house, both smiling.

After lunch, Chakotay suggested they go to the porch for their “afternoon reading.”  He suggested she wait for him on the porch swing while he grabbed the next book in the series they were reading, Anne of the Island.

But when he came out onto the porch, Kathryn wasn’t on the swing, she was sitting in the chair he’d always sat in.  

She looked up at him and smiled.  

“Please, have a seat,” she said, motioning to the porch swing.

Chakotay looked at her questioningly but did as she said.  When he sat in on the swing, he looked at her expectantly.  She took a deep breath and reached for his hand.

“Chakotay,” she said, “I can’t tell you what these days since I left the hospital have meant to me.  You have been wonderful.  And this … experiment … of yours has been … eye-opening.”

She squeezed his hand before continuing.

“I know last night was hard for you.  But I hope it helped to talk about those things.”

“Oh, it did, Kathryn,” Chakotay replied softly.  “I can’t tell you how much it helped.”

She gave him a big smile and said, “I am so glad.  It helped me, too.  That wasn’t my intention when I followed you outside, to help myself.  But it did.  I think it helped *us,* too.”

Chakotay felt a surge of hope shoot through him.  He started to speak, but then Kathryn let go of his hand.  She reached down to the floor next to her and picked up a large, leather-bound box.

“I can’t give you back what you lost, Chakotay.  But I want you to know that I consider you family.  We all do – Mom told me that she’s basically already made you a Janeway.  So, I thought I would officially welcome you.”

She looked at the box in her lap.

“When you were talking about your family last night, you mentioned that you and your father had both been fans of JRR Tolkien’s works.  Well, so was my father.”

Kathryn took the lid off the box so Chakotay could see its contents.  Inside were four books bound in the same leather as the box, their titles embossed in gold:  The Hobbit, The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, and The Return of the King.

Kathryn handed the box to a stunned Chakotay.

“Take one out and open it to the title page,” she instructed him.

Chakotay pulled The Hobbit out of the box and opened it.  On the title page, he saw these words: To my son, Edward Janeway, on his tenth birthday.  Remember, ‘All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.’  Your loving father and friend, John Andrew Janeway.

And underneath that was written: To Chakotay: Welcome to our family. Kathryn.

He looked up at her with wide eyes and started saying, “Kathryn, I can’t accept …” but she held up her hand and interrupted him.

“You can and you will.  Your own father’s copies of these books were destroyed long ago.  I want you to have these.  So does my mother, I asked her about it while you were showering.  We even checked with Phoebe.  It’s official.  You are part of the family.”

Chakotay felt himself shaking.  The Tolkien stories had been one of the few things he and his father had still seen eye-to-eye on in his teens.  The last positive conversation Chakotay remembered having with his father had been about how an eclectic newcomer to their village reminded them both of Tom Bombadil.  

And now Kathryn was giving these stories back to him.  She was giving him her own father’s copies, given to him by his father.

Chakotay’s heart ached at the beauty of this gift from the Janeway women.  He held the book in his hands to his chest, as if embracing it, and cleared his throat.

“I will try to be worthy of your welcome,” he finally said, his eyes shining.

Kathryn, her own eyes watery, smiled.

“You already are,” she replied softly.

They sat like that for another quiet moment.  It was yet another moment of communion between two souls inching closer and closer to one another.

Kathryn wiped her eyes, cleared her throat and said, “OK, Commander, give me that book.”

Chakotay was a little confused by this but handed her The Hobbit.

She opened it and flipped a few pages past the title page.  She sat back in her chair and in a clear voice said, “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.”

Chakotay started laughing.  Kathryn looked at him sternly.

“Lie back on the swing please.  I want to do this properly,” she said.

“Do what properly?” Chakotay asked, still chuckling.

Kathryn smiled a bit and said, “Court you, of course.”

Chapter Text

Chakotay walked slowly across campus of Starfleet Headquarters, a messenger bag full of notes and padds on his shoulder.  His mind was whirling – what they were asking of him, all he could do with it, what it meant to him, how it would interrupt things.  And in the midst of all those thoughts, one word that overshadowed everything else: Kathryn.

He had come to San Francisco three days ago to meet with Starfleet about the book he was writing about Voyager’s years in the Delta Quadrant.  And that meeting happened the first day.  It was over in thirty minutes.

But it turned out there were other things Starfleet wanted to talk to him about.

Chakotay sighed.  Of course, it made a perverse sort of sense.  Just as he was starting to see real progress in his courtship of Kathryn Janeway, Starfleet interrupted.

He took a seat on a bench he’d come upon.  He opened his bag and shoved around the notes and padds he’d brought – and the additional ones he’d been given the last couple of days – until he spotted the treasure buried under all of it.

The Hobbit.

Of the four Tolkien books Kathryn had given him, The Hobbit actually had long been his least favorite.  But it was different, now – Kathryn had spent a wonderful afternoon reading it to him.  Her voice, that beautiful voice, had made the old story new for him.

Chakotay ran his hand across the top of the book and remembered her hands holding it.  He brought the book to his nose and imagined he could smell the fragrance of her and her home, a combination of lavender and rosemary and some other rich, familiar scent he couldn’t name.  He opened the book and returned to the title page to read, probably for the hundredth time, what Kathryn’s grandfather had written to his son, and what Kathryn had written to him.

This time, the words that caught his eye were the quote John Andrew Janeway had written: All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.

Chakotay stared at those words for a long time.

After a while, he put the book back into his bag and resumed his journey to the transport station.  He was staying with Tom and B’Elanna while he was in town, and they expected him for dinner.

All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.

Chakotay had to make a decision.

------------

As we went up the front steps to Tom and B’Elanna’s townhome, he grimaced and laughed.  He could hear Miral all the way out there, feet from the porch.  He couldn’t tell if this was the “Scream of Unparalleled Joy” or the “Scream of Unreasonable Anger,” one of the multiple categories Tom had created to catalog his daughter’s moods and vocalizations.  But it was definitely a scream.

When Chakotay went in the front door, he immediately saw that the scream was joyous – and he was tempted to join right in.  Miral was bouncing on the lap of Admiral Kathryn Janeway and having a wonderful time.  

Kathryn was laughing with the toddler, but her face brightened even more when she saw Chakotay come in.  

“Come sit with us, Uncle Chakotay!” she exclaimed as she directed an onslaught of tickles at the delighted little girl in her lap.

B’Elanna walked into the living room at that minute carrying something that looked like a bottle – he found out later it was called a “sippy cup” – to give to Miral.  She smiled upon seeing Chakotay.

“It’s about time!  I was ready to send Tom to look for you!  Come on, dinner is ready,” she said as she picked up her daughter.

Kathryn crossed to Chakotay and took his hand.  She still wore a huge smile from her playtime with Miral. 

Then she looked in his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked, concern washing over her face.

Chakotay shook his head, smiled at her, and said, “Not now.  It’s OK, but let’s wait until after dinner to talk.”

She nodded, not taking her eyes off of him.  They walked hand-in-hand to join their friends for dinner.

------------

Dinner actually had been fun.  Chakotay set aside his contemplative mood and regaled Tom and B’Elanna with stories of his two-week courtship of his former captain while Kathryn maintained a running commentary.  Soon, all four adults were laughing far more than they were eating.

By the time Kathryn got to tell the story of Chakotay’s attire the morning after he stayed overnight at the Janeway home, both B’Elanna and Tom had tears running down their eyes.  

“Oh, Kathryn, why didn’t you capture a picture of that?” B’Elanna asked as she tried to catch her breath.

Still laughing, Kathryn shrugged and said, “Just a missed opportunity, believe me, I hate it, too!”

Tom gave Chakotay a mischievous grin and said, “You know, Gretchen thinks very highly of me.  And I’ll bet she’s got you wrapped around her finger.  Maybe she and I could work something out ….”

“Tom,” Chakotay replied, “if you were ever speak of that shirt and those pants to Gretchen Janeway, I feel certain she would end up making *you* wear them.”

Tom shrugged and said, “I have no problem with that, I have a cute ass.”

And all four fell into another fit of laughter.

After dinner, B’Elanna went to put Miral to bed and Tom started cleaning up.  Kathryn went to help him, but Tom shook his head and pointed to the back door.

Chakotay had made himself a cup of tea and wandered to the deck behind their house.

“I get the feeling you two need to talk about something,” Tom said as he handed Kathryn a cup of coffee.  “Go on, go talk.  I’ve got this under control.”

Kathryn smiled at Tom and went outside.  Chakotay was leaned against the deck railing looking at the San Francisco skyline.  Kathryn stood next to him.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

Chakotay took a deep breath and turned to look at her.

“They want to promote me, Kathryn.  They want to make me a captain.  And they want me to go on a mission.”

Kathryn couldn’t keep up with her own reactions.  Surprise.  Joy.  Then pride.  Then confusion.  Then anxiety, with just a touch of dread.

Chakotay read all of what she felt in her eyes.  He had felt much the same when Admiral Necheyev told him what Starfleet was proposing.

He picked up his tea, took Kathryn’s hand, and led her back inside.

“Let me explain it all to you,” he said.

------------

It took Chakotay a half-hour to tell Kathryn about Starfleet’s proposal.  He had taken out the padds given to him by the Admiral’s staff and let her review all the data he had been given.

“How many settlements in total do they think need to be contacted,” Kathryn asked.

“There’s an average of five settlements per planet – but that’s the average.  They think it’s no more than a few dozen to a few hundred people per settlement,” he replied, pulling up the briefing that named and described the situation on the planets in question.

She looked at the list thoughtfully.  

“These are all worlds that the Federation ceded to the Cardassians.  They were all brutalized.  I am amazed there are that many people still active on them.”

Chakotay nodded and said, “I would have expected more worlds to meet the same fate as Dorvan V.  I don’t know if they were too remote, or if the Cardassians just got lazy, or they forgot about them.  But people survived there, Kathryn.  And they are living in communities that are barely making it.”

“And the destruction of the Cardassian government by The Dominion has finally left them alone,” Kathryn added.

She looked at Chakotay and asked, “Has Starfleet had any discussions with the current Cardassian leadership about these worlds?”

“They have,” Chakotay replied.  “Cardassia is in no shape to fight anyone who might invade their own planet, much less try to hang onto these territories.  Starfleet thinks that the new government is willing to give them back to Federation oversight in exchange for rebuilding assistance.  At least, that’s they approach Necheyev and the other admirals are considering.”

Kathryn sighed and shook her head.

“Before my accident, I had heard there were some developments in the Cardassian situation, but I had no idea it involved these border worlds.  My focus was completely on Romulus.”

Kathryn picked up another padd and read it carefully.

“The Titan would be the ship to carry you and your team,” she noted.  “Will Riker is a good captain, I think you would get along with him.  And having a newly-minted Lieutenant in the form of Harry Kim along for the ride would be wonderful.  In fact, it looks like there are a number of Voyager crew that would be on your team: Mike Ayala, Olandra Jor, Ken Dalby ….”  

She turned to look at Chakotay.

“This is almost a Maquis mission,” she said.

“There’s a reason they want me to be the diplomatic lead.  They think the people on these worlds will be more likely to talks with the Federation if someone from the Maquis is representing them,” Chakotay replied.  “Which makes sense to me, I guess.  I have a hard time getting my mind around the idea that my past as a ‘terrorist’ now makes me a desirable commodity, though.”

“How do you feel about that?” Kathryn asked.

Chakotay ran his hand through is hair and took a deep breath.

“I don’t know.  I honestly don’t.  One minute I think it’s a compliment that they are putting this kind of faith in me.  The next minute, I think it’s an insult that they are asking me to be the person who goes to these people, hat in hand, to ask forgiveness for the Federation’s abandonment of them.  I just … don’t know.”

He looked curiously at Kathryn.

“What do you think?” he asked her.

It didn’t take Kathryn even three seconds to say, “You should do it.  Of course, you should do it.”

“You think I should accept the captaincy?” Chakotay asked in surprise.

She nodded and said, “Absolutely.  You deserve it.  And think of all you could do.”

Chakotay slumped back on the sofa.  He was disappointed by her answer.  And he was a little angry.

“Heaven knows, we can’t say ‘no’ to Starfleet,” he replied a little bitterly.

Kathryn was taken aback.

“You *don’t* think you should do it?” she asked in some surprise.

“I don't know,” he responded, getting up.  “But I do think it’s just … predicable … that no matter what is happening with the two of us, you want me to march to their drum.”

Now Kathryn was just confused.

“I don’t think I understand.  You asked me what I thought, and I told you.  That’s what you asked me, right?”

“Yes,” Chakotay replied, pacing on the other side of the living room.  “I guess I just thought, or hoped, that we had gotten to a point where you would consider *us* before Starfleet.”

Kathryn got up, feeling a little irritated.

“Wait a minute, is that what you think I am doing?  That I am just telling you to be a good little Starfleet officer and do as you are told?”

Chakotay threw his hands in the air and said, “Well, that’s what you asked of me for seven years, why should now be any different?”

Kathryn stood across the room from him with her hands on her hips.  She looked at him for a minute.

“You think I want to use this somehow as a way to break us apart, or erase the last couple of weeks or something.  You think I want to use Starfleet to keep you away.  You think I want to create a new barrier between us.”

“Don’t you?” Chakotay asked.

Kathryn’s shoulders fell a little as she looked at him.  There was fear and sadness in his eyes.  It was the same look he would get when she would try to put space between them on Voyager.

That old hurt was still there, it still had a hold on him.  Kathryn realized she needed to make him understand how much things had changed – how much she had changed.

“Sit down,” she said, motioning to the spot on the sofa he had just vacated.

He didn’t move.

“Please, Chakotay.”

He sighed and walked back to the sofa and sat down.  Kathryn stood for a moment with her fingers at the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed.  She took a couple of calming breaths and sat next to Chakotay.  When she spoke again, her voice was much softer.

“Chakotay, the reason I think you should do this has nothing at all to do with Starfleet.  If some private company had somehow gotten the opportunity to try and help those planets recover from their occupation, I would tell you to do it.  If the Maquis was able to re-form and help them, I would still tell you to do it.  This is about what they are asking you to do, and who they are asking you to help – the people doing the asking are immaterial.”

Chakotay studied Kathryn as she continued to speak.

“When you started describing those worlds to me, do you know what I saw?  I saw you.  I saw the image of that little boy you told me about, the one I can see so clearly in my mind with your eyes and dimples.  I saw him hungry and alone.  I think about those places and I see boys and girls, men and women, who are suffering.  They need the resources that you are being asked to make available to them.”

Kathryn turned her entire body to face him on the sofa.

“Chakotay, don’t you think that it would help you, too?  That doing for these people what you were never given the chance to do for your own on Dorvan will go a long way to helping you heal?”

Chakotay leaned back on the sofa, still looking at Kathryn.

“So you aren’t saying Starfleet is more important than us?  This isn’t some new ‘parameter’ you are trying to set?”

Kathryn looked down, shaking her head.  When she looked back up, Chakotay saw her tears.

She said, “I am so sorry for how badly I hurt you on Voyager.  It was never my intention. But we can’t let the decisions I made – or decisions you made – dictate how we are now.”

She reached for his hand and said, “Chakotay, I am not the same woman I was on the ship.  And we are not in the same situation.  I do not want to put up barriers, not now when we are still figuring things out.  I have no intention of ending this experiment regardless of your rank or how long you might be gone.”

Chakotay began to smile.  

Kathryn continued, “I want you to do good work that makes a difference, work that feeds your heart and mind and soul.  I truly believe this mission, as you have described it to me, is that chance.  If you don’t want to do it, that’s your call.  But I can’t ignore how much going on this mission would soothe some of the hurts you still carry.  And I don’t think either of us can ignore the fact that these people need help.  Help that you are uniquely qualified to help them get.  My hope is that while you are gone … wait, how long is this mission?”

“Ten weeks,” Chakotay replied.

Kathryn got a pained look on her face, but then smiled.

“My hope is that while you are gone, we can find a way to continue to court one another over subspace.”

Chakotay’s face relaxed.  He smiled and looked sheepishly at Kathryn.

“I’m sorry.  I immediately assumed the worst.  That’s wasn’t fair.”

Kathryn sighed and said, “I understand the impulse.  I was pretty single-minded for seven years.”

Then she gave him a classic death glare and said, “Just don’t do it again, Commander.”

Chakotay chuckled and replied, “You are going to have to start calling me Captain.”

“That’s right,” Kathryn said, her eyes brightening.  “You will be a captain.  But they aren't giving you a ship – what about when this mission is over?”

“I forgot to tell you that part,” he said.  “When we come back, I will be assigned full-time to the Academy.  I will chair a new department they are creating to focus on Delta Quadrant studies.”

“If you are a captain but you are assigned to the Academy, then that means ….”

“That means I won’t be in your chain of command,” Chakotay finished.

Kathryn just nodded, beaming.

“That will be extremely … convenient,” she said coyly.

Anything else either one of them wanted to say was forgotten as B’Elanna and Tom entered the room.

Tom said, “We thought we heard a fight, then we weren’t sure.  We didn’t want to eavesdrop, but we also couldn’t go to bed without making sure the two of you were settled in.”

“Plus we both wanted some ice cream,” B’Elanna added.

Chakotay squeezed Kathryn’s hand and looked at her shining eyes.  

He smiled and said, “Ice cream sounds good.”

Chapter Text

Five days later, Chakotay was officially made a Captain.  Kathryn, as an admiral and his former boss, was given the opportunity to pin his captain’s pips on his uniform.  The two of them maintained a friendly distance for those assembled for the ceremony.  Many who were there knew better, of course.  

Chakotay’s sister, Sekeya, could not make it to earth quickly enough for the event.  So Chakotay asked Gretchen, Phoebe, and Matt to come as his family guests.  For her part, Gretchen doted on Chakotay that afternoon as affectionately and as closely as any mother could have.  Kathryn made a couple of sarcastic remarks to other dignitaries present about possibly challenging her former first officer to a duel with Gretchen as the prize, but, secretly, she was thrilled to see the closeness between her family and Chakotay.  It seemed to affirm the continuing growth in their own relationship.

The same day Chakotay was promoted, Kathryn was released to partial duty by the Doctor.  She would be allowed to spend half her week at Starfleet Headquarters and the rest in Indiana.  Kathryn tried to convince the Doctor that she could get just as much rest at her San Francisco apartment as she could at her mother’s home, but he would hear none of it.

“I have found the ultimate weapon to make you do what your doctor tells you, Admiral,” the Doctor proudly announced.  “I am tempted to ask that your mother be put on my payroll, I’ve seen her make both you and Commander – uh, Captain – Chakotay take better care of yourselves.  She is my new hero!”

Gretchen had only to raise an eyebrow at her daughter, and Kathryn begrudgingly agreed to the restrictions.

The Doctor crossed to Kathryn’s mother and took her hand.

“I know I am only a hologram,” he said with exaggerated seriousness, “but will you marry me?”

------------

That evening, Tom Paris decided to take a page from Dr. Love’s book to celebrate Chakotay’s promotion and Kathryn’s half-release.  He told the two that he and B’Elanna were going to take them on a real 20th century romantic date.

Chakotay, having read the book cover-to-cover, was a little wary.  So was Kathryn, but only because of Tom’s enthusiasm.  Only after B’Elanna told them she knew the plan and thought it was OK did they agree.

Kathryn and Chakotay arrived at Tom and B’Elanna’s a little before eight o’clock.  Before they got to the front door, the other couple came quickly out onto the porch, both giving nonverbal commands to be quiet.  Tom pointed them to a ground car parked on the street.

Tom and B’Elanna got in the front, leaving Chakotay and Kathryn the back seat.  Once they were in the car, Tom regained his full volume.

“You two kids going to be alright back there?  Can you behave yourselves?” he asked with a wide grin.

B’Elanna jumped in to say, “Sorry for the quiet game back there.  We just got Miral to sleep, and we wanted to get out before she wakes and realizes we aren’t there.”

“Who is babysitting?” Kathryn asked.

“Mom and dad,” Tom replied as he started the engine.  “They told me to tell you both ‘hi.’”

“It’s our first date night in weeks,” B’Elanna said happily.  “I am so excited we get to spend it with the two of you, especially with the Old Man here about to take off.”

Chakotay smiled at B’Elanna – probably the only person in the universe not named ‘Janeway’ who he would let insult him.

“Where are we going, by the way?” he asked.

“We are going to go have a classic, American dating experience,” Tom said.  “We are going to a drive-in.”

“A what?” Kathryn asked.

B’Elanna turned around again to face the back seat.

She answered, “A drive-in theatre.  Or, a recreation of one.  It’s an outdoor space where people pull up in a car and watch a movie on a large, outdoor screen.  It was very, very popular in the middle of the 20th century.”

Chakotay nodded.

“I think I read about those.  It was part of the whole phenomenon of what Dr. Love called ‘transportation sexuality.”

“What?” Kathryn asked in surprise.

Tom laughed and said, “He’s right, Kathryn, that is something Dr. Love really delved into.  Cars and sex.  Airplanes and sex.  Trains and sex.  

“The Dr. said that in the 20th century, everything was a metaphor,” Chakotay added.

Kathryn stared at him for a moment.

“What?” Chakotay asked, grinning a little.  “I am an anthropologist.  I find that sort of thing interesting.”

Kathryn shook her head and laughed.

“So, we are seeing a movie?  Will this also be from the 20th century?” she asked no one in particular.

“Yes, it will be,” Tom answered.  “And I am really looking forward to it.  It’s called ‘The Philadelphia Story,’ from 1940, and I’ve always wanted to see it.  The actors are Katharine Hepburn, Jimmy Stewart, and Cary Grant.  It’s a comedy, and it’s supposed to be really funny.  And it’s also supposed to have aged well.”

B’Elanna turned to smile at Kathryn and said, “Cary Grant.  Wait until you see him!”

------------

The two couples arrived at a large lot that had dozens of spaces set up for ground cars.  There were also benches and spaces for people to picnic, but those all appeared empty. 

A young man dressed in a ridiculous outfit and wearing boots that had wheels on them (“Roller skateboards,” Tom had confidently called them) had taken their dinner orders and then rolled back with their food in a matter of minutes.  Tom had set the car’s internal comm unit to the channel listed on the fifty-foot screen in front of them.

And then Tom ordered everyone to grab their food and get out of the car.

Kathryn and Chakotay looked at each other, confused, but stepped out.  Tom pointed Kathryn to the front seat that B’Elanna had just vacated while he steered Chakotay to the driver’s seat.

“What …?” Chakotay started to ask.

B’Elanna smiled a little guiltily at their friends and said, “Well, it’s our first date night in a long time ….”

“… and we want the back seat,” Tom finished.

“The back seat?” Kathryn asked as Chakotay began to chuckle.

“Yes,” Tom replied.  “You two are still in your courtship phase, so you aren’t going to use it they way it should be used.  We will.  Enjoy the movie, but please don’t talk to us.”

And he and his wife climbed in the back of the car and shut the doors.

Kathryn turned to look at Chakotay who was laughing and pulling on his earlobe in a bit of embarrassment.

“I take you understand what just happened?” she asked him.

Chakotay glanced at her sheepishly and said, “Yeah, I do.  I had forgotten about that part of the drive-in movie experience in the book.  Apparently, a lot of … necking … took place at these movies.”

“Necking,” Kathryn said evenly.

Chakotay nodded.

“And that’s what Tom and B’Elanna are going to do in the back seat.”

Chakotay nodded again.

“While you and I sit in the front seat and hold hands and pretend they aren't there.”

This time, Chakotay just shrugged.

Kathryn rolled her eyes and got in the car.

------------

English history has always fascinated me.  Cromwell, Robin Hood, Jack the Ripper. Where did he teach?  Your father, I mean.

Chakotay and Kathryn were enjoying the movie.  It was an interesting look at a very specific moment in history – the lives of wealthy Americans right before that nation was drawn into World War II.  The actors were charming and the dialogue was quite witty.

The two shared occasional comments as the movie played, basically forgetting about the back seat.

For a while, at least.

Until.

“Hmmmmmmm.”

Kathryn and Chakotay, who had been engrossed in the banter between the characters played by Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant, looked sideways at each other.

Chakotay reached to turn up the volume on the comm.  Neither one of them would look at the back seat.

Things were silent for a while and they were once again able to concentrate on the movie.

“Aaahhhhhhh, oh, yes, yes.”

Kathryn and Chakotay looked at each other again, each with a classic “what the hell?” look in their eyes.  Kathryn glanced behind her, but couldn’t really see anything.  Chakotay, taller, had a much better vantage point and leaned back to look quickly.  He immediately snapped his head facing to the front again.

He leaned over to whisper to Kathryn, “Uh, hands are definitely … wandering.”

She looked at him wide-eyed and bit her lip to keep from laughing.  They could hear more movement in the back seat.

The course of true love … gathers no moss.

Then both of them saw something fly through the air.  Kathryn looked back to see what it was, but missed it.  She turned to look at Chakotay and nearly choked.

A lacy, lavender brassiere was on his head.  One strap was hanging over his forehead, reaching the end of his nose.

Kathryn, trying so very hard not to laugh, reached over and gingerly caught the strap on Chakotay’s face between her thumb and index finger.  She pulled the garment off of his head and held it up for them both to examine.

“It’s a good brand,” she whispered.  “Probably expensive.”

“It’s a pretty color,” Chakotay added dryly.

The breathing in the back seat was getting heavier.

Kathryn moved the brassiere to the car window.

“Shame how it was ruined,” she said as she dropped it on the ground outside her window and poured half her coffee cup on it.

At that moment, someone’s leg – they were never sure whose – kicked up high, and right into the headrest behind Kathryn.  The movement shoved her head towards the car door, almost as though someone had pushed her.

“That’s it, we’re going for a walk,” Chakotay announced as both of them jumped out of the ground car.

Kathryn and Chakotay walked quickly away from the car, headed … well, they didn't know where, just somewhere else.  They reached one of the seating areas for car-less movie-goers and claimed a bench.

When they turned to each other to make some sort of comment, both found themselves speechless.  They stared at each other for a couple of seconds and then collapsed in laughter.

Neither one could stop.  They would start to reign it in, but then they would look at each other and it would start again.

Finally, Kathryn, wiping the tears from her eyes, was able to say, “I never knew you looked so good in lavender, Chakotay!”

Chakotay, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, just shook his head.  When he finally was able to speak, he looked at Kathryn.

“I just had this image in my mind of, one day, Tom and B’Elanna’s second child asking them where he or she came from – and one of the two of us will be there to say, ‘Let ME tell you about that night!’”

That set them both off again.

They did their best to calm down – both Kathryn and Chakotay been enjoying the movie and wanted to see the rest of it.  Eventually, they found themselves drawn back into the characters very quickly, and they unconsciously reached for each other’s hands.

The characters being played by Katharine Hepburn and Jimmy Stewart were talking and arguing and flirting.

“I really thought she would end up with the other guy,” Chakotay whispered.

“Shhh, she may yet,” Kathryn responded.

Jimmy Stewart’s character was putting up a good fight, though.

(You have) a magnificence that comes out of your eyes, in your voice, in the way you stand there, in the way you walk.  You’re lit from within, Tracy. You’ve got fires banked down in you, hearth-fires and holocausts.

I don’t seem to you made of bronze?

No, you’re made out of flesh and blood.  That’s the blank, unholy surprise of it. You’re the golden girl, Tracy. Full of life and warmth and delight.

At that, Kathryn Janeway sighed and rested her head on Chakotay’s shoulder.  Chakotay smiled and placed his arm along the back of the bench, behind her.  It was against the rules.  But it was okay.

They sat like that until the end of the movie, when Katharine Hepburn’s Tracy walked down the aisle to marry Cary Grant’s Dexter.

“I knew she would end up with him,” Chakotay said a little smugly.

“Some loves are fated to happen,” Kathryn said softly and significantly.

They made their way back to the ground car.  B’Elanna was still in the back but Tom was standing by the driver’s door looking for his friends.  When he spotted Chakotay and Kathryn walking towards him, he sighed in exaggerated relief.

“There you two are!  Where did you go?  B’Elanna and I …” he said, but Kathryn held up a hand.

“Stop talking,” was all she said as she walked around the car to the passenger side.

Tom grimaced and the looked at Chakotay and asked, “Uh, do you want me to drive?”

“No,” Chakotay replied definitely.  “If you drove, I would have to sit in the back seat.  And I am not going to do that.”

“Neither am I,” both men heard Kathryn say from inside the car.

Chakotay shot Tom a pointed look and sat behind the wheel.  Tom sheepishly got in the back seat, where B’Elanna was digging into the back seat cushions.

As Chakotay started the car, B’Elanna’s head appeared between the front seat head rests.  She appeared to be looking for something on the front floorboards.

“Something we can help you find, B’Elanna?” Kathryn asked innocently.  Chakotay smothered a smile.

------------

The next night was the last Chakotay and Kathryn would get to spend with each other for a long time.  The day after, he would board a transport taking him to the Titan.  And he would be gone for ten weeks.

The two of them had spent nearly every day together for a month.  It had been unhurried, unpressured and wonderful.  They had laid a foundation, brick by brick, upon which something even more significant could be built.

Things had changed, they both knew it.  And they both were thrilled by it.  And a little frightened.

They decided to enjoy that last evening in Indiana, at Gretchen’s house.  She had put together a wonderful vegetarian dinner in honor of Chakotay’s upcoming mission, and Phoebe and Matt had joined them.  Those two had apologized to Chakotay for stealing his spotlight and then announced they were going to have a baby.  Gretchen was beside herself with excitement.

“I finally get to be a grandmother!” she jubilantly declared as she hugged her younger daughter.  She still managed to shoot a significant look at Chakotay and Kathryn, though, almost as if she was challenging them.  Her eyes and smile seemed to say to both of them, “OK, now let’s see what you two can do.”

After dinner was over, Kathryn and Chakotay retreated to the front porch and sat together, for the first time, on the cushioned swing.  The night was cool and there was a slight drizzle in the air.

“I can’t believe Phoebe is going to have a baby,” Kathryn said happily.

“You will be an interesting aunt,” Chakotay replied.

“Interesting?” Kathryn responded.  “Why doesn’t that sound like a good thing?”

He just laughed and replied, “It is a good thing.  You will help that little boy or girl develop independence and intellect.  It’s going to drive Phoebe crazy.”

Kathryn smiled and said, “Well, that’s a bonus.”

They sat quietly for a little while longer, just staring at the water dripping from the edge of the porch roof.

“Ten weeks,” Kathryn sighed.

“I know,” Chakotay replied.

Then Kathryn shifted on the bench and said, “I, uh, have a gift for you.”

He looked at her with interest but said nothing.

She reached down to the floor to grab a tiny box she’d carried with her much of the night.  She held it up for him to see and opened it.

“I talked with B’Elanna a couple of days ago.  You know, she is the one who bought that 20th Century American Mating Rituals book for Tom in the first place, and I was curious if she thought there were any good gift suggestions in it.  She told me about this thing that people used to do in the latter part of the century as a way express affection for someone else, as well as give a personalized reminder of themselves.”

Kathryn reached into the box and took out a small, thin data chip.

“Back then, they didn’t have chips like this for data storage.  They had other media.  One was something called a ‘cassette tape.’  It was analog magnetic storage, very clumsy and fragile.  But people would sometimes use one of those devices to create personalized music play lists for others.  It was called making a ‘mix tape,’ where one person would record a bunch of songs for someone else that had meaning to them, or reminded them of the other.  And the most important inclusion would be a composition that the couple had decided was ‘their song.’”

Kathryn looked at Chakotay and said, very seriously, “Dr. Love apparently considered the compilation of a mixtape to be an artistic expression of romantic intention, and something of a declaration of ownership.”

“Ownership?” Chakotay asked with a wide grin.

“Yes,” Kathryn replied.  “By creating a mixtape, one individual was basically saying to another, ‘I claim you.’  If the recipient liked the collection of songs, it was a signal the relationship had evolved.”

She looked at the chip in her hand and said, “Now, this isn't that kind of mix tape.  I am not declaring ‘ownership’ of any kind.  And we don’t have anything that is ‘our song.’  But I have put together some selections that make me think of you, that I hope you will enjoy.  And maybe think of me."

She told him about the various collections she'd saved to the chip.  One contained various chants and sacred songs of indigenous peoples from all over the earth, including Chakotay’s own Rubber Tree people.  Another contained the complete works of Antonin Dvorak, whose New World Symphony Kathryn knew to be one of Chakotay’s favorites.  Still a third contained a recording of a three-hour Bajoran musical that had inspired many on that planet to band together against Cardassian oppression. She'd even added the movie they had seen the previous night, "The Philadelphia Story" – Kathryn had gotten her hands on that file just a couple of hours before dinner.

She paused for a moment, looking once again at the chip.

“I guess the last collection is the closest I got to doing a real ‘mixtape.’  The Dr. Love book apparently has a list of the most romantic songs recorded in the 20th century and released in the American nation.  So I went through the list and found a bunch of songs I like, songs I thought you might like.”

Kathryn looked at him and smiled.

“I made a copy for you and a copy for me.’”

Chakotay took that chip from her hand and looked at it.  He looked back at Kathryn with shining eyes and asked, “Maybe ‘our song’ is there?”

She shrugged slightly and said, “Maybe."

Then she looked at him intently and said, "But when I was choosing songs, I found myself wondering what it would be like to dance with you to some of them.  There are some very nice 'slow dance' songs here. And maybe there's a song that makes us miss each other even more, that seems to say what we want to say ourselves.”

Chakotay gripped the chip in his fist and held it to his heart.

“I bet we choose the same song,” he said softly.

“Wouldn’t that be something,” Kathryn whispered in reply.

They sat like that for another moment, then Chakotay smiled and said, “I got something for you, too.”

Kathryn’s eyes brightened and she said, “Ooo, what is it?”

Chakotay just smiled, got up from the swing, said, “Still just like a little kid at Christmas! Let me go grab it,” and stepped back into the house.

Kathryn leaned back on the swing’s cushions and shivered a little.  It was cold, but the shivers were about more that just the weather.  

“This man,” she thought to herself.

Chakotay stepped back onto the porch and stopped.  The moisture in the air that rainy night had condensed in some places, including Kathryn Janeway’s hair.  The porch light was hitting the tiny droplets at an angle that made her entire head seem to glow, as though she was a being of light and energy, not flesh and blood.  She was ethereal, like spun glass.  

It was a sight he never forgot.

He broke the spell to rejoin her on the swing.  She was immediately enveloped by his warmth.  It wasn’t just his temperature, though, it was a change in the atmosphere brought by his presence, as though moving from a cold loneliness to a temperate belonging.  Sitting this close to him, she felt less alone than she ever remembered feeling.  She was no longer singular.

It was a feeling she never forgot.

Chakotay had brought two leather-bound books with him.  He held one out for Kathryn to take, and she saw it was embossed with her name in a simple script.

Chakotay said, “I also consulted with Dr. Love.  I was curious what he had to say about people who … care for one another but were separated by great distances.  He mentions that the 20th century is the last great century for letter writing.”

Chakotay looked across the lawn and said, “I think you would enjoy that part of the book, Kathryn.  He writes a lot about the letters exchanged between American soldiers during the two world wars and their loved ones at home.  Some of the examples he prints are incredible.  Some are sad, particularly if Dr. Love adds a footnote indicating the letter writer didn’t live through the war.  But all the examples are beautiful – the language, the sentiment, the honesty of the emotions.”

He looked back at Kathryn and continued.

“There aren’t going to be many transports running between the Titan and Earth, so sending letters back and forth while I am away won’t work.  And while I hope we get to comm each other often, I kept thinking about how much we both love the written word.  So I got us both these journals so we can write each other whenever we feel like it, whatever we feel, and then exchange the journals when I get back.”

Kathryn, who had been listening to Chakotay at rapt attention, looked down to thumb through her journal.  A small sheet of paper fell out of the front.

“Oh,” Chakotay said, “that’s just a list of some topics Dr. Love listed as things courting couples would ask each other about.  More ways to get to know one another.”

Kathryn tucked the list back into her journal and brought the book to her lips while closing her eyes.  It was as though she were making a wish on it.

She opened her eyes and looked at Chakotay.

“So we’ve made it four weeks and our courtship seems to be working.”

“I agree,” Chakotay replied.

Kathryn continued, “And when we hit the end of the three-month courtship period, you will still be on the Titan.”

“Yes, I will,” he whispered.

Kathryn set down her journal and, with her right hand, began to trace the lines of Chakotay’s tattoo.

“So we’ll come to the end of hand-holding only, but we’ll be apart,” she said.

He just nodded.

She pulled her hand back and looked at him longingly.

“How unfortunate,” she whispered.

Chakotay looked at her looking at him.  He took a deep breath and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear.

Kathryn was almost afraid to breathe.  Chakotay was almost afraid to move.

Then the fear left both of them.  Their faces inched closer together until their lips finally met.

One light, but lingering, kiss – almost chaste-looking to anyone who might have observed it but, to the two people experiencing it, a touch that contained the fire of thousands of suns.

Then a second, third, and fourth kiss.  Each one soft and sweet.

The last one lingered the longest.  This time, lips parted and the tips of their tongues touched lightly.

By unspoken, mutual agreement, they stopped there.  The put their foreheads together and breathed deeply. 

This hadn’t been a simple first kiss – well, yes, it had, and it was amazing.  It was the most incredible first kiss either one of them could ever remember experiencing.  It left them both almost dizzy.

But it was more than that.  A kiss like that could never be just an afterthought, but, in a way, that's exactly what it was.  Everything that led up to their first kiss, the last four weeks and the last eight years, that was the source of the fire. They had reached a point where their passion wasn't born in touch, it was from knowing and being known.

They pulled apart on the swing.  Each one realized that they had just experienced the most romantic moment of their lives.  And they wanted to preserve that moment for what it was – perfection.

There would be more, much more, later.

They stood up.  Chakotay took Kathryn’s hand and said, “I’d better get going, I still have some packing to do.”

She followed him to the stairs that led to the front walk and leaned against the porch railing.

“We’ll meet you tomorrow at eleven-hundred hours,” she said.

“Launch pad Twelve-B,” he reminded her.

“Twelve-B,” she repeated.

Chakotay and Kathryn each treated themselves to one more lingering look.  Then each smiled at the other and turned way.

------------

The next morning, Captain Chakotay arrived at Launch Pad Twelve-B at ten forty-five.  He collected the final mission briefing data from Admiral Necheyev’s aide and loaded his things into the transport.

Kathryn and Gretchen arrived a few minutes later.  Gretchen fussed over Chakotay, reminding him to remember to eat and to be careful when visiting unfamiliar landscapes.  Oh, and to wear a jacket when it’s cold.  Then she presented him with a large container of caramel brownies.

“If I eat all of these, my jacket won’t fit,” he joked as he embraced Gretchen.

When he turned to look at Kathryn, though, he felt his throat tighten.  How much he was going to miss her!

She smiled and said, “I’m going to miss you, too.”

He chuckled and shook his head – had he ever been anything but transparent to this woman?

Kathryn held out her hand, and he took it.  They stepped away a little bit from Gretchen and the Starfleet staff who would travel with him.

“Be safe,” Kathryn whispered.

Chakotay raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.

“You be safe as well.”

They both took deep breaths and broke apart.  Chakotay turned to walk to the transport, and Kathryn to her mother.  But then Chakotay stopped and turned around.

“Kathryn,” he called out.

“Yes?” she asked, walking back to him.

“I forgot something last night,” he said.

“What?”

Chakotay looked at her seriously and said, “Kathryn Janeway, will you go steady with me?”

The Admiral threw back her head and laughed, and Chakotay joined her.  The others at the Launch Pad eyed them curiously.

“Like anyone could stop me,” Kathryn replied, still laughing.  She stepped closer to Chakotay and the two embraced.

"You're lit from within, Kathryn," Chakotay said.

In that moment, she knew.

“I love you,” Kathryn whispered to Chakotay.

“I love you back,” Chakotay whispered in response.

They held each other tightly for a moment or two more, each memorizing the feeling in the vain hope it would make the next ten weeks easier.

Chapter Text

Dear Kathryn,

This feels strange.  I know it was my idea, and I got us these journals.  But this feels less like a letter and more like a personal log.  A diary, I guess.  

I’m not entirely certain what to write.

I guess I can tell you about the trip so far.  We got to the Titan after five days on the transport.  I had no privacy there, so I didn’t write to you then.  I did listen to the “mix tape” you gave me.  Thank you for including the collection of classical guitar pieces.

I listened to a number of songs from your Dr. Love collection.  I brought “Randy” with me on the trip, so when I heard a song that interested me, I looked it up in his book.  I am finding myself oddly attracted to these songs he classifies as “Motown.”  They have a unique sound that I’ve never really heard before.  Thank you for including them.

I have listened to many songs that make me think of you – of holding you, of dancing with you. 

It’s odd being on a ship again and not seeing you.  Well, I *do* see you.  Evert time a lift opens, I expect to see you step off of it.  I expect to hear your voice over my comm badge.  Every time I walk onto the bridge, I want to tell Will Riker to get out of your chair.  And it doesn’t even look like our bridge!

“Our bridge.”  Did I ever tell you how I always felt that Voyager was ours, yours and mine?  That was an extraordinary gift you gave me, asking me to be your First Officer.  Did I ever thank you properly for that?  

I am realizing how many things I have intended to tell you over the years that I don’t think I ever did.  But you’ve always had that effect on me.  I can walk into a room ready to launch into a lengthy discussion about something, but then your crooked smile appears and everything I was thinking just disappears.

Maybe writing this will help me finally get some of those things out?

Your smile.  Ok, Kathryn, if you only knew.  There were days on Voyager when I needed your smile more than I needed food or water.  I know the crew felt much the same – it didn’t matter how bad things got, your smile told us over and over that we would be OK, that we would make it home.

I am thinking about your smile right now.  Picturing it in my mind.  If it is all I see in my dreams for these weeks away from you, then I will consider my nights well spent.

Of course, if my dreams from the few weeks before now are any indication, I will be dreaming of much, much more of you than your smile.  Maybe, as I get more comfortable with this diary, I will tell you about those dreams.

Not tonight, though, my Kathryn.  Captain Riker and his wife Deanna have invited me and the other Voyagers – Harry, Mike, Ken, and Jor – to dinner in their quarters.  I think they want to hear about the Delta Quadrant.  I know we all get tired of talking about it, but I think it will be good to talk to people who might actually *get* it.  

Plus, Deanna Riker tells me her husband knew you at the Academy?  I hope there are stories!

I will write again soon … until then, Kathryn, I love you.

------------

Chakotay had expected his dinner with the Rikers and his fellow Voyagers would be focused on their current mission, or stories of the Delta Quadrant.  But no one wanted to talk about those things.

Nope.  All anyone wanted to talk about was Dr. Randy Love.  And Captain Chakotay’s courtship of Admiral Janeway.

“How do you even know about it,” Chakotay asked Will Riker at dinner.

Will, having just taken a large sip of wine, pointed his glass at Lieutenant Kim.  Chakotay turned to look at his former Ops man and raised his eyebrows.

“Tom and B’Elanna told me, and I thought it was a nice story,” Harry replied, a little defensively. 

“I heard from the Doctor,” Ken Dalby said.  “He told the three of us,” and he motioned towards Ayala and Jor, “when he did our pre-mission physicals.”

Chakotay sighed.  He hated being the topic of gossip.  

“Apparently I am the only person who doesn’t know anything about it,” Deanna Riker said.

Will looked at his wife apologetically and said, “Well, I only heard about it last week, when I asked Harry about this group.  And I wasn’t sure I believed it.  I mean, the last we heard any kind of Voyager talk was right after they got home, and I thought Captain Chakotay was with the blonde Borg woman.”

An awkward silence lasted for a few seconds, then Jor started laughing.

“Oh, I wish there was a recording of what B’Elanna said to you two at the Homecoming Ball.  I would have given my right arm to have seen it happen, I only heard about it later that night.”

Chakotay shook his head and grimaced as all four of his Voyager crewmates fell apart in laughter.  It was contagious – both the Rikers were laughing though they had no idea why.

“What did she say?” Deanna asked.

After a couple of beats, the four Voyagers said in unison, “Commander Mid-Life Crisis and Daddy-Issues of Nine!” and fell back into raucous laughter.

Deanna, sensing Chakotay’s embarrassment, waited for the laughter to subside a little and deftly redirected the topic.

“Will, didn’t you go out with Kathryn Janeway when you were at the Academy?”

All the Voyagers, Chakotay included, looked at Captain Riker in surprise.

“You dated Admiral Janeway?” Harry asked. 

Will smirked a little over his wine glass before taking a sip.  Then he grinned and shrugged.

“I think ‘dated’ is a strong word.  I asked her out.  Several times, as I recall.  She always found a reason to turn me down.”

He looked sideways at Chakotay.

“I always told myself that she must not have liked brunettes.  Apparently, that’s not the case.”

Chakotay shook his head and said, “The key, Captain, is to get trapped with her on the other side of the galaxy for seven years.  It takes time to wear down her.”

Will smiled and looked at his wife.

“I followed a similar strategy with this one,” he said, winking at Deanna, who just rolled her eyes.

Will turned back to Chakotay and said, “I have to hand it to you, though.  I never, ever thought a Starfleet princess like Kathryn Janeway would go for a Maquis rebel!”

Most everyone in the room chuckled.  Deanna, though, sensed some anger in her husband’s statement.  And she could tell that, despite his smile, Chakotay picked up on it, too.

She once again decided to turn the conversation to another topic.

“Tell me about this Dr. Love person and his book!”

------------

After the get-together at the Riker’s was over, Chakotay and his team headed back to their quarters.  They had only just gone to their separate rooms when Chakotay’s door chimed.

“I brought whiskey,” said a smiling Mike Ayala as he held up a bottle and stood at the door.

Chakotay smiled and motioned him inside.

“I figured the wine at dinner wouldn’t be enough for you.  Just whetted your appetite?  Or is this more about tradition?” Chakotay asked as he sat on the couch opposite his old friend.  Back in the Maquis days, several of the crew of the Val Jean used to get together for a drink right before a mission.  Back then, the missions had been about scrounging supplies or sabotaging Cardassian movements – certainly not the kind of diplomacy they were to attempt now.

Mike shrugged as he poured generous servings of bourbon in the tumblers he’d brought.  He handed one to his friend and they both took long sips.

“I thought you might want to talk about that ‘Starfleet princess and the big, bad Maquis’ dig from Captain Riker,” he said.

Chakotay sat in silence for a while considering his glass.  He took another drink and looked at his friend.

“He’s not wrong,” Chakotay finally said.

“I knew you would say something stupid like that,” Mike groaned.  

“He’s not wrong,” Chakotay repeated.

Mike leaned forward and said with equal insistence, “He IS wrong.  Chakotay, you are more than a rebel.  You’ve always been more.  You were Starfleet even in the Maquis, you just hid it well.  You were the kind of Starfleet that all of us had counted on, not the one that let us down.”

Chakotay shook his head and replied, “I don’t think Will Riker shares that opinion.”

Mike just scoffed.

“What the hell does Will Riker know about it?  What does he know about anything?  Did he ever lose anyone to the Cardassians?  No.  Was he on Voyager with us?  No.”

Chakotay started to respond to that with, “Yes, but he doesn’t remember,” but he wasn’t sure if that visit from Q was classified or not, so he let that go.

Mike continued.

“And I’ll tell you one major topic he knows absolutely nothing about, and that’s Kathryn Janeway.”

Chakotay smiled a bit and said, “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t kind of love the fact she turned him down.”

“Oh, I’ll bet,” Mike responded with a grin.  “You know damn well that our Captain – our Admiral, sorry – wouldn’t have given an arrogant ass like that the time of day.”

Chakotay sighed and said, “I think you are just irritated about his comment.  He’s not that bad, Mike, I’ve looked into his record.  He wouldn’t have lasted with Picard as long as he did if he didn’t have some substance.  I don’t think he’d have that wife if he was just ‘an arrogant ass.’  He’s got some sort of issue with Maquis, but that happens.  You and I have both run into it since we’ve been back.  People usually come around.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Mike responded, rolling his eyes.  He was determined to be irritated on his friend’s behalf, even if that friend was apparently willing to let the insult go.

“The important thing,” Mike said as he refilled his empty glass, “is that *you* won the admiral.”

He raised his glass to Chakotay.

“To you, my friend.  And to Kathryn Janeway.”

Chakotay raised his glass and both men drank.

Mike asked, “You miss her?”

“Like crazy,” Chakotay replied with a huge smile.  “I miss talking to her, hearing her voice.  We spent nearly every day together for a month.  I miss laughing with her, talking with her ….”

“… doing ‘other stuff’ with her,” Mike muttered.

“Ah, well, no,” Chakotay responded a little hesitantly.  “We aren’t … well, we decided … I guess I decided, honestly, but she agreed … this whole … uh ….”

Mike was looking at him like he had grown two additional heads.

“What, Chakotay?  Spit it out.”

Chakotay breathed in deeply and said, “No sex.  For six months.”

It was a good think Mike hadn’t taken a drink right then, else he would have been the one to spit it out.

“Are you serious?!?!?”

Chakotay nodded.

“Why?  Six months?  Why would you … six months?”

Chakotay smiled a little at his friend’s consternation.

“I was my idea, Mike,” he said.

Mike looked at him like the two additional heads had been joined by four more.  He put down his glass and stared at Chakotay.

“Why?  Why would you do that to yourself, or to her?”

Chakotay put down his own glass and stood up.  He walked over to the viewport and stared out for a minute.

He turned back to Mike and said, “I wanted her to know me.  I realized not long after we got back to Earth, and things ended with Seven, that I was going to have to convince Kathryn to trust me fully and completely.  She will only do that if she knows me, and if she knows I know her.”

He ran his hand through his hair and chuckled.

“I hadn’t been able to figure out how to do that until I read that Dr. Love book.  There were a lot of ridiculous things happening with dating in the 20th century, Mike.  And when I read about this ‘courtship’ some of them did back then, my first reaction was that it was insane.  But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it made sense, especially for me and Kathryn.”

Chakotay walked to the desk across the room where he kept the photo of Kathryn and himself at Sandrine’s all those years before.  He picked it up and looked at her beautiful face.

“Attraction was never an issue with us, Mike.  Fully trusting one another was.  I didn’t want anything distracting us from the opportunity to get to know one another in reasonable circumstances.”

He carried the picture with him back to the couch and handed it to his friend.

“And it’s been kind of amazing.  I thought I knew her on Voyager, but I know now we only scratched the surface with one another.  She has let me into her life so completely, something she never would have done on the ship.  And I am not sure she would have done it now if we were sleeping together.  We are craving intimacy with each other, that’s certain.  But if we take one form of intimacy off the table, then we satisfy those cravings in other ways.  And it’s going to …”

Chakotay’s voice drifted off.

“It’s going to do what?” Mike asked.

Chakotay took the picture back and touched the image of Kathryn's face.

“It’s going to make us incredible, Mike.  It’s going to make us unbreakable.”

Mike stared at him for a minute then chuckled.

“If it means the ‘Starfleet princess’ and the ‘Maquis rebel’ finally get their well-deserved ‘happily-ever-after,’ who am I to question it?”

------------

Dear Kathryn,

I was reminded tonight of the kind of man I want to be for you.  I wonder, sometimes, if I can be the kind of man you deserve.

I honestly worry about that.  I worry that one day you will wake up and discover my deficiencies.  My faults.  My failings.  

You have never said or done a thing to make me doubt you.  But it only takes a throw away comment from someone who doesn’t really know either of us to make me question myself.  

Of course, when I am with you, I question nothing.  But in these days away from you, I feel my old insecurities coming back.

I heard someone refer to you as a “Starfleet princess” today.  I am imagining the look on your face as you read that.  I have no doubt you would like to use one of your Edward Janeway wrestling moves on anyone who would dare to call you that.

But deep down inside, I wonder if I could ever be the prince you deserve.  If it’s even possible.

I am sure tomorrow these insecurities will fade away.  But right now they buzz around me like a swarm of mosquitos.

And I know it’s not your problem to solve, it’s inside of me.  I just wish you were here.  

That smile of yours – you know the one I wrote about earlier?  That smile of yours fills me with such joy and confidence that there is no room for insecurities.  I am so glad I brought your picture with me.  I am going to go treat myself to your smile and go to bed.  If I am fortunate, your smile will follow and accompany me to my dreams.

Goodnight, my Kathryn.

Chapter Text

Dear Chakotay,

…

I wrote your name ten minutes ago.  I wrote “Dear Chakotay” and then sat here waiting for inspiration.  

…

Now another ten minutes have gone by.  I went to get a cup of coffee, thought that might get my mind going.  

OK, I refuse to believe I can’t do this.  I’ve never had any problem talking to you, why would I have a problem writing to you?

That’s not true.  I had so many problems talking to you on Voyager.  There were so many conversations I had with you in my mind that never came to be.  Not just conversations about *us* but some about things on the ship I didn’t feel comfortable mentioning.  I thought it would be inappropriate.

Honestly, there is one thing I’ve wanted to ask you about for years.  Do you remember when Vorik infected B’Elanna with the pon farr, on that planet when we first realized we were approaching Borg territory?  I always wondered how you felt about that situation – about the fact B’Elanna was going to “resolve” her imbalance with Tom and not you.

I have always wondered about the two of you.  I know you never were romantically involved with one another, but did you ever come close?

Is that a strange thing to ask?  I feel a little immature wondering about it.  But somehow, in the last month, I never got up the nerve to ask you.

Do not misunderstand me, I am not suggesting you harbor secret feelings for B’Elanna.  It’s just … I guess I never understood why you would have gotten involved with Seska when someone like B’Elanna was available.  And it’s not because Seska was a Cardassian – I completely believed she was Bajoran for a long time.  But Seska as a Bajoran still couldn’t hold a candle to B’Elanna Torres.

Once again, I wonder if that was a strange thing to ask.

I feel very self-conscious writing this.  Damn, damn, damn.

OK, I am not angry.  I just have to get used to writing what’s in my heart.  Bear with me, please, while I get used to it.

Maybe B’Elanna has been on my mind because I am going to see her tonight.  She’s invited me, Phoebe, Seven, Libby Kim, and Sam Wildman to their place for a “girls’ night.”  Which is actually kind of funny.  I read in the 20th Century American Mating Rituals – did I tell you B’Elanna ordered me a copy?  Anyway, I read a section in the book that claimed “girls’ nights” started as a way for bars and restaurants to entice men to their establishments.  The bar would host a “ladies’ night” and offer certain coupons or discounts to female patrons.  And the men would attend at the same time under the impression that there would be a large number of single, attractive women available.

I think that’s funny because every time I have ever attended any kind of “girls’ night,” it’s been to get away from men.  Not that all of you aren’t wonderful.  Especially you.

…

I just read back over everything I’ve written.  I have not impressed myself.

OK, I am going to B’Elanna’s.  I will pick this up again later.

------------

“He climbed the trellis outside your bedroom window?  Really?”

Libby Kim’s eyes were open wide, and her hand was over her heart.  She, more than any of the others in the room, had gotten completely swept up in Kathryn’s stories of Chakotay’s courtship of her.

The six women were in the Paris-Torres home in San Francisco.  Gretchen had consented to Kathryn spending one night out of Indiana if Phoebe went with her.  Phoebe was happy to accompany her sister – she was starting to realize how much the baby she and Matt were expecting was going to change their lives.  Phoebe figured that even if she couldn’t drink, she needed to get her “girls’ nights” in while she still could.

Kathryn smiled and nodded in response to Harry Kim’s wife of six months.

“Yes, he did.  And he had a rose in his mouth.  And he quoted Jane Eyre to me.”

At that, Libby was joined by Phoebe, B’Elanna, and Sam in an admiring sigh.

“That’s so romantic,” Sam said wistfully.

Only Seven seemed unimpressed.

“I do not understand why Chakotay would climb a decorative structure to see you, Admiral.  Had he not already been inside?”

B’Elanna rolled her eyes and replied, “Seven, it’s not about finding the easiest route.  It’s a romantic gesture.  It’s something you would hear about in stories – Rapunzel in her tower, Juliet on her balcony being watched by Romeo ….”

Seven nodded. 

“Climbing a wall is somehow indicative of the strength of the romantic attachment, I see.  Yes, the Doctor had me read several historical romantic fictions a few years ago.  I don’t recognize the story of Rapunzel, but I remember Romeo and Juliet.  Did they not die?”

Phoebe snorted and said, “Way to bring down a room, Seven.”

Kathryn patted Seven’s arm and said, “Don’t pay attention to Phoebe.  Yes, they died.  The romantic part was everything that happened before that.”

Seven just raised an eyebrow, as if to reply “If you say so.”

Phoebe added, “I am just happy he didn’t break his neck.  I am not sure my mom could have handled it.  I think she loves Chakotay more than either me or Kathryn at this point.”

B’Elanna smiled at Kathryn and winked.

“Winning over the mom is a pretty smart move.  The Old Man is a tactical genius.”

Kathryn just laughed and shrugged.

“I just think Chakotay is so handsome,” Libby offered.  “I mean, Harry is the only man in the world I want, but, wow, Admiral.  I mean, those dimples.”

All six women sat I silence for a moment considering Chakotay’s dimples.

“OK, I have to ask,” Sam said, breaking the silence.  She’d had three glasses of wine and was feeling bold.

“What’s he like, you know, in bed?” she asked.

Kathryn took a deep breath.  Before she could respond, Phoebe started laughing.  Cackling, actually.

“Oh, Katie, you haven’t told them?” she asked between laughs.

B’Elanna knew what she meant – the others didn’t.  They looked between Phoebe and Kathryn curiously.

“Well,” Kathryn began, “I can’t answer that for you, Sam.  We haven’t slept with each other.  One of the rules of this courtship experiment is that there is little physical contact for much of it, and absolutely no sex for any of it.”

Libby and Sam gaped at her in disbelief.

“No sex?” Libby asked in an oddly squeaky voice.

Sam just stared at her former captain and slowly shook her head.

Kathryn had been ready for that kind of response.

The other response she got, though, she wasn’t ready for.  Neither was anyone else.

“That is odd,” Seven mused.  “I believe it was our third date when Chakotay and I began intimate touching – using our hands to stimulate each other’s erogenous zones, as outlined in the research I did prior to the relationship.”

The room got very, very quiet.

Seven, sensing her comment had made an impact, felt the need to explain her point further.

“By our fourth social interaction, we engaged mostly in hand-to-genital touching.  According to my observations, Chakotay enjoyed the activity a great deal.”

More silence, joined by wide eyes and open mouths.

Seven, though, had happened upon a Chakotay-related topic she was capable of handling.  She had really not been able to appreciate the significance of him climbing a trellis to give the Admiral a rose.  But she could discuss the physical aspect of a romance with Chakotay.  Ad nauseum.

“We began copulating on our fifth date.  He seemed quite eager to start that phase of our relationship.  I was curious about the experience, so I allowed it.  He was … enthusiastic.  I was not, but the Doctor has told me intercourse could be key in solidifying a bond with Chakotay.  So I continued to allow it.  From that point to the night of the Homecoming Ball, I believe we copulated a total of eighteen times.”

Seven looked around the room.  Kathryn was looking at the floor.  Phoebe had covered her face with her hand and was shaking her head.  Sam and Libby looked stunned, and B’Elanna looked like she was ready to jump out of her chair.

Ever oblivious, Seven kept talking.

“Our repeated sexual encounters obviously didn’t create a bond between us – I wonder if that is the reason Chakotay has chosen to not initiate the same with you, Admiral.  Perhaps he is doubtful about the utility of the exercise.  I believe he and I did it successfully – both of us experienced orgasm, the intended result of intercourse.”

Seven got a thoughtful look on her face and added, “Of course, Chakotay had suggested we attempt mouth-to-genital touching.  I found the idea distasteful and declined.  Perhaps my unwillingness to attempt it led to the lack of bonding between us and his current lack of sexual interest.  Admiral, has Chakotay discussed with you the idea of you placing your mouth on ….”

“SEVEN, STOP!!” B’Elanna roared.

The former drone looked around the room again.  The other women looked horrified.

“I am sorry, is this not an appropriate topic?” Seven asked.

“It’s OK, Seven,” Kathryn replied quietly, only after clearing her throat a couple of times.  Her face was bright red.

The Admiral looked at the other women in the room, her eyes warning them against attacking Seven.  She turned to the young woman and smiled weakly.

“I appreciate your attempt to help us … diagnose … this aspect of my relationship with Chakotay, Seven.  It is very generous of you to use your own experience to try and help me.  But I am certain that whatever happened with you and him has little bearing on what is happening with him and me.”

Seven looked a little relieved.

“I am glad to hear that, Admiral.  I would hate to know anything I might have done or not done with Chakotay is causing you any suffering or discomfort.”

Kathryn smiled a little wider this time and said, “I know.  And believe me, you don’t need to worry about it.”

Not surprisingly, the “girls’ night” broke up soon after that.  What had been a fun discussion became something beyond awkward once Seven spoke up.  Libby and Sam left almost immediately, and Phoebe had gone in search of her coat.  B’Elanna was cleaning up and debating with herself whether or not to tell Tom about Seven's commentary.

As Seven headed to the door, she turned to Kathryn and asked, “You are sure I have done nothing wrong?”

Kathryn smiled and said, “I am, Seven.  As I said, I am certain that my courtship with Chakotay is completely separate from your relationship with him.”

But as she turned from Seven’s departing figure, Kathryn didn’t look certain at all.

------------

Kathryn and Phoebe were spending the night at Kathryn’s San Francisco apartment.  Phoebe had gone to bed almost immediately in the guest room – pregnancy and an oversharing-Borg had worn her out.

Kathryn was in her bedroom changing.  She had taken off her sweater and jeans when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

She stared at her body for a moment.  Then she turned to look at herself in profile.

Her eye suddenly became very critical.  She took note of every scar, every odd lump, every imperfection she could spot.  She started looking for places that sagged and was able to find several.

She walked closer to the mirror.  Her skin was no longer as smooth as it had been only a few years ago.  

She jumped up and down a few times, quickly, to see what jiggled.  Ugh, too many things.

She walked right up to the mirror, her nose almost touching it.  Her face looked … old.  Objectively, she knew she was not old, but seeing tiny wrinkles and a few discolorations and the current size of her pores did not support objective analysis.

Kathryn knew Chakotay loved her.  But looking at herself in the mirror, she couldn’t help but wonder how he could possibly desire her.

And hearing about his apparently-active sex life with the blonde vision of physical perfection only intensified that doubt.

She found herself wondering how he could ever want to make love to a body so ridden with imperfection.  She imagined disrobing in front of him and seeing disappointment in his eyes.  And it hurt.  Something that had never happened, that she had never gotten a hint could happen, was causing her pain in that moment.

Kathryn shook her head.  Chakotay wasn’t that shallow, she knew that.

If she could only be as sure of her own appeal.

------------

Dear Chakotay,

Remind me, one day, to tell you about my girls’ night.

I am not going to write about it, I think it’s a story best told in person.  Instead, tonight, I am choosing to remember your eyes.  The way you look at me sometimes makes me almost stop breathing.  

I wish I could see in your mind and your heart so I could truly understand what makes you look at me that way.  Then maybe I could believe I deserve it.

And there’s the self-pity.  Sorry.

Goodnight, handsome man.

Love, Kathryn

Chapter Text

My dearest Kathryn,

I can’t believe it’s been three weeks since I left Earth.  In some ways, it feels like three seconds, in other ways, like three lifetimes.

If I were still at home, we would have marked the halfway point of the first phase of our courtship.  Up until I left, I felt it was going well.  “The Love Book,” which is what Harry has started calling it, said that the purpose of courtship was for two people to solidify a bond through communication and knowledge of one another.  I hope you understand why I suggested we take this approach, as ridiculous as it might have seemed.  I knew we had to settle this thing between us, one way or another.  I believed – I still believe – that a focused, deliberate attempt to know one another intimately will answer both our questions.

Looking back at that paragraph I just wrote, I’ve made our experiment sound as enjoyable as the Doctor growing bacterial samples in his lab.

The thing is, I have been having so much fun with you in our experiment!  I m not sure anyone has made me laugh as much as you do - certainly, no one has ever made fun of me as much as you.  I wish you were here to tease me and Harry, Jor, Mike, and Ken.  But mainly me.  Because when you make a little fun of me now, you do it knowing everything that’s inside.  My demons lose their power in the face of your teasing.

I wonder if I have made you feel that safe.  I hope so – remind me to ask you.

I miss you so much.

I am going to tell you about the trip so far and before you ask, I’ve gotten permission to share these details with you.  So it’s OK for you to keep reading, I checked!

We’ve been to two planets so far.  One was called Foutis.  It was heavily forested, mountainous.  We found the remains of a few small settlements, each with fewer than 20 people.  However, we were told that many of the inhabitants had gone to various cave systems years ago to escape Cardassian bombardments, and most had chosen not to come back.  It took us several days to locate all the groups and bring their representatives to the Titan for discussions.  A very basic census leads us to believe there may be as many as two-thousand individuals in those caves.

The inhabitants of that world remind me a little of Vulcans, with perhaps a bit more emotional expression.  They are the descendants of small bands of refugees from another planet that suffered some sort of natural disaster – I had a hard time getting a full story from anyone.  They weren’t hiding their history, it just seemed that the people charged with keeping their history had all died.

A people without a history - I know what that’s like.

Anyway, I was pleased with the discussions.  Captain Riker did most of the work – these people apparently had no real awareness of the Maquis and my “pedigree” wasn’t needed.  We don’t think they will need evacuation, and they seem very interested in working with the Federation to rebuild their communities and technology.  They were even interested in inviting new settlers.  We left an engineering team there to set up communications equipment and to greet the supply shipments that will start arriving in a week or so.

That was the good result.  The next planet was different.

It’s called Sovongue.  It was similar to Foutis in climate and topography.  But in nothing else.  We didn’t find anyone alive.  We found dozens of small, empty communities, their only inhabitants in the cemeteries.  We found the remains of houses and roads and transport vehicles.  Each small village was a mass of wreckage and destruction.

One of the worst things was that it appeared someone – the departing Cardassians, we assume – fired incendiary devices at many of the planet’s old growth forests.  They were burned down, out of existence, all over the planet.  We could see the scarring from orbit.

Examining the ruins of the place, we think the Sovongue inhabitants had some sort of trade established, though we don’t know who with.  We found what looked like lumber yards in a couple of the larger settlements, plus areas that appeared set aside for transport ship landings.  We are hoping that whoever remained of the population found transport off the planet with their trading partners.  It’s hard to know what happened, though.  The last Federation ship to visit the planet, the one that said there were still plenty of inhabitants, was here about three years ago.  A lot can happen in three years.

I am sure you have examined the mission plan to see exactly where this place is – and you’ve probably noticed its proximity to the traditional Orion slave routes.  None of us want to face the possibility that the few left here might have been forcibly taken, but we have to.  Captain Riker put a request for Starfleet to make some inquiries about this in his last subspace report.  We don’t know what will come of it.

Tomorrow we arrive at Aldis II.  I admit to feeling anxious about this visit.  I knew a couple of Maquis from this planet.  The inhabitants are a mix of humans and Bajorans, most of whom came here from planets that had already suffered Cardassian occupation.

This is one of the places I tried to get my parents to go to when things on Dorvan V started getting so bad.  Back then, Aldis seemed a safe haven.  I was so angry at them for not coming here, and it ended up nearly as dangerous as our own home.

I’ve been told Aldis is similar to Dorvan V in many ways – climatologically, architecturally, culturally, etc.  

I can only admit this to you, Kathryn.  I am afraid of going to that planet – will I turn every corner and imagine my parents there?  Am I going to walk through a settlement and see the place I grew up?  Part of me wants it to be just like Dorvan, but another part of me will be tempted to beam back immediately if it’s anything like Dorvan.

I am trying to put these thoughts aside.  I know I promised you I wouldn’t hold in my grief anymore, but I have a job to do tomorrow. 

By the way, thank you for reminding me it is OK to grieve.  I don’t think I could make it down there tomorrow if we hadn’t spent those hours under your tree.

I think Deanna Riker knows I am nervous.  She was at one of the briefings today and she kept looking at me with such compassion.  It got me wondering what it would have been like if we’d had a real Betazoid on Voyager – not Lon Suder, obviously, but one like Deanna.  Can you imagine what it would have been like for someone like that to hear my feelings, or yours, for seven years?

I am off to bed, got an early start tomorrow.  I will close my eyes and see your smile.

Love, Chakotay

------------

The crew of the Titan had conducted a survey of the planet from orbit.  The survivors all appeared to be in a cluster of settlements in the dry, almost desert-like section of the northern continent.  

This group appeared to have some basic communications equipment, so the ship was able to get a voice message to one of the settlements informing them that a team would be beaming down.  The person they spoke with had not sounded impressed upon hearing their visitors would be Starfleet, so Captain Riker decided to let Chakotay lead this away team.

Chakotay and his group met in the transporter room at 0700 hours.  As they were preparing beam down, Captain Riker came in with his wife.

"I hope you Maquis folks don't mind if Deanna tags along," he said.

Chakotay started to smile and welcome her but Ken spoke up before he had a chance.

"What's the matter, Captain, you don't trust us?"

Captain Riker’s eyes narrowed a bit as he looked at the group on the transporter pad.  Before he could respond to Dalby, though, Jor spoke up.

“Oh, I’m glad she’s coming!  I am tired of being the only female on the team, it’s like spending every day with three annoying big brothers.”

Chakotay, after making a mental note to thank Jor later, smiled at the Counselor and said, “We would welcome your help.  There will probably be a number of people who could benefit from your presence.”

Deanna grinned at Chakotay and Jor.  She turned to Ken Dalby and said, “I won’t be monitoring you, I just want to help if I can.”

Ken seemed satisfied with that answer, and he helped Deanna onto the transporter pad.  Will Riker still looked irritated, though.  He went to the transporter controls and waited for Chakotay’s signal.

“Energize,” Chakotay said, and all five disappeared.

That day was hard on the team members.  The people of Aldis were living a tough existence.  When the Cardassians abandoned the planet a few years before, they had destroyed much of what made living comfortably on the planet possible.  The generators that powered the few replicators on the planet has been disassembled for parts to be used by the departing Cardassians.  The destruction of the solar energy farms and the water pumping systems had just been acts of cruelty.

Six years had passed since that time.  The remaining inhabitants had cobbled together some rudimentary equipment that made survival possible, but just barely.  The few remaining shelters had been patched repeatedly using the debris from the ruins of other settlements.  Families slept in the cold, and many adults went without protective clothing, as they had used those fabrics to make clothing for the children or blankets to be shared.  Disease was rampant.

When the group from the Titan arrived, initial conversations were tense.  Upon hearing that Chakotay and three of the others were former Maquis, though, the settlers warmed to their visitors.  The arrival of large cases of food and medical supplies from the Titan also helped.

While Dalby surveyed the settlement, and Ayala and Jor tried to repair the old water purification equipment, Chakotay and Deanna talked at length with one of the village elders, a human named Boe.  They discussed the possibility of additional Starfleet missions to Aldis.  Boe was wary, but he saw the benefit. 

Boe asked Chakotay, “Do you trust Starfleet in this?”

Chakotay glanced at Deanna Riker before giving his honest answer.

“For the most part, yes.  I cannot tell you that their motives are entirely pure because I don’t know all their motives.  I believe everyone on the Titan is here because we believe we can help you, and that none of us have any desire to see your people betrayed again.  And I also believe Starfleet learned a valuable lesson from the mistakes of their treaty with the Cardassians.”

Chakotay leaned forward and looked intently at Boe.

“If you want me to guarantee they will never make decisions you won’t like, or that they will never fail to put your interests first, I can’t do that.  Starfleet is an organization made up of flawed people who make mistakes – I returned to Starfleet because I believe in the ideals of it, but knowing full-well they often fall short.  I returned to try and remind them of those ideals, to speak for the people whose lives are affected by their wars and treaties.”

He continued, “What you have to decide is if trusting them now is worth the risk.  Your people are suffering here, Boe, and right now, the Federation is wanting to make amends for past sins.  Can you afford to turn them away?”

In the end, Boe agreed to working with Starfleet.  Chakotay, however, advised him to establish communications with the people on Fortis – combining the will of two worlds, he told Boe, could give them much greater negotiating power.

As Chakotay and Deanna walked back to the beam out site, the Counselor complimented Chakotay on his honesty with Boe.

“I am not sure he would have accepted those comments from anyone but you,” she said.

Chakotay sighed and said, “Better not let your husband hear that.  I don’t think he would be happy to know that it took a ‘Maquis rebel’ to make this one work.”

Deanna placed a hand on Chakotay’s arm and stopped walking.

“It bothers you, what he said,” she said.

Chakotay shrugged and said, “No more than it bothers me to get screamed at by someone on the street who believes I am a terrorist.”

He started walking again and added bitterly, “I’m used to it.  We all are.”

Deanna called after him, “But it bothers you more when Will does it.”

Chakotay turned and walked back to the Counselor.  He replied, “It bothers me that he thinks it has anything to do with Kathryn.  He knows nothing about our relationship, or what we have been through together.  I am sorry it upsets him that a ‘Maquis traitor’ ended up with his Starfleet princess, but ….”

Deanna interrupted, “Oh, no, you think it has something to do with you and Admiral Janeway!”

“Doesn’t it?” Chakotay asked.  “That was his first dig, the comment about Kathryn ending up me.”

Deanna shook her head.

“No, Captain, that’s not where it comes from.  His anger isn’t about you and Kathryn, it’s about you and his brother.”

“His brother?” Chakotay repeated, a little surprised.

“Yes, Thomas Riker.  Although, I guess you could say they aren’t really brothers – it’s hard to explain.”  

Deanna sat on a large boulder and motioned for Chakotay to sit with her.  She spent the next several minutes explaining the accident on Nervala IV to him.  Then she gave him the brief history of Thomas Riker, up to his desertion from Starfleet and joining the Maquis.

“When Thomas joined the Maquis, Will didn’t know how to handle it.  Thomas wasn’t his brother, Thomas was *him*.  And Thomas did something that Will could never imagine.  Will felt immense anger because of this.”

Chakotay sat silently as Deanna continued.

“After Thomas impersonated Will and stole the Defiant from Deep Space Nine, Will did a lot of detective work.  He found out you were the leader of the Maquis cell Thomas was part of, that you had assigned Thomas to the mission to steal the Defiant.  When Thomas was captured, handed over to the Cardassians, and given a life sentence in their labor camp, Will had a lot of anger.  He was angry at Thomas, he was angry at himself – he transferred a lot of that anger to the Maquis, and to you.  It was easier.”

Chakotay ran his hand through his hair.

“Counselor, I never met Thomas Riker.  My cell operated in the dark – I had dozens of operatives whose faces I had never seen.  Most of them were using pseudonyms.  I remember the name ‘Thomas Riker,’ but I never connected him to William Riker.  I guess I assumed it was a fake name.”

Chakotay leaned forward and turned to look at Deanna.

“Had I known, I would not have come on this mission.”

Deanna smiled at Chakotay with compassion and replied, “Will knows, and he wanted you on this mission - a lot of time has passed since those events.  He knows what you did on Voyager.  He knows your experience could be the thing that makes this mission successful – just look at what you did today.  If Will had come down here to speak with Boe, it would have gone nowhere.  Will knew you would not only be an able representative for Starfleet, he knew you would be passionate about protecting these people.”

She leaned over to look him in the eye.

“He also knows that Kathryn Janeway would never love a man that Starfleet – that he himself – could not trust to be fair and to do right.”

Chakotay was looking at the ground, nodding slightly.

After a minute, he asked, “Should I talk to him?”

“Let me talk to him first,” Deanna replied.  “I am not sure how aware he actually is of his feelings and behavior.  When I point out to him that he’s let some old, misplaced resentments surface, he’ll be mortified.  I’ll let you know when to approach him.”

Their comm badges both sounded and they heard Ken Dalby asking for all team members to meet at the beam out site in five minutes.  Deanna and Chakotay got up and started walking again.

After a few moments of silence, Chakotay spoke again.

“So, you heard Kathryn loves me?” he asked with a large grin.  “Where did you hear that?”

Deanna smiled mysteriously and said, “Girls talk, Captain.  Girls talk.”

------------

Dearest Kathryn,

Our visit to Aldis is going well.  We will be here another couple of days.  It is similar to Dorvan, but so far, I've been OK.

That said, my mind is very unfocused tonight.  I keep thinking about all the people I know, have known, who have suffered.  My family.  The people on these planets.  Even Will Riker – did you know he has a brother, kind of?

There are times when I feel so burdened by the pain of everything wrought by the Cardassian.  It could swallow me whole.  That’s why I joined the Maquis, the pain consumed me and left only anger in its place.  I live in constant fear those demons will rise again and pull me away.

I fear you will see the demons and ask me to go.

But you know they are there, and you have allowed me to stay.  It feels like a miracle.  I am not sure I can explain it better than that – I wish you could, I don't know, BE ME just long enough to understand the difference you have made.  When the flames of my anger and bitterness are fanned, you are a cool stillness, a gently flowing stream that quietly extinguishes the fire.

I love you for that – for so many other things, too.  But after today, I needed to thank you once again.

Thank you, my incredible, beautiful Kathryn.

Love, Chakotay

Chapter Text

Dear Handsome,

I have decided that will be my “pet name” for you.  

I have been reading more of Dr. Love’s book.  Apparently, in the 20th century, it was common for two people who had declared their love for one another to engage in something called “couplespeak.”  Couplespeak would involve the use of personal idioms that solidified the relationship.

In other words, I need a pet name for you.  That’s where the “handsome” comes from.  None of the words that come to mind when I think of you seem, I don’t know, affectionate enough.  Is it a pet name if I call you “compassionate” or “intelligent”?  Those are accurate descriptors for you, but not good pet names.

I read some of the names used by people in the 20th century – I cannot use most of those words and take you seriously.  So you will be spared the indignity of me calling you “snookums” or “honey bunny.”  

At least in public.

Another type of personal idiom won’t be a problem at all – inside jokes and shorthand.  Sometimes I think you and I have developed our own language, one that a few people from Voyager might understand, but not everyone would.  For example, I’ve decided that anytime you do something lovely and unexpected for me, like climbing a trellis with a rose in your mouth, I’m going to refer to it as “building a bathtub.”

The final form of love-solidifying personal idiom is “baby talk.”  

Not gonna happen, handsome.  We’ll just have to find some other way to solidify our relationship.  I have ideas ….

By the way, I realized that despite writing in this thing daily since you left, I never looked at your list of “getting to know you” topics.  So I reviewed it.  I am going to try and address a few of them.

So, what was my greatest fear as a child?  I was afraid of so many things – storms, bad grades, getting in trouble, influenza (had to do a paper on it for a history class when I was 12 – scared the hell out of me), getting laughed at, you name it.  All the sorts of things a young girl might fear.

But I think what frightened me most of all was anyone *knowing* I was afraid.  It felt as though if anyone knew I was afraid of something, their knowing would make it worse.  That if I exposed my fears, they would become more powerful.

So I developed defense mechanisms, ways of distracting myself, or trying to make myself feel bigger and stronger than whatever frightened me.  It was immature, I know.  And probably counterproductive.  But I convinced myself I was doing the right thing by hiding it.

You’ve had your share of experience with that Kathryn.  I tried to hide my feelings for you, thinking that would make them diminish.  Feelings don’t work that way.

I wish I could say I have learned my lesson, that I know better than to hide my fears.  But it’s so ingrained in me, even when I know better.  Do you remember on New Earth when the ion storm struck and we were under the table in our shelter?  I was terrified – and you tried to comfort me.  I know I wasn’t exactly … welcoming … of your comfort.  And when it was over, I couldn’t look at you.  It was all because I let you see me afraid.

In my mind, I knew you didn’t judge me.  And I knew it was completely reasonable to be afraid of that storm.  But it felt as though I had done something terrible by letting you see that.  I knew you thought it was part of my “captain persona,” and it was, a little. But it was mostly plain, old Kathryn – still a girl who was completely convinced she had made things worse for herself by allowing her fear to be known.

I am sure that if our experiment continues, you will eventually run into that Kathryn.  All I can do is ask you to be patient with her.  A lot of the time, she doesn’t know she’s doing it.

Thankfully, patience is something you have in abundance.

I have an appointment with the Doctor later today, so goodbye, for now, Handsome Man.

------------

Kathryn's check-up with the Doctor had gone well.  He had been pleased with her recovery - all of her cognitive skills were as good as they had been before the accident, her lungs were at full capacity, and all of her broken bones had knit together to the Doctor's satisfaction.  Kathryn could honestly say her only lingering issue was some fatigue, but she was managing it well with scheduled breaks and naps.

"You've done a wonderful job putting me back together, Doctor.  Thank you," she said earnestly.

The Doctor didn't even try to hide his triumphant smile.

"I told you if you would work with me, not against me, we would get you back in fighting shape.  Though I would prefer you stay out of fights."

Kathryn smiled and replied, "I always *try* to stay out of them."

He raised an eyebrow and said, "Well, I know how to get in touch with your mother if I need to.  Actually, I should contact her anyway.  I need to congratulate her on her part in your recovery.  She has clearly kept you on your toes.  And she's made sure you've eaten, too.  You've gained eleven pounds since you were brought in nearly four weeks ago."

"Eleven pounds!" Kathryn exclaimed.

She got off the bio bed to look at herself in the reflective surface of a wall panel.  She appeared to be examining herself to find where the eleven pounds were located.  

The Doctor looked at her oddly.

"I said eleven, not eleven hundred.  Why are you looking at yourself so critically, Admiral, I thought you were one of the few humans commendably free of an obsession with weight and looks."

The Admiral turned swiftly, embarrassed to have been called out.

"You are correct, Doctor, it's nothing to be concerned with.  I take it you are releasing me back to full duty?" she replied authoritatively, changing the subject.

He replied, "Yes, but note that your doctor considers 'full duty' to be no more than thirty-five hours a week.  And that's if you are desk bound.  If you travel, you are limited to twenty-five hours."

Kathryn rolled her eyes, "Until when?"

"Until I say so," he replied definitively.

------------

It was mid-afternoon when Kathryn actually left Starfleet Medical.  As she was walking towards Headquarters, she heard someone calling her name.

She turned and saw Beverly Crusher, the new head of Starfleet Medical, striding towards her with a huge smile.

Kathryn returned the smile and said, "Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!  I haven’t seen you since my Voyager debriefings ended."

Dr. Crusher embraced her old friend when she reached her.

"Kathryn, it's so good to see you.  I had heard about your accident shortly after I started back full time here, but was so busy I couldn't get over to see you.  Your Doctor has kept me up to date, though."

Kathryn replied, "It's good to see you, too.  I should have made it to your office by now, but I've actually been trying to avoid Starfleet Medical as much as possible.  I never know if one of your physicians is going to try and restrict my movement again because they saw me stub a toe."

Beverly laughed and said, "I know better than to allow that, I've dealt with captains and admirals long enough.  I don't think your Doctor would have been as restrictive as he was were it not for Gretchen egging him on.  He told me he was more afraid of her than of you."

"That sounds about right," Kathryn conceded.

"Where are you headed right now?” Beverly asked.  “I was going to the café for some real brewed tea, not the replicated stuff.  Would you care to join me?"

"As long as my order can be coffee, I would love to."

The two women arrived at the café, placed their orders and found a quiet corner to settle into.  The chatted for a long time.  Kathryn talked about her accident and recovery, and Beverly talked about some of the more personal details from the Shinzon incident that hadn’t made it into official reports.

"Losing Data … oh, I wish I could explain it.  I've lost people before.  But we were all so certain he would outlive us all.  The thought of him being gone, forever, it hasn't sunk in for most of us."

"How is Jean Luc handling it?" Kathryn asked.

Beverly sighed in frustration

"Like he handles everything like it's just part of the job.  Catalog stellar phenomena, transport supplies, watch a dear friend get blown to bits.  I know it matters to him – I know it.  I just wish he'd show it more."

Kathryn looked at her friend sympathetically.

"Is he acting like losing you is also just 'part of the job'?"

Beverly smiled sadly and replied, "It always has been.  I am just another officer off to do something else.  Just like Will and Deanna.  Just like Worf.  Maybe he's decided we are all interchangeable."

Kathryn shook her head and said, "I doubt it.  He’s just got that mask on too tightly.  Trust me, I know.  I think mine was welded to my face." 

She leaned back in her seat and looked at her coffee thoughtfully. 

"Maybe it's a result of what they teach us in command school.  They tell us we can't be effective leaders if we become too emotionally involved with our crews.  But they forget we are human - we can't turn our emotions off at will, we'd be Vulcans if we could.  But they train us like they expect us to do that very thing."

She smiled at Beverly and said, "It took some prodding from Chakotay to make me figure it out, maybe you need to prod Jean Luc."

"Prodding - is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Beverly responded dryly.

Kathryn laughed out loud and replied, "Oh, if you only knew how far off the mark you are!"

Dr. Crusher started to say something else, but was interrupted.

"Good afternoon, Admiral, Doctor.  Discussing anything of which I should be made aware?"

Fleet Admiral Alynna Nechayev was standing at their table.  Both Kathryn and Beverly sat up straighter - it was a reflex.  They glanced at each other with raised eyebrows, each silently asking the other what they should say in response to Nechayev’s inquiry.

"Well, anything important?" Admiral Nechayev asked.

Beverly finally recovered and said, "No, Admiral, just some, uh … girl talk."

"Oh, I enjoy girl talk," Nechayev replied.  She pulled a chair from a neighboring table and sat with the other two.  She signaled the waiter to bring her spring water to her at her new seat.

After the waiter left, Admiral Nechayev took a sip of her water then looked between the other two.

"Go on," she said, sitting back in her chair.

"Ahhhhh," Beverly began.

"Well, Dr. Crusher was just telling me about how the Enterprise crew reacted to the loss of Commander Data, how hard it was on everyone," Kathryn offered.

"It was.  Very hard," Beverly agreed, nodding.

Admiral Nechayev narrowed her eyes a bit.

"I know I’m a little out of practice, but that’s not what I consider ‘girl talk," she said.  Then, seeing Dr. Crusher falter a bit, one corner of her mouth curled upward and she said, "Unless, of course, you were discussing Jean Luc specifically."

Beverly took a breath and smiled awkwardly in confirmation.

Nechayev nodded and set her water down.  She leaned towards Beverly.

"I am sure he’s taking Commander Data’s death very hard, and I am sure he is missing you.  He’s probably just too damn stubborn to admit it.  Everyone in the Federation knows that man is wild for you.  You just need to make him admit it.  You need to push him on this, encourage him to have that talk with you, you need to …," and she waved a hand vaguely in the air as if looking for a word.

After a beat, Kathryn added innocently "Prod him."

""Yes," replied Admiral enthusiastically, looking right at Beverly.  "He is going to take some prodding.  Every man does, but Jean Luc in particular.  You are really going to have to prod him along.  Believe me, I know, I've had to prod him a couple of times myself."

Beverly was trying desperately to keep a straight face while Kathryn grinned maniacally over her coffee cup.

"Well, Admiral Janeway certainly would know," Beverly suddenly said.  "She's been on the receiving end of some similar romantic … prodding ... herself."

Admiral Nechayev turned to look curiously at Kathryn who was glaring at a sweetly-smiling Dr. Crusher.

"Really Kathryn?  I had no idea you were seeing someone.  Did it happen before your accident?  Is it anyone I know?"

Kathryn kicked Beverly under the table before replying.

"Yes, I am seeing someone, and, officially, it happened after my accident, so it's relatively new."

Beverly interjected, "But they've known each other for a long time, so it's been building."

Kathryn shot her friend another look and said, "It's my former first office, Chakotay."

The two friends were expecting to hear some bizarre dating-as-an-Admiral advice from Alynna Nechayev, like how to play hard to get while remaining firmly in charge.  They were surprised to see a stern look on her face.

"I didn't know you planning to retire, Kathryn" she said coolly.

"I'm not," Kathryn replied with surprise.

Admiral Nechayev raised her eyebrows and said, "Well, I don't know how you think you can keep your career if you become involved with a Maquis."

"Alynna," Beverly admonished.

Kathryn just stared at Nechayev.  She finally said, "He's not Maquis, he's Starfleet.  You should know, you just promoted him to Captain and sent him on a mission."

Admiral Nechayev scoffed and said, "Please.  He's serving one purpose on that trip and one only, to help us access those planets.  They are all Cardassian-haters, we needed one of their kind to get our feet in the door.  And pips are a dime a dozen, it was worth it to throw one at him if he could help us get back on those worlds."

Kathryn and Beverly were dumbfounded.  Nechayev continued

"My concern here isn't him, it's you.  You are still quite young, Kathryn.  You could do great things in Starfleet.  There are a number of committees and task forces I was going to ask you to join, as a matter of fact.  But if you are aligning yourself with a traitor …."

"He's not a traitor!" Kathryn shouted, slamming her coffee cup down.  She didn't care that others in the coffee shop were now watching.

"He never betrayed Starfleet.  He had to try and protect his people, and others, when the Federation refused to.  He had enough respect for Starfleet that he resigned before taking those actions.  He never fired on Fleet vessels, unless they fired on him first, and then he only did to disable weapons, never to destroy.  He never killed or hurt any Starfleet personnel - he was even reticent about killing Cardassians."

Kathryn stood up and looked down at Alynna Nechayev.

"You've got a lot of nerve speaking about him as if he were a criminal.  It was you and your ilk who sold those planets and their inhabitants to the Cardassians in the name of a peace neither they nor you intended to keep.  You made it impossible for men like him to remain in Starfleet."

Admiral Nechayev rose from her chair and stood toe-to-toe with Kathryn.

"Admiral Janeway," she began, but Kathryn kept talking.

"If the Federation had listened to Chakotay, to Owen Paris, to me, to everyone who could see the Cardassian threat for what it was, how many people would still be alive today?  If Starfleet had been as honorable as it should have been ten years ago, Chakotay wouldn't have left.  He would have stayed and fought, he'd have been recognized by you and everyone else as a hero.  Hell, he'd probably be an Admiral now, not me."

"You can dress it up however you want," Nechayev replied angrily.  "He resigned and went rogue, following his own desire for vengeance.  That makes him a traitor."

"Really?" Beverly suddenly piped up.  "Vengeance makes a traitor?  So when you removed Jean Luc from his captaincy, replaced him with your lapdog Jellico, and sent him, Worf and me on a ridiculous mission based on flimsy intelligence, all because you didn't like him, what was that?  Seemed pretty vengeful to us, especially Jean Luc."

Admiral Nechayev shot a look at Beverly but then turned back to Kathryn.

"I advise you to consider your career ahead of your libido, Kathryn." Nechayev said.

Kathryn held her chin up and gave the Admiral her best death glare.

"I prefer to consider in the kind of officer I want to be, not whose lackey I am expected to be.  You can keep your committees and task forces, Alynna.  I have no desire to work with someone who would assassinate the character of one of the finest men I have ever know just to cover for this organization’s, and her own, poor decisions and cowardice a decade ago."

Admiral Nechayev looked coldly at Kathryn, then at Beverly.  Then she walked out of the café. 

Kathryn and Beverly took their seats again and looked at each other.  Neither seemed to know what to say.

Thankfully, at that moment, three Starfleet officers walked up grinning mile-wide grins.

One of them spoke, “Admiral, Doctor, I am Lt. Commander Gary McDonald of the Ottawa.  These are my colleagues, Lt. Lainey Hunter and Lt. Shyl Vannit.  We just wanted to congratulate you on standing up to Admiral Nechayev, it was a remarkable thing to see.”

“Yes, it was,” the officer introduced to them as Shyl Vannit said.  “I am from Bajor, so I definitely have strong feelings about the Cardassians and the Maquis.  I think you both got it right.”

Lt. Hunter, the only female of the three and clearly the youngest looked at Kathryn seriously and said, “I want to be you when I grow up.”

At that statement, all five officers started laughing.  Beverly invited the Ottawa crew to join them for coffee and tea.  The rest of the afternoon was much more enjoyable than the first part had been.

------------

“Good grief, Beverly, have you not eaten this week?”

Kathryn and Beverly had left the café at about six and decided to have dinner.  They had gone to a restaurant known for taking traditional Italian pasta dishes and adding exotic, off-word ingredients.  Beverly apparently hadn’t eaten for a long time – she had consumed nearly every piece of the fried, Riskian cheese ravioli they had ordered as an appetizer.  Now she was nearly through her entire bowl of farfalle pasta with mushrooms and Vulcan Redspice, while Kathryn was still just poking at her salad.

Beverly shrugged and took a large sip of wine.

“What?  Getting in the face of a Fleet Admiral makes me hungry.”

Kathryn just shook her head and set her fork down.

Beverly looked at her and said, “Clearly it doesn’t have the same effect on you.  What’s going on?  The Kathryn I’ve known for nearly twenty years would have fought me for that ravioli.”

Kathryn sighed and looked up at the ceiling.  Then she rested her elbows on the table and put her head in her hands.

“Mm wmpchnng mwyn ette,” she said, her mouth covered by one of her palms.

Beverly looked bewildered and said, “Come again?”

Kathryn looked up and rested her chin on her clasped hands.  This was humiliating.

“I.  Am.  Watching.  My.  Weight,” she replied.

“Why?” Beverly asked, still confused.

Kathryn sat back in her chair and said, “Because.”

“Not good enough, Kathryn.  What’s going on?”  Beverly replied.

“Ugh,” Kathryn thought.  Then she remembered what she had written to Chakotay just that morning, about her unwillingness to admit her fears.

Might was well just get it all out there.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and said, quietly and quickly, “I am watching my weight because the Doctor told me I’ve put on eleven pounds in four weeks, and I am anxious about gaining weight because I realized recently exactly how middle-aged my body is, and the man I love, who has never seen me naked, by the way, apparently spent two or three months having sex with the shapeliest, most beautiful woman I have ever known, and I am afraid he, intentionally or not, will compare my body to hers, and I don’t need any more pounds making me so self-conscious that I ultimately decide to *not* sleep with him and end up chasing him away.”

Kathryn opened her eyes to see what her friend’s reaction was.

Beverly was sitting across from her, wine glass in hand.  Her head was tilted and she seemed to be thinking.

“OK, what?” Kathryn finally asked.

Beverly took another log sip of wine and returned to her pasta.  She stabbed a piece of farfalle – but before she put it in her mouth, she pointed it at Kathryn and said, “I know exactly what you mean.”

Then she put the pasta in her mouth and started chewing.

Kathryn looked at her with narrowed eyes.

“You do?  Why?”

Beverly put her fork down and looked at her friend with a smile.

“Do you think Jean Luc has only ever had eyes for me?  Do you have any idea of the women he’s been with over the years, women so gorgeous they make me feel like I am nothing but legs and hands and feet?”

“Really?” Kathryn said doubtfully.  She had a hard time imagining Beverly Crusher ever feeling anything other than tall and beautiful.

“Really,” Beverly said emphatically.  “A few years ago, when we were on that mission to deal with the Sona, he met this woman named Anij.”

She rolled her eyes and repeated, “Anij,” but in a deeper, sexier voice.

“That woman was all hips and breasts and hair,” Beverly continued.  “Everything about her was voluptuous.  Even her eyes.  I didn’t know it was possible to have voluptuous eyes, yet there she was, with a paid of 34, double-D eyes.”

Beverly leaned forward in her chair.

“And Jean Luc ate it all up.  He was by her side the entire time, waxing poetic about stopping time with her.  It made me sick.”

She picked up her wine glass and downed what was left in it.

“It took a night of wine and conversation, and wine, with Deanna, before I calmed down.  Dee said, and quite rightly, that Anij – ugh, what a ridiculous name – that Anij was what people used to call ‘eye candy.’  And while candy can be fun for a while, love fed on sweets alone cannot grow.  That real love has to be nourished.  And that while Jean Luc might have a passing infatuation with Anij, he ultimately wanted someone who fed his mind, his humor, and his soul.  Dee said that was me.  And that Anij only could ever be sweets for his eyes.”

Then Beverly looked at Kathryn, somewhat defiantly, as if challenging her to disagree.

Kathryn reached for her own wine glass and took a long drink. 

She looked at Beverly and asked, “What does that have to do with me worrying about how I look naked?”

Beverly crossed her arms and said, “It has to do with it because you are assuming that all Chakotay sees you as is body parts.  Like I was doing with Jean Luc.  You assume Chakotay doesn’t look at you through the lenses of everything else you are to him.  Eyes that love don’t catalog the physical imperfections in the other person, they don’t dwell on them.”

Kathryn considered this.  She could see it.  Sort of.

Beverly could tell she still wasn’t convinced so she asked, “Kathryn, what do you see when you look at Chakotay?”

“I see his dimples.  I see his smile, his eyes, his tattoo.  I see his height and his strength,” she replied.

“Do you see a flat, muscled abdomen like you might see on a Greek statue?” Beverly asked.

“No,” Kathryn chuckled.

“Middle-age spread?” Beverly asked.

“I guess.”

“Then why didn’t you list that when I asked you what you see?  Why didn’t you mention he might be a little wobbly around his midsection?”

Kathryn looked at her friend, smiled and said, “Because I honestly don’t see it.  I just see him.”

Beverly smiled back and tilted her head to the side.

“Why don’t you think he can be as gracious as you?  Why do you think he isn’t capable of the same kind of love?” she asked.

Kathryn smiled, then sighed, and smiled again.

“I don’t know,” she finally said.  “I guess it’s my insecurities?  Despite being an admiral ….”

“… for now,” Beverly interrupted, “we don’t know yet if Alynna has had us court martialed.”

“Despite being an admiral,” Kathryn continued, “And despite making it through the Delta Quadrant and everything else, I think part of me still feels like a scared adolescent, a girl who is afraid she won’t measure up.”

“You know we all feel like that,” Beverly said.

They sat in silence for a while.

“So, I need to get over it?” Kathryn asked.

“Yes,” Beverly replied, “and it’s easier said than done.  But yes.”

At that moment, the waiter brought their checks.  The women paid for their meals and started to walk out of the restaurant.

“Beverly?” Kathryn asked as they stepped onto the sidewalk.

The doctor looked at her friend expectantly in response.

“You’re right,” Kathryn finally said.  “Anij really is a ridiculous name.”

“Damn straight,” Beverly muttered.

------------

Dear Handsome Man,

It occurs to me I should to define “Handsome” for you.  At least the way I am using it.

I want you to know that I think all of you is handsome.  I don’t mean all of you physically, like from your head to your feet.  Although I am certain your toes are among the most magnificent toes to ever walk the planet.  But when I call you “handsome,” I am talking about who you are.

When you agreed that saving the Ocampans was more important than getting home quickly, that was handsome.

When you agreed to be my first officer, that was handsome.

When you looked after me on Voyager, making sure I ate and slept, even when I made that job impossible, that was handsome.

You were so handsome when you forgave me for what happened with the Equinox.  Even when you were sad, when we cried together over the death of Joe Carey, you were handsome.

You are handsome when you joke with B’Elanna and Tom, when you play with Miral, or when you help my mother in the kitchen.  You are handsome when you talk to me about the latest news from Sekaya. 

You are handsome when you put up with my moods, when you are patient in the face of my anger.  You are handsome when you let me share your burdens.

That’s what I mean when I say everything about you is handsome.  Those qualities will keep you handsome forever, even when we are both old and fat and gray.  

My sweet, handsome man.

Love, Kathryn

Chapter Text

My dearest Kathryn,

Once again, I find myself wishing so very much you were here.  Not for the usual reasons, though.  

I’ve spent so many hours on Aldis.  I’ve gotten to know many of the people and learned their stories.  The thing I told you I feared, it happened.  This place reminds me very much of Dorvan.

But Kathryn, my time here has shown me how right you were when you said this trip might help me.  Do you remember that night?  When I told you about this mission, and I got so irritated because I thought you only wanted me to go because it was Starfleet asking?  You probably should have walked out – instead, you helped me see how important coming here might be, not only to help these people but to help me heal.  And it has helped.

It’s a strange feeling.  This place is so much like Dorvan.  The structures are similar, the ways of the communities are similar.  Even the people feel familiar.  None of my own are here, but I have met others who are from different North American indigenous groups – Choctaw, Sioux, Chumash, Aleuts.  They aren’t my people, they aren’t my family.  But they feel familiar.

I had been afraid if I found Aldis to be too much like Dorvan, then I would react the way I did before, and the man I used to be would reawaken.  I feared being overcome by the anger I had when I left home, and then when I found out my home had been destroyed.  I don’t want be only an angry warrior again.

And I’m not.  It’s not that the situation is different, it’s that *I* am different.  I’ve walked around these damaged communities, seen things and heard stories that would have made me rage ten years ago.  Now, instead of just reacting, I feel free to act constructively.  In doing so, I am healed.

You knew this would happen, didn’t you?  I have said you are my peace.  You are.  I guess I didn’t realize how far into me you can see, that you can recognize the parts that still need soothing.  And you know what I need to do to find it.

Thank you so much.

You know, I still feel bad about that night.  I was so ready to believe you were putting Starfleet over us.  It was nothing you did, though, it was my own insecurity reacting to your good, and innocent, advice.  I hate to write this down – I might go back later and scratch it out – but I think I just keep waiting for you to wake up and realize I am not Starfleet enough for you.  That I’m simply not good enough for you.

I don’t know where this comes from.  Despite my … complaints, I guess … about “protocol” on Voyager, I have never felt you looked down on my lack of a Starfleet pedigree.  I have only ever felt respect from you, even when we disagreed.  Why am I projecting my insecurities onto you?

Maybe, as we spend more time together, I will learn more from your confidence and self-assurance.

That sounds really, horribly unromantic doesn’t it?  I’ll aim for more romance the next time I write.

I love and miss you, Kathryn.  Wherever you are tonight, I hope you know it.

------------

The Titan had spent five days at Aldis.  Chakotay and his group had laid the groundwork for further cooperation between the planet and the Federation, and many of the Titan crew had spent multiple volunteer hours in various communities helping to repair structures and equipment.  The Aldis inhabitants were still wary of Federation involvement in their planet, but they were definitely grateful for the supplies and assistance the ship had brought.

The Titan senior staff were meeting with Chakotay and his team to review the status of various larger projects nearing completion.  Another ship would be arriving in a couple of days to help with many of the smaller tasks, but Captain Riker didn't want to leave until they were certain all the inhabitants had access to food, clean water, shelter, and warm clothing.  He also wanted to make sure long-range communications would be possible so the Aldis residents could speak with those on Foutis, or reach Starfleet in case of any emergency.

Chakotay had finished his report on repairs to residential heating and cooling equipment, the last item on the morning agenda.  As the meeting drew to a close, Captain Riker had gotten noticeably fidgety.  Deanna Riker, however, seemed perfectly serene.

"That about does it.  With your leave, we'll head back down and complete the testing of the water filtration system," Chakotay said, rising and looking at his team.  Ayala, Jor, and Bandera all started to get up, too, but Will Riker spoke up.

"Could you wait for a minute, Captain Chakotay?  You and your group, just a few minutes?"

The Titan senior staff, including Harry Kim, all walked out of the briefing room.  Harry looked back sadly.  He still wasn't used to not being part of Chakotay’s team. 

The four Voyagers retook their seats.  Counselor Riker stayed in her seat a little apart from her husband and the others.

Will looked at his hands laying on the briefing table.  After a moment, he looked up, then looked at each of the four Voyagers one at a time.

"I believe I owe all of you an apology.  I have said some things that I should not have - I didn't think how they would sound to you."

There was no reaction from the five others in the room, save a raised eyebrow from Kurt Bandera.

Will continued saying, "I haven't been particularly positive about the Maquis in our discussions.  I want you to know how sorry I am.  I really don't have an issue with the Maquis - and definitely not the four of you.  And making you the targets of my … anger … isn't fair.  Or accurate."

He turned to look at his wife.  She gave him an encouraging smile.

Will signed and ran a hand down his beard.  He looked at the four across the table from him.

"I have a brother.  Sort of a twin brother, except he's not really a twin, he's me.  A duplicate.  It's an odd story …."

Chakotay interjected "It's OK, Captain, I have filled them in on how Thomas Riker came to be."

Will looked relieved to not have to tell the story again.  He leaned back in his chair.

"Finding out Thomas existed was a bizarre thing.  He was me, up to a point.  For eight years, he led a pretty miserable existence while I moved through the ranks of Starfleet.  He stood still, trapped, while I lived the life I had always expected.  After we found him and he moved to another ship, it felt like my life was splitting in two – it wasn’t the fact there were two William Thomas Rikers out there, it was the fact he was going to go do things I never did.  And I was going to see how things would have turned out for me if I had made different decisions."

Will chuckled and said, "He was going to be a living example of the paths not taken."

"I am sure we can all appreciate the strangeness of that," Mike Ayala said.

Will nodded, then got up and started pacing a little.

"But Thomas wasn't having it as easy as he or I expected.  I don't know if it was living in my shadow - a shadow I had no desire to cast, of course - or just the years of isolation affecting him more than we realized, but Starfleet wasn't working out for him.  And I was pretty angry about it.  He was me, and I succeeded, why couldn't he?"

Will stopped his pacing near Deanna's seat.  She grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"He commed me one night," Will continued.  "He was frustrated, unsure of himself.  And I didn't want to hear it.  Because I wasn’t seeing him, I was seeing me - I was seeing myself being frustrated and unsure, and it was a hard thing.  I reacted like a coward.  I made an excuse and ended the comm."

The Titan’s Captain looked out the window at the planet.

"He resigned from Starfleet the next day, joined the Maquis a week later."

Will walked back to his chair and sat down.  He drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, deciding whether or not to continue.

He looked at the four Voyagers and said, "What made it particularly hard was that I actually was envious of him."

"Envious?" Kurt asked curiously.

Will leaned forward against the table shaking his head, a disbelieving half-smile on his face.

"The thing is, I hated the Cardassians - hated them," he said firmly.  "I had had never liked how Starfleet gave up so much in the treaty.  Then what they did to Captain Picard …" and his voice trailed off and he grimaced.

Then he waved a hand towards Chakotay and said, "And, of course, I was on the mission to force the settlers on Dorvan to accept Cardassian rule."

He stared at Chakotay for a while, just shaking his head.  The he continued.

"And I just continued in my career.  Let other people deal with the fallout.  I was a good officer, obeying orders that turned my stomach and questioning nothing.  When I heard the colony on Dorvan was destroyed, I felt complicit, like I had handed the Cardassians phaser rifles and ordered them to shoot."

Will sounded disgusted with himself.  Chakotay started to speak but, catching a small head shake from Deanna, sat back.

"But Thomas did something about it.  He walked away from his career, and from safety, to make a stand.  And I was SO. ANGRY.  He was taking the path I never could.  When I found out he joined the Maquis, it felt like proof he was the better man.”  

“And you couldn't reach out to him, could you?” Olandra Jor asked.  “You had committed to your path, and that path declared him your enemy.”

Will nodded.

“It did.  And rather than try and find a way to deal with it, I just stayed angry.”

He sighed and said, “I was able to just ignore it for a long time.  Then he was captured on that mission to Deep Space Nine, and sent to Cardassia.  And, once again, I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.”

Captain Riker looked at Captain Chakotay and took a deep breath.  He said, “I know you didn’t know who he was, Deanna told me.  But yours was the only name I had in connection to the mission.  I'm not sure when I decided to focus my frustration on you and the Maquis, but at some point I did.”

Chakotay looked at Will apologetically and said, “I wish I could say I knew him.  But I honestly never met him.  I am fairly certain I thought the name was fake – many of our operatives were using fake identities, for many reasons.”

Chakotay chuckled and added, “It’s probably for the best – had I known I basically had Will Riker in my cell, I might have used him very differently.  And this meeting might not have been so friendly.”

Will smiled slightly and nodded,

“I knew Thomas,” Kurt said quietly.

“You did?” Deanna asked, leaning forward with interest.

“Yes,” he replied.  “We were on few assignments together, and spent a lot of our downtime at the same safe houses.”

Kurt looked at Will.

“Captain, I can’t pretend to understand what your experience with Thomas must be like – he’s a different person, but not, he’s your brother, but not.  But I can tell you one thing about him.  He was proud of you.”

Will’s eyebrows shot up and he replied, “He was?  Why?”

Kurt leaned forward on the table and said, “He knew the man you were.  He never spoke about you as though you were hiding in Starfleet, or were sympathetic to the Cardassians, or that you hated he Maquis.  He admired how you handled your career, and he knew you were someone in Starfleet who understood the threat posed by Cardassia.  He talked about you like you were truly a counterpart.”

“I think,” Kurt continued, “that Thomas believed you were doing the same work he was, but within the system.  He believed you were trying to make the Federation safe for everyone.  He was doing the same thing, but outside the system.”

Kurt shrugged and added, “I think he was glad he could act in one way, and you in another, both for the same goal.  He saw you as his partner.”

Deanna Riker got up and walked to her husband, putting her hand on his shoulder.  He was smiling at Kurt, then at the rest of the group.

“So, he didn’t resent me, then,” Riker eventually replied.

Kurt chuckled a little and said, “Not sure about that – you did get the girl ….”

Then, seeing a slight flash of pain on Will and Deanna’s faces, he quickly added, “But he was okay with that, too.  He understood.  He really did.”

Deanna thanked Kurt with her eyes, sat next to her husband, and took his hand. 

“Will really didn’t know his unsettled feelings about Thomas were affecting his interactions with you so much,” she said to the Voyagers.  “He felt quite awful when I pointed it out.”

“And I admire all of you so much for what you are doing,” Will added passionately.  “Everything you have been through and lost, and yet you are here helping others.  No one would have blamed you for just walking away when you got back to Earth, but all of you remained in Starfleet to make it better.”

He looked directly at Chakotay and added, “I am proud to call you colleagues.  I would be even prouder to call you my friends.”

------------

The last of the primary repair projects on Aldis were finished.  A team engineers, technicians, and medics from the Titan would be left at the planet to further catalog the needs of the settlements and to prepare for the arrival of second follow-up team Captain Riker had requested.  Chakotay felt a little optimistic about the future of these worlds – the ships that would be coming to Foutis and Aldis were not bringing materials to build bases or install weapons.  Instead, they were bringing teams typically used in the later stages of terraforming and planetary settlement.

It was late in the afternoon of the Titan’s last day in orbit.  Before the ship left, though, Chakotay had one more person to see.

He had met one of the few surviving community elders not long after his initial meeting with Boe.  If the man had a given name, no one had provided it – everyone simply called him "Imafo," a version of the Choctaw word for “grandfather.”  He was in his 80’s, weather worn and walking with a pronounced limp.  Boe said Imafo had come to Aldis from another planet, no one knew which, right before the Cardassian bombardments started.  Because of his limp, Imafo was not expected to fight.  Instead, he organized and monitored the children.

He was the oldest living person left on the planet.

When Chakotay met him, Imafo looked at his face and his tattoo and said, “You are far from the Rubber Trees, Ushi.”  Imafo had called him the word for “son” in his Choctaw language.

Chakotay had looked at him in some surprise and asked, “You know my people?”

Imafo had nodded and said, “I do.  I know many people.”  Then he embraced Chakotay and said, “And we are all brothers, aren’t we?”

Chakotay had spent at least two or three hours a day with Imafo since meeting him.  He told Imafo about his life’s journey: Dorvan, Starfleet, Maquis, and Voyager.  He told him about losing his parents.  And he told him about finding Kathryn Janeway.

Imafo told Chakotay about his life’s journey: a Choctaw father and a Maori mother, his training as a horticulturist for terraformed planets, his marriage to a Bajoran woman, the accident that took her life and maimed his leg, his aimless wandering for decades and eventual settlement on a planet he saw ravaged by Cardassians. 

Both men had known loss, both men had found peace.  Chakotay found it knowing and loving Kathryn.  Imafo found it knowing and loving the families of Aldis.

Both men also shared a love of woodworking.  Chakotay had learned many of the basic skills as a child, and had mainly used it to build things for use, like the bathtub and headboards on New Earth.  Imafo was happy to build things when needed by his community, but what gave him the greatest joy was using wood for artistic expression.

Chakotay admired the carvings of animals and people Imafo had done for the children in his care to play with.  Mike and Chakotay had played chess on a set the old settler had carved.  The whistles he made were used by everyone to call their families home at meal times, with each family group having a unique sound and note sequence in their whistles.

On the last day, Chakotay found Imafo in his work tent using a sharp tool to make small scratches in a large, thin sheet of wood.  As he approached, Chakotay saw the scratches taking shape.  He saw the outline of a tree and a large animal, maybe a horse.

“Will you paint these when you are done so the images will stand out more?” Chakotay asked as he leaned over to get a better look.

Imafo smiled and shook his head.  He pointed to a box in the corner of his tent and said, “Hand that to me, Ushi, and close the tent flap.”

Chakotay did as he was told.  Imafo turned off the lamp next to his chair and then flipped a switch on the box.  A light came on inside it.  Imafo laid the piece of wood on the top of the box and pointed to the gray blanket he had tied across the ceiling of his tent.

Chakotay looked up, and his breath caught in his throat.

The scratches he thought Imafo was making were actually thin cuts in the wood.  The light from the box coming through the cuts cast images on the blanket.

“Oh,” Chakotay breathed, “You are creating shadow casts.”

“I prefer to think of it as illustrating my stories,” Imafo replied, looking at the ceiling with satisfaction.  “But, yes, I use shadow casting as a tool.”

He reached over to take another sheet of wood and replaced the first piece with the second.  Now, the images on the blanketed ceiling were the outlines of flowers.

“I have not been able to work with these for a long time.  When things were at their worst after the Cardassians left, I gave my supply of wood to the families to patch their roofs.  I missed carving, but they needed warm homes more than I needed to carve.”

He looked at Chakotay and smiled.

“Since you and your friends have come and repaired the homes, many people have brought unused sheets back to me.  I am thankful to carve again.  You did not know you were doing that for me when you arrived here, did you, Ushi?”

Chakotay kneeled at Imafo’s side, still looking at the ceiling.  Then he looked at the sheet of wood on the light box.

“The cuts are so small.  You aren’t cutting out entire shapes, you are cutting lines that draw the pictures with the light.”

He looked at Imafo and said, “If I can get you more wood, could you show me how you do this?”

Imafo looked at him and said, “I am happy to show you, though you don’t have to bribe me to do it.”

Chakotay smiled and said, “It’s not a bribe.  I want to be sure you have plenty more stories to show me when I return.  You will need many supplies for that, Imafo,”

The older man nodded in acceptance.  Then he removed the sheet with the flowers and placed the first sheet back on it.  He studied it for a moment, as though planning his next cuts.

“I am pleased you want to learn to cast shadows, Ushi,” Imafo said as stared at the lines of the mointain.

Chakotat held the sheet with the flowers up to his face, his eyes narrowed as he stared intently at the tiny cuts.

“Actually,” he muttered, mostly to himself, “I want to cast light.”

------------

“I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day, when it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May.”

I’ve been listening to those Motown songs again, Kathryn.  The lyrics are sometimes a little immature, even a little silly.  I wonder, how old were the people singing these songs?  They keep referring to each other as “girl” and “boy.”  That line I wrote above is from a song called “My Girl.”  But these singers sound like adults.

I checked the book, Dr. Love says nothing about “girl” and “boy” being used interchangeably for “male” and “female” during the 20th century.  But I can’t believe these were all school-aged people singing these songs.

All of that totally aside, that lyric makes me think of you.  Thinking of you makes my day brighter.

Did you know there “ain’t no sunshine when you’re gone?”

And did you know you “can’t hurry love”?  That one has special resonance for you and me, doesn’t it?  “You can’t hurry love, no, you just have to wait.  You’ve got to trust, give it time, no matter how long it takes.”  It took us a while.  It still is.  I am glad we didn't hurry it.

Will you think less of me if I tell you I feel almost giddy sometimes listening to these songs and thinking of you?

Then there’s one … oh, Kathryn.  The people who sing it are incredible.  It sounds like they really mean the words they are singing, they are so passionate.  It’s called “Endless Love.”  

When I listen to it and think of you, my heart beats faster. 

I still haven’t found the song, what did you call it, our slow dance song?  This “Endless Love” song is close, but not it yet.

I am rambling, aren’t I?  

I feel so good today.  I think I now have a friend in Will Riker – I didn’t get too much into it before because I wasn’t sure what was happening, and I'll explain it when I see you.  But he talked with me and the team today.  He is more like me than I realized.  

We left Aldis a hour ago.  We did good work there.  I want to come back here one day, Kathryn, and I hope you will come with me.  It’s not Dorvan.  But I want you to see it, regardless.

You know that little boy you like talking about, the one with the brown eyes and dimples who played and laughed on Dorvan so long ago?  I’ve seen him more clearly here – I’ve remembered him.  I have more of him to share with you, and I think I can do it here.

I don’t think interplanetary travel was part of courtship in the 20th century.  Perhaps we can improvise?

Good night, my sunshine, my Kathryn.

Chapter Text

Dear Handsome,

You’ve been gone six weeks today.  I’ve written in this book each day.  I looked back at some of the things I’ve shared – I got pretty sentimental here and there, didn’t I?

Just not feeling it today, Handsome.  

I am back at Starfleet full-time – the actual full-time, not that false full-time the Doctor approved a couple of weeks ago.  Staying at my apartment during the week, but home to mom’s on the weekends.

These last couple of days … ugh, Chakotay, what was I thinking, missing this place?  Those whom the gods wish to punish, they make admirals.  It’s incredibly frustrating. There is work to be done out there, important work.  *Interesting* work.  

Instead of being out there among the stars, or working in a lab, or even engaging with cadets, I sit in my office and read reports.  Actually, I read summaries of reports.  It’s a given among the staff here at HQ that no admiral has the time to read full reports – and if one has the time, she does not have the interest.  

But I really do have the interest.  I’ve tried getting access to full reports, and I get dismissed.  Then I am expected to go to meetings to discuss the topics of the reports.  How can I do that when I don’t know the details?

Here’s an example.  Starfleet is looking at changing regulations regarding emergency rations for starships.  I was given a summary of the report – basic stuff regarding nutrients, species-based dietary restrictions, and storage.  There was nothing particularly noteworthy in the summary.  I go to a meeting of approximately ten admirals, we are asked if we have any comments about the proposed changes, no one does, and we move on.

Then I see Tom Paris in the cafeteria one day.  He was with his dad.  They were talking about the ridiculous changes to emergency rations policies – turns out, one of the changes will cut the variety of offerings by half or more.  Instead of there being five breakfast options, there will be only two.  Instead of eight lunch and dinner options, there will be only four.

We were the only ship to actually rely on those rations long-term, in space, for survival – I am the only person at HQ who's led a crew in those conditions.  Had I been allowed to see the full report, I would have recognized the potential problems with such limitations.  I could have explained how “survival” is more than access to basic nutrients, that crews need things to look forward to.  I could have shared with them how something as small as a little variety in emergency rations could fuel a crew’s positive attitude in the worst times.

Do you remember, in the early days, how excited Harry would get when he drew one of the Stroganoff packs?   There were times I think that was all that kept him going, the thought of one more plate of Stroganoff.

There’s also the fact that the policies on supplementing rations with local food sources, if available, are, in some cases, in direct conflict with security rules about away teams on planets with pre-warp civilizations, and with Starfleet Medical rules about harvesting and consuming alien produce.

No one on that committee has ever been where we were.  They’ve never had to try and keep a crew motivated in long-term, harsh circumstances.  They’ve never had to find a way to make contradictory rules work.

Our experience in the Delta Quadrant should have been used to inform that entre discussion.  But instead, I was given a summary of a report.

You know, as I sit here writing this, I realize how ridiculous it sounds for me to be this out-of-sorts over rations policies.  And it’s not really about that particular policy.  It’s that I feel I have something to offer, but no one is interested.  I want to do more than shuffle padds from one side of HQ to the next.  It’s frustrating as hell that they aren’t going to let me.

It’s also frustrating to realize how many of my colleagues really thrive on the bureaucracy of it all.  They read their report summaries, act as though they are fully informed, and make decisions.  They don’t want to have to understand a lot of what they read, they are comfortable letting others understand

They never ask questions.  They just accept what they are given.  

I am sorry for just complaining.  It’s just … I know you get me.  I know you understand the need to be doing something, not just being busy.

There are a couple of projects I’m working on that keep me engaged.  I wish you were here so I could talk with you about them!  You are so good at helping me see alternative viewpoints.

I guess you could say that I actually do love you as much for your mind as your body.  That brain of yours is sexy as hell, Handsome.

Almost forgot – you remember going to the drive-in with Tom and B’Elanna?  You remember them in the back seat?  Well, guess who’s pregnant?

------------

In the two weeks since their confrontation with Fleet Admiral Nechayev, Kathryn and Beverly had spent a lot of time together.  Beverly, who had felt like she was having to reinvent her life after leaving the Enterprise, was happy to have a familiar friend to hang out with.  And since Kathryn's outlook on all things Starfleet had changed a bit after her accident and her relationship with Chakotay, she had decided to spent more time on the "life" half of her work-life balance.

Kathryn still missed Chakotay terribly.  Because of ongoing interference with communications between Earth and the border planets, they had been totally unable to engage in real-time subspace communication.  Kathryn had put everything she had to say to him in the journal Chakotay had given her – she was worried that he would have to tack another three months onto their courtship experiment just for time to read all she had written him.

Beverly had limited communication with Jean Luc as well.  The difference was there was no signal-warping nebula between Earth and the Enterprise, Jean Luc was just being annoyingly taciturn.

Neither woman had much time to dwell on it.  Despite Nechayev’s hint to the contrary, both officers were involved in a number of task forces, and were even on a couple together.  They were co-chairing the committee examining the ethical issues resulting Voyager’s use of the EMH as the ship’s doctor.  The consequences of essentially creating a new form of sentient life out of practical necessity was not something either officer took lightly.

The two were eating lunch at the Starfleet Headquarters cafeteria one day after a four-hour meeting examining various laws regarding sentience when they heard a familiar baritone call "Beverly" from a few feet away.

They turned and saw Captain Jean Luc Picard standing nearby holding a large box.

Beverly stared at him, her mouth open a little.  He stared right back, uncomfortably shifting his weight from one foot to the other.  Kathryn, looking between the two and realizing neither appeared ready to blink, much less speak, said, "Captain, how good to see you.  Please join us."

Jean Luc walked to their table slowly.  Beverly eyed him warily as he reached for a chair.

Kathryn didn't actually roll her eyes, but she was tempted to.  Jean Luc was actually moving the chair to make it equidistant from each of them.  Not too close to Beverly, lest that come across as too aggressive, but also not too far away from her lest that seem standoffish.

"We really never get out of high school" Kathryn thought as she sipped her coffee and looked at her two friends.

After several more seconds of awkward silence, Kathryn kicked Beverly under the table.  Beverly shot her a look and tried to kick her back.  She missed and kicked Jean Luc instead.

"Ow," Jean Luc said, looking between the two women.  He wasn't sure which one did it.

"She did it," Kathryn quickly said. 

More silence.

Kathryn sighed in exasperation and said, "Oh, for crying out loud.  What are you doing here, Jean Luc?  How are you?  Is the Enterprise in orbit?  What's in the box?"

He responded in reverse order.

"I've got one of Data’s paintings for Beverly in the box.  Yes, the Enterprise is in orbit, we will be here for a few weeks.  I am OK, if a little unsettled.  And I am here because apparently you," and he nodded at Beverly, "have done something to piss off Alynna Nechayev.  Which is why I am unsettled."

"What?" Beverly choked out.

"... the hell?" Kathryn finished for her.

Jean Luc sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, apparently pleased to now feel he had the upper hand in the conversation with the two sputtering officers.

"Yes," he replied with a raised eyebrow, "I have been called back to Earth by our dear Fleet Admiral because she is concerned you are not taking your new responsibilities seriously enough."

He looked pointedly at Kathryn and said, smiling, "It would seem Admiral Nechayev believes you are a bad influence on our innocent Dr. Crusher.  And I have been instructed to swoop in and save dear Beverly from you, and from herself."

He looked back at Beverly and, shaking his head, said, "I can't leave you alone for even two months without getting comms from admirals about you causing trouble."

And he grinned.

Beverly really-really-really-really-really wanted to slap the grin right off of him, but in that moment, she had a much bigger fish to fry.  As did Kathryn.

"That arrogant, ego-maniacal …." Kathryn said as she threw down her napkin and started to rise from her chair.

"... know-it-all, witch," Beverly added as she also stood.

But Jean Luc reached over and grabbed both of their hands.

"Wait, before you march into her office and say things you can't unsay," he said calmly.  "There's more for me to tell you."

He looked around the cafeteria.  They were attracting stares.

"But let's not discuss it here.  Admiral, can we go to your office?" he asked.

"Mine's closer," Beverly said sharply, "but you wouldn't know that, would you."

Jean Luc looked at her, chastened.  He reached to place his hand on hers.

"I know.  We have a lot to talk about.  Why don't you lead us to your office, Beverly, I would love to see it."

Beverly looked at him, her expression softening just a bit, and nodded.

The three rose to leave.  As they exited the cafeteria, Jean Luc turned to Kathryn and asked, "When did the two of you start finishing each other's sentences?"

------------

Safely ensconced in Beverly’s office, away from the prying eyes and ears of Starfleet gossips, Captain Picard explained to Admiral Janeway and Dr. Crusher how he ended up returning to Earth.  He had gotten a subspace call from a very irate Alynna Nechayev about two weeks ago.  She had contacted him ostensibly to get an update on his ongoing conversations with the new Romulan government, but she ended up complaining about Beverly’s friendship with Kathryn.

"I am surprised any officer who spent so much time under your command would be so cavalier about loyalty to Starfleet," she had said pointedly.

"Admiral," he had replied, "what have either Dr. Crusher or Admiral Janeway done to lead you to suspect disloyalty from either of them?"

Nechayev huffed and said, "I know how you feel about the Cardassians, Jean Luc.  And given your experience, I can make some sense of it.  But even you have never set one foot down the kind of path that Kathryn Janeway is considering, aligning yourself with a Maquis traitor.  And Beverly cannot be associated with someone who is involved with a Maquis.  They will both destroy their careers."

Jean Luc's eyes had widened and he had leaned forward,

"Destroy their careers?  You can't be serious, Admiral."

But Nechayev had just nodded and replied, "I am serious.  And believe me, Captain, people at Starfleet are taking notice.  Maybe you should reschedule your upcoming warp core maintenance for Earth instead of a starbase and see if you can help Beverly understand the seriousness of associating with Maquis sympathizers."

Jean Luc correctly heard Admiral Nechayev’s "suggestion" as a "command."  He cancelled the maintenance planned for Starbase 15 and instructed the bridge to set a course for Earth.

Then he commed Admiral Owen Paris.

"Admiral Paris assures me this is nothing to worry about, this is just typical Alynna Nechayev overreaction to something that doesn't fit into her neat little plans for everyone and everything," he told Kathryn and Beverly.  "What I want to know is what happened to set her off."

Kathryn and Beverly gave an edited version of their run-in with Admiral Nechayev at the cafe, leaving out the part of their discussion dealing with Jean Luc and "prodding."  When they finished, the Captain looked at the Admiral sympathetically,

"You know Nechayev has had an attitude about the Maquis for years.  When Voyager disappeared, she wanted you declared destroyed and dead almost immediately, and she wanted the Maquis blamed.  She has it in her head that she can somehow, almost single-handedly, deliver peace between Cardassia and the Federation, if she can just get everyone to do exactly what she says."

"The fact that what she says is ill-informed and short-sighted be damned, I guess," Kathryn remarked a little bitterly.

"If Jean Luc and Owen Paris say don't worry about it, then we shouldn't," Beverly said.  She had thawed even more towards her former Captain since arriving in her office.  Jean Luc’s constant longing looks towards her weren’t hurting, either.

Kathryn sighed and said, "I hope so.  I am less concerned about myself having an enemy in Admiral Nechayev than Chakotay and the other former Maquis from Voyager.  If she messes with any of them, though, she's going to have one very angry Janeway on her hands.  And I am not talking about me, I’m talking about my mom."

Beverly chuckled and said, “I’d actually like to see that.”

Jean Luc smiled at Kathryn and said, "I am pleased to hear about you and Captain Chakotay.  He seems like a very interesting man, with a fascinating background."

Kathryn looked at him with interest and said, "You were part of the mission to Dorvan back when it was finally ceded to Cardassia, weren't you?  What do you remember about it?  Not the mission, the planet.  And the people."

Jean Luc looked at his tea, then at Beverly.  Beverly smiled at him sadly.

He finally said, "I hated that mission.  I liked the people we met a great deal.  They had a wonderful peace about them.  And they were so intimately involved with their own history.  I did not want to leave them there, but they had the right to stay, if the Cardassians agreed to it.  Which they did.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, then said, “I wish I could say I was surprised when it all went to hell.”

Beverly looked at Kathryn and said, “We were all horrified when we learned about the slaughter.  I can understand why Chakotay left Starfleet over it.”

Kathryn nodded sadly.

“It was a very tough thing for him to do, to walk away from his career.  But he had to stand up for his people.  And he couldn’t do it while in uniform.  He did the only honorable thing he could do.  I don’t know why people like Alynna can’t see that.”

“Has he been back to Dorvan since you returned from the Delta Quadrant?” Jean Luc asked.

“No,” Kathryn replied.  “And I don’t know that it would be good for him to go.  His memories of life on Dorvan are precious – and precarious.  I think seeing his home as long-abandoned pile of rubble would be unduly hard on him.”

She sighed and said, “I wish he had more concrete reminders of his home.  Everything he ever had that reminded him of home has been destroyed, either by the Cardassians on Dorvan or when he rammed the Val Jean into the Caretaker in the Delta Quadrant.  Momentos, letters, pictures, everything.”

The three sat in silence for a moment, then Beverly suddenly looked up as though she had remembered something.

“Jean Luc,” she said, “didn’t we take a bunch of pictures of the Dorvan colony when we were there?  Didn’t Starfleet want us to catalog the settlements as a record of what was being ceded to Cardassia?”

Kathryn looked at Jean Luc with interest as he nodded.

“Yes, we did.  We have still images and video.”

He looked at Kathryn and said, “Do you think he might want to see some of them?”

Kathryn smiled widely and said, “Oh, I am sure of it.  None of it is classified, I hope?”

“No, I can download it all onto a chip and bring it to you this week.”

Kathryn clapped her hands together and held them to her lips.  Her heart was thumping, and she felt her eyes starting to water.

“Oh, thank you Jean Luc, Beverly,” she breathed.  “You have no idea what that will mean to him.  Thank you so much.”

Jean Luc and Beverly smiled at each other.  Then he cleared his throat and reached for the box he still had with him.

“I think we can both attest to the value images have in keeping us close to our loved ones, particularly those who have passed on,” he said as he opened the box.

He pulled out a painted canvas and handed it to Beverly.  Beverly looked at it.  Her hand flew to her mouth, and she let out a small sob.

She looked at Jean Luc with shining eyes and said, “I had no idea he did this.”

“What is it?” Kathryn asked as she leaned over to get a better look.

The canvas contained a painting done in an Impressionistic style.  It was a room with a light brown floor, large windows, and large plants.  In the middle were two figures facing one another, slightly embracing one another, as though dancing.  One figure, a man, was wearing black and gold.  The other, a woman, was wearing black and teal.  She had long, red hair.

Beverly looked at Jean Luc with tears running down her face and asked, “Do you know what this is?”

He smiled and nodded.

Beverly wiped her eyes and propped the painting against the wall on her credenza.  She looked at Beverly.

“Many years ago, Data asked me to teach him how to dance.  I pulled up a holodeck program I had with a dance studio I had gone to as a child – this room, with its huge windows and greenery.  I thought he wanted to learn to tap dance, so I taught him.  Actually, I just showed him, and he was able to copy my every movement.  Then I found out he wanted to learn how to dance at a wedding. So I tried to teach him how to waltz.  That was much more difficult.”

Jean Luc said, “I put off cleaning out his quarters for a long time.  When I finally did, I found dozens of paintings in storage, all of them reflecting some memory of life on the Enterprise.”  

Jean Luc looked at Beverly, his own eyes suspiciously red.  

“This was his memory of you,” he said to her softly.

The two grasped hands and looked at each other for such a long time, Kathryn felt as though she was intruding.  Just as she was ready to excuse herself, Jean Luc looked at her and said, “You see, we do know how important pictures are.  We would be happy to give you images of Dorvan to share with Chakotay.”

“Thank you,” Kathryn whispered, placing her own hand on Beverly and Jean Luc’s joined hands.

------------

Kathryn had already invited Beverly to her apartment to join Gretchen, Phoebe, Matt, and herself for dinner that evening.  She invited Jean Luc to join them.

When the Captain demurred, Kathryn insisted saying, “Matt needs another boy at table.  We Janeway women tend to overwhelm him.

Kathryn also asked Beverly to bring Data’s painting with her to show Phoebe.  She was curious what her artist sister would say about the android’s technique and style.

Once at Kathryn’s, the group divided in two – Gretchen, Beverly, and Matt went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.  Kathryn, Jean Luc, and Phoebe were in the living room discussing Data’s painting.

Phoebe examined the artwork up close.

“It’s remarkable,” she said.  “I never would have guessed he was an android.  His brush strokes are consistent but not perfect.  I would have expected almost an artificial quality to his technique, but this looks … well, it looks human.”

Phoebe looked at Jean Luc and asked, “He didn’t have emotions the entire time he was … alive, I guess, I don’t know the right word.  He had emotional awareness for only part of his existence, right?”

Jean Luc nodded as he sipped the wine Kathryn had brought him (not Chateau Picard, but a decent California shiraz).

“Yes, it was just the last eight or nine years that he had his emotion chip in,” he replied.

“Did he do this painting before or after he had his chip in?” Phoebe asked.

Jean Luc shrugged and said, “I have no idea.”

Kathryn then asked, “Were all his paintings done like this, in an impressionistic style?”

“No, some were quite realistic, some were surreal.  He worked in a number of different schools, often combining them in surprising ways.”

Jean Luc grimaced at one memory and said, “And he had plenty to say when others tried, unsuccessfully, to combine techniques.”

Kathryn grinned at him and asked, “Personal experience?”

Jean Luc smiled and replied, “With one of Data’s painting classes?  Yes.  With success?  No.”

Phoebe hear this and waved her hand dismissively.

“No painting is unsuccessful.  They don’t always find the right eyes immediately, but they are never failures.”

“Phoebe not only paints, she teaches painting,” Kathryn explained.

Jean Luc turned to Kathryn’s sister with interest.

“Really?  I haven’t taken a class in a long time, not since Data’s class anyway.  Do you teach any day-long classes?  I looks like I am going to be on Earth for a few weeks, I’d love to try one if you have an opening.”

Phoebe grinned and said, “You know, I was just talking to B’Elanna about having a mixed media class here in San Francisco.  She wants to create some things for the new baby’s room.”

“Mixed media?” Kathryn asked.

“Yes, where you use more than one type of media in a single piece.  B’Elanna wants to create a painting for the baby’s room that includes some of Miral’s drawings and some photos Tom took on a recent family trip.”

Phoebe looked at Jean Luc and said, “Why don’t you look at your schedule and tell me when you are free.  I’ll check with B’Elanna and we could set something up.”

Jean Luc smiled and said, “I will do that.”  

Then he looked towards the kitchen and said, “I wonder if Beverly would want to try it.”  He set down his wine glass and went to find her.

In the meantime, Kathryn looked at the brushstrokes on Data’s painting of Beverly and himself.  She looked at the green of the plants, the blue in the windows, and the tan of the floor.

“Mixed media,” she thought to herself.  

An idea took root.

------------

Dear Handsome Fellow,

Do you prefer Handsome Man, Fellow, or Guy?

I am in a better mood than I was when I last wrote to you.  It just takes spending some time with people who think a little more like you and I do to remind me we aren’t alone.  There are other people in Starfleet who want the organization to live up to its charter.

I’m sorry I get so discouraged.  It’s really amazing, isn’t it.  When we were in the Delta Quadrant, what discouraged me?  The idea that we were alone, so far away from Starfleet.  Now I am surrounded by it, and I get discouraged.

Sometimes I wonder, is it me?  Am I the problem?  Are the things that bother me so much about Starfleet these days actually normal, and I am the one in the wrong?  I mean, isn’t it the height or arrogance to look at an organization with the history, complexity, and sheer size of Starfleet and think that I, Kathryn Janeway, know better?

It’s hard to believe that I see things so differently than so many others do.  But then I am around people like Beverly, Jean Luc Picard, my mother, Tom, B’Elanna, Owen Paris, and most of all, YOU, and I don’t feel that my views are all that odd.  I am reminded that there are fights worth fighting.

Chakotay, you remind me of this all the time.  I can never tell you enough how much I admire you for the stands you have taken through your career.  You inspire me.  You remind me that it’s right to expect better from this organization.

It is every easy of all of us to have the courage of our convictions when we are safe.  You inspire that kind of courage in me when things aren’t so safe.  

How is it possible that with you light years away, I am finding more and more about you to love and admire?  

Is this what the courtship period is for?  To discover depths in one another we didn’t know we could reach?  I don’t know if this was your intent, but it’s becoming the result.  You are so far away right now, and yet I have never felt closer to anyone than I feel to you right now, in this very moment.

Amazing.  Amazing and wonderful.

I hope I dream of you tonight, Handsome.

Chapter Text

Dearest Kathryn,

I picked up my journal to write to you, and a little piece of paper fell out.  It has those "suggested topics" that I pulled from Dr. Love's book, things we could write about if we were unable to come up with anything else.

I don't know why I thought I wouldn't be able to write anything - I feel like I've written three or four novels for you by now.  But I want to try and take on at least one of these topics.  

How about the fifth one on the list - the first time I fell in love.  It only seems fair for me to tell you that story.  You've told me about Justin, but I don't think I've told you about Betta.

Betta Turner.  She was on Dorvan for only a couple of years.  Her parents were terraforming engineers.  They were "in between planets" and settled on Dorvan for a while.

Betta was smart, funny, beautiful, a lot like you in that respect.  She was a couple of years older than me.  She was tall, she had hazel eyes.  And I hate to say it just because I know you are going to roll your eyes when you read this - she had long, blonde hair.  

Yeah, I know.

Her parents worked with our settlement leadership on a few projects, but it wasn’t a good relationship.  People like my father felt the couple was wanting to use advanced technology to solve every problem when creativity with simple tools would do.  The Turner’s bristled at being questioned by “savages.”

Yes, they used that word.

I am ashamed that I was so enamored with them.  To me, they represented a life away from my simple home.  I ignored their disdain for my family and community.  

The first year they were there, I think Betta only saw me as a kid who lived nearby and pestered her parents.  I saw her as an exotic, beautiful being far above the people of my community.  She was a golden goddess to me.

She was off-world for a few months towards the end of their first year.  When she came back, I had just gone through a growth spurt.  I was now as tall as her father, I had filled out.  The way she looked at me … it was the first time in my life I felt as though a woman *desired* me.  It just about killed me.  The goddess was looking at me, seeing me, wanting me.  

You know, it’s truly amazing that humans are able to survive their teen years.

One minute, I felt brave and mature and craved her presence.  The next minute, I felt nervous and shy and needed to avoid her.  I managed to do both for a while – study her from afar and stay out of her way.  

That actually sounds a little creepy, now that I write it down.

One night, after a long day repairing the settlement’s outer walls, a group of us teens went to cool off at a spring about a kilometer’s walk from home.  My friends were all paired off, but I was sitting alone at the spring, looking at the stars.  I felt a fingernail lightly scratch up the back of my neck, and I knew it was her.

She sat next to me and said, “Tell me what you want to do when you leave this God-forsaken planet one day.”

So I told her about my desire to join Starfleet and explore the stars.  I told her how much I wanted to discover the history of other peoples and places, and to get away from my own.  I told her how burdened I felt by my father’s expectations, how the last thing I wanted from life was Dorvan.

She didn’t say much.  She just moved closer and closer to me.  When she whispered in my ear, “Let’s go for a walk,” I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

I was wrong.  Heaven happened about half an hour later, against a rock formation in the desert.  And then again 20 minutes after that.  And at least once a day (usually two or three times) for the next month.

Yes, I was fueled on hormones.  But I loved her.  As much as a confused, 15-year old boy whose first sexual experience was with a goddess could feel love, I loved her.

She loved sex.  She wanted me all the time and every possible way she could get me.  And I was thrilled to oblige.  It honestly felt like a fairy tale to me – a teen boy’s fairy tale.

I convinced myself she was every good thing in the universe, and I told her I loved her on our fourth night.  I remember she smiled at me and looked down – the innocent in me was convinced she loved me, too, but was shy about saying it.  It never occurred to me that I was just a distraction, a way to spend her time until something better came along.

And it did, in the form of a freighter pilot who had brought supplies to Dorvan.  I found her with him in the shed behind the house her family rented.  She’d had me that very morning in that very shed, and I had come back to look for a button that had come off of my shirt.  She was on her back on the ground, he was on top of her.  She looked at me, smiled and said, “It’s OK, honey, I’ll be ready again for you tonight.”

I walked out.  She didn’t come after me.

That night, I began working on a plan to get someone to sponsor me for Starfleet Academy.

I saw Betta one more time after that night, a few weeks later, right before the whole Turner family left Dorvan for good.  I had gone to the Communications Center to transfer my Academy application, and was walking home, when she pulled me into a small alley between buildings.  Before I had a chance to react, she was kissing me and had a hand down my pants.  Part of me wanted to just let it happen, but then I heard her whispering.  She was calling me her “savage.”  I went cold, pushed her off of me, and walked away.  I never saw her again.

It’s a tough lesson for a 15-year old boy to learn, that love and sex aren’t the same thing.  And it’s a tough thing when your first taste of love takes so much from you and gives so little back. 

I tried talking to my father about it a little, but he was more bothered that I’d allowed myself to be “seduced” by the Turners’ love of technology.  He was less concerned about my broken heart.  My mother probably would have been more understanding, but was *not* about to talk with her about Betta.  I am sure she would have handled the conversation calmly, with love for me, and would have given me great counsel.  But … even now, the thought of talking with her about sex, of actually saying those words to my mother, it makes me queasy.

Do teenage girls feel like that about discussing sex with their fathers?

So, Betta Turner was my first love.  It seems like every “love” I had for years after were repeats of the same.  I expected every woman to take from me, so I tried to keep myself from being vulnerable.  And when I failed to protect myself, when I allowed myself to be used again, I hated myself for it.  You remember how I reacted to Seska.  

You have always been different, Kathryn.  You taught me wonderful things – hope, compassion, strength.  You are still teaching me.  For so long, I feared that the only love I would ever know was love that used me, took from me, and hurt me.  You didn’t take from me – and as a result, all I ever wanted to do is give you everything I am.  

My first love sent me down a dark path.  Other relationships I’ve had since then were all variations of the same, thought not always as bad.  You are the light, my Kathryn.  

You really are the sun, the moon, the stars.  

------------

In the weeks since the Titan left Aldis, Chakotay had gotten to be quite good friends with Will and Deanna Riker.  The other Voyagers also had gotten closer to the Captain and his wife, although some distance remained due to the differences in rank.  If anything, Mike, Olandra, and Kurt had decided to keep some distance so Harry Kim wouldn't feel left out. 

That said, the changes had resulted in one very interesting development -- the creation of a new musical group.  Captain Riker had happened upon Jor playing the piano in the Titan’s crew lounge one night, the Hoagy Carmichal jazz classic "Georgia on My Mind" - he was thrilled to find another fan of the old music form on the ship.  Jor mentioned that Harry Kim (and the Kimtones) played jazz clarinet back on Voyager, and the Captain decided to start hosting jam sessions on the holodeck.

By the eighth week of the ten-week trip, the WillTones were performing for the crew.

"What happened to the Kimtones?" Chakotay had asked his former ensign.

Harry shrugged and said with a smile, "He's the captain.  He calls us what he wants."

The Riker’s often invited Chakotay to their quarters for dinner.  As Will and Chakotay got to be better friends, they found themselves discussing Kathryn Janeway quite often.

One evening, after leaving the last of the planets they were to visit, the two were enjoying a couple of glasses of bourbon while waiting for Deanna to join them for dinner.  Chakotay decided to ask Will something he’s been curious about for a while.

“That first night we were all here, when you had the team over for dinner, why did you call Kathryn a ‘Starfleet Princess’?”

Will shrugged and said, "Her father was an Admiral.  Everyone at the Academy considered cadets like her to be a kind of Starfleet royalty."

Will looked at Chakotay curiously and asked, "You were only a couple of years ahead of us -- weren't there any Fleet-brats in your class?  The ones whose parents and grandparents were in the history books, who seemed destined for captaincies from birth?"

Chakotay took a sip of bourbon, sat back and thought for a moment.

"I think there was a guy in my class who claimed to be distantly related to Leonard McCoy, but I don't think we ever believed him.  If anyone was truly ‘royalty, we didn't know it.  How did your class know who the Fleet-brats were?  I have a hard time seeing Kathryn running around talking much about her father like that."

"She didn't,” Will replied.  “My dad wasn't Starfleet, but he did a lot of work with them.  I knew who the Admirals were, and so knew who their kids were, too - there were at least eight or nine in our class alone.  Some of them were real asses about it.  Kathryn wasn't.  But that didn't mean we still didn't expect her to end up with another Fleet-brat and having her own Fleet-brat babies one day, all while saving the galaxy."

"Is that what she wanted back then?" Chakotay asked with a furrowed brow.

"I have no idea," Will replied.  "I take that back – no, all she wanted back then was to be a science officer.  She studied harder than anyone I knew, which was amazing because she already knew most of it.  She never talked about being an admiral or even a captain.  She never seemed incredibly interested in command, especially if it got in the way of science.  At least, not until after her father and Justin died."

Chakotay got a pensive look on his face and asked, "Did you know them?"

"I knew Admiral Janeway sight, of course, but I don't think we were ever officially introduced.  He was on assignment for much of our time at the Academy.  Gretchen Janeway was the parent we saw at Academy events.  But we all knew who Edward Janeway was."

Will sighed and added, "And, yes, I knew Justin.  When I was on the Pegasus, our captain and a few others were experimenting with an illegal phasing cloaking device.  Several of the officers mutinied over the testing, and I was too green to understand.  When Captain Pressman abandoned the ship, I went with him.  Justin was one of the Rangers sent to retrieve us.”  

Will shook his head at his memories.

“I remember, he already knew about the cloaking device.  He debriefed me.  He never said anything inappropriate or rude to me, but I could tell, he was disgusted with Pressman and what had happened – at that time, we though the ship had exploded.  I remember thinking he was Starfleet to the core, a true believer.  He believed in the purity of the Starfleet creed, and he believed it with every part of himself."

"Like Kathryn," Chakotay said softly.  He looked a little anxious.

"Yes," Will replied, seeing Chakotay’s look.  "But also not like her.  I remember hearing she was his fiancé and, well, it surprised me a bit."

"Because he wasn't Starfleet royalty?" Chakotay asked.  Kathryn had told him bits about Justin’s youth.  He had not been a Fleet-brat.

"No, that wasn't it.  I mean, a Ranger is a kind of royalty.  But Rangers in general, and Justin in particular, could be pretty … inflexible.  And it just seemed an odd pairing to me."

Will took a sip of his drink and added, "Let's face it, Chakotay, your girlfriend can be a little weird."

Chakotay laughed at that.

"I prefer to think of it as improvisational.  She handles each situation as its own thing and responds accordingly."

"That's what I mean," Will replied.  "She was known at the Academy for her out-of-the-box thinking.  Justin, though, you could tell he lived, ate, drank, slept, and breathed 'the book.'  He saw it as his mission to protect the book, and the box."

Will shook his head and said, "I just had a hard time seeing it last.  Yeah, I called her a Starfleet princess.  But she was also her own person.  I heard that after she was less so after getting engaged.  That she seemed less confident in herself and more dependent on him - I couldn't understand it.  I only found out later that she was dealing with the trauma of her captivity with the Cardassians, that Justin actually rescued her.  

Will looked at Chakotay and said, "I really don't know that they would have lasted, not if Kathryn had come back into her own.  I never had a chance to see them together, he and Admiral Janeway died later that year."

Chakotay stared at his glass for a moment, then said quietly, "I still wish I could have known him.  He saved her life.  I feel like I owe him mine just for that."

Will smiled and nodded.

"He was a good man.  That much was obvious."

He raised his glass and said, "To Justin Tighe - he saved Kathryn and, in doing so, saved you and everyone on Voyager."

Chakotay raised his glass and both men drank.

Will cleared his throat and added, "I'll tell you someone else who was a huge Justin Tighe fan, that's Admiral Nechayev."

Chakotay raised his eyebrows and said, "Really?  Why?"

"No clue," Will replied.  "But after the Pegasus, when he rescued us, Pressman made it clear to everyone that then-Captain Nechayev had a strong interest in Justin’s career.  And he apparently continued using Justin’s memory to stay in good with Nechayev for years after his death – he even said something to me about it when he came to the Enterprise later looking for the Pegasus."

Will chuckled and added, "And, boy, did Captain Jellico hate him.  Justin had been dead for years, but I got the feeling that Admiral Nechayev must have used his memory as the standard by which she judged all her favorite officers, and Jellico, at least, came up lacking."

Chakotay tilted his head a little and asked, "OK, that's strange, right?"

Will shrugged and said, "That's Alynna Nechayev."

------------

Deanna arrived later and the three enjoyed a hearty vegetable soup, the recipe for which supposedly came from Dr. Beverly Crusher’s grandmother.

The earlier discussion morphed into one about the Dr. Love-inspired courtship he and Kathryn Janeway were attempting.  

Deanna thought it was sweet.  Will thought it was nuts.

"Seriously, no sex," he'd said, shaking his head.  "I can't even imagine."

Will looked lustfully at his wife and said, "Hell, even when we weren't officially together, I couldn't keep my hands off of her."

Deanna gave him a warning look and said, "There were a lot of people you couldn't keep your hands off of back then."

Then, turning back to Chakotay, she asked, “Why did you decide to pursue this courtship approach?”

And Will asked, "And what happened to the Borg woman?"

"Will …," Deanna admonished.

Chakotay tugged at his ear in embarrassment and replied, “I guess it’s a fair question, our pictures were all over FedNews for a while.  People want to know.” 

He shared the story of Seven joining Voyager and his initial hostility towards her.  He shared additional anecdotes about her, explaining how his hostility turned to ambivalence. 

"Then, as I grew more and more convinced that Kathryn would never allow anything to happen between us, Seven started trying to branch out into the world of human relationships.  For whatever reason, she wanted to branch out with me.  And I responded, I guess, more out of loneliness than anything."

Then Chakotay sat back in his chair and said, "No, that's not right.  It wasn't that I was lonely, or not just that.  It was more that I had given up.  I was lonely for Kathryn, and I didn't think I would ever be anything else.  I tried to quit caring.  Seven was a way to do that.  I don't think I knew that's what I was doing then, but I see it now."

"She's a beautiful woman," Will said.

Chakotay smiled slightly and said, "She is.  But she's not Kathryn.  She was never going to be."

Deanna then asked, "Could I ask … what did your team mean by ‘Commander Mid-Life Crisis and Daddy-Issues of Nine’?"

Chakotay gave another embarrassed smile and shook his head. 

"Oh, that was awful.  It was the night of Voyager’s Homecoming ball.  I already knew that whatever it was I had going on with Seven was all kinds of wrong for me.  I had started suspecting it before we got out of the Delta Quadrant, but it hit me in the face the second we arrived in the Alpha Quadrant.  And I knew I had hurt Kathryn, though I really didn't know how much.  Until that night, though, I had absolutely no idea what kinds of fools Seven and I were making of ourselves.  Apparently, the whole crew was talking about it.  B’Elanna Torres just happened to be the one drunk enough to verbalize it that night."

Chakotay closed his eyes for a second, then continued.

“I was almost 50, she was in her later 20’s biologically, but emotionally she was still a child.  But, like I said, I had convinced myself I would never get the love I wanted.  And when Seven approached me, I …,” and his voice trailed off.

Deanna looked at him thoughtfully and said, “You saw an opportunity.”

“Yes,” Chakotay sighed.

"’Commander Mid-Life Crisis,’" Will said with a grin.  "I guess I can see that.  Seven of nine would be what I guess they used to call a trophy girlfriend?  Tall and shapely, almost a blonde goddess.”

At that, Chakotay looked slightly confused.  Then his eyes opened wide.

After a silent moment like that, he seemed to remember Will and Deanna and said, “Yes.  An opportunity with a goddess.”  But he looked a little distracted.

"What about ‘Daddy Issues of Nine’?" Deanna asked after sharing a quick look with Will.

Chakotay returned his attention to his friends and replied, "Most of this is open record for Starfleet officers, so it's not like I am betraying any confidences …" and he told the story of Seven's parents and her encounter with her drone father on the Borg Cube.

"Seven kind of treated Kathryn as a mother figure on Voyager.  I didn't really see that my position and close friendship with Kathryn made me the de facto father figure.  I wasn't paying attention to Seven that way.  I was barely paying any attention to her at all early on.  It never occurred to me that there may have been an unknown … purpose … in her seeking the company of an older man.”

Deanna made a face and said, “Your friends suggested she was working out her abandonment issues with her father via a romantic relationship with you?  I hate to say it, Captain, but they might have been correct.”

Will was chuckling and shaking his head at his friend.

“You loved Kathryn for years, then gave up and slept with her surrogate daughter, and now you are in a committed relationship with Kathryn and you *are not* sleeping with her?  And Kathryn seems to love you in spite of all of this?  Damn, Chakotay.”

“Yeah,” was all he could say in response.

------------

Dear Kathryn,

I had dinner tonight with Will and Deanna.  It was interesting.  A lot of things came up that I want to talk with you about, but something they said to me reminded me of what I wrote to you last night.

Was I with Seven to resolve my feelings about Betta?  Is that where this “thing” about blondes you and B’Elanna and everyone says I have came from?

When I was with Riley Frazier, and that other woman we saw the letter about but I can’t remember, and when I was with Seven, was it all about Betta?

I really am thrown for a loop.  On the one hand, am I that stupid?  

On the other hand, it makes a hell of a lot of sense.  None of those relationships ever felt right.  They always made me feel unsettled.  But I felt like I was trying to kill that unsettled feeling by being with them.  I always felt like I had something to prove – even the one I can’t remember, in my letter, I sounded so angry.  

I don’t really know what to do with this.  I might need to set up a time to talk to Deanna before we get home next week.

I am so glad you are Kathryn.  Kathryn.  Kathryn.  Kathryn.  I am enjoying writing your name, the way the “r” curves into the “y.”  You are totally and completely apart from Betta, from all those other women.

My confusion over “the blondes” (I guess I am going to have to call them that) has only made me more certain of you.  

I love you so much.  The six days I have to wait before seeing you again feel longer than the entire ten weeks ever felt.

Chapter Text

Dear Hot Stuff,

I’ve been looking up additional pet names in Dr. Love’s book.  It’s been an educational way to spend some downtime.  And since I’m in a funny mood today, I am going to entertain myself by using as many of them as possible.

These last nine weeks have been so strange, Sweet Cheeks.  Writing to you like this has been quite an adventure. I haven’t laid eyes on you for sixty-six days, yet I feel closer to you than I did on Voyager.  Maybe it’s been as much about exposing myself to you this way – I’ve let no barriers remain.

And I’m not afraid.  

It’s kind of hard to believe, Ducky.  I don’t care about Starfleet or protocol or the crew or Mark or my mother or any of the reasons I used to give myself.

Oh, Pumpkin, I can’t wait for you to get home.

What do you think we’ll do when we see each other?  Kissing is now OK, right?  

Lovey Dovey, how the hell are we going to limit ourselves to kissing?  I am actually really interested in seeing how that goes.

I can’t believe I am about to tell you this.  I was thinking of you the other night when I went to bed – and before you get too excited, this isn’t going to be *that* kind of confession, Teddy Bear.  At any rate, I was thinking about you, about kissing you and … I practiced on my pillow!  

You’ve turned me into a twelve-year old girl with a crush, my little Stud Muffin!

------------

Kathryn had finally found and moved into the perfect townhome.  She had never intended to stay in her apartment permanently, but it had become a habit, one she hadn't felt much call to break.  Until things changed with Chakotay.

In the immediate aftermath of her accident, she was primarily staying at her mother's, so there had been no reason to think about the aesthetics of her own place.  And she'd only been able to move back to her apartment after Chakotay left, so she hadn't had immediate need to look at her place through the lens of their courtship.

But her lease came up about three weeks before he was to return.  And the pure pragmatism that guided her home search after her debriefings a year before had been somewhat giddily cast aside by something softer.  The spartan practicality of her apartment wasn't giving her any emotional satisfaction, and that was no longer OK.

She'd tried to explain her desire for a new place with B'Elanna and Beverly over lunch one day.

"You want a love nest," B'Elanna had said.  Beverly had nodded in agreement.

"Oh, wow, do I?  Is that it?" Kathryn had asked in some surprise.  She wasn't sure she was comfortable with that term.  

Beverly, seeing the consternation on her friend's face, had laughed a bit.

"Kathryn, that doesn't mean you want a new home that looks like something out of holoporn, it means you want a place that reflects who you are.  Face it, you aren't the same person you were a year ago."

Kathryn conceded the point with a slight shrug.

B’Elanna added, "You want a place that reflects the kind of comfort you have with yourself and your relationship.  Warm colors on the walls, a kitchen where people can gather in, big, comfy couches wish cushions you and Chakotay can get lost in …."

"With a fireplace," Beverly continued. "Firelight is intoxicating.  And huge windows that let in the morning light and show the stars when the sun sets, a great big back yard …."

"A great big bedroom with a great big bed, and …," B’Elanna added.

Then Beverly and B’Elanna looked at each other and said together, "A huge bathtub,"

Kathryn had raised one eyebrow, smirked, and asked, "A bathtub big enough for two?"

Her friends had just grinned in response. 

Beverly and B’Elanna had helped her locate a wonderful three-story townhome in San Francisco.  The building was nearly 500 years old but it had been completely refurbished.  Kathryn's new home was actually two smaller townhomes that had been combined into one larger abode.  The redesign had left many of the original elements of the home visible - woodwork, old masonry, etc.  But the structure had been reinforced to allow for the widening of doorways and removal of some walls for more open space.

And, yes, there was a huge bathtub in the third-floor master ensuite.  

Kathryn had fallen in love with the house immediately, it contained all of the warmth and character her apartment lacked.  And while she didn't say it out loud to anyone, she thought to herself that two people could live together in the home very comfortably.

So she bought it.

One afternoon soon after, Kathryn was on the great big deck that led to her great big back yard working on a project when she heard the front door bell ring.  She wiped her hands on her work shirt and went to answer the door.  When she opened it, she saw beautiful brown eyes and a pair of familiar dimples.

"Sekaya!' Kathryn exclaimed.

The woman on her porch smiled and replied, "Hello, Kathryn!  I hope you don't mind me dropping by unannounced like this."

Kathryn wiped her hands on her shirt again, opened the door wider to bring Chakotay’s sister inside, and said, "Absolutely not, please come in!  I would give you a hug but I don't want to get paint all over you."

Sekaya walked in, taking in Kathryn’s home.

"This is beautiful," she said, looking at the beadboard ceilings and picture molding.  Then, seeing the comm station in the study off the entrance way, said, "Such an interesting combination of antique and modern."

 "Thank you," Kathryn replied as she led Sekaya to the living room.  "How did you know I lived here?  Can I get you some tea, or coffee?  What are you doing here on Earth?"

Then Kathryn stopped walking and turned to Sekaya laughing.

"I'm sorry to pepper you like that, I'm just very happy to see you.  When I last saw you …."

"When you last saw me," Sekaya said with a grin, "I had just chewed out my brother for his poor romantic choices, and things between the two of you were so awkward you were barely speaking."

Kathryn winced and then smiled, at the memory.

"Things change," she replied.

Sekaya nodded and said, "That they do."

Then she plopped down onto an overstuffed armchair and said, "Now, I found out you lived here from B'Elanna, I called her when I arrived and she told me your new address.  And I would love some coffee - black with just a touch of sweetener.  Get yourself a cup and I will tell you all about why I am on Earth."

Kathryn laughed and said, "Deal.  At least you don't pollute your coffee as much as your brother does his."

The two spent the rest of the afternoon catching up.  Sekaya explained how she and the leaders of several other communities that formed after the destruction of Dorvan had been contacted to meet with the crew of the Titan when they returned from their mission to the border worlds.  Starfleet had reached out to see if any of them would be interested in helping the newly-reconnected settlements.  Sekaya, who was living with her family on Trebus, has immediately agreed, as had the leaders of at least a dozen other human colonies.

"Oh, I am sure that will mean the world to Chakotay," Kathryn responded.

"Have you talked with him since they have finished making contact?" Sekaya asked.

"No," Kathryn replied.  "Communications have been spotty.  The Titan’s Captain, Will Riker, has been able to send some text-only messages, but they have all been completely mission-focused.  I don't think, at this point, Starfleet would buy it if I tried to pull Admiral’s rank to piggyback my own messages on their mission communiques.  That said, I've been following the reports Captain Riker has made.  It sounds like the settlements need the help."

"I agree," Sekaya said.  "I am looking forward to travelling to those planets.  I would like to help them avoid some of the mistakes we made on Trebus."

"Mistakes?" Kathryn repeated.

Sekaya chuckled and said, "We were a little too reluctant to accept Stafleet assistance back then.  It held us back."

Kathryn raised her eyebrows and said, "Oh, I don't know.  The older I get, the more I realize that even the noblest endeavors by Starfleet should be viewed with some suspicion by certain parties."

Sekaya looked at her with some surprise.

"I don't mean that as an indictment of the entire organization," Kathryn quickly clarified.  "It's just that I've found it only takes one or two bad actors -- or even just careless actors -- to ruin a good idea.  Those planets you’ve been asked to help need to work with people who have more than just Starfleet goals in mind.  Your experience, even your ambivalence about Starfleet, will be a huge help to them."

Sekaya sipped her coffee and asked, "Is that why you encouraged Chakotay to go on the trip?"

Kathryn nodded and said, "Partly.  I know he will be an advocate for those settlers to Starfleet more than an advocate for Starfleet to them.  He will have their interests in mind.  But there were other reasons I thought he should go, more personal ones."

Sekaya got a slightly pained look on her face and asked, "Dorvan?"

Kathryn smiled sadly.

"The loss of your home and parents has been an oppressive shadow over your brother's soul for the longest time - you know that.  He tried to exorcise those demons in the Maquis, to limited success.  Then we had our seven years in the Delta Quadrant where he could pretty much avoid dealing with it.  We got back, and we've stayed busy.  But that pain has been sneaking back up on him."

Kathryn sighed and settled back into the couch cushions.

"And since he and I have been … well, courting, and he's gotten closer to my family, I've seen that pain coming closer and closer to the surface.  And it's far more acute than I realized.  As much as I might want to, I can't fix it for him."

"My brother tells me you are his peace," Sekaya said, looking intently at Kathryn.

"He has told me that," she replied.  "But he's never going to know real, lasting peace with me or anyone as long as he lets the pain of Dorvan fester.  He has to be his own peace.  I can try to help him find his way to it - that's why I encouraged him to go on this mission, I truly believe that helping those colonies will help him.  But he has to gain some peace first *without* me to ever be able to enjoy peace *with* me."

Sekaya tilted her head and thoughtfully regarded the admiral -- the woman -- sitting before her.  She thought to herself, "Oh, mom and dad would like her so much."

Aloud, she said, "That is very wise of you, Kathryn."

Kathryn chuckled and said, "Actually, it's wise of my mother.  She pointed out my own old pains that needed to be wrestled with and resolved before I could be free to love your brother as he deserves.  She was right.  And while Chakotay’s pains are different, they are pains that would have held us back."

Kathryn leaned forward to look Sekaya right in the eyes.

"And let me be clear.  I do not want to be held back from loving him any longer.  Not by my past or his past, not by Starfleet, not by anyone or anything."

Tears filled Sekaya’s eyes and she swallowed a sob.

"Oh, Kathryn Janeway, I cannot tell you the joy I feel hearing you say that.  My brother loves you so much – and to hear you ready to love him back the same way.  Thank you."

Kathryn reached for her guest’s hand and squeezed it.  Sekaya set down her mug to wipe her eyes with her other hand.

"I thought he had died when the Val Jean disappeared.  Then I found out he was alive, saved by you, but likely separated from me for the rest of our lives.  Then a year ago, you brought him back to me, to meet my husband and children.  And now …," and her voice trailed off.

She wiped her eyes once more, smiled at Kathryn and said, "You really, really love him, love who he is deep inside."

"I do," Kathryn replied softly, her own eyes watering.

Both women were silent for a moment more, then found themselves laughing.  Nothing humorous had happened.  There simply was so much joy in that moment, the only rational response was laughter.

As they subsided, Kathryn suddenly jumped up and said, "Oh, I should show you this …" and she ran from the room.  A moment later, she returned with a padd.  She took her place back on the couch and motioned for Sekaya to sit next to her.

"I recently saw friends of mine who served on the Enterprise D back when they went to Dorvan for the handover of the planet to the Cardassian’s - something they both hated to do, by the way.  Anyway, I had mentioned that Chakotay had no pictures of his home, and they said they remembered having to make a complete visual record of the settlement before leaving, and they still had access to many of the images.  They downloaded them onto this padd."

Kathryn turned on the padd and handed it to Sekaya.  

Sekaya's eyes were wide as she moved through the still images.  Some she spent no time on, others she stared at for minutes.  Some, she would look at silently, others she would say a name or identify a building.

She reached a couple of images that appeared to show part of her parents' house - she wasn't sure, at first.  Then she zoomed in and said excitedly, "That's it!  That's mom's window!"  

She pointed to the enlarged image of a small window on the side of one-story structure.  A wooden box was hanging from the window sill.

Sekaya held the padd up to her face to stare even closer at the picture and said, "Yes, that's it!"

She held the padd out for Kathryn and explained.

"Our mother loved gardening, but all the plots in town were reserved for growing crops.  Dad put a box on the window of their bedroom and planted succulents in it - agave, pig's ear, torch plant.  That was *her* garden, and it was *her* window.  Dad wouldn't allow Chakotay or me to touch it."

Sekaya lovingly ran her finger across the blurry image of the box.

"You can't see any of the plants from this angle.  But this was her box, her window,"

Kathryn watched Sekaya remembering her mother's plants and felt her heart in her throat.  She was so eager to be able to share these with Chakotay!

"Would you like a copy of this?" she asked Sekaya.

"Oh, yes," Sekaya breathed.  "Thank you."

Then she held the padd to her chest and, looking at Kathryn, said more firmly, "Thank you so much."

She returned to the padd to look through the hundreds of images still there.

"You are going to give this to Chakotay?" she asked as she continued.

"Yes," Kathryn responded.  "I wanted to give him a gift.  And according to the guidelines for our courtship, it is time for me to do so."

Sekaya looked up from the padd, smirked and said, "Yeah, B'Elanna filled me in on all that courtship stuff.  My brother certainly comes up with some strange ideas!  B'Elanna had some good stories to tell."

Kathryn snorted in laughter and asked, "Did she tell you how *she* got pregnant on *my* movie date with your brother?"

Sekaya's eyes widened and she replied, "Uh, noooooooooo."

"Let me tell you *that* story," Kathryn replied

------------

The two women ended up having dinner at Kathryn’s townhome - leftovers from a dinner prepared by a visiting Gretchen the night before.  Unlike Chakotay, Sekaya was a meat eater and thoroughly enjoyed the reheated chicken and white bean chili.

The two women had looked at a few more pictures, Sekaya giving some explanations.  At one house, she made a face and said, "Ugh, the place the Turner's rented."

At Kathryn's questioning look, she shrugged and said, "We didn't like the Turners, especially their daughter.  Actually, my parents and I didn't like them.  Chakotay liked them fine.  Especially their daughter."

"Really?" Kathryn asked curiously.  "Were they close?"

Sekaya rolled her eyes and said, "If you want to call it that."  She shook her head and said "I haven't thought about Betta in years."

"Betta?" Kathryn asked

"That was her name," Sekaya replied, making the same unpleasant face.  "She was a user, she and her parents had no respect for any of us.  Chakotay couldn't see that.  She was a couple of years older than he, all he saw was this tall, beautiful blonde …."

Kathryn’s eyebrows nearly came off of her head as she repeated "Blonde?" a little harshly.

Sekaya nodded.  Them as if realizing something, she suddenly turned to look at Kathryn.

"You know, Seven reminds me a little of her, now that I think about it – in looks, not in temperament."

Kathryn groaned and ran her hand through her hair,

"That makes sense," she said, dryly.

------------

Kathryn insisted that Sekaya stay the night at her new home rather than remain on her transport ship or get a hotel.  She was enjoying her company so much, and it made Kathryn feel even closer to Chakotay by getting to know his sister better.

And Sekaya was beginning to realize that her brother had finally found the love he'd wanted for so long in this petite admiral.

At breakfast, Kathryn showed her guest the project she’d been working on the day before.  It was something for Chakotay.

"It's not very good, I am afraid," Kathryn said nervously.  Being the sister of a semi-famous artist left the admiral somewhat shy about showing her own endeavors.  But this project was less about any kind of artistic achievement than it was about trying to express what was in her heart.

Sekaya was staring hard at a particular part of the project while Kathryn continued rambling a little anxiously.

"Phoebe held a few painting classes for me and some friends - painting and using other forms of media - and she kind of showed me the way to this.  I don't know if you can tell what it is," she said, and she pointed to the area Sekaya had been examining.

"I can tell," she said in response.

"Do you think … am I … uh what does it look …." Kathryn stammered.

Sekaya turned to look at this woman who loved her brother.  With a large smile she said, "It's actually very good, Kathryn.  I am surprised you don't paint more."

She turned back to the project and said, "Chakotay is going to love it."

Kathryn smiled in some relief and replied, "You think so?"

"Oh, I know so," Sekaya said with a nod and a flash of her dimples. 

------------

Dear Handsome,

I used too many pet names on you the last time I wrote in this journal.  I am going to show some restraint this time.

No practice kissing you with my pillow tonight, either, I have a guest.  Sekaya is on Earth and is staying with me!  When you get home in a few days, you are going to get to spent time with me *and* your sister.

Now that I think about it, the night you are home, I should invite my mom over, too.  And Phoebe, of course.  And if I invite Phoebe, I should also invite B’Elanna, those two have a lot of pregnancy notes to compare.

Then I’ll *have* to invite Seven – I just won’t let her talk (long story).  And Beverly Crusher and I have gotten so close, I can’t have that many people over and not invite her.

Think you can handle all that estrogen, Love Bug (last one, I promise)?  I’ll bet you can – just don’t forget who you belong to.

How would you feel about another tattoo?  Something like “Kathryn’s Boy Toy” on a bicep, or a butt cheek?  I could be completely OK with that.

If it hurts, I’ll kiss is and make it better.

Night-night, Handsome.

Chapter Text

The sun had barely risen over San Francisco when the crew of the Titan began disembarking.  Kathryn had wrestled for days with the idea of meeting Chakotay when he arrived – was it expected, would it be welcome, if she showed up would she seem too needy, and if she stayed away would that be cold?  Ultimately, she put the question before her "Love Council," the name Gretchen had given the collection of friends from whom Kathryn had begun seeking relationship advice.

Beverly Crusher thought it would be a sweet gesture to meet him when he disembarked.  B'Elanna thought Kathryn should play a little hard to get.  All Phoebe wanted to know was if their Council could get matching shirts.

Ultimately, Kathryn decided not to meet him – not because of any advice she got from the Council, but because she knew how badly Sekaya needed to see her brother.  Kathryn didn't want to take away from that moment.  She didn't want to put Chakotay in a position where he felt obligated to split his attention between his sister and his love.  

Sekaya was grateful for Kathryn’s understanding.  Both women instinctively knew that Dorvan would be very much on Chakotay’s heart after his trip, and it was a pain that he shared most closely with his sibling.  Sekaya knew that Kathryn Janeway would play a huge role in her brother's healing.  But Chakotay and Sekaya needed some time together to mourn once more.

Kathryn’s sensitivity to this only reinforced Sekaya’s conviction that she was the woman her brother had been looking for his entire life.  

------------

At the same early hour on the Titan, Will Riker had just finished his third argument so far regarding Captain Chakotay and the team from Voyager.

He slammed down the view screen on his comm and bellowed “Come in!” at the sound of his door chime.

Chakotay entered the Ready Room a little apprehensively.

"Uh, good morning, Will.  Everything OK?”

Captain Riker rolled his eyes in response.

Chakotay grimaced slightly and said, “I guess it’s not a good time to ask if we’ve gotten our orders to disembark?”

Will chuckled in spite of his mood and said, "Pretty eager to leave, aren't you, Captain?  Almost like you have something, or someone, to get home to?"

Chakotay grinned sheepishly and tugged at his ear.

"Guilty as charged.  I am looking forward to seeing Kathryn very much."

Will started to respond but a message beep on his comm stopped him.  He opened the padd and the new message, read it, and swore.

“Have you done something to piss off Alynna Nechayev?” he asked Chakotay.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Chakotay replied in surprise.  “Why?”

“This is the fourth communication I’ve gotten this morning from Nechayev’s aide Erick Greene.  He has been asking these ridiculous questions about the conduct of you and your team on this mission.  He won’t agree to let you disembark until I have ‘addressed all concerns.’”

Chakotay sighed and sat down.

“What concerns?” he asked tiredly.

Will skimmed through the latest message, shaking his head.

“All right,” he said, “here’s one.  You put in one of your reports that you and an older resident of Aldis had spent some time discussing woodworking, and that before we left that planet, you arranged for additional art supplies to be delivered to him.  Greene wants to know if I checked those supplies for any possible clandestine Maquis communications.”

Will threw the padd on his desk and stood up.

“This is ridiculous.  I’m not keeping you and the others on this ship one minute longer just to satisfy the paranoid whims of Admiral Nechayev and her staff.”

He turned to his friend and said, “Captain Chakotay, you and I are of equal rank.  But the Titan is my ship, and I am ordering you off of it.  I want you, Mike Ayala, Kurt Bandera, and Olandra Jor leave within one hour.  And I don’t want to see any of you again until … wait, when is that cook-out, or whatever it was, that Harry Kim said the Voyagers are doing, the one you invited Deanna and me to?”

“Tomorrow night,” Chakotay replied with a smile.

“Okay, I want you off my ship and I don’t want to see you again until tomorrow night.  Does that work for you?”

Chakotay reached to shake Will’s hand and said, “Works fine for me, I’ll see you and Deanna then.”

------------

Despite the fact she wasn’t going to meet Captain Chakotay as he left the Titan, Admiral Janeway had made it to Headquarters earlier than usual that morning.  She truly had no desire to insert herself into Sekaya and Chakotay’s time together, but she also couldn’t stay away from Starfleet now that the Titan was back.  

After spending a non-productive hour in her office, she headed to the café for a decent cup of coffee.  The confrontation she and Beverly had endured there with Admiral Nechayev had become somewhat famous. The café’s owners, happy to parlay that notoriety into additional business, had invited the two women to enjoy a coffee or tea on the house whenever they wanted.  Kathryn’s presence in the café really did bring in more customers – in exchange, she had a standing order of bold, freshy-brewed hot coffee ready for her there at all times.

She had settled into a chair towards the back of the main room and was reviewing yet another summary of a report when three young women took a table near her.  They were waiting for their drink orders, and all wore uniforms and ensigns’ pips.

“I am so glad to be back,” the blonde one said.  “If I never see another sad group of dusty settlers, it will be too soon.”

“Oh, come on Ruthie,” another one, a redhead, said, “it was a good mission.  That’s the sort of thing Starfleet is here for, to help people.”

The first one, apparently Ruthie, rolled her eyes and muttered, “Whatever.”

The third one, with tight, dark curls, smirked and said, “Come on, JJ, you know Ruthie is all about helping.  Like how she wants to help herself to that Maquis stud who was onboard.”

The three young women laughed.  Kathryn continued to look at her padd, but she wasn’t seeing a word on it.

Ruthie said, “If we’d had even just one more week out there, I’d have gotten my way with him.  I could tell he was interested.”

The young woman apparently named JJ said, “I think that huge bulge in the front of his uniform every time you came in the room was a pretty good hint.”

Ruthie sighed a little and said, “It was impressive, especially for a man his age ….”

Then the barista at the front of the café called the name “Cheryl,” and they all stood up to leave.

The young woman apparently named Cheryl said, “Well I told you what his friend said about his weakness for blondes ….”  And then Kathryn heard them no more.

In fact, all she could hear was the sound of blood rushing in her ears.

------------

Chakotay and his group beamed to Starfleet Headquarters unsure of what they would find.  An armed escort?  An angry Alynna Nechayev?  

Instead, they found a group of friendly faces.  Olandra’s mother and roommate were there to greet her.  Kurt’s wife welcomed him with a passionate kiss.  And Mike’s sons stopped their argument about Parrises Squares long enough to give their dad a few back-slapping hugs.

Chakotay looked around for Kathryn but didn’t see her.

“Get stood up, boss?” Mike asked with a laugh.

Chakotay gave him a slight smile and replied, “I don’t know.”

He looked at the family members who had welcomed his colleagues and ask, “Did any of you see Kathryn here?”

They all shook their heads.

Kurt turned to the transporter technician and asked, “Hey, has anyone else been here today waiting for Captain Chakotay?”

The technician, not looking up from his station, responded, “Yeah, there was someone really early this morning.  She said she was waiting for Captain Chakotay.”

He finally looked up at Chakotay and said, “Pretty lady, that one was.  But she got a comm and left – something about a meeting or something.  She didn’t act like she would be coming back.”

Chakotay nodded at the technician in thanks.  He felt a spark of unease growing in his stomach.  

Jor spoke up and said, “I’m sure everything is fine, Captain.  You know how it is – Starfleet calls, she has to answer.”

Chakotay smiled widely at his team.

“You’re right.  I should have known something would come up.  Let’s go report for debriefing, then get our luggage so we can get home!”

The group headed towards the doors.

Chakotay thought to himself with not a little irritation, “I know how it is, Starfleet before me. How it’s always been.  How it apparently always will be.”

------------

Kathryn had left the café to wander around the grounds at HQ.  She was hoping to run into Chakotay and Sekaya – and she was kind of mad at herself about it, too.

“I will not interrupt their time, I just want to see him,” she was telling herself.

But more than an hour of wandering hadn’t gotten her anything.  And she was getting hungry.  So she went back to her office and heard her comm beeping.

She turned on the screen and saw Sekaya’s anxious face.

“Kathryn, have you seen my brother?” she asked.

“No,” Kathryn replied, a little confused. “Haven’t you?  Haven’t he and the team beamed down from the Titan yet?”

“They have,” Sekaya said.  She sounded frustrated.

“I waited on him for two hours, by myself.  Then I got a comm telling me to report to a meeting with the other settlement representatives and a Starfleet representative.  They wanted to talk with us *right then* about what the Titan found on their trip.  When I left, I asked the technician to contact you and let you know I’d had to leave.”

She shook her head in irritation.

“He looked like he wasn’t paying attention – I guess you didn’t get a call asking you to meet Chakotay for me?”

“I didn’t,” Kathryn responded, looking distraught.

“He didn’t have anyone here to meet him, Kathryn!” Sekaya said miserably.

“He didn’t,” Kathryn thought to herself.  She felt as bad as Sekaya looked.  

“And now I don’t know where my brother is,” the frustrated woman added.

Kathryn leaned closer to the comm.

“Tell you what, I will go look for him.  I’ll tell him everything that happened, he’ll understand.  He’ll be so happy to know you are here, he’ll forget all about this morning.  How much longer will you be?”

Sekaya smiled and said, “Thank you, Kathryn, I really appreciate it.  I guess we will be another hour or so.”

Then she looked over her shoulder and lowered her voice.

“This meeting has been bizarre.  The Starfleet guy we just finished meeting with kept asking us about the Maquis.  I don’t think any of the current leadership of the represented colonies were ever in the Maquis.  I wasn’t – I had sympathies, sure, but I was never a member.  I don’t understand why they are asking.”

Kathryn furrowed her brow and asked, “Who is the Starfleet representative you met with?”

“Uh, Commander-something-Greene.  Erick, maybe?  Erick Greene?”

Kathryn nodded slowly, the concerned look still on her face.

“That’s Admiral Nechayev’s aide,” she replied.

“You know him?”

“Yes,” Kathryn nodded.  “He’s a pompous ass.  His entire career is built on ingratiation.  And I don’t think he has a single thought in his head that Nechayav didn’t put there.”

Sekaya asked worriedly, “What is going on here, Kathryn?  First this Admiral Nechayev sends my brother on a ten-week mission specifically because of his Maquis past, then she gives you grief for being involved with him.  Now, a score of small-world leaders and I are asked to come to Earth to help the people he visited *as a former Maquis* and we are being given the third-degree.”

“I don’t know,” Kathryn replied with a frown, “but I don’t like it.  I am going to go find Chakotay.  Why we just plan on having a nice, relaxing dinner at my place tonight, and we see what the three of us can make of it.”

“Not very romantic,” Sekaya said with a sympathetic smile.

“We’ll live,” Kathryn chucked.

A few minutes later Kathryn was walking across the Starfleet Headquarters drill field.  She’d been told that many of the Titan crew were in the Pike Building on the north end of the complex – debriefs, luggage pick-up, etc.  She hoped that if she couldn’t find Chakotay outright, she’d at least find someone who knew where he was.

As she neared the Pike Building, she thought she saw him.  He was standing in the shade of a clump of trees to the side of the facility, he appeared to be hunched over.  She started to call him, but then she stopped dead in her tracks.

He wasn’t hunched over, he was leaning over.  His lips were at the ear of a lovely ensign.  He straightened up with a large grin on his face, and the young woman giggled and playfully slapped at him.  She turned walk away, and Kathryn recognized her.  Chakotay called something after the ensign, she turned and winked at him, and then she walked away with an exaggerated sway in her hips.

Kathryn knew that face, that hair, and that sway.  It was Ruthie, the beautiful, blonde ensign from the café.  The one who was after a Maquis stud.

“Admiral Janeway?”

Kathryn didn’t have time to try and understand the scene before her, someone was speaking to her.  And she knew that voice, too.

She put aside the image of Chakotay and Ensign Slutty (“Stop it, Kathryn!” she admonished herself) and with an internal grimace covered by an external smile, she turned to the voice.

“Good afternoon, Commander Greene!” she said a bit too cheerily.

Erick Greene, for his part, was delighted to see the beautiful admiral.

“I was hoping I would run into you,” he said with a confidence suggesting he had expected nothing less.  “I’ve had a most interesting day meeting with some former Maquis sympathizers, and I would love to get your two-cents on that terrorist group and their remaining members.  Afterall, you are the woman who brought them to their knees in the Delta quadrant.”

Kathryn’s cheerful smile began to fade and more accurately reflect her internal grimace.

Commander Greene, sensing he had her at a disadvantage, pressed on.

“If you have some time now, I’d appreciate a brief meeting.  If I can’t get my answers from you, I will have to advise Admiral Nechayev to put a hold on our work for those border colonies the Titan just returned from visiting.”

Kathryn correctly read a threat in that statement.

“Well, Commander, I am happy to answer any questions you may have about the Maquis so long as we get a couple of things straight.  First, I didn’t bring them to their knees, I partnered with them, and gratefully so.  Second, I do not consider them terrorists – neither does Starfleet.”

Greene took a step closer to Kathryn and lowered his voice.

“Oh, I don’t mean to insult your … friends.  I really do need to ask you a few things, though, could we go to your office?”

Kathryn suppressed a sigh.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chakotay looking away from her, still smiling.

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to really sit down with him while Greene was attached to her, she turned to Nechayev’s aide and said, “Sure, my office is this way.”

She turned to head back to her building.  When she thought she felt Commander place a hand on her lower back, she doubled her speed.

“Get this over with …,” she thought grimly.

------------

Chakotay and his team had left the transport station to meet with various officers and aides about their mission to the worlds Starfleet had previously given up to Cardassia.  The meetings had been more fact-finding than political, with the Titan’s officers and his group being asked to go through the chronology of each visit.

Will Riker had done some of the talking, but he left most of it to Chakotay.  Having been through the near-insanity of the Voyager debriefs, Chakotay felt up to this task, at least on the surface.

He spent each meeting listening for what wasn’t being said.  He truly did have concerns that Starfleet might be misleading those colonies, and Chakotay wanted to make sure he and his team were not being used to make some sort of nefarious end.  For the most part, he was satisfied that nearly all the officers they met with were honest and well-intentioned.  The one or two he was unsure about – well, it was no surprise, they were Nechayev’s.  

One in particular got on his nerves.  He had popped in for only a few moments but behaved as if he owned the room.  At one point, Will leaned over to Chakotay and said, “That’s Greene, the guy who didn’t want me to let you off the ship.”

The meeting eventually recessed for a late, brief lunch.  Chakotay had wolfed down his food then stepped outside the building for some air.  Truthfully, he was hoping he would see Kathryn.  It was driving him to distraction that he hadn’t seen her yet.

He had wandered over to the green space between buildings, content to lean against a tree.  The he heard a voice call, “Captain Chakotay?”

He looked to his right and smiled.

“Hello, Ensign Rosen,” he said.

The young woman looked around nervously and asked, “Is he out here anywhere?”

Chakotay shook his head and replied, “No, Ensign, he’s inside finishing his lunch.  Mike’s a slow eater.”

Ensign Rosen looked disappointed.

Chakotay regarded the young woman standing before him.  Ruthie Rosen was very interesting.  She reminded him a lot of B’Elanna Torres – brilliant, emotional, and a little wounded.  She was one of the Titan crew who had worked the most with Chakotay and his team when they were repairing broken environmental equipment on several of the planets they visited.  Initially, she came across as both blasé and brash, often speaking poorly of the people they were trying to help.  She also had been a little aggressive with her flirting.  Chakotay made it a point to discuss Kathryn in Ruthie’s presence a lot, and she took the hint.

Will Riker had filled Chakotay in on Ensign Rosen’s history, the source of her pain.  She’d lost her fiancé at the end of the Dominion War.  It reminded Chakotay of the similar pain Kathryn had gone through early in her career.  His heart went out to the young Ensign who tried to cover her hurts with tough talk and flirting.

His protective instinct truly kicked in when he saw the young woman developing a strong interest in Mike Ayala.  He’d had a “man-to-man” talk with Mike about being careful with the ensign.  Mike, though he had dated some since they’d returned to Earth, was still smarting from the loss of his wife (she’d remarried after Voyager was declared lost).  He had developed a real comradery with Ruthie Rosen and had been unsure about anything more than just friendship.

Chakotay had enlisted the assistance of Deanna Riker in trying to help the two navigate their deepening friendship.  She’d talked with each of them and had advised Chakotay to let them figure it out themselves.

“Ruthie isn’t going to break, Captain, any more than Mike is going to seek to break her,” the Counselor had said.

So, he’d let it go.

Now that the Titan was back on Earth, Mike and Ruthie were going to have to figure a few things out – their different paths in life, their age differences, etc.  Chakotay had warmed up to the idea of them as a couple, and decided to help the ensign out.

“Ruthie, I am sure it’s OK to go inside, there are a number of Titan crew already there.  No one is going to think anything of it if you find Mike and join him for the rest of lunch.”

Ensign Rosen looked at Chakotay doubtfully and replied, “You think so?  What about his kids?”

Chakotay sighed and said, “Mike’s sons want him to be happy.  They know how much it hurt him to lose their mom they way he did.  They aren’t going to resent anyone who brings his smile back.  And you’ve done that.  In fact, you are the only person other than his kids that I’ve seen make him smile as much as you have.”

The ensign’s eyes widened hopefully and she asked, “Really?”

“Yes,” Chakotay replied.  “But can I give you some advice?”

Ensign Rosen nodded and walked closer to the Captain.

Chakotay tilted his head and looked at her with brotherly affection.

“Don’t be afraid to be yourself with them.  Put away your ‘been there, seen that, slept with it’ attitude and just be you.  Ruthie Rosen is smart, compassionate, creative and funny.  Not the ‘bad girl’ you like to play sometimes for your friends.  The real Ruthie is the person I see Mike having a future with.  And the real Ruthie is the person his boys are going to adore.  You just need to give them, and yourself, a chance.”

Ruthie smiled a bit and replied, “The way to a man’s heart is through his sons?”

Chakotay chuckled and said, “With Mike, yes.”

Then he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “But I have a case of some really excellent bourbon if you find you need the help.”

The ensign laughed at that and playfully slapped Chakotay’s shoulder.

“Are you saying I should get his kids drunk, Captain?  That seems extreme.”

Chakotay rolled his eyes and said, “Get inside.  Go find Mike Ayala and his sons and impress the hell out of them.”

As Ensign Rosen started walking away with her hips swaying dramatically, Chakotay called after her, “And put that walk away, those boys are teenagers.  They aren’t ready for that.”

She laughed and headed inside.

Chakotay chuckled again and looked across the drill field in front of the building.

Wait, was that Kathryn in the distance?  It was – but who was she talking to?

While he was trying to figure it out, he heard his name being called again.  He saw Harry Kim, with Libby Kim on his arm, waving at him from the sidewalk.  Chakotay smiled back at them before turning to look once more towards Kathryn.

Now she was walking away from him.

Suddenly, Chakotay recognized the man with her.  It was Erick Greene, the Nechayev aide who had held up his departure from the Titan earlier that day, and who had been such a jerk in the earlier meeting.  

Kathryn was walking away from him with Erick Greene, and Greene had just placed his hand on her back.

Chakotay felt his day go from bad to worse.

------------

It had been harder to extricate herself from the saccharine smile and oily presence of Erick Greene than Kathryn expected.  

It was bad enough that he apparently didn’t have any real questions for her about Chakotay and the other Maquis members of her crew, but only had a few ugly comments disguised as inquiries.  What was worse was that Greene wouldn’t leave her office.  The man absolutely would not take a hint.  Since her confrontation with his boss probably had her on thin ice with Alynna Nechayev anyway, Kathryn didn't want to be overly rude to her aide.  But for crying out loud!  

She finally had to point-blank ask him to leave.  He just smiled, showing entirely too many teeth, and assured her they would see each other again soon.  

Then, he said the weirdest thing.  As he walked out, he made it a point to mention how much respect he had for Justin Tighe, particularly his taste in "the finer things."  And he directed a look at Kathryn that might have been aiming for sensual, but instead landed awkwardly on off-putting.

It was all Kathryn could do to keep from reaching for the emergency phaser under her desk and getting rid of that insect right then.

She threw herself in her chair and closed her eyes.  She tried imagining what Justin would have thought of a man like Erick Greene.  

She was surprised to find that she wasn't sure what he would say.

Ever since she had talked with her mother about the possibility that she and Justin might not have been as great a match as she once thought, Kathryn often found herself often reevaluating how she remembered her long-dead love and how he might have viewed her life as she now lived it.  Part of her wanted to believe that Justin would have been as disgusted by Greene as she had been.  But she wasn't sure.  Not that Justin would have approved of the creepiness Erick Greene exuded, but that Justin would have forgiven a number of flaws without question due to Greene’s service.

Unfortunately, this line of thinking was starting to make Kathryn uncomfortable, so she put it away.  

She tried calling Chakotay - he didn't answer at home, and if he wasn't home yet, she didn't want to end up interrupting any important meetings he might be in now.  So she left him a message.  It was positive, but it wasn't as effusive as it might have been.  She apologized for the morning's mix-up where she and Sekaya had let him disembark alone.  She told him she was glad he was home safe.  She told him how she couldn't wait to show him her new place.  Then her voice softened and she finally spoke from her heart.

"I've missed you.  I don't think I realized how much until today -- you are somewhere nearby and I can't reach out for you.  I didn't want to interrupt your debriefs, I know how important the work you were able to do is.  even something as routine as a debrief will help direct Starfleet policy towards those worlds, and I don't want to interrupt your opportunity to effect change.  But, Chakotay, I am not going to feel right until I see you and, at the very least, am able to hold your hand again.  Contact me after you and Sekaya finish your visit, we'll meet up.  See you soon, love."

She terminated the call and tried to smile.  She tried to quell the nervous bubbling in her stomach that had started the minute she saw Chakotay with that young, beautiful blonde ensign.

Kathryn knew he wouldn’t cheat on her, she wasn’t worried about that.  But she couldn’t stop comparing herself to that young woman.  Or to Seven.  And her insecurities were telling her that Chakotay would make the comparisons, too.

Kathryn looked at her hands laying on her desk.  They looked old to her.  Scarred.  She stood to get some coffee and her lower back protested - yet another of the pains she had collected over the years was making its presence known.  Was it from her recent accident, or something that happened on Voyager?  She didn't know.  The aches popped up everywhere these days.

She thought once more about the ensign - she doubted any joints on her body creaked,

She sighed and looked back at her desk.  There was a large stack of padds – she could probably knock out a few while she waited for Chakotay or Sekaya to call.

------------

After seeing Kathryn with Erick Greene, Chakotay had gone back inside and spent a couple more hours debriefing.  He was thankful to have the activity - seeing her, even from afar, with that man's hand on her lower back had annoyed the hell out of him.  As much as he wanted to, he couldn't help notice how good they looked together.

“The Starfleet princess and a fine, upstanding representative of Admiral Nechayev’s office,” he thought to himself.  “The sort of relationship she was probably meant to be in.”

That idea stayed in his head during the entire debrief.  While he talked about his work on the eight planets they had visited on the Titan, in the back of his mind he went through a mental checklist of everything he saw wrong with himself and imagined right about Greene.

Former terrorist versus ideal officer.

Mostly dead family tree versus fleet-brat pedigree.

Simmering anger beneath an unpolished exterior versus calm, cool, and handsome.

Faulty goods versus a golden boy.

The comparisons he made took him further down a spiral of negative thoughts.  By the time he smiled and thanked the committee for their time, he was miserable.

Chakotay knew Kathryn wasn’t cheating on him, he didn’t labor under that delusion.  But he couldn’t see how she could avoid comparing him to a man like Erick Greene.  Or Will Riker.  Or Justin Tighe.  Or any of the dozens of other stellar officers with clean records and impressive family lines she'd no doubt met over the years. And probably every day in the present.

He knew these thoughts were ridiculous.  He just needed to see Kathryn, that was all, and he would feel right again.  So he went to her apartment. 

Seeing the words "Available for lease" where her name should have been on the tenants' listing knocked the wind out of his lungs.

What the hell is happening? he asked himself

----

Kathryn continued reading padds, looking at the time.  It had been three hours since she left her message for Chakotay.  She assumed that he and Sekaya were working through all their Dorvan feelings, and that would take as much time as it would take.  She needed to let them talk and cry and comfort one another.  She didn’t need to interrupt them, she needed to not be selfish.  She needed ….

“I need Chakotay,” she thought miserably as she laid her head on her desk.

----

Tom and B’Elanna had not been home for long when they heard a knock on their front door.  B’Elanna opened it and was amazed to see Chakotay standing on her front porch looking … really pissed off.

"Chakotay," she exclaimed, and she hugged him.  He sighed and hugged her back, mumbling something into her shoulder.

"What was that?" she asked, as Tom came around the corner carrying Miral.

"Chakotay, what are you doing here?" Tom asked.  "Why aren't you off with Kathryn somewhere … doing whatever it is you are allowed to do at this point?"

Chakotay walked past his two friends into their living room.

"Excellent question.  Has she been given a deep-space assignment or something?  I saw that she’s apparently vacated her apartment, is she leaving Earth?”

B’Elanna and Tom looked at each other - this was not the tone and bearing they expected from a man who had reunited with the love of his life after a ten-week separation.

"Uh, I don’t think so," Tom replied, shifting a fussy Miral in his arms.  "You haven't seen her yet?"

"Not really. From a distance, but she was busy." Chakotay said a little bitterly as he went to stand in front of a large window that looked into the back yard.  "I had hoped to see her when we disembarked this morning, but I guess I wasn't a priority."

"Well, I don't think she was trying to avoid you," B’Elanna replied, taking Miral from Tom and sitting on the couch.  "I just think she thought you and Sekaya would want some uninterrupted time together.  Didn't she tell you?"

Chakotay had turned at the mention of his sister.  He began peppering his friends with questions.

“Sekaya?  She’s here on Earth?  Why?  She was supposed to meet me instead of Kathryn?  Where was she, then?”

Tom and B’Elanna both motioned for Chakotay to sit down.  And calm down.

B’Elanna started answering his question, saying “Yes, Sekaya is on Earth.  She and a number of other small colony leaders were asked to come meet with Starfleet to discuss developing an advisory group for the border worlds you just visited.  Yes, she was supposed to meet you this morning, and I don’t know why she didn’t.  Kathryn was going to, but she thought she should let you and your sister have some time together, first, since this trip probably brought up a lot of Dorvan issues for you.”

B’Elanna ran out of breath, so Tom took over.

“Sekaya actually has been staying with Kathryn at her new place.  She bought a really great townhome just a week or two ago.”

Chakotay was sitting completely still.  His mind was trying to process all that he had just been told – his understanding of the last eight hours had been completely upended.

B’Elanna and Tom once again looked at each other.  Something was still seriously off.  Then Tom remembered something Chakotay had said.

“Wait, you said you saw her but she looked busy.  What do you mean?”

Chakotay looked up – it was as though he had forgotten his friends were there.  Tom had asked him a question.  What was it?

“Oh,” Chakotay said in realization.  Now that his irritation with Kathryn had dissipated somewhat, he was no longer sure how he felt about what he had seen.

“’Oh’ what?” B’Elanna asked.  “You sounded mad when you said you’d seen her.”

Chakotay ran a hand through his hair and said, “Well, I, uh … yeah, I saw her across the drill field.  She, uh, she was walking away from me ….”

“… the view you like best, as I recall,” Tom interjected.

Chakotay glared at him and continued, “She was walking away with one of Nechayev’s aides, Erick Greene.  I couldn’t follow after them, we were about to go back into another meeting.”

Tom made a face and said, “That guy’s such a jackass.”

“I agree,” Chakotay replied.  “He certainly presented himself as one in our debriefs, seems like he’s got a really problem with former Maquis.”

“He made your debrief about the Maquis?” B’Elanna asked.  She looked concerned.

Chakotay tilted his head and said, “Yes, but I don’t think it’s anything for us to be concerned with B’Elanna.  Is there something about this guy I don’t know?”

“Not about Greene,” she replied, “about Nechayev.  And Kathryn.”

Tom whistled and said, “Yeah, Chakotay, you haven’t heard about the ‘Café Showdown,’ as it’s now being called.  Kathryn and Beverly Crusher got into it with Admiral Nechayev at the Starfleet Café a few weeks after you left, and it was about the Maquis.  And you.”

Chakotay slumped back into his chair.

“What the hell has been happening since I’ve been gone?” 

------------

Kathryn had finally read through all of her padds.  Some of them she’d looked at twice.  She still hadn’t gotten a comm from Sekaya or Chakotay.

“Maybe the are at my house waiting for me to get there,” she thought.

Might as well try that.  She wasn’t getting any younger sitting in her office.  She left her building and started walking to the transport station.  

As she neared the block the station was on, she heard a voice call from the outside dining area of a restaurant.

“Kathryn!  Kathryn Janeway!”

She turned and saw Sekaya waving at her.  Kathryn’s heart jumped as she thought, “Chakotay” and rushed to the railing his sister was leaning across.

Sekaya reached across to hug her and asked, “Where is he?  Where’s that brother of mine?”

Now Kathryn’s heart jumped over a cliff to her feet.

“I never was able to touch base with him!  I saw him, from a long way away, but he was busy and I got pulled into a conversation with that guy who was giving you grief this morning, Erick Geene.”

Kathryn sighed in frustration and looked at her friend.

“I tried reaching him at his place later but didn’t get an answer.  I assumed you had found him, and that the two of you were talking.  I’ve been in my office for hours waiting for one of you to tell me to come home!”

Sekaya had covered her mouth with her hand listening to Kathryn and hearing the disappointment and weariness in her voice.

“Oh, Kathryn, I’m sorry!  I didn’t know you were still in your office!  When my meetings finally broke up, I started to try and find your building, but I got a little lost.  Then I ran into this group …,” and she waved her hand behind her.

Kathryn leaned over and saw Harry and Libby Kim, Kurt Bandera and his wife, Mike Ayala and his boys, Olandra Jor, and some other people she didn’t recognize.  They all waved at her.

The Admiral covered her own jumbled emotions and waved back at them with a smile.

Sekaya leaned over to her and asked, “You said you saw him?  When was that?”

Kathryn faltered a bit and said, “Oh, not long after you and I talked.  I, uh, well, I had gone looking for him.  I saw him, but he was ….”

But Kathryn didn’t get to finish her sentence because of the wolf whistles coming from the table where Voyagers were sitting.  She and Sekaya both turned to look.

Mike Ayala was kissing a young woman thoroughly and passionately as his friends cheered.  Even his sons were clapping.

When Mike and his partner separated, the woman turned and smiled broadly.  Kathryn was amazed to recognize her.

“Ensign Slutty,” she mumbled in disbelief.

“Huh?” a laughing Sekaya asked, turning to Kathryn.  She knew the Admiral had said something, but she didn’t know what.

“Uh, that’s an Ensign,” Kathryn corrected quickly, and little loudly.  “What’s the story there?  With her and Mike?”

Sekaya, still smiling, said, “I gather my brother had been playing matchmaker a little bit.  Mike hasn’t really been involved with anyone since you got back, but he and Ensign Rosen apparently hit it off on the Titan.”

“She’s quite lovely,” Kathryn said, thinking the first positive thought she’d ever had about this stranger who had been in her head nearly all day.

“Chakotay set them up?” she asked.

“Yes, well, I don’t think it was hard to do, Mike has a thing for blondes,” Sekaya responded.

“That’s a common ailment,” Kathryn said wryly.

“And Ruthie – that’s her name, Ruthie Rosen – has a thing for bad boy engineers.  A match made in heaven!” Sekaya said with a smile.

She signaled for Kathryn to come closer and she spoke in her friend’s ear.

“I understand she lost her fiancé just a couple of years ago, something you can understand.  Mike tells me Chakotay put on his ‘big brother’ hat with her, even warned Mike within an inch of his life about treating her well.”

Kathryn grinned.  This made sense.  This was more like it.

“I wonder where he is, though,” Sekaya said.

Kathryn took a deep breath and said, “I’m sure he’s fine.  I left him a message at his place.  We are probably just all missing one another.”

Kathryn was overstating her certainty.  But the new information about Ensign Rosen and Mike Ayala had made for a significant improvement in her mood.

“Hey, Admiral, come join us!” Harry Kim shouted.

Kathryn laughed and shook her head.  She turned to Sekaya and said, “I’m going to head home, it’s probably my best chance of finally catching up with your brother.  Just let yourself in when you are done here, you know the code.”

Sekaya smiled, hugged Kathryn, and went back to her table.  Kathryn resumed her walk to the transport station.

------------

Chakotay had made it home and finally gotten the message Kathryn had left for him.  And the three Sekaya had left.  

He felt a little ridiculous.  How had three adults managed to miss each other so completely for an entire day?  How had none of them been able to successfully reach each other?

He also felt a little foolish about the insecurities he felt seeing Kathryn with Commander Greene.  But he wouldn’t think about it now.

Chakotay had tried contacting Kathryn at her new home three times in about ten minutes – the third time really was the charm, she finally picked up.

“Chakotay!” Kathryn exclaimed in relief.

“Kathryn,” Chakotay had replied with a wide grin and a sigh.

The two of them just stared at each other for several seconds, then both burst into laughter.  It was joyous, yes.  But there was a nervous tension in both their laughs, something both chose to ignore.

“Oh, Kathryn, let me just look at you,” Chakotay said, reaching for the view screen to touch the image of her pace. 

Kathryn closed her eyes as though he were in the room with her, reaching for her and about to touch her.  She sighed happily.

“Now let me look at you,” she countered as she reached for her own view screen, as though to touch him.

After a few more seconds, they both said, “I missed you,” and laughed again.

Then Kathryn said, “Chakotay, I am so sorry I wasn’t there to greet you.”

He shook his head and said, “It’s OK, Tom and B’Elanna told me that you were going to let me spend time with Sekaya.  That was such a generous thing to offer, Kathryn, it meant so much to her.”

“You talked with her?” Kathryn asked.

“No, she left me a couple of messages.  It sounds like the two of you have really gotten to know each other.”

Kathryn grinned and said, “Well, you’ve got to spend all that time with mom and Phoebe, it only seems fair that I get to know Sekaya.”

“I agree,” Chakotay said softly.

They sat in silence again for another several seconds.

“I wish I were kissing you right now, Kathryn,” Chakotay said longingly.

“You’ll have to make do with your pillow, at least for tonight,” she responded with a chuckle.

Chakotay tilted his head in confusion.

“My pillow?”

“Oops,” Kathryn laughed.  “That’s something I wrote in my journal to you.  You’ll have to read it for that to make sense.”

“I look forward to it.  I wrote a lot for you, too.  You might have to set aside a few hours – or maybe a few weeks – to get through mine, though.  I wrote a lot.  A LOT.  Maybe too much.”

“I doubt that,” Kathryn responded.  “Anyway, I wrote a lot, too.”

The stared at each other silently for a few more seconds.  Then they both yawned.  And laughed.

“I guess we are both tired?” Chakotay asked sheepishly.

“Looks like,” Kathryn responded. Then she sighed and said, “I can’t believe we are about to go to sleep without seeing each other.”

Chakotay leaned forward and said, “How about a fresh attempt tomorrow?  Maybe I could come over for breakfast?  Give you your first ‘good morning’ kiss of the day?”

“My first?” Kathryn queried.  “Should I be expecting other visitors with romantic intentions tomorrow morning, Captain?”

“No,” Chakotay responded with a shake of his head.  “But I plan on kissing you a lot.  Early and often.  And thoroughly.”

He lowered his voice and continued.

“I plan on kissing you softly, and then less so.  I plan on kissing you lightly, then so deeply you’ll feel it in your toes.  I might kiss those toes – I plan on kissing every fingertip, so why not your toes, also?”

“What about palms, and my wrists?  Got any plans for those?” Kathryn asked, mesmerized.

“Oh, absolutely,” Chakotay breathed.  “I could spend a good hour on just one wrist.”

Kathryn sighed softly and asked, “Are we still following the rules?  Will the ghost of Dr. Love come after us if you spend an hour kissing my wrist?”

Chakotay shrugged and said, “Perhaps.  If he objects, I’ll just move to your eyelids.”

“My eyelids?” Kathryn asked with a grin.

“Eyelids are a completely underutilized erogenous area,” Chakotay replied seriously.

“I had no idea.  Of course, experience is the best teacher.”

“Well,” Chakotay said, “I think you should consider school to be ‘in session.’  Despite the limits we still have on us for the next few weeks, there are many valuable lessons to be learned.”

Kathryn breathe in deeply and said, “This is going to drive me insane.”

“It might do that to both of us,” Chakotay chuckled.  Then he yawned again.

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“It’s fine,” Kathryn replied.  “It’s been a weird day.  How about we call it a night and look forward to the morning.”

“Agreed.”

Kathryn’s face got a little serious for a moment as she looked at Chakotay over the comm.

“I missed you, Handsome Man.  I love you.”

Chakotay’s smile widened and he asked, “Do you?”

Kathryn nodded and said, “Yes, I do.”

“I love you, too, my Kathryn.”

They stared at each other again for several seconds, simultaneously said “Goodnight,” and cut off the comms.

Kathryn stretched before she got up and headed to her bed.  As she went up the stairs, she reviewed the day in her head.

As she got in bed, one thought kept popping up – she was a little embarrassed over her reaction to Ensign Rosen.  And she was amazed by the insecurities that whole misunderstanding had uncovered.

But she was tired.  She didn’t want to think about it now.

Chapter Text

Kathryn laid in her childhood bedroom in the dark staring morosely at the ceiling.  She was miserable.

At the Starfleet Academy gym, Chakotay poured his unhappiness into the punches he threw at his holographic sparring partner.

Each lovesick, unhappy officer thought of the other and felt worse.  Two thousand miles separated them, yet they both appeared ready to set up housekeeping in the same place – the State of Wallowing.

The Titan had been back for less than 48 hours - how did it go to hell so quickly?
 
------------

The morning after the Titan’s return, Kathryn was up early.  Really early.  And she was noisy.

Sekaya came staggering into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and trying not to run into any furniture.

“Good morning, Sekaya!” Kathryn said cheerfully.  “I didn’t hear you come in last night, did you have a good time with the Voyagers?”

Chakotay’s sister looked at the Admiral through still-half-closed eyes.

“I really would like to hurt you right now,” she groaned.

“Oh, come on,” Kathryn said teasingly, “you love me like the sister you never knew you needed.  And in that role, I feel I should remind you that ‘beer before liquor, never sicker.’ Or never more hung over.  But that doesn’t rhyme.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sekaya mumbled as she accepted the large cup of coffee Kathryn offered.  She took a large sip and added, “Just wait until you are a mom of two who gets a much-needed vacation, you’ll live a little, too.  And pay the price.”

Kathryn just chuckled and shook her head.

“Ugh,” Sekaya moaned as someone knocked loudly at the front door.

Jumping up with a grin, Kathryn said, “That’ll be your brother,” and she went to the door and threw it open.

Chakotay was leaning against the door frame, holding a peace rose to his nose.  He looked up lazily at Kathryn and said in a humorously low-and-smoky voice, “Are your feet hurting you, baby?  Because you’ve been running through my mind all night.”

Then he winked at her.

Kathryn wanted to throw her arms around him, she wanted to kiss him. Instead, she doubled over in laughter.  

The Art and Practice of Romance.  She recognized it immediately.  Chapter Eighteen, “The 1970's - Easy Times and Cheesy Lines.”

Chakotay joined Kathryn in laughter.  Then he picked her up and swung her around her porch.  As her laughter subsided, he stopped swinging her around but continued to hold her.

“Oh, you smell amazing, I’ve missed that,” he said into her hair.

He finally put her down and they looked each other in the eye.

“Hi,” he said with a smile.

“Hi,” she said back, also with a smile.

Then she put her hands on his shoulders and stood on her toes to kiss him.  A quick kiss, then a second, then a third.  The fourth one lingered.  Then a quick fifth one.

The sixth one, though.  The sixth one started as just their lips and noses touching.  But then they both started breathing much more deeply.  The joy that characterized kisses one through five morphed into passion, the sweetness became sensual.  Kiss number six was deep and apparently unending.  Kiss number six was the kind that led to … other things.

Eventually they broke apart for air.  

“Wow,” Kathryn breathed.  Then she swallowed and said, “I’ve wanted to do that forever.”

Chakotay, who was dragging his lips across her cheek to her ear, mumbled, “Want to do it again?”

“Oh, please,” Kathryn replied, seeking his lips.

The seventh kiss was well on its way to leaving the sixth in the dust when someone said, “If I knew where to find a garden hose, I would turn it on you two.”

Sekaya, looking a little more awake than she had moments ago, was standing at the door with her coffee smirking at the couple in front of her.

Chakotay looked at her and smiled widely.  Then he looked at Kathryn, who was still in his arms, and proceeded to both kiss her and ask a question.

Kiss.  “Admiral.”  Kiss.  “Permission to.”  Kiss.  “Let you.”  Kiss.  “Go for.”  Kiss.  “Just a moment.”  Kiss, kiss.  “To greet.”  Kiss.  “My.”  Kiss.  “Sister.”  Kiss.

Kathryn kissed him back and said, “Granted.”

Chakotay gave her a loving look of thanks and let her go.  He stepped over to his sister and pulled her into a long hug.

Kathryn, already joyous at seeing Chakotay again, felt her eyes welling up watching him and his sister embrace.

Laughing a little through her tears, she said, “Now that I’ve given the neighbors a show, why don’t we move inside?”

Chakotay, one arm around his sister, reached for Kathryn’s hand.  She took it and led them inside. 

The next twenty minutes or so were a jumble of words and laughter.  Eventually, Sekaya headed off to take a shower while Kathryn showed Chakotay around her new home.

She had just taken him into the kitchen when he gabbed her hand and twirled her back to him as if on a dance floor.  He bent his head to begin kissing her thoroughly again. 

She was responding enthusiastically in kind when they heard Sekaya shout from her second-floor bedroom, “Kathryn, what time do you have to leave?”

The Admiral extricated herself from the Commander long enough to shout back, “0700, in about 20 minutes.”

Chakotay heard this and sighed in disappointment.

“Really?  I was hoping we could spend the day together.”

Kathryn shrugged and replied, “I moved four different meetings from yesterday to today because I thought I would be busy.  I can’t move them again.”

Her voice softened and she added, “Besides, I think you should spend some time with Sekaya.  You and I are going to have lots of time to discuss your trip and the things that came up.  She’s only here for a few more days.”

Chakotay raised her hand to his lips and said, “You really are wonderful.”

“I know,” she said with a grin.  “Now, keep your hands and your lips to yourself long enough for me to give you the grand tour.”

She took him around the first floor, pointing out the original woodwork – he was as impressed with it as she’d hoped he’d be.  She showed him one of the two bedrooms on the second floor, and the second floor sitting room.  On the third floor, she showed him the small study, and then her bedroom.

By unspoken agreement, they didn’t actually go inside the bedroom.  They were both still a little high from their greeting on the porch, and it didn’t seem like a good idea to tempt fate.

When they headed back down, Sekaya was out of the shower and it was time for Kathryn to head for the transport station.

“I’ll meet you both tonight at the park, right?  About 5:00?” she asked the siblings as she gathered the padds on her coffee table.

“Yep, I’ll make sure he doesn’t get lost this time,” Sekaya said.

Kathryn crossed to Chakotay who was walking from the kitchen with a cup of tea.

“Before I forget, here’s my ‘letter’ to you,” she said, handing him the journal she’s been writing in for ten weeks.  “I hope you won’t think I am nuts after you read it.”

“Nuts in a good way, if at all,” he replied.  He set his tea down, fetched the bag he’d brought with him, and pulled out the journal he had been writing in on his trip.

“Of course, I really don’t know what you might think of me after reading all of this,” he said as he handed her the book.

She took his journal, and regarded the one she had given him.

“This is going to be interesting,” she said with a smile.  Then she walked over to him, kissed him once more, and whispered, “I’ve got to go,”

“OK,” he whispered back.  And the two stood still, their foreheads pressed against each other.

“Kathryn, leave – Chakotay, sit,” Sekaya said loudly.

So Kathryn gathered her things and walked to the front door.  Behind her, she heard Sekaya say, “So, did she show you the master bath?  Did she show you the bathtub?  Its big enough for two, Chakotay.”

------------

The Voyager gathering was taking place in a park near the old Presidio entrance.  Although it could now probably be known as the “Voyager and Friends of Voyager” gathering, as a number of non-crew were in attendance.

Will and Deanna Riker had come at Chakotay’s invitation.  Likewise, Kathryn had invited Beverly Crusher and Jean-Luc Picard, making for a significant Enterprise-D delegation.  She had also invited her mother, sister, and brother-in-law, all of whom were well-known to the Voyager crew.  Sekaya, who came with her brother, was equally familiar to her brother’s shipmates.

Kathryn and Chakotay each arrived at the park at almost the same time.  They had just enough for an affectionate, albeit reserved, greeting, then each were whisked away to visit with different groups of crewmates.

Truthfully, they had expected as much.  There were many people they hadn't seen since Harry Kim’s wedding - even a few they hadn't seen since Voyager's return.  They had every intention of making the rounds and then spending the rest of the evening side-by-side.

Didn't really work out that way.

The first fly in the ointment came in the form of Commander Erick Greene who, for some reason, arrived with the Parises.  Greene looked thrilled to be with them - the Parises, not so much.

Kathryn had been speaking to Sam Wildman and Greskrendtregk when she heard Greene’s unpleasant voice next to her ear.

"Admiral Janeway, I told you I would see you again soon!"

Sam saw the split-second look of disgust on her face and smothered a smile.

As Kathryn turned to ask Commander Greene why the hell he was there, she saw Admiral Owen Paris walking up.  He gave her a look telling her to hold her fire.

Admiral Paris reached the group and said, "Kathryn, sorry to have brought business with me tonight, but I have a problem I want to resolve.  Is there somewhere we can go talk?"

Commander Greene leaned forward and said, in a mock whisper, "Time for a little Maquis discussion."

Admiral Paris rolled his eyes.  Which actually made Kathryn feel better.  She knew that Owen and Admiral Nechayev weren't friends - if he also saw Erick Greene for the slimy jerk he was ….

"Why don't we step over here," Kathryn said, pointing towards a pavilion several yards away.  

As the three walked away, Chakotay, a few yards away in the other direction, turned to see the three heading away.  What else did he see?  Once again, Erick Greene was putting his hand on Kathryn’s back.

Sam had gone to find Naomi, so it was Greskrendtregk who Chakotay approached and casually asked, "Where are those three off to?"

"I don't know,” Sam’s husband replied, “I think Admiral Paris wants to talk to Admiral Janeway about a Maquis problem.”

----

About forty-five minutes later, Chakotay was getting antsy.  Kathryn hadn't come back.  

What was happening?  All his insecurities and fears, the ones he tried so hard to manage and hide, were bubbling up.  He first tried to ignore them by helping Tom get some music going.  But Tom had brought a playlist containing a number of songs from Dr. Love's book, songs that Kathryn had included on the "mix tape" she'd made for Chakotay.  No help there.  Now he was engaging Vorik in a detailed conversation about recent archeological discoveries on Vulcan, but his mind continued wandering back to Kathryn.  And Commander Greene.

"Good evening, Captain Chakotay."

He turned at the familiar voice and smiled.

"Seven!  I'm so glad you could make it!   No one's heard from you in several weeks."

He reached to embrace his former love, and she returned it with typical awkwardness.  She had a small smile for Vorik, who nodded in response.

"I wasn't sure I would make it.  But I needed to speak with you, Chakotay.  It's important.  It has to do with …."

She looked nervously at Vorik, then at the ground.

"It has to do with us.  Is there somewhere we could talk in private?"

Chakotay was surprised, and a little wary.  They hadn't been together in well over a year, what could she need to speak with him about now?  

"Uh, I suppose we could head down here," he replied, directing her to a footpath that led to a dense grove of trees on another side of the park.

She nodded and said, "That will be acceptable."

The both nodded at Vorik and walked away.

A few minutes later, Kathryn reappeared.  Her eyes were suspiciously red.  She looked around for Chakotay, she needed to speak with him.  Sam and Greskrendtregk told her that they had last seen him talking to Vorik.

She approached the young Vulcan with a smile and said, "Good evening, Vorik, you are looking well.  Are you enjoying the cook-out?"

"I have found the food not to my liking, but the temperature and setting are adequate,” he replied.  “I have found the company to be pleasant.  How are you, Admiral?  Has your recovery from your recent shuttle accident been sufficient?"

"More than sufficient, thank you for asking.  I am looking for Captain Chakotay, I was told he was speaking with you.  Have you seen him?"

"Yes, he left a few minutes ago with Seven of Nine."

"Seven?" Kathryn asked in surprise.  She hadn't known the former drone had come.

"Yes, the Captain and I were talking when Seven of Nine approached to speak with him.  She indicated she needed to speak with him about their relationship.  They went that direction," and Vorik pointed to the path.

Kathryn felt unpleasant emotions starting to stir in her gut.  But she continued smiling at Vorik.  Anyone with sensitivity about nonverbal expressions of emotional distress would have seen the smile weaken just a bit, for just a moment.  But this was Vorik, so, no.

"Thank you, Lieutenant.  I will try to catch up with him - with them - later."

Kathryn walked away from Vorik slowly, glancing down the darkened path a couple of times.

Damn, damn, damn.  She hated feeling this way.  She didn't want her fears and insecurities to master her, but … but …..

Damn, damn, damn.

She headed to the drink table where a few adult beverages had been made available, grabbed a bottle of Glenlivet, and poured herself a triple.

About half an hour later, she saw Chakotay and Seven emerge from the path.  Seven's face appeared a little flushed, and Chakotay was looking at her affectionately.  He said something to her, then took her hand and kissed it gently.  Seven reached up to touch his tattoo, then smiled at him.  They embraced, and Seven walked away.

"Enough of this shit," Kathryn thought to herself.  She grabbed the now half-empty bottle of liquor and strutted towards Chakotay.

He saw her coming.  She looked like she was on fire – her eyes were dark, her lips a deep red, and her nostrils flared.  His mind immediately went to Commander Greene.

Kathryn stalked up to Chakotay and handed him the bottle of scotch.

"How about a drink, sailor?" she asked.  She then downed what was left in her own glass.

Eyeing her, he drew the bottle to his mouth and took two large gulps of the whiskey.  It burned.

Her eyes were burning hotter.  And his were getting there.

"Let's take a walk, shall we?" Kathryn said as she grabbed his free hand and led him back down the darkened path.

Both of them were burning now.  The alcohol, the months apart, the jealousy, and the anger fueled most of the fire.  Love and not a little lust were there, too, but in that moment, they were not important.  Something else was going on.

When they had walked far enough to no longer hear the crowd, Kathryn stopped and turned to look at Chakotay.  He was taking another long drink from the bottle

“Did you miss me, Chakotay?” she asked in a low voice as she stood in front of him.

“I did,” he replied.

Kathryn smiled and placed her palm on his chest.  Then, making a fist, she grabbed his shirt.  She took a step backwards, pulling him with her.

“I missed you, too,” she said.  Her voice was now somewhere between a purr and a growl.

“How much,” Chakotay asked with a smile as he followed her, taking only a second to lean over and set the nearly-empty bottle on the ground.

As Kathryn’s back met the trunk of a large tree, she replied, “I would love to show you.”

She pulled his body flush against hers with one hand, and with the other pulled his head closer to her so she could kiss him.

It wasn’t a kiss like that morning’s, it was something entirely different.  Lustful, frantic, almost desperate.  Full of Glenlivet. Chakotay felt himself respond immediately and began kissing her back with the same fervor.  

Neither of them realized it, but it was the first kiss they shared that had nothing to do with one another.  This kiss was all about other people – Erick Green and Ruthie Rosen.  Justin Tighe and Seven of Nine.  

Perhaps that was why neither of them was satisfied with it.

Kathryn, who had been nursing the scotch a little while longer than Chakotay, took the first action to fix whatever wasn’t working with their kiss.  She slid one hand from his back to his behind, grabbing and squeezing his flesh, pulling his body even closer to hers.

Chakotay moaned at the contact and began sliding his own hands down Kathryn’s body.

Just as he was about to move a hand under her shirt, he heard the music from the cookout.

You can’t hurry love
No you just have to wait.

Those words cleared up enough of the scotch-and-lust haze for him to still his hand and pull his mouth away from Kathryn’s.

“Chakotay …,” she whispered.

“Kathryn, we … I need to slow down.”

Those words seemed to set something off in the Admiral.  She looked at him through narrowed eyes and said, “I don’t think so.”

The hand she’d left on his butt cheek moved to the front of his pants, and her fingers began exploring.

“I don’t think you want to slow down, Chakotay,” she breathed.

It took all that he had in him to grab her hands and pull them away from his body.  But he did so, and leaned over to kiss her the backs of her fingers.

“I do – you do, too, Kathryn, I know it.  This isn’t the right time or the right place.”

She stood still for a moment then snatched her hands from his.

“Maybe I’m not the right person,” she spat out.  She started to walk away, but the scotch had made her gait as shaky as her logic.

“Not the right … what?  What does that mean?” Chakotay asked in confusion.

Kathryn looked at him angrily and replied, “I’m not the woman you want, am I Chakotay?  You want your women tall and beautiful.  You want them blonde and curvy, you want them voluptuous, with breasts and hair and eyes, you want them with their voluptuous eyes, don’t you?”

He just stared at her.

“And my eyes aren’t voluptuous, are they, not enough?” she asked, sounding defeated, and drunk.

Chakotay’s mind was still plenty fuzzy from the little alcohol he’d had, but there was no doubt in his mind that this was not making a bit of sense.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Kathryn,” he said in exasperation.

“You don’t want me, do you?  Do you?” Kathryn demanded.

“What?” he almost yelled.  “You think because I stopped this, I don’t want you?  You think because I don’t want our first time together to be a quick fuck against a tree in a pubic park that I don’t want you?”

“Oh, it’s the lack of propriety that’s got you?” Kathryn replied.  “Come on, Chakotay, you’re no shy virgin.  Where’s your sense of adventure?  Where’s the part of you that lives life on the wild side?  Where’s my Maquis rebel?”

Chakotay stared at Kathryn angrily, his own scotch-fueled self-doubt taking control.

“Is that what I am to you, your ‘Maquis rebel’?  Maybe I'm just your way of rebelling? Just your last walk on the wild side before you settle down?”

Now Kathryn was confused.

“What?  No.  What are you talking about?”

Chakotay stalked towards her with his jaw set.

“I won’t be a just a plaything, Kathryn, for you or any other woman.  I won’t be some Starfleet princess’s way to satisfy her dirty urges, all while she prepares for a life with her golden boy.”

Kathryn threw her hands in the air and said, “What the hell?  What princess, what golden boy?”

Chakotay just looked at her and shook his head, finally saying, “I won’t be used by you, Kathryn.”

She gave him her famous death glare and replied, “Oh, I have no doubt you’ve got plenty of alternatives.  You probably got one tonight, right here, on this path.”

She walked past him, headed back to the area of the cookout, and said, “You’ll just have to forgive my delusions, Captain.  I won’t chase that folly anymore.”

As she put distance between herself and Chakotay, part of Kathryn was screaming.  This was wrong, so wrong.  This was a mistake.  She had misunderstood something.  He had misunderstood something.  There was too much alcohol.  

Just as she reached the clearing where her Voyager friends and colleagues were gathered, the awful feeling that she had been nursing since the day before welled up.  It mixed with the scotch in her mostly-empty stomach and exploded.

In front of dozens of friends and colleagues, Admiral Kathryn Janeway began to vomit.  She dove behind a shrub, but they all heard the retching.

Gretchen and Beverly Crusher came rushing over.  They leaned over to check on Kathryn, speaking softly.  Captain Picard joined them and after speaking with Dr. Crusher, he slapped his comm badge to call the Enterprise.  A few moments later, Kathryn, her mother, and Doctor Crusher were beamed away.

Captain Picard turned to the stunned onlookers and said, “I am sure Admiral Janeway will be fine, she is in good hands.  I am also sure she will be very happy to learn that none of you allowed this incident to ruin your evening.  Please return to your festivities, I know it will help her to feel much better, and much sooner.”

The Voyager crew and their families began wandering away, eventually talking and laughing as before.

Sekaya, B’Elanna and Tom, though, hadn’t left.  They walked up to Captain Picard, with Tom asking, “Where is Chakotay?”

“I’m right here.”

They all turned to see him coming up the path from which Kathryn had emerged only a few minutes before.  He carried a nearly-empty bottle of Glenlivet, and he looked miserable.

“Chakotay, what happened?” B’Elanna asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” he replied wearily.

Sekaya stepped over to embrace him.  She held him for a moment then stepped back to look him in the eyes.

“You fought?” she asked.

He nodded.

Sekaya placed her hand on his cheek and looked at him with concern.  Then she nodded in the direction of the nearby transport station and said, “Let’s get you home.”

“No,” he replied.  He stood up straight and looked towards the city.

“No,” he repeated, “I am going to go to the Academy.  I need to think, I need to, I don’t know ….”

“Blow off some steam?” Picard asked.

“Yeah,” Chakotay replied.

Captain Picard nodded and said, “I’ll have the Enterprise transport you.”

Chakotay looked at his sister and said, “Sekaya, are you still staying at my place tonight?”

She nodded.

“OK,” he replied.  “I’ll see you later.”

---

The Titan had been back for less than 48 hours - how did it go to hell so quickly?

They were apart and miserable.  First fight.  Not really, they had fought plenty of times in the Delta Quadrant.  But those fights had been different.  Something about this one was ugly.

The ugliest fight they’d ever had.  One they didn’t know they’d actually been having for a very, very long time.  One that demanded resolution.

The most important fight they’d ever had, though neither knew it at the time.  

The fight they would be thankful for, one day.  

Just not tonight.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Chakotay's head was pounding from both the alcohol and the boxing.  Not that he minded, really, it gave him something to think about other than Kathryn.

Sekaya had gone to an informal meeting of the other settlement leaders and he was at home alone.  It suited his mood.

When his door chime rang, he couldn't image who it would be - maybe Tom, or Mike?  Sure as hell wouldn't be Kathryn.  Even if she was no longer angry with him, she had to be feeling far worse than he this morning.

No, the impassive face of Admiral Owen Paris was what he saw when he opened the door.  Chakotay looked at him blankly for a moment.

"Good morning, Captain," the Admiral said.  When Chakotay just continued to look at him, he asked, "May I come in?"

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry," Chakotay stammered and directed Paris to the living room.  

"Uh, may I get you something, some coffee or tea?"

"Tea would be fine, thank you."

Chakotay stepped quickly to his kitchen where had a pot brewing, all the while thinking, “What the hell does he want?”

When he handed the Admiral a cup, he asked, “What brings you by, Admiral?”

When Paris didn't answer immediately, Chakotay allowed his throbbing headache and general bad mood to assign meaning to the pause.

"I guess this has something to do with 'the Maquis problem'?" he asked bitterly.

"What?" Admiral Paris replied.

Chakotay huffed and said, "I know you and your guest, the most upright Commander Erick Greene, spoke with Kathryn at length last might about your ‘Maquis problem.'  I am sorry if Starfleet can't handle my past, but surely you know your son and daughter-in-law carry the same black marks on their records."

Paris was shaking his head.

"That's not what happened, son.  I ran into Commander Greene on my way into the park - I have no idea why he thought he would be welcome there.  And since I've heard plenty about his little anti-Maquis questions and comments in recent meetings, I decided to keep him with me.  I needed to talk to Kathryn, but figured I could kill two birds, as they say.  I told Greene to come with me and Kathryn so I could set a few things straight for him."

With that, Admiral Paris relayed the previous evening's conversation to Chakotay:

"OK, gentlemen, what's going on?  Owen, why did you bring Commander Greene with you to this event?"

Erick Greene responded, "Oh, he didn't bring me, I came on my own.  I very much wanted to see you, Kathryn."

"Admiral," Owen Paris barked.  "You refer to her as 'Admiral.'"

Slightly taken aback, Greene said, "Uh, yes, Admiral Paris.  Of course, I meant no disrespect."

Before Kathryn could respond, Owen spoke again saying, "I think you did."

That shut Greene down completely.

"In fact," Owen said, advancing towards toward the hapless comm, "I think you have been nothing but disrespectful of Admiral Janeway and her crew for weeks.  I have heard all the mumblings about you and your boss deciding that you know what's best for Katie.  I have heard the highly inappropriate comments about her you've made in company that you thought was a lot safer than it actually was.  Starfleet isn't a boy's locker room, Greene, and anyone who is allowed to wear that uniform should know better than to speak about a superior officer as though she were a call girl."

Paris was getting angrier with each word.  Kathryn wondered if she ought to step in, but she was enjoying Greene’s discomfort far too much.

"Finally, if I hear one more word - and I mean it, a single additional word - from you about the Maquis, I will redefine your existence to the point you will be begging for a three-year stint on a freighter in the Beta Quadrant.  You need to remember, every time you say something about the Maquis, you are saying it about the USS Voyager, one of the finest ships and finest crews in Starfleet history.  And every time you say something about the Maquis, you are saying it about my son and my daughter-in-law.  The parents of my granddaughter.  Which means you are basically saying it about me."

The way Admiral Owen Paris towered over Commander Erick Greene in the moment, it looked as though he had grown a foot and Greene had shrunk in equal measure.

"Now, unless Katie wants you to stay …"

Paris stopped for a moment, looked at Kathryn questioningly and asked "Do you want him to stay?"

Kathryn shook her head vigorously and replied, "No.  Absolutely not.  You are doing fine."

Paris nodded in satisfaction and turned back to Greene saying, "You should go.  Tuck your sad little tail between your sad little legs and go.  And tell your boss exactly what I've said, and tell her the same goes for her.  She may be Fleet Admiral, but I have the rest of the admiralty *and* good sense on my side.  She doesn't want to take all of that on."

With that, Paris pointed to the park gates and said, "Go."

Chakotay listened to the Admiral in stunned silence.  His imagination had pictured Commander Greene’s discussion with Kathryn, and his night, going very differently from what Paris was describing. 

"I am not sure what to say.  I know you were standing up for Kathryn, plus Tom and B’Elanna, but intended or not, you stood up for me, too.  I thank you, Admiral."

Paris took a long sip of tea then said, "For the rest of this conversation, why don't you call me Owen?"

"All right, Owen," Chakotay replied.  Then he chuckled and said, "That might take a bit of getting used to."

"I can understand that," Owen replied as he sat back in his chair.  He regarded Chakotay sitting on the other side of the coffee table and studied him.  Something about the way he was looking at him, as though it were an appraisal, kept Chakotay silent, even though it was a little awkward.

Just when Chakotay decided he could no longer handle the silence, Owen Paris leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and asked, "Chakotay, what are your intentions with Kathryn Janeway?"

Taken aback by the question, Chakotay could only respond, "Huh?  What?"

"I am asking you what your intentions are in pursuing a relationship with Katie," Owen replied.

Chakotay set down his own teacup and ran his hand through his hair, a gesture of irritation.

"I'm not sure that's any of Starfleet’s business, Owen.  Admiral.  I am no longer in her chain of command.  We aren't even serving in the same Division."

Owen Paris smiled a bit and said, "This isn't about chain of command, Chakotay.  I am not here as an Admiral or really even as a member of Starfleet.  That's why I said you should call me Owen.  I am here as someone who cares about Kathryn Janeway, the person.  I am here on behalf of someone else who should be here, but isn't - I am here for Edward Janeway."

Chakotay inhaled deeply.  Now he understood.  Not that understanding relaxed him at all - instead of talking with an Admiral, he would be talking to Kathryn’s surrogate father, a conversation that promised to be much more exacting.  And Chakotay knew that there was much more at risk in this kind of talk than one between an Admiral and a Captain.

Exhaling slowly, he looked at Owen and nodded his understanding.  The he said, "I apologize, Owen.  I sometimes forget that you an Edward Janeway were so close.  I guess I think of you as Tom’s father foremost, and Kathryn's former commanding officer next."

Owen replied, "It makes sense.  In general, I don't run around acting like Kathryn's father.  I would never try, that honor was Edward’s and his alone.  But I made a promise to him long ago, and he made the same one to me.  If anything ever happened to either of us, we would try to be there for each other's families.  It made going on certain missions - well, ‘easier’ isn’t the right word.  But for my part, I could always concentrate on a dangerous mission much better knowing Edward was ready to step in if something happened to me.  I'd like to think I gave him the same assurance."

Chakotay smiled and said, "He must have.  I know the Janeway’s think the world of you."

"The Janeway women are among the most gracious ever clothed in clay, something I am sure you are learning.  Julia and I are proud to call them friends.  And just so you don't feel singled out, please know that I had this same kind of conversation with Matt when he and Phoebe started getting serious." 

Owen grinned and said, "I must have scared five years off that boy's life."

Then his eyes got serious again.

"Back to my original question.  What are your intentions toward Katie?"

Chakotay answered calmly and honestly, much like he did when Gretchen asked the same question a few days after Kathryn's accident.

"I intend to marry her."

Owen nodded and said, "So far so good.  But I need to put my Edward Janeway hat on for a moment and ask you a serious questions  What about this business with Seven of Nine, is it all done?"

"It is," Chakotay responded firmly.

"Because from what I heard," Owen continued, "you and Katie basically were in love most of those seven years you were gone.  Then right before you get home, you take up with that young lady.  Not that she's not a lovely young lady, but so is Kathryn Janeway.  Why did you give up on her?"

Chakotay reminded himself that it was basically Kathryn’s father asking these questions, not Tom’s father - and if it actually had been Edward Janeway, the phrasing might not have been as polite.

He sighed and said, "I did give up.  I lost hope I could ever have a relationship with Kathryn.  I was afraid I would never be enough.  So I settled.  I fooled myself into believing I was just taking a different path to a happy ending, but I was settling.  I couldn't have what I wanted, I lost patience, and I accepted what I could get."

Owen stared for a moment, then said, "To be honest, Chakotay, that whole thing made me question your judgement.  And that was before I knew the first thing about you and Katie.  I just knew a man in his late 40's was involved with a much-younger woman who was, unofficially, under his command.  And I didn't like it one bit."

Chakotay, chastened, looked at the ground.

"And then," Owen continued, "what I found out that Katie cared for you like she did, and you had cared for her but just given up?  I thought you were insane."

"Temporarily, I was," Chakotay admitted.  "Once the euphoria from early stage of my relationship with Seven ended, I knew it was a mistake.  I think my fear and my hormones were making decisions for me.  Once we were home and I evaluated everything rationally, I was miserable.  And I thought I had ruined things with Kathryn forever."

"I thought you did, too," Owen replied.  "Amazing the opportunities that can come from something like a shuttle accident."

Chakotay looked up sharply and said, "That wasn't an opportunity, it scared me to death.  The idea of her dying without me ever making it all up to her … it was hell.  I thought I was being punished for my bad decisions, but Kathryn would pay the price with her life."

Owen noticed at that moment that Chakotay’s hands were trembling.  The memory of almost losing Kathryn was still jarring to the Captain.  Owen decided to take the conversation in a slightly less upsetting direction.

"So then my son convinced you that the 20th century held all the answers to your problems"

Chakotay grinned despite his anxiety, and his hands steadied.  He replied, "Something like that.”

Owen’s look turned serious again and he said, "I want to go back to something you said earlier, though.  What did you mean you were afraid you would never be enough for Katie?  Enough what?"

Chakotay sat back in his chair and looked past Owen.  He sighed and looked back at the older man.

"I was afraid I would never be good enough, Starfleet enough."

Owen looked quietly at Chakotay.  He was pretty sure he knew where this was headed, but he needed to hear the man say it.

“Why?  And I mean the main reason, the root.  Why did you think that?”

Chakotay looked evenly at the Admiral and replied, "There are a lot of reasons.  But the main one … Justin Tighe."

Owen nodded.  He thought it might come down to this.

"I knew Justin," Owen said.  "He was on the ship with us, and he rescued me from the Cardassians just as he rescued Katie.  He was a good man.  A very good man."

Chakotay nodded sadly.

"But he wasn't perfect.  Justin would have been the first person to tell you that.  And, honestly, I don't know that he and Katie would have lasted."

Chakotay looked up at the last comment and asked, "Why not?"

"People change, Chakotay," Owen replied.  "The girl Katie was is not the woman she became.  She was always headed for greatness, we all knew it.  But it can take people a while to find themselves, and they get caught in detours of many kinds along the way.  My Tom, he rebelled.  Katie’s detour was Justin."

Owen was silent for a moment, thinking.  Then he continued, "I am not saying they didn't love each other.  But they were so young, with so much else to discover about the universe and themselves. I know there is no way to know for certain, but I question it.  So did Edward.  So does Gretchen."

"Kathryn doesn't, though," Chakotay replied dejectedly.

"That's because she's never had to.  Her relationship with Mark didn't force her to, that's why we all knew it wasn't going to last.  Even if Voyager hadn't gotten lost, if Katie had captured you and returned in a few weeks as planned, she wouldn't have married Mark.  And that's why *you* my friend, are so frightening to her.  With you, she has to ask a question she has been avoiding for a very long time."

Owen looked away sadly and added "It's going to be very hard on her when she asks and answers that question, Chakotay.  Very hard.  Because it will make her realize something she hasn't wanted to face."

Chakotay looked at Owen curiously and said, "I'm not sure I am following you."

Owen sighed and said, "You need to figure it out on your own, I think.  If I explain what I am thinking, your first thought will be to disagree with me.  You love her too much to see her hurt – and believe me, it’s going to hurt.  But if you figure it out on your own, as Gretchen did and I did, I think it will help you to help her.  She's going to need help, Chakotay.  And if she doesn't figure this out, the two of you don't stand a chance."

Chakotay was intrigued and a little frightened.

"Please tell me, Owen."

Owen smiled and stood up.

"No.  But I will point you in the direction.  Katie gives you and everyone the impression that Justin was the love of her life.  I don't think he was, but I know why she believes it.  I understand why, after he died, she needed to believe it.  If you can figure that out, too, then you can help her.  And you will prove to me, and to Edward, that you are the love she deserves."

With that, he left.

------------
  
Chakotay was still pondering Owen Paris’s words when Sekaya returned that evening.

"You look deep in thought, brother," she said as she kissed the top of his head and planted herself in a chair next to him.  "What have you done today, aside from the obvious>?"

"The obvious?”

"Obviously you've set here feeling sorry for yourself.  You done anything else to break the monotony?"

"I had a visit from Admiral Paris, Tom’s father," Chakotay replied.

"Really?  Why?"

"He wanted to talk with me about Kathryn.  It was … it was sweet, actually.  He came here on behalf of Kathryn’s father Edward.  I had forgotten, the two of them were good friends with Kathryn was young.  He feels some, I don't know, fatherly responsibility for her and Phoebe.  And he came to ask me about my intentions toward Kathryn."

"That is sweet," Sekaya said softly.  "How did it go?  Did you talk about last night?"

"A little," Chakotay replied.  "Not about the fight, though."

He shifted uncomfortably and pulled at his earlobe and said, "We talked about Erick Greene."  He then filled Sekaya in on the brief discussion between the Admiral, the Commander, and Kathryn.

"Sooooo, Kathryn isn't pining after that starched jerk," Sekaya said with a smirk.  She reached over to smack Chakotay’s head and added, "I told you so."

"Yes," Chakotay sighed, "You were right.  For once in your life, you were right."  He looked towards the ceiling and shouted, "Sekaya was right!"

She nodded and said, "Was that so hard?"

"Yes," he muttered.  He looked preoccupied.

"What else happened in this conversation?" Sekaya asked.

"He says there is something I need to understand about Kathryn, something I am going to have to help her understand.  And that if we can't work it out, he says she and I won't have a chance."

Sekaya, a little taken aback, asked. "What does that mean?"

Chakotay sighed and said, "I have no idea."  Then he filled her in on the latter part of his talk with Owen Paris.

The two of them parsed the Admiral’s words over dinner.  Eventually, Sekaya said, "OK, let's go back to him saying he knows why she believes Justin was the love of her life, and why she needed to believe it.  That's the thing that keeps jumping out to me, the idea she needed to believe it.  Why would you need to believe something like that?  I mean, it seems like you either would or wouldn't believe that someone was the love of your life."

Chakotay shrugged and said, “I honestly don’t know.  A way of honoring him, reminding herself to stay committed to him?

"But she didn’t stay committed," Sekaya replied, "because she got engaged again.  If she was holding onto him as the love of her life to avoid other relationships, she never would have gotten engaged to that other guy."

They sat in silence for a while.

"Could it be because he was her rescue, like, her hero?" Sekaya asked.

C shook his head doubtfully and said, "I don't think so.  She would have been incredibly grateful for that, she still is.  Hell, I'm grateful for it. But Kathryn’s not the kind of woman who would just hand over her heart as thanks for a brave act.  That sounds like something from medieval times."

More silent thought.

Then Sekaya said, "Paris told you she'd needed to believe it after he died.  Why then?  I know that he and Kathryn’s father died together, is there something more to that story?"

Chakotay looked a little uncomfortable.  This was getting into some pretty intimate parts of Kathryn’s past - was it appropriate for him to talk about it?  He looked at his sister, and he thought about how close she and Kathryn had gotten in a very short time.  He also remembered the night he'd broken down over his own family history in front of Gretchen, Phoebe, and Matt.  He had taken a leap that night, trusting his pain to the family of the woman he loved.  Was Kathryn as trusting?  Would it bother her for Sekaya to know?

He decided it was worth the risk.

"Their deaths … yes, they died together.  What's not commonly known is that Kathryn was with them on that trip.  They were testing an experimental shuttle, just the three of them, and when it crashed, she was thrown clear of the wreckage.  A lot of equipment was thrown out with her.  She came too very quickly and, seeing the shuttle beginning to sink, she tried to find something she could use to rescue them."

Sekaya looked at her brother, her face showing the pain he was feeling.  He sighed and continued.

“She cobbled up enough equipment to power a small transporter device.  The shuttle was still sinking, and she could see both men looking at her through the view port.  She only had enough power to transport one of them, not both of them.  These men she loved were looking at her, and she couldn't save both of them.  She would have to choose.  But she couldn't do it.  She was trying desperately to get more power into the unit when the shuttle went under water and they both died."

Tears were running down Sekaya's face, and she choked out, "Oh, Chakotay.  How awful for her."

Chakotay wiped a tear from his own cheek and nodded.  He reached for his sister’s hand.  The overwhelming truth of Kathryn’s loss reminded them of their own.

"It's defined her, Sekaya.  It explained so many of the decisions she made in the Delta Quadrant.  She never made more sense to me than she did the night she told that story.  She was being forced to choose between her father and the love of her life, and she couldn't choose, and they both died."

Sekaya finally said, "I can't imagine."

Chakotay replied, "Probably better not to.  What a terrible choice to be faced with."

They sat in silence for a little while longer, then Sekaya stirred.

"Chakotay," she said, "I am thinking about something Admiral Paris said.  He said Kathryn saw Justin as the love of her life after he died, right?"

Chakotay nodded.

"Which suggests," Sekaya continued, "that she hadn't really seen him like that before he died.  I mean, she loved him, she was engaged to him.  But there's no mention of 'love of her life' until after he died."

Chakotay's brow furrowed and he said, "I guess not."

"So I go back to my original question, why did she need to believe he was the love of her life?  What about his death made that necessary?"

The both concentrated for a few moments, then they both looked up at each other, startled, at the same time.

"Chakotay!" Sekaya gasped with wide eyes, then covered her mouth with her hand

"Oh, God," Chakotay moaned.

"He had to be the love of her life," Sekaya said, "because that was the only way she could live with it."

Chakotay's hands covered his eyes, the pain evident in his voice, as he replied, "The only way she could justify it to herself all these years."

The tears were coming down Sekaya’s face again as she said, "The only way she rationalize to herself *not* saving her father …."

"... was if it was a choice between him and the love of her life." Chakotay finished.  "And if she ever were to admit that he perhaps wasn't the love of her life, that her love for Justin ultimately wasn’t comparable to her love for her father, then in her mind …"

"... in her mind, she would think she lost her father for nothing."

------------

It was a couple of hours later when Chakotay went to Sekaya’s room to wish her a goodnight.  He had just gotten off the comm with Owen Paris.

Sekaya was sitting on her bed reading Dr. Love's book when Chakotay came in.  She set it aside and looked at the weary face of her brother as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"What did he say?" she asked softly.

"That we were right," Chakotay sighed.  "That it was something he and Gretchen figured out not long after Kathryn and Mark got engaged.  That they never believed she would marry Mark, so they didn't confront her about it then.  And, for obvious reasons, the let it go when Voyager disappeared."

"But then Voyager returned," Sekaya replied.

"Yes, it returned.  But it took a year for me and Kathryn to find our way back to one another.  And now Owen and Gretchen feel that the only way she will be free to love me is to face this truth."

He looked at his sister and said, plaintively, "I don't know what to do, Sekaya.  This is the last barrier between us.  This is the one that has to go, but I am afraid it will kill her.  I don't know what to do."

His voice broke as he said, "To love her, I have to break her heart.  Tell me what to do."  And he began to sob.

Sekaya crawled to his side and held her brother, rocking him like a child and whispering words of comfort.

But she was completely, totally unable to tell him what to do.

Chapter Text

It was mid-morning when Kathryn headed downstairs.  Her mother had left her a note telling her coffee and a light breakfast were waiting for her.  Gretchen also told her not to make any decisions, or make any calls, until the two of them had a chance to talk.

Kathryn saw the wisdom in the suggestion.

She'd just finished her third cup of coffee and half a piece of dry toast when she heard a knock at the door.  Assuming it was someone for her mother, Kathryn walked right over to answer it.  She opened the door and dropped her toast.

"Seven!" she said, startled.

Seven nodded at her.

"Good morning, Admiral.  May I come in?"

"Uh, yes," Kathryn replied as she picked the toast up off the floor and set it on the counter.  "Can I get you something to drink?"

"A coffee would be fine.  Black, no sugar."

Another surprise for Kathryn.

"When did you start drinking coffee," she asked as she poured Seven a cup and refreshed her own.

"Thank you," Seven responded as Kathryn handed her a mug.  "I started drinking it a few weeks ago, while I was on the USS Mae Jemison.  I remembered how fondly you spoke of it and I decided to try it.  I find the warmth and the taste to be very pleasing in the morning."

"I do, too," Kathryn said, running a hand through her hair.  She hadn't brushed it since rolling out of bed just a little while ago – since before the cookout yesterday, come to think of it.

"How are you, Seven," she asked.  "I am sorry I didn't get to talk with you last night.  I saw you … once … but then I didn't see you again."

"I was there for only a little while, Admiral. I needed to speak with Chakotay, and that conversation was longer than I expected.  I needed to get home soon after I saw him, and I didn't have time to speak with anyone else."

Before she even realized it, Kathryn asked the question she was most afraid to have answered.

“Do you want to get back together with Chakotay, Seven?  Is that why you needed to see him?”

Seven raised an eyebrow in response and said, “I do not.  Is that what he told you?”

“No, he didn't, I'm not sure what made me ask that,” Kathryn responded a little awkwardly.  She didn’t want to say what she had assumed the nature of Seven and Chakotay’s … interaction … had been.  In the light of day, with a stomach full of coffee and not liquor, Kathryn knew how foolish it sounded.

Seven said, "I needed to ask him a few questions about the time he and I spent together.  Our conversation at the 'girls’ night' a few weeks ago has stayed on my mind.  I have been surprised to find myself going back to it over and over.  I had almost succeeded in removing it from my daily thought processes when … something happened.  As a result, I needed to understand my relationship with Chakotay better."

She stopped talking and looked at the floor.

Kathryn wasn't sure where Seven was going with this, but the young woman looked a little lost.

"What happened, Seven?" Kathryn asked softly.

Seven looked up, her eyes shining, a tear slipping down one cheek.  She was smiling.

"I got a message from Axum.  Axum is on his way here."

Kathryn leaned forward and asked, "Axum?  Your friend from Unimatix Zero?"

"My love from Uunimatix Zero," Seven corrected her.  "My first love.  My only love, it seems.  He has reached the Alpha Quadrant and made contact with Starfleet.  He sent me a lengthy comm, text-only.  He says he wants to see me.  He says he loves me."

Seven looked at her mentor and said, “My only experience with love in the waking world is the relationship I had with Chakotay.  In order to try an increase the odds of success with Axum, I needed to understand why I had failed with Chakotay.  So I asked him.”

Seven began to detail for Kathryn the discussion she’d had the night before:

The former lovers had not made it very far down the path when Seven asked, “Chakotay, I need to know why we did not fall in love.”

Chakotay stopped and looked at Seven with raised eyebrows.

“Oh, is that all?”

When Seven did not respond with one of her rare expressions of humor, Chakotay mentally kicked himself – she was serious.

“It’s not as simple as diagnosing an issue with the deflector dish, Seven.  Love is more complicated than you can realize.”

“I do realize it.  This is why I need to know what defect there was in our relationship.  I have been unable to identify any error, and I must be able to do this.”

Chakotay took a seat on a nearby fallen tree and asked her, “Why is this important to you?”

Seven sat next to him awkwardly, and not too close.

“I entered a relationship with you only after examining many variables.  I took in a great deal of information about human mating rituals and romance and attempted to apply it when situationally appropriate.  When I observed certain feedback from you, I escalated the attachment.  You and I spent several weeks together and engaged in intercourse on eighteen different occasions.”

She was quiet for a moment as she looked at the ground.  When she looked back up at him, her eyes showed honest confusion.

“But I did not love you.  And you did not love me.”

Chakotay nodded and said, “That is true.”

“Why not?” Seven asked.  There was no pain or heartbreak in her voice.  She simply did not understand.

“I … I don’t know, Seven,” Chakotay replied haltingly.  He didn’t know how to explain it to her, that love was not an equation.

Or, maybe that was the explanation right there.

“Love is not an equation, Seven.  You cannot identify all the variables, control them, and come to a predictable result.  I am not sure it’s even possible to know all the variables.  What might matter to one person or couple might not matter to the next.”

Seven tilted her head a little and asked, “Can you tell me why you and Admiral Janeway appear to love each other, when you and I did not?”

Chakotay shook his head and replied, “I really can’t.  The only response I can give you is one you won’t like because it is vague – some things are meant to be, and some things aren’t.”

She looked at him as though waiting for him to explain more.  Instead, he asked her a question.

“Seven, did things between us ever feel *right* to you?  I am not asking if met your expectations, or if some facet of our relationship was in line with your predicted outcomes.  I am asking you if you ever felt totally, completely comfortable with me, and with yourself, in a way that made you hopeful for a future with me?  Did you ever feel free to be exactly who you are deep inside without the fear you would be judged for it?”

Seven faltered a bit, answering. “I, … I do not believe I remember such a feeling.”

She looked at him and asked, “Is that what you feel with Admiral Janeway?”

He smiled and said, “Yes.  And more than that, actually.”

“More?” Seven inquired.

“I think this is the part of love that you will never be able to quantify, Seven.  With Kathryn, I just feel …  more.  The things that are good are better.  The things I enjoy, I enjoy more with her.  I laugh more with Kathryn than anyone I’ve ever known.  Food tastes better, the sky is bluer, all of the clichés from all the love songs come alive.”

He stood up and looked down at Seven and asked, “Has anyone ever made you feel like that?”

Kathryn sat at rapt attention.  Hearing Seven’s account of Chakotay’s feelings for her was remarkable.  

“How did you answer his question, Seven?” Kathryn asked.

Seven swallowed nervously and said, “I told him that no one had ever made me feel like that.  But I was lying.  I believe I have felt like that.  I believe it is how I felt with Axum.  But I did not wish to discuss it with Chakotay.  Was that wrong?”

Kathryn reached for her hand and said, “Seven, it wasn’t wrong.  Your feelings about Axum are yours to discuss with whomever you want.”

“Thank you, Admiral.”

Seven paused, then wiped the tear from her face with a shaking hand.  "I would like to talk with you about it, if that is acceptable.  You are the only person with whom I feel comfortable speaking of Axum.  Would … would you be willing to help me understand all of these emotions?"

Kathryn felt her heart filling.  She’d felt such resentment for her protégé in the last year, even in the last day.  And here she was, asking Kathryn to help her navigate her first love.  A sweet love with real potential, a love that was completely and uniquely her own.

Kathryn knew that part of her positive reaction was the knowledge that Seven wasn't trying to reconcile with Chakotay - but Kathryn could honestly say it was only a very small part.  She was delighted for her young friend.

"Oh, Seven," Kathryn said, moving to sit next to her on the couch.  "I am so happy you have a chance to get to know him in the waking world.  You must be thrilled."

Then she remembered what Seven had said earlier.

"Why did hearing from Axum mean you needed to understand your relationship with Chakotay better?  What specifically were you wanting to understand?"

Seven looked away, then sighed.

"At our ‘girls’ night,’ I made many comments about the nature of my time with Chakotay, and the others had strong reactions.  At first, I was concerned only that I had said something wrong.  As time went on, though, I started wondering if I had done something wrong with him.  If there was something about the nature of my interactions with Chakotay that caused us to separate.  Had I acted incorrectly in our intimate encounters?  Was I lacking some skill or physical characteristic that a mate requires in another to be happy?"

She looked at Kathryn with wide, honest eyes and said, "If my relationship with Chakotay ended because of mistakes I made, that does not bother me.  However, I believe it would bother me a great deal to make the same mistakes with Axum and lose him."

“Did you get the answers you were looking for from Chakotay?” Kathryn asked.

Seven shook her head and replied, “No, not really.  The conversation seemed to embarrass him.  I believe he does not want to be reminded that we were once physically intimate.  I asked him for specific information about my performance, and he would not provide feedback.”

Kathryn hid a smile.  On the one hand, she could imagine the look on Chakotay’s face in response to such an inquiry.  But on the other hand, she could sense the real purpose behind Seven’s questions.  

Seven’s relationship with Chakotay had been an experiment, definitely for her and maybe even for him.  But the difference for Seven was that she had no previous experience against which to understand what happened between the two of them, and what did not happen.  She really had no way to determine what did and did not work in their brief time.

It all of a sudden occurred to Kathryn that no one had ever had “the talk” with Seven.  Not the talk where methods of reproduction and the mechanics of sex are explained, but the one where the delicate connection between body, heart, and spirit are considered.  The talk that a mother might have with her daughter as the girl first discovered love and sexual desire.

Kathryn remembered “the talk” she’d had with her mother when she was a teen.  Could she try and have a similar talk with Seven?  Would it help her?

There was only one way to find out.

A couple of hours later, Kathryn was worn out.  She’d done her best to explain that the physical pleasure of sex and the joy of love didn’t always lead one right to the other.  That had been the easy part of “the talk.”  Seven’s almost encyclopedic knowledge of sex – positions, techniques, assistive technologies, etc. – made the older woman blush. Kathryn had done her best to answer the questions put to her but, not having access to the Borg Kama Sutra, she felt very much at sea.

Trying to explain the way love and sex worked together wasn’t much easier.  She was able to get Seven to share her memories from Unimatrix Zero.  Seven thought that she and Axum had, in their dream states, enjoyed “physical” intimacy.  But it had been a dream, an idyllic one.  Seven was afraid that the reality wouldn’t live up to the dream.

“Oh, Seven, that problem isn’t unique to Unimatrix Zero.  Most people have dreams of what a love or sex will be.  The fear that reality won’t measure up to what we hope for is a common human experience.  Most of us get to spend years, even decades, learning to balance our dreams against what might be possible.  You didn’t have the same chance, and I gather Axum didn’t either.  It will take a great deal of courage from both of you to take a chance on reality.”

Seven nodded.  Kathryn wasn’t certain she would really understand what she was being told until she was face-to-face with Axum.  In the end, though, Kathryn felt as though she had communicated the most important thing to Seven – that the two former drones should allow themselves plenty of time to be comfortable with one another.  There was no need to rush sex or love.

You can’t hurry love

A flash of memory startled Kathryn.  That had been the words she heard, the song playing, when her fight with Chakotay began last night.

Kathryn felt the soft tendrils of understanding starting to work their way through her mind, but now wasn’t the time.  She would have to set this aside for later.

Seven had a lot to think about before she headed back into space to meet the ship carrying Axum. As she prepared to leave, she unexpectedly embraced the Admiral.  Kathryn was moved and hugged her back.

“Thank you for allowing me to discuss all of this with you, Admiral.  It was helpful to do so.”

“You are most welcome, Seven.  I look forward to hearing from you about Axum, I have a good feeling about him.”

“And I have a good feeling about you and Chakotay,” Seven replied.  “I am happy to know that I my relationship with him did not cause you any lasting harm.”

Kathryn shook her head and said, “That’s exactly what I told you at girls’ night, remember?”

“Yes,” Seven replied, “and Chakotay said the same.”

“Really?  When did he do that?” Kathryn asked.

“Last night.  I asked him if something I did, or failed to do, is the reason the two of you have not been sexually active.”

“And what did he say?” Kathryn asked curiously.

“He said your failure thus far to copulate wasn’t my fault, that it was his.  He said had to prove something to you first.”

------------

Seven had just left when Gretchen walked in her house.

“You look better,” Gretchen to Kathryn and she set her shopping bags on the counter.  When she went to her daughter to giver her a hug, though, she made a face and added, “You do not smell better.”

Kathryn rolled her eyes and said, “I haven’t been up for that long, only a couple of hours or so.  I wanted coffee before I showered, but before I had a chance, I got a visitor.”

“Ooo, was it Chakotay?” Gretchen asked hopefully.

“No,” Kathryn replied, “It was Seven.”

Gretchen shot a look at her daughter and asked, “Were you nice to her?”

“Yes, mother, I was nice to her,” Kathryn replied in exasperation.

“It’s a reasonable question,” Gretchen said with a slight smirk, “since last night you were convinced she was trying to, how did you put it in your drunken stupor, ‘assimilate Chakotay sexually with her voluptuous eyes and nanoprobes.’  Which might be the most nonsensical thing I have ever heard you say.  How can a person have voluptuous eyes?”

Kathryn dismissed the question with a wave of her hand and said, “You are going to have to ask Beverly.”

Gretchen went back to unload her shopping bags, and Kathryn followed her to the kitchen to freshen her coffee.

“What did Seven want, then?” Gretchen asked.

Kathryn sighed and said, “She wanted reassurance, I think.  She’s about to go on a mission that’s going to … well, it’s going to put her back in touch with her first love.”

Gretchen’s brow furrowed and she asked, “Seven was involved with someone else on Voyager?”

“No,” Kathryn responded.  “It was literally a dream love.  His name was Axum, and he also was Borg.”

Kathryn then told her mother the story of Unimatrix Zero and Seven’s relationship with Axum there.  She left out the part of how she, B’Elanna, and Tuvok allowed themselves to be assimilated – as strong as she knew her mother was, there were still some things Kathryn thought might be too much for her to hear.

“So all the drones who had been part of Unimatrix Zero maintained their memories of it when they completed their last regeneration cycle before we had to destroy it.  That’s where the whole Borg Resistance Movement originated, with drones we freed and who were able to free others.  I think if Axum had been in the Delta Quadrant then, Seven would have sought him out.  But he was further away from us than Earth.  I don’t think anyone thought they would ever see each other again, but it looks like it’s going to happen.”

“I think that’s wonderful,” Gretchen replied with a smile.  “And she wanted you to tell her she should pursue a relationship with him?”

Kathryn shook her head and said, “No, she already knew she was going to do that.  She wanted to talk to me about *how* to do it.”

She chuckled a bit and added, “She wanted to talk to me about sex.”

Gretchen’s eyebrows shot up at that.

“I kind of wish you had been here, mom.  I think what she needed was a talk with her mother.  Like you had with me and with Phoebe.  An explanation of how love and sex go together.  I think her experiences with Chakotay, where she basically planned a sex life and expected it to become love, left her very afraid of failure.  She doesn’t want to fail.”

“What did you tell her?” Gretchen asked.

Kathryn smiled and said, “I tried to remember all those things you told me when I was younger, and I told her those.”

“Do you think she got anything from it?

“I think so,” Kathryn replied.

Gretchen watched her daughter for a moment.  She looked preoccupied, and Gretchen didn’t think it had much to do with Seven.

“What else came up, Katie?  You clearly have something on your mind.”

Kathryn looked at her coffee cup for a moment.  When she finally looked back up at her mother, she was frowning.

“It something else Seven said, about something Chakotay said to her.  I can’t quite figure it out.”

Gretchen, who had finished with her shopping bags and had poured herself a cup of coffee, motioned for Kathryn to follow her to the living room.

“What did he say,” she asked.

“Seven has apparently been concerned for some time that it’s her fault that Chakotay and I haven’t, as she puts it, ‘copulated’ yet,” Kathryn replied.  Seeing the look on her mother’s face, she chuckled and said, “I know.  I told her it had nothing to do with her.  I reminded her of that earlier, and she said Chakotay had told her the same thing.”

“I guess he explained the whole courtship thing to her,” Gretchen said.

“No,” Kathryn said with a shake of her head, “that’s the thing.  Seven told me that Chakotay said it was *his* fault, that he had to prove something to me first.”

Kathryn looked at her mother in confusion and asked, “What on Earth could that mean?  What could he need to prove to me?”

“Oh, Katie, come on,” Gretchen replied.  “You are not that dense.”

Kathryn shared at her mother for a moment, then said, “Evidently I am because I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Gretchen sighed in exaggerated frustration and said, “Unbelievable.  Okay, why did you and Chakotay not ‘copulate’ as soon as you got back to Earth?”

“Because he was ‘copulating’ with someone else,” Kathryn replied coolly.

 “And why was he doing that?” prompted Gretchen.

“Because he was horny and has a thing for blondes, mom, where are you going with this?” Kathryn responded, her voice rising.

“Kathryn Janeway, why did Chakotay start a relationship with Seven instead of you?” Gretchen demanded.

Kathryn threw her hands up and said, “Because I wasn’t available and he was ….”

And she stopped.

Then she looked at Gretchen and said, “Oh.”

“Yes, dear daughter,” Gretchen said slowly.  “He nearly lost you forever because he didn’t wait for you.”

Kathryn nodded slowly and said, “And now he’s taking things slowly – glacially slow – to prove to me he can wait for me?”

“And to prove it to himself, yes,” Gretchen replied.

“To himself?” Kathryn repeated.

Gretchen smiled a little and said, “I don’t think you fully appreciate how much Chakotay let himself down when he gave up on you and got involved with Seven.  He made a mistake, he acted in a way that is contrary to the person he wants to be, and he lost the woman he loved.  He got you back as a friend, but was still paying for the mistake because he still couldn’t love you.  Then you almost died.”

Gretchen took a deep breath, the memories of those first hours after Kathryn’s accident were still hard to think of.

“Katie, he was walking around that hospital under a cloud of self-loathing.  He never said it out loud, but I could see it in his eyes as he watched you struggle to survive.  If he ever got another chance with you, he wasn’t going to mess it up.  He’s got to prove to himself that he can do it, that he can wait, that he is worthy of you.”

Kathryn thought about it for a second and said, “So when I tried to get him have a quickie against a tree with me in the park last night, I was basically dismissing this effort he is trying to make for me.  For us.”

“Yes, I think he … wait, you did what?”

Kathryn shook her head and replied, “Forget that part, mom.  I made light of what he was trying to prove to himself and me.  I didn’t think about it like that, I thought it was just some silly by-product of this whole courtship approach.  I should have realized there was a reason for it.”

Gretchen mumbled, “Please never use the words ‘quickie against a tree’ in my presence again.”

“Oh, mother, forgive me,” Kathryn responded in mock horror, placing her hand over her heart.  “I have offended your delicate sensibilities.”

Not to be outdone, Gretchen responded, “Let me tell you about the time your father and I played ‘Ten Minutes in a Jeffries Tube’ and *you* were created ….”

“Nope!” Kathryn yelled, jumping up.  “No, no, no, time for me to take a nice long bath, stop talking!”  

And she ran out of the room.

As Gretchen chuckled heard the comm sound.  When she answered it, she saw the face of Owen Paris.

"Hi, Owen, how are you?" she asked.  

"I'm OK.  I'm sorry Julia and I didn't get to spend much time with you last night.  We were busy with Miral and then you … uh, you had to leave early."

"Because of your puking Admiral?  Yep, that was us." Gretchen replied 

"Is she OK this morning?" Owen asked.

"She is.  She's just gone to take a bath, a good long one.  You want me to have her call you later?"

"No," Owen replied a little uneasily.  "I actually wanted to talk with you.  I, uh, had an interesting conversation with Kathryn last night.  And I followed it with an equally interesting conversation with Chakotay today."

Gretchen sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

"Do I even want to know?"

"You do," Owen replied, and he began recounting his talk with Kathryn:

After Commander Erick Greene slunk off, Kathryn and Owen spent a few moments comparing notes on Nechayev’s slimy aide.  The two appeared to be of the same mind when it came to him, and his boss.

"I don't know why he thinks I might be even remotely interested in him," Kathryn said.

"Well, I think Alynna has pushed him towards you.  She likes him a lot.  And to be totally honest, he has done some good work.  Did you know he was a Ranger?"

"Him?" Kathryn asked wide-eyed.  "THAT guy was a ranger? Are you serious?"

"I am," Owen replied.  "In fact, he was in the class only four years behind Justin.  Of course, a lot of his service in that capacity has been kept quiet.  He was undercover on a number of missions, he seems to have the personality for that type of work."

"Undercover?  Yeah, I guess I can see that," Kathryn said.  "He's such an ass, though.  Is that his actual personality or an act?"

Owen chuckled and said, "Probably a little of both.  He behaves the way Alynna expects him to.  He's been assigned to her for nearly six years, and they very much feed off of each other."

"Huh.  Maybe it's the undercover part.  Officers who specialize in that become such chameleons.  Even though I know they are doing it for Starfleet, and usually in very dangerous circumstances, I find them all to be very … I don't know.  Untrustworthy."

"That's not particularly fair of you, Katie," Owen admonished.  "Look, I get that he's a jerk - I am pretty sure I made my feelings clear to him.  And I was serious that he needs to let the whole Maquis thing go.  But he's done some good work."

Kathryn waved her hand in dismissal and said, "Let's talk about something else, please."

"OK," Owen said, taking a seat on one of the pavilion benches.  "Let's talk about Chakotay."

"What about him," Kathryn asked warily.

"I am planning to have him arrested for treason and wanted to know if you will testify against him," Owen replied.  Then seeing the split-second look of panic on Kathryn’s face, he smiled and added, "Kidding!"

Kathryn gave him a death glare that was tempered with a tiny, tiny smirk.

"OK, about Chakotay," Owen continued.  "I am curious about your feelings for him, and what you know about his feelings for you.  I want to know what kind of future you see with him.  I want to know if the two of you have thought about how you can make a two-officer relationship work."

Kathryn furrowed her brow and asked, "Why does this feel familiar to me?"

Owen smiled and said, "Because this is basically the same conversation your father had with you about Justin."

Kathryn thought for a moment and then her eyebrows rose in recognition.

"It is!  I actually think he asked some of those same questions!  How did you know that?"

"Because he and I talked about it," Owen replied.  "He told me about the talk he had with you, and with Justin.  He and I shared a number of our little parenting stories.  We, uh, well …."

Owen's voice dropped off.  He looked at the ground.

Kathryn sat next to him on the bench and asked softly, "What?  What did you and daddy do?"

Owen took her hand and squeezed it.  He said, "Kathryn, your father was one of my best friends.  He and I served together for a long time.  And when we started having kids, we promised to be there for each other’s families if anything ever happened.  To that end, we talked a lot about how we parented.  He told me about being a father to a couple of strong-willed, incredible girls, each of whom was headed in a different direction.  I told him about being father to my own less willful girls, and to a talented, occasionally irresponsible boy who was far harder on himself than he ever should have been.  We wanted to prepare each other for the possibility of having to step in."   

He was quiet for a moment, then continued.  "I felt like I failed him when I allowed you and me to be captured.  It took a long time for him to convince me that I could be both a commanding officer to you, and friend to him.  I am not talking to you as an Admiral, Katie, I am here for your father, because he asked me to be.  It's a responsibility I take seriously, albeit one I wish I'd never had to take on.  There is no doubt in my mind he would have done the same for me, probably even more."

Owen sighed and he said, his voice cracking a bit, "Edward should be here for this, Katie.  For you.  Not me.  But this is how it is, so I am going to do the best I can in his stead."

Kathryn didn't want to cry.  Owen was trying so hard to keep control of his emotions, and she didn't want to make it more difficult for him.  She closed her eyes to will the tears away and laid her head on his shoulder.  She waited until she felt he had regained some emotional equilibrium and then spoke again.

"Did you have this kind of fatherly talk with Phoebe about Matt?"

Owen cleared his throat and said, in a stronger voice, "I did.  It was rough.  She and I didn't have the kind of relationship you and I have.  And this was before we first heard from Voyager.  When I went to see her, she just saw me as the uniform - one of the people who had taken her father and taken her sister.  But your dad had given me some hints about talking with her.  Your mom had, too.  After a very unpleasant twenty minutes or so, she finally let me in.  It was a good talk, I think.  For both of us."

Then Owen chuckled and added, "For Matt, it was less so."

Kathryn looked up and asked, "You talked to Matt?"

"Yes, I had an obligation to your father to threaten him within an inch of his life if he hurt your sister.  So I did.  And, uh," and Owen winked at Kathryn, "I enjoyed the hell out of it."

Kathryn laughed at this, then stopped as something occurred to her.

"Wait.  I don't remember you doing anything like that to Mark.  Come to think of it, you didn't talk to me about Mark.  Why not?"

Owen regarded Kathryn for a moment, then shrugged and said, "I never saw a need.  I never believed that relationship would go anywhere."

Kathryn shook her head and replied, "Am I the only person who was unaware that Mark and I had no future?  Mom said she didn't think we would ever marry, either."

"Look, Katie," Owen said, "we all knew you cared for Mark.  But there was no great passion there.  The two of you distracted one another for a while.  I think he might have taken it more seriously than you, he did propose.  But, be honest Katie, did you see yourself forever with him?  Did you see yourself growing old with him?"

"I don't think I ever thought of it that way," Kathryn replied after a pause, looking a little uncertain.  "I … it just made sense to marry him."

"Did it make sense to marry Justin" Owen asked quietly.

"Oh, yes," Kathryn responded quickly – too quickly, Owen though.  "He was everything, everything.  He saved my life, he saved yours.  He was everything.

Kathryn looked out at the crowd in the distance and said again, absently, "Everything."

After another moment, Owen asked "Does it make sense to marry Chakotay?" 

His best friend’s daughter turned to look at him and smiled.  Then she laughed and said, "I have no idea.  But I am damn sure interested in finding out."

"Do you see yourself growing old with him?"

"You know something, I do.  I see us fat and gray and still making one another laugh.  I see us with wrinkles in ugly clothing on mom's porch swing, still arguing the merits of coffee versus tea.  Surrounded by grandkids.  I can hear our voices reading to one another.  And it gives me goosebumps, Owen."

She smiled wider than he had seen her smile since she was a girl and said to him, "It's a hell of a thing, Owen, a hell of a thing."

Gretchen was misty-eyes when Owen finished telling her of his talk with Kathryn.

“Edward would thank you for that, Owen.  I thank you.”

Owen smiled and said, “It’s my pleasure, Gretchen.  You know Julia and I love those girls.  Edward should be here, but since he isn’t, I will do what I can.”

Then his face got serious and he said, “The fact he’s not here – and why he’s not here, and Justin, and what that all really means – is going to have to be dealt with, you know that.”

Gretchen sighed and said, “I know.”  She momentarily looked away, as if in the direction of the en suite where Kathryn currently was.  Then she looked back at Owen and said, “I kind of despise myself for being such a coward about it.  I guess part of me hoped we’d never have to talk to her about it.  But that’s the same as hoping she would never fall in love again, and that’s not what I want.  It’s just ….”

She looked down for a moment.  When she looked back up, her eyes were watery.

“I don’t want her to hurt like that, Owen.”

“Neither do I,” Owen replied gently.  “But she will never be truly free to love Chakotay if she doesn’t confront this.  And I really think he’s the one for her, Gretchen.  I went and saw him today.”

“How was he,” Gretchen asked.  “I know he and Kathryn fought last night.”

“He’s probably looked better,” Owen said with a smile.  “But he handled my questions well.  And I believe he loves her as she deserves.”

“Does he know that Kathryn isn’t totally free yet to love him as he deserves?”

Owen tilted his head thoughtfully and said, “Maybe.  I told him that he is going to have to help Katie deal with something significant before they can have a chance.  He, of course, wanted me to tell him, but I refused.  I told him it would be better if he figured it out on his own.  What I didn’t tell him what that I think if he *does* figure it out and help her through it, it will be the last assurance I need.”

“I agree,” Gretchen said.  “You know, I asked him what his intentions towards Katie were back when she was still in the hospital. He told me he wanted to marry her.  I told him then it wouldn’t be easy.  I guess he’s about to find out what I meant by that.”

Owen nodded and said, “And the way he handles it will tell us the worth of the man.”

“It will,” Gretchen agreed.  “Keep me apprised, Owen, and thank you.”

As Gretchen turned off her comm, she noticed the light flashing on Kathryn’s message queue.  She was curious, and it was her comm device, so she checked it.

Kathryn had a message from Chakotay waiting for her.

------------

An hour or so after she finished her bath, Kathryn got around to checking her messages.  There were several from Starfleet and her former Voyager crew (no doubt checking on her and her evening with Glenlivet), but the only one stood out to her – a text-only message from Chakotay.  She opened it immediately and began reading:

My dearest Kathryn,

I am so sorry for how I behaved last night.  I don’t know why I reacted the way I did when we went on our walk.  I am sure the scotch played a part.

I think I was afraid the scotch played a part in what you were doing.  I need to make something clear to you, Kathryn.  I WANT YOU.  Yes, I love you.  Yes, I admire you.  Yes, to all the good and wholesome and pure things a man can say about a woman.  

But make no mistake, I desire you in a way that is so incredibly far removed from “wholesome.”  When I am away from you, when I am near you, when you look at me, and when you look away.  All the time.  I want every curve and line of you in my hands.  Every square inch of you, I want.  I want all of you to be mine.

I’ve wanted you like that since the moment I met you – if we had made love that very day, and then ten times a day each and every day in the eight years since, it still would not have been enough.

When I “no” last night, I wasn’t saying “no” to you, I was saying “no” to that place and time.  When we make love for the first time, my beautiful Kathryn, it will be more than just sex.  I want both of us to have the time and the presence of mind take it in, to revel in every moment.

One day, if you want, we will return to the park and that tree, and we’ll make a memory.  And maybe a few others – there are a lot of trees there.  But that’s for “one day” down the road.  There is so much I want to do with you before then.

Will you be patient with me, with us?  Will you allow me to honor my love and desire for you in a way that, I believe, will ensure our future?

If you are willing, I would like to continue to “go steady” with you.  I will make it worth your wait, I promise.

I think I remember you saying you have meetings tomorrow morning, and I have them tomorrow afternoon.  And then I need to spend a little more time with Sekaya tomorrow night, she’s leaving the next morning.  How about we plan to spend some time together the next afternoon?  That will give us time to think about where we are headed with all of this.  It ought to give us time to get through the journals we wrote for each other.

And I have a gift I want to give you.

I need to wrap this up – Sekaya will be home soon and I need to make dinner.  Send me a note and let me know you what you want to do, and to let me know you are OK.

I love you, Kathryn Janeway.  

Chakotay

Kathryn smiled as she finished Chakotay’s message.  She also trembled a bit – when she read his words describing his desire for her, she heard his voice saying them.  A low, intense whisper.  Her body reacted, her face flushed.

She typed a quick response to him:

Chakotay.

2:00, day after tomorrow, my new house.

Love, Kathryn

PS:  I want you more

Then she wondered what her mother would say if, an hour after her bath, she took a very long, very cold shower.

Chapter Text

The next day, Chakotay waited until he was certain Kathryn had gone to work before contacting Gretchen.  When she picked up, her reaction at seeing his face let him know she knew why he was calling.

"Good morning, Chakotay," she said with a soft smile and worried eyes.

"Good morning, Gretchen.  I guess you know why I've called."

Kathryn’s mother took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair.  She said, "I assume Owen’s talk with you yesterday produced some results.  You thought through the things he said, and you figured out the last thing really standing in the way of you and Katie.  And now you are wondering what to do."

"I guess," Chakotay replied tiredly.  "Honestly, Gretchen, I got very little sleep last night worrying about this.  I think Owen is right, Kathryn and I don't stand a real chance until Kathryn deals honestly with her feelings about Justin and his death.  For the longest time, I thought the thing that held her back was just Starfleet rules.  It’s more than that.  It’s Starfleet rules and ideals and, I don’t know, Starfleet perfection in the form of Justin Tighe.  The love of her life.  I can’t really compete with the love of her life.”

Gretchen responded, "He was the love of *that time* in her life, that's a very different thing.  And had Justin lived and they spent more time together, she probably would have figured it out.  Neither Edward nor I thought their relationship would last.  They were both young - she in age, him in overall life experience.  I am sure she told you some about him, hasn't she?"

Chakotay nodded and said, "Some, a long time ago.  I know he had an extremely difficult upbringing, and that he saw a lot of violence at a very early age."

"He did.  He had to grow up very quickly without a lot of the nurturing and care that children should have.  His emotional maturity, at least when it came to romantic and familiar relationships, was lacking."

Gretchen leaned forward with an intense look on her face.

"Now, that doesn't mean he wasn't a remarkable young man, he was.  And it doesn't mean I don't believe he loved my daughter with all he had.  I believe he did.  They had a very intense, passionate love for one another.  But what they had in intensity, they lacked in depth.  It was an immature relationship.  I’ve told Katie before, their love was a plasma fire – intense, quick, dangerous.  It’s exciting in your youth, but it’s not the love you build a life on."

Chakotay nodded slightly and said, "I never thought to question anything about it until very recently.  Will Riker knows Kathryn, of course, but he also knew Justin.  Justin was part of the team that rescued and debriefed the survivors of the Pegasus destruction.  And while Will thought a lot of him, he just didn’t ‘get’ Justin and Kathryn."

“Not a lot of us did, Chakotay,” Gretchen admitted.  “There were times that I would look at the two of them and I would wonder if they would actually be friends if they hadn’t loved each other so much.  I am not sure they would have been.  They would have respected each other a great deal and worked together, but could never imagine them just … I don’t know, being quiet with one another.  I had a hard time seeing their love maturing.”

She continued, “Katie had always been a little irreverent – she still is.  Justin was very serious.  Katie questions everything, Justin questioned nothing.  Nothing from Starfleet, that is.  Katie loves reading and learning and debating.  Justin was brilliant, but he preferred to focus on certain topics and let them soak in his mind for a while before he spoke on them.  Once he spoke, though, that was it.”

Gretchen’s eyes got a faraway look, as though she was visiting a long-ago memory, and said, “One of the most amazing things to me was how little interest he had in Phoebe.  He was polite to her, but really made no attempt to know her.  It was just odd.  He went so far out of his way to get to know me and Edward, to learn our interests and to spend time with us.  But he made absolutely no effort with Phoebe.  And it drove her crazy.”  

She shook her head and said, “I remember her once we all attended a Starfleet event, were all at the same table, and he barely said five words to her or her date.  And it really wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, she just didn’t register to him, somehow.  Oh, and did she rant about it to me later – it really bothered her.  She said to me, ‘I’m the sister, I’m important.’  And she wasn’t wrong.  It may have been a result of his fractured childhood, I don't know.  But I thought it was, and would continue to be, a problem.”

Chakotay asked, “Kathryn never saw any of that?”

“I don’t know,” Gretchen admitted.  “And no one really wanted to point it out right then.  But it wasn't long after that Edward started wondering how solid their bond really was.  He kept asking me if I thought Katie was the kind of girl who would just fall in love with her rescuer, like a damsel in distress falling for a knight in shining armor.  I never thought she did *that*, but I really started wondering if they were truly meant for each other.”

She sighed and said, “Edward and I had planned to talk with her – with them – when all of them returned from testing that shuttle.  In fact, the day they left, I started working on a to-do list to cancel their wedding.  I was that sure Katie would end the engagement after we talked to her.  Of course, we ended up cancelling everything anyway … for a different reason.”

“I hate to ask this, Gretchen, please let me know if it’s too painful,” Chakotay said slowly.  “But when did you find out that Kathryn had tried to transport them both out of the wreckage?”

Gretchen took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“I knew it before Katie knew it.  Starfleet figured it out pretty quickly – the accident investigation showed what she had made and how she was trying to get it to work before she passed out that last time.  But I didn’t want to tell her.  And the counselors told me she needed to recover the memory on her own.  So I left it alone.  That was probably just as much for myself as anyone, though.”

Gretchen chuckled a bit and said, “Forgive me, Chakotay, but I am going to tell you something really macabre.  For a long time, I imagined the conversation between Edward and Justin as they were at the window of that shuttle watching Katie.  I imagined them each yelling at her to save the other one – I imagine it to this day.  I can hear Edward ordering her, ‘Transport Justin, he’s too young!’ and I can hear Justin begging, ‘Save your father, Kathryn!’  And I can picture my broken, bloodied daughter in the snow trying so hard to make the right connection to do what both of them demanded.”

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back.

“And then I hear Edward telling Justin – not to be rude but to be completely honest in his last moment alive – that he had doubts that the two of them should marry.  And I hear Justin agreeing.  I hear him wondering if he was right for Katie.  And then I hear the cabin completely filled with water, and I imagine the two of them looking at her passed out next to that make-shift device, the last sight they will see.  And I know their last thoughts are that she will hate herself for not saving them, and that they hope she knows she’s not to blame.”  

When she looked at Chakotay again, her face was the very image of heartbreak.

“That’s what I imagine when I think about it, Chakotay.  When Kathryn started remembering, what do you think was in her mind?  What pictures did she see?  What did she imagine their last thoughts were?  Somewhere in the midst of all of that tornado of darkness and self-recrimination, I think she had to make them equal.  I think she had to dismiss any doubts she had about Justin and make him comparable to her father.  As tragic as the idea of not being able to save her father and ‘the love of her life’ might have been, it had to be easier to deal with than the alternative – that she lost her father and a really great she dated, when she could have saved one of them.”

Chakotay wiped tears from his cheek and reached out to touch Gretchen’s image.

“Oh, Gretchen, I am so, so sorry.  I am so sorry.  You have carried the burden of that knowledge for so long.  You are an incredible woman and an even better mother.”

Kathryn’s mother, Edward’s wife, and Chakotay’s friend wiped her own tears away and whispered, “Thank you.  It has been hard all of these years.  I am sorry you have to share the burden.”

The pain on her face was hard for Chakotay to see.  He had really grown to love Kathryn’s mother and sister.  Gretchen was as close to a mother as he'd experienced in years.  And this discussion was hurting her so much.

The thought of causing the same pain to appear in Kathryn’s eyes was almost unbearable.

"I don't know how I am going to tell her any of this," Chakotay finally said.

Gretchen was stunned by this comment.

"You don't tell her, Chakotay!  Oh, you dear man, you thought we expect you to be the one to tell her?  No, no, I need to be the one – and maybe Phoebe, and maybe even Owen, too, I haven't figured that out yet.  But not you.  I would never ask that of you."

"Are you sure, Gretchen?" Chakotay asked.  "I feel like this is coming to a head because of me.  And I am willing, if you need me to."

"It's not because of you that this is happening now," Gretchen replied.  "We should have forced this issue a long time ago.  It should have come to a head before Mark, even.  To be honest, I was a coward about it.  I never took her relationship with Mark too seriously, even when they got engaged, so I chose not to discuss it.  Then Voyager disappeared and … well, as far as I knew, she was gone.”

Gretchen looked down for a moment, then back up at Chakotay.  She appeared nervous.

"I really fear that my unwillingness to discuss Justin with her might have contributed to her unwillingness to pursue anything with you while you were gone.  And don't say it," and she held up a hand as Chakotay started to dispute her, "I know she said it was about Starfleet and protocol.  But all her ideas about duty and her father and Starfleet and Justin got wrapped up so tightly.  Who knows what might have happened for the two of you if I had acted sooner?”

“We might not have gotten home in seven years,” Chakotay countered.  “I told you before, Gretchen, that I have come to the conclusion she was correct in holding back.  If we had been in a relationship, we might have decided to settle on a planet somewhere in the Delta Quadrant, and you wouldn’t have gotten your daughter back at all.”

“Fair point,” Gretchen sighed.  “I guess there’s no use wondering what might have been.”

She leaned forward towards the camera and screen.

“But Chakotay, I want you to understand something.  I want to confront this with her now because I want the two of you to succeed.  When I compare what she had with Justin, or what she had with Mark, with what she had and *can* have with you – well, I can’t compare it.  You and Kathryn aren’t in a different quadrant, the two of you are in a totally different universe.  I look at you and I see a man who loves all of who my daughter is, the good and the bad.  You aren’t looking at her and seeing ‘yesterday’ or ‘right now,’ you are seeing forever.  You want to be for her what she is for you – hope and acceptance.”

She tilted her head a bit and added, “And, no pressure Captain, but when I see you, I see grandchildren.  I never saw grandchildren when I looked at Justin or Mark.”

Chakotay looked down for a moment, then tugged at his earlobe a bit.  He looked at Gretchen a little shyly and asked, “Really?”

Gretchen grinned – this mature, solid man who had been to hell and back with *and* for her oldest daughter looked like such a little boy sometimes.

“Really.”

Chakotay actually blushed at that.  His smile lit up the Janeway home over the comm.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you talk with Kathryn about this?”

“I am sure,” Gretchen said emphatically.  “I don’t know what the immediate results will be – will she be upset, will she resent me, will she just accept it?  I don’t know.  But she’s going to need you to talk it through with her.  I want you there for her, for that.”

Chakotay nodded and said, “I will do as you ask.  I will make a suggestion, though.  I got to know Deanna Riker pretty well when I was on the Titan.  Would you consider talking to her about how to approach Kathryn?  I know how your daughter feels about counselors, but Deanna isn’t one of those typical psycho-babble types, she’s petty practical.  And she’s known loss.  When I was thinking about being the one to talk with Kathryn about Justin, I had decided to get some advice from Deanna.  I am happy to put you in touch with her.”

Gretchen considered this for a moment, then nodded.

“That’s not a bad idea.  Deanna Riker is good friends with Beverly Crusher, isn’t she?  Beverly and Kathryn spend a lot of time together, maybe there’s even a way to bring Counselor Riker into the group. Make her part of the ‘Love Council.’”

“The what?”

Gretchen grimaced and said, “Uh, you’ll have to ask my daughter about that.  Assuming the two of you are OK again.  Are you?”

“I think so,” Chakotay replied.  “At the very least, I am sure we are going to be.  We are getting together tomorrow afternoon.”

“Very good,” Gretchen said with a smile.  “I have gotten accustomed to having you around.”

“I understand,” Chakotay deadpanned.  “It’s almost time to plant the wisteria, who else can you rely on for that?”

“Just you, Chakotay.  Just you.”

Chapter Text

The next day, Chakotay arrived at Kathryn’s home at about 1:30.  He was early, yes.  But the afternoon was nice, so he just relaxed on one of the large chairs on her porch.  He pulled out her journal and used the time to go back over his favorite entries.

It was ten after 2:00 when Kathryn finally got home. 

"I am so sorry, I had the hardest time getting away," she said as she climbed the steps up to her porch.

"Meeting run late?" Chakotay asked amiably.

"Meeting?  Oh, no.  I wasn't about to let any meeting keep me from getting here," Kathryn said as she opened her front door to let them both in.  Chakotay picked up a large box sitting on the porch next to his chair and followed her inside.

"I ran into Chell,” Kathryn explained.  “He had just transported to Headquarters, apparently Owen Paris has recommended he be put on a working committee looking at food and nutrition strategies for long-term missions.  He's very excited about it and wanted to talk about his ideas.  He has many, many ideas."

Chakotay smiled and held up the book had had been reading when Kathryn arrived.  She recognized it as her journal.

"Is this in response to the new rations policy that you helped to approve?" Chakotay asked.

"What?  Oh, yes, I did write you about that, didn't I?  Yes, it is.  Owen and Tom were the ones who told me about the results of that policy, and I had a couple of follow-up conversations with both of them.  Owen told me Starfleet was going to revisit the question after getting so many comments, particularly from staff who had either been on Voyager or had similar experiences with strandings.  I suggested they involve Chell.  He wasn't in charge of our food for long, but he worked closely with Neelix on supplies, and he knows just as much about the challenges we faced with the need for both sufficient nutrition and variety."

Chakotay smiled and said, "That was an excellent idea, bringing Chell into it.  And I am sure he's thrilled, I am surprised you aren't still at Headquarters getting thanked."

Kathryn laughed and said, "I think I would be if Reg Barclay hadn't also transported in.  He's on that committee too, looking at ways to extend replicator life when energy reserves fall below critical levels.  I was only able to slip away when they started comparing notes on the molecular complexities of different starches - the classic potatoes versus rice debate, I guess."

"But now," she said with a deep breath as she turned towards Chakotay with her arms outstretched, "I am home and I want to apologize to you."

He walked to her and they embraced.  He leaned towards her ear and said softly, "I want to apologize, too."

They held each other for another few moments, then Kathryn leaned back to look at him and said, “How about we move to the couch?  Maybe we can just sit and talk?”

Chakotay kissed the tip of her nose and said, “That sounds perfect.”  Holding her hand, he followed Kathryn to the couch.  She motioned for him to sit at the end and, when he did, she bent to the floor to take off his shoes.  When they were off, she picked up his feet and put them on the couch, towards the other end.  Toeing off her own shoes, she sat down then stretched out next to him, her back to his chest.

Chakotay put an arm around her waist and bent his head to lightly kiss her neck.

Kathryn then noticed her journal sitting on the coffee table – she hadn’t seen him place it there.  She untangled herself from him long enough to reach over and grab it.

“Any questions about anything in here?” she asked Chakotay as she held it up for him.

“Plenty,” she heard him say with a smile.  “But I will start by saying I was pleased to see you had a hard time starting yours – it took me two days of looking at mine before I actually wrote anything.”

“What did I write about in the first entry, I can’t really recall,” Kathryn replied.  She started to open her journal, but Chakotay gently pulled it from her hand.

“Well, you wanted to if I was upset that B’Elanna didn’t want to sleep with me when she went through the Ponn Farr.”

Kathryn sat up and turned to look at Chakotay.

“Oh, I did ask you that, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Chakotay replied.  Then he grimaced and said, “And my answer is a resounding ‘no.’  B’Elanna is basically my baby sister.  It never crossed my mind to offer to help her with that.  Honestly, I don’t think I would have been able to.  She’s a beautiful woman, of course, but the way I see her … it would almost be like Sekaya.”

“Ugh,” Kathryn replied.  “Okay, that question is resolved, I won’t bring it up again.”

“Thank you.”

“What else did you see that was interesting?” she asked.

“Well, I would like to know what happened at your ‘girls’ night’ at B’Elanna’s.  You hinted that something noteworthy occurred.”

Kathryn bit her lip.  On the one hand, it would be extremely entertaining to see his face as she described what Seven said that night.  On the other hand, it would take them close to the self-consciousness that had been at the heart of her own behavior the other night.

Well, they needed to talk about it.  Might as well do it now.

“’Girls’ night’ started off with some silly stories about Harry and Libby, then there was wine, then I told everyone about all the romantic things you had done before you left.   Then Seven explained the rapid progression of the physical nature of your relationship with her.  She indicated that you had sex at least eighteen times, but things started falling apart when you asked her for a blow job.”

Kathryn looked at Chakotay and pressed her lips tightly together to keep from laughing.  There were absolutely no words for the look on his face.

“She … wait, Seven said … really?” Chakotay stammered in disbelief.

 “Yes, to all three,” Kathryn said with a huge grin on her face.  “In face, she thought that perhaps she was the reason you and I weren’t sleeping together, that perhaps sex with her had made you ‘question the utility of the activity.’ Or something to that effect.”

Chakotay’s eyes were closed and he had his thumb and middle finger massaging each side of his forehead.  He sighed.

“I can’t believe … wow, I’m sorry, Kathryn.  I am sure that was awkward.”

“It was,” she admitted, “but as I was reminded the other day, she doesn’t mean a thing by it.  She came to see me the morning after the cookout, so I know she talked with you about your sex life that night.”

“She did,” Chakotay nodded.  Then he got an odd look on his face and looked directly at Kathryn.

“Wait, is that what upset you that night?  That she wanted to discuss that with me?”

Kathryn shook her head and replied, “I didn’t know that’s what she wanted to talk with you about.  All I knew was that you had disappeared down a dark path way with this beautiful, shapely blonde who you had apparently enjoyed frequent and creative intercourse with, and … and I was jealous.  I am sorry, Chakotay.  I’m not proud of it.”

Chakotay sighed and said, “If I could undo my relationship with Seven, I would Kathryn.  But I can’t.  I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I think it’s more my problem than yours,” she replied. “Obviously, it affects you.  But it’s like what you said in your journal about insecurities.  I don’t question you, I question myself.”

“How are you questioning yourself?” Chakotay asked.

Kathryn was quiet for a moment.  Then she shrugged and said, “Thinking of you with Seven reminds me of my fear.  And being reminded of it means I have to think about it, which I don’t want to do.”

Chakotay looked at her with slightly narrowed eyes and said, “Nope, I’m still not sure what you mean.”

“I’m not sure I want to tell you,” Kathryn countered. 

“I this one of those things that seems worse if you admit it, like what you wrote about being afraid during the ion storm on New Earth?” Chakotay asked.

“I guess …,” Kathryn replied with uncertainty.  “But if the goal is for us to be totally honest with each other, then I should just tell you.  I should.”  She turned her body back towards him and looked him in the eye.

“I am … afraid … that one day you will realize that … you could have done so much better than me,” she said.  And she looked down, humiliated.

“I can’t believe I said that out loud,” she muttered.

Chakotay leaned forward.  Part of him wanted to laugh out loud – what the hell?  Better than Kathryn Janeway?  But he couldn’t laugh at her unease, that would be cruel.  And in reading her journal, he had sensed some real insecurities in her confessional writings.  

It occurred to him that she was sharing something deeply intimate with him, and he would treat that gift with the respect it deserved.  So he took her hand, held it to his heart, and responded to her. 

“Kathryn, I am tempted to argue with you, but I think it would be better to understand you.  What is out there in the universe that you think I might one day see as doing ‘better than’ you?”

She glanced at him again, her face red from embarrassment.

“I know the women you have been with, Chakotay.  I know the kind of women you can get.  I … am not those women.”

She looked at him for a response, but he just kept looking at her, waiting for more.

“I mean, I am not as … toned as I used to be.  Not as firm.  And … I have scars,” Kathryn stammered.  And she looked at the floor again.

Chakotay used his free hand to grasp her shoulder and pull him to her.  She did not relax into him, she laid stiffly against his chest.  They sat that way for a moment, Chakotay stroking her arm.

Finally, he began speaking.

“One of my butt cheeks sags,” he sighed.  “I don’t know if my hips are out of alignment or if all the sweets I eat all end up in that one place.  I noticed it starting about a year before we got home.  It’s about half an inch lower than the other one.”

Kathryn turned in his arms to look at him in confusion.

“What?”

"Yes, it's been driving me crazy.  I finally got Mike to measure it to see if I was seeing things.  I wasn't, there is an actual, quantifiable difference in the size and placement of my left butt cheek.  I had to swear Mike to secrecy."

“And, uh, well,” he said looking a little uncertain.  Then he took the hand of Kathryn's he still held at his heart and moved it to his belly-button.  He laid it flat on his lower stomach and, holding her wrist, used it to “jiggle” his flesh.

She looked from their hands on his gut back to his face.  She still looked bewildered but the beginnings of a smile were on her lips.

Looking down at his gut, Chakotay said regretfully, “And I’ve been exercising.  A lot.  I can’t get it to go completely away.”

Then he took her hand and pulled it to the back of his head, using his fingers to guide hers to a place on his scalp.  

Kathryn felt the spot on his scalp where he’s placed her fingers.  It felt strange.

“What is that?” she asked.  She stood up from the couch and moved to his side to get a better look at his head.

“That’s the scar left by one of those beautiful women I was ‘with,’ Riley Frazier.  When she and her friends operated on me,” Chakotay said. 

“My hair had started to go gray long before we ended up in the Delta Quadrant.  I had played with dyeing it before, thought it might help people take me more seriously as a ‘young rebel leader.’  Then after this surgery, the Doctor told me something about the repair those Borg did made all the hair growing around the scar turn gray, so I would have had this huge blob on the back of my head.  So I fully committed to dyeing my hair from that point on.”

Kathryn gave another close look to his hair then retook her seat on the couch.

“But you don’t dye your hair anymore, and there’s no … blob … back there.”

Chakotay grinned sheepishly and said, “Yeah, I, uh, got Starfleet to look at it.  They have some surprisingly high-tech barbering services available at Headquarters.  They genetically modified my hair follicles in that area to produce more natural graying.”

“So I guess you are telling me,” Kathryn replied with a shake of her head, “that it’s OK if I am old and undesirable because you are, too?”

“That is not what I am telling you,” he said, taking her hand again.  “Was any of that information a surprise to you?  Aside from the hair thing, was any of it new to you?  Have you every examined my ass to the point that you could identify the half-inch difference?  When I hug you, are you immediately struck by my belly fat?”

“No, I didn’t know it was there,” she responded.

“And now that you do, do you love me less?  Do you desire me less?” he asked.

Kathryn was startled to see something familiar in his eyes, for just a split second.  Doubt.  Not in her, in himself.  She saw, for the first time, the same fear in him that she felt when she had looked in the mirror all those weeks ago after Seven’s girls’ night telling of her sex life with Chakotay.

“He’s as afraid as I am,” she thought to herself.  Then she said it out loud.

“You are as afraid as I am of not looking good naked,” she said in some wonder.

Chakotay took a deep breath.

“Yeah, I guess,” he replied.  Now he sounded humiliated.

“I know there has always been this additional pressure placed on women to live up to some sort of artificial ideal,” he said, “but I feel it, too.  Most men do.  My question is still this, do you desire me less knowing about my imperfections?  And by the way, those three are not the only ones, I promise you, there are many, many more to discover.”

“No, they don’t matter to me, Chakotay,” Kathryn replied.  “I don’t see those things, I see you.”

“Can you allow for the possibility that I see you, too?” he asked.

Kathryn looked down again.  She had been so deep in her own insecurities that it hadn’t occurred to her the assumptions she made about his character were actually pretty insulting.

But she still needed to be honest.

“I can allow for that, Chakotay,” she said slowly.  “But I also can’t forget that you have been with perfection.  You have made love to a perfect body.  Apparently quite enthusiastically and often.  I would be lying to you if I said that wasn’t on my mind a lot.”

Chakotay sat in silence for a while.  Finally, he rubbed his face with his hands and groaned.

“I can’t believe I am going to tell you this, I swore I never would tell anyone,” he muttered.  Then he looked directly at Kathryn and said, “Seven was awful in bed.  Awful.”

“What?” Kathryn asked in disbelief.

“You have to promise me you will never tell her this,” he responded.  “Sex with Seven was basically what you would think sex with a Borg would be.  Ordered.  Specific.  Timed.”

“She *timed* you?”  Kathryn asked with wide eyes.

“She couldn’t help it, she’s got that damned chronometer in one of her implants,” Chakotay replied.  “When it was time for foreplay to be done, it was done.  When it was time for intercourse, it was time.  There was no spontaneity, no joy in it.”

Kathryn was amazed and bewildered.

“She said you were so enthusiastic each time you were together,” she marveled.

Chakotay shrugged and said, “I felt like I had to be.  I knew this was a major part of her emotional awakening, I was afraid if I wasn’t careful and positive, I could damager her self-image.  And while Seven has no insecurities about her physical form, it became apparent that she was riddled with other insecurities.  I think she hated herself a little bit each time she felt something wasn’t perfect.  So I tried to be as positive as I could about our sex life, despite the fact it wasn’t what I wanted.”

“I was living out a sex fantasy, and trying so hard to make it love.  That whole thing was never going to be anything other than a failure,” he said as he shook his head ruefully.

Kathryn leaned back against the couch with her heard turned to him and said softly, “You really were trying to resolve your feelings about Betta Turner with Seven.”

“Sure seems that way,” he replied.  Then he pulled Kathryn’s hand to his lips and kissed it.

“Kathryn, your body isn’t perfect.  Neither is mine.  Nothing about either one of us is perfect.  But everything about the two of us together is *right*.  That’s the wonderful thing, the rightness of us.”

Kathryn leaned back into his chest, relaxed this time.

She smiled and said, “Seven told me that you told her that I make you feel like you can be yourself without being judged for it.  And that I make the sky bluer.  That true?

“Is it true that I said it, or is it true?” Chakotay asked with a grin.  Before Kathryn could react, he leaned to her ear and whispered, “Yes, I said it, and yes, it’s true.  It’s how you make me feel.  I want to make you to feel the same.”

“You do,” Kathryn sighed.  “My insecurities are my problem, I don’t want them to become *our* problem.”

“We both have our own unique, besetting faults,” he replied.  “Maybe the best gift we can give each other is patience to deal with them.”

“It’s a deal,” Kathryn replied as she sat up to give him a soft kiss.  “But I also have a couple of actual gifts for you.  Want to see them?”

Chakotay’s dimples appeared, and he nodded and said, “I have a gift for you, too.”

Chapter Text

Kathryn had gone to get something from her third-floor study, while Chakotay contemplated opening the large box he’d brought.  He decided to wait, wanting to give Kathryn’s gift to him the attention it deserved.

At the same time, Kathryn was coming down her stairs slowly.  She’d had no doubts about this part of her gift when she’d arranged for it – but she had doubts now.  She stopped on the stairs for a moment, then shook off her concerns.  She knew Chakotay.  She knew what was important to him.  This was something important, both difficult and beautiful, and she felt blessed to be able to give it to him.  She started back down her stairs with confidence.

Kathryn sat next to Chakotay holding a padd.  "There are two parts of my gift.  They are both personal to you, but one is a bit more personal to me.  That might not make any sense right this second."

He continued to look at her, so she held the padd up a bit more to direct his attention.

"I was talking with Beverly and Jean Luc one day, and the subject of Dorvan came up."

Chakotay’s face changed - that look he got sometimes, something between sadness and wariness, appeared.  So Kathryn put a comforting hand on his.

"We discussed that mission, yes.  You said you talked with Will Riker about it, and I think you would find it helpful to talk with Jean Luc, also.  But that's not what this is.  When we were talking, Beverly remembered that the Enterprise crew had done a pretty extensive survey of the Dorvan settlements.  She and Jean Luc did some checking and the found a lot of images."

"Images? Of Dorvan?  Before the destruction?" Chakotay asked in surprise.

"Yes," Kathryn affirmed.  And she handed him the padd.

He took if from her gently.  He looked at it in disbelief.

"I asked Starfleet after the attack if there were any photos, they said there weren't any."

"At that time, they were still classified,” Kathryn replied.  “Just about everything about the border colonies and the Cardassians was.  But things are different now, and Jean Luc was able to get the images his crew recorded.  They are all on this padd."

Chakotay continued to look at the darkened padd.  He almost looked frightened.  

Kathryn said, "I want you to know, I let Sekaya look through these.  It didn't seem right to not let her.  And she helped me organize them."

Kathryn reached over to activate the padd, causing Chakotay to jump.  

"It's OK, Chakotay," she said softly.  "You don't need to worry about seeing something too hard, not just yet.  Your sister is the one who suggested we organize them.  We have them in different files."

Kathryn pointed to the padd and showed Chakotay the file organization.  There were categories in the directory:  People, Structures, Events, Landscapes, and a last one called "No." 

"Sekaya and I looked through thousands of images.  I did some of the general organization, but she provided context for many of them.  And while we made a decision not to destroy any of them, we did place some of them in that file Sekaya called ‘No.’  The pictures there are ones that we thought might be too hard to see, at least in the short term.  It's mainly pictures of Cardassians on Dorvan - there was already a contingent of them stationed there when the Enterprise arrived.  If you ever want to look at them, they are there.  The file is protected, you will have to get the access code from either me or your sister, we don't want you to accidentally see them if you aren't ready.  But everything else should be fine."

Kathryn pointed to an audio file in the top corner of the padd.

"Sekaya recorded some comments for you as she was going through some of the images.  I haven't listened to them.  And I think you should listen to them on your own, the first time anyway.  I know how deep this pain is for you, Chakotay.  I do not want to intrude.  When you are ready to walk me through Dorvan this way, I will be ready to join you.  But please take time to be sure you *are* ready, first.  I can wait."

Chakotay looked at Kathryn.  His eyes were filled with love and fear, in equal measure.

"I … you know it's not that I don't want to go through all of this with you, Kathryn, I just …."  He didn't seem to know what to say next.

Kathryn reached over and ran her forefinger lightly over his tattoo.

"I understand.  You need to prepare yourself to talk with me about it.  I really do understand.  I know you will tell me more of your stories, with those images as illustrations, when you are ready.  I'm not going anywhere, Chakotay."

Chakotay thought his heart might jump out of his chest.  He was overwhelmed by this woman, her generosity towards him was stunning.

A lightening bolt of thought fired in his mind - knowledge of the pain she would soon endure reliving her father's death.  He silently pledged to her that he would do all possibly could to give her as much as she was giving him.

Clearing his throat, he simply said, "Thank you."

She smiled one of her widest smiles in return.

"You said this gift had two parts, one being more personal to you?" he stated.

"Yes," she replied.  She was still smiling but she looked a little uncertain, a little shy.  She looked down at where her hand still clasped his and shrugged a bit.

"I, uh ...," she said.  Then she looked back up at him and continued, "I decided to try and be a little creative.  A little artistic."

He smiled at her.  Kathryn had one of the most creative minds of anyone he knew.  But he also knew that she could be extremely self-conscious about what she actually created.  She would never let him see the work she did with the DaVinci hologram on Voyager.  He had never been able to get her to try sand-painting.  

But she apparently had decided to try something for him.  

She continued, "Dr. Love wrote about how important gift giving is in courtship.  And he talked a lot about handmade gifts.  I thought I might try something."

"Can I see the result?" he asked.

She nodded and stood up, offering him her hand.  He took it and stood, and he followed her to her dining room.  There was an easel in the corner, with something on it covered by a cloth.  Kathryn led him to stand in front of it.

"Phoebe led some classes for a few people in San Francisco a few weeks ago, and I went," Kathryn said as she looked at the cloth.  "It's … I am not sure if it's any good.  I guess that's your call."

They both stood for a moment looking at the cloth-covered easel.

"Kathryn?"

"Yes?"

"Can I see it?

"Oh, yes, sorry."  And Kathryh removed the cloth.

It took Chakotay a few seconds to understand what he was looking at.  At first, it was colors.  Then he saw shapes.  Then he began to see things he recognized.

He saw a window in a stucco building with a shutter like they used on Dorvan.  The sand-painting he’d kept in his quarters on Voyager.  The fabric that covered the cushion on the porch swing at Gretchen’s house.  The hull of the Val Jean.  The branch of a tree with small red flowers that he hadn't thought of in years.

These were prints of holoimages taken of the objects in question.  But in the midst were additional colors added by a hand with a delicate touch, colors that moved around the images and among them, swirling all over the canvas.  Framing the images, connecting them.  Fields of stars, clouds of nebulae.  

Familiar sights in an unfamiliar form.

When he turned to meet her eyes, her face was pink and she looked uncertain.

"It's mixed media," she finally said.  "It's something Phoebe was teaching.  You use an actual image you have captured and you use paint to add emotion to it, to give it context beyond what can't be seen outside the borders of the image."

She pointed to the image of the window with the shutter.

"That's how it started.  This was one of the first images I saw from the Dorvan collection Jean Luc provided.  I remember you telling me long ago about how everyone on Dorvan had the same shutters on their homes, and how when you were a child, the noise of the shutters banging used to annoy you.  But then, after the settlements were destroyed, how much you would have loved to see and hear them again.  The minute I saw this image, it reminded me of that story."

She took a breath and continued.

"I saw that shutter and the word 'home' came to mind.  Not mine, but yours.  And I remembered how much it upset you to think you didn't have any home to show me.  But there it is, Chakotay," she said, pointing to the shutter.  "And there it is," she continued as she pointed at the grainy image of the Val Jean.  "And here and here and here," and she pointed at the images of his quarters on Voyager, and small blue and green half-circle he hadn't noticed before but now recognized as the famous "earthrise" picture taken hundreds of years before by Apollo astronauts on the moon, and at the cushion on the swing at Kathryn’s childhood home.

"And, of course, here," she added as she pointed to the tree branch with the red buds.  A tree had only ever seen once before, on New Earth.

She swept her hand across the entirety of the canvas and said, "All of these places are your home, whether or not you can return.  And they are all connected by you, and by the stars."  The pinpoints of light and the gas clouds of space did connect the images – ribbons of stars tying together the places of his life.

He stared at the canvas.  It was a remarkable creation, truly.  There were no clear boundaries between the captured images and the colors Kathryn had applied with a brush.  Chakotay was not a lazy critic of aesthetic beauty, and he knew anyone who looked at this work would find it as lovely as they would intriguing.

But the real beauty was in what it was - what it said about Kathryn Janeway’s understanding of him, his desire for home.  She was showing him all the homes he had found and enjoyed over the years.  And by including that image of the porch swing, she was welcoming him to her home.

"Oh, I almost forgot," she said suddenly, and she reached behind the door.  It was another canvas with some star fields lightly sketched, and light amounts of color applied.

She held it up and said, "This is for the homes to come."

Chakotay took the second canvas and looked at it, then looked at Kathryn.

"You should just paint yourself on this one," he said.  "You have led me home in every way possible.  You are home."

She smiled and asked, "You like it?"

He set the second canvas down on her dining table and pulled her to him.  He held her to himself tightly.  It was an embrace full of love, even adoration.  After several seconds like that, he turned them towards the work on the easel and grabbed her left hand with his right, pulling it towards the canvas.  He guided her hand with his, moving from image to image.

"It's my life, Kathryn, presented in the most amazing way.  I have never seen my history as a thing of beauty.  But that's how you have painted it.  It's the most incredible thing I have ever seen."

He turned to face her and took both of her hands in his, bringing them to his lips.  He closed his eyes and kissed her fingers, his lips lingering.

"Thank you so much, my Kathryn" he breathed.

They stood like that a little while longer, swaying a bit, as though they both heard music.  Finally, Chakotay said, "It's killing you not to ask me about that box I brought, isn't it?"

She chuckled and said, "A little bit." 

He kissed her forehead and said, "Come on, then, I have something to share with you."

They headed back into her living room.  As he walked over to the large front windows and began lowering the blinds, he said, "Why don't you get us some wine?  Didn't I see a Picard Vineyards cabernet in there the other day?"

"You did, good eye," Kathryn replied as she went to her kitchen.  She returned with two glasses and a bottle, one of the several Beverly had sent to her the previous week.  The living room was now mostly dark, all the lights turned off except a lamp next to the couch.  

Chakotay had set a large box on her coffee table, one with a clear surface and a currently powered-off light source inside.  Next to the box were several thin sheets of wood.

"Oh, is this the shadow casting like Imafo showed you?" Kathryn asked as she poured the wine.  "I loved reading about that in your journal, it sounds fascinating."

Chakotay looked pleased that she so easily identified the materials he had pulled out.  He placed one of the wooden sheets on the top of the box.

"Come, sit with me," he said as he patted the spot next to him on the couch.  Kathryn took a seat next to him and handed him a glass.  He reached to turn off the lamp next to the couch and told her, "Now look up at the ceiling."  He pressed a button on the small control device in his hand and the light in the box came on.  Brightness shone through the tiny, tiny cuts in the wood and reached the ceiling above.

"Oh, Chakotay," Kathryn said as she stared upward.  She set her wine glass down on the side table and sat up to look at the box.  She looked again at her ceiling.

"Oh, Chakotay," she said again as she lifted her hand to her mouth.  She looked at him with shining eyes, shining all the more from the tiny bits of light cast around the room.

"Is that …" she started to ask before going silent and looking up again.

"It is," he replied simply

Six years earlier ….

Chakotay was sitting against a fallen log looking up.  Kathryn walked out of their shelter to join him.

"Would you like some water?" she asked, handing him a container.

"Yes, thank you," he replied accepting the small metal cylinder.  He unscrewed the top and took a sip, still staring at the sky.

Kathryn took a seat near him and also looked up

"Looking for anything in particular?" she asked

"No," he said absently.  "Just looking."

They both continued looking silently at the sky for a while.  Eventually, Chakotay sighed and said, "They're wrong."

Kathryn looked at him and asked, "What do you mean?"

Chakotay shrugged and replied, "They're wrong.  They are the wrong stars.  They aren't our stars."

He turned to look at her and said, "I know you think I don't want to go home as much as you, that I don't miss Voyager as much as you.  I am trying to make something good of this situation we find ourselves in, Kathryn.  As good as it can be."

Then he looked back up at the sky and said, "But when I look up, and they aren't our stars …," and his voice trailed off.

She watched him for a minute, then got up.  She placed her hand on his shoulder and said, "I know," and went back inside.

A couple of nights later, Kathryn came back into the shelter after her bath.  Chakotay was at his desk, sketching.

"What are you drawing?" Kathryn asked.

"Nothing important," he replied, "how was your bath?"

"Magnificent," she said as she leaned over to look at the paper in front of him.  It appeared to be a rough sketch of the night sky, the view from just outside of their shelter.  Along the edges of the paper he had drawn what appeared to be leaves.  In the middle were the patterns of stars that had begun to be familiar to them.  

But it was more than just the stars, there were shapes.

"What is that," Kathryn asked, pointing to one of the shapes.

"Eh," he responded, pulling at his earlobe.  "Well, I was looking at the stars tonight and it occurred to me one of the reasons I don't think I like them is that I don't see anything in them.  Back home, we had constellations.  The Big Dipper, Pieces, etc.  Even on Dorvan, we saw some of the same star arrangements, though there were others we named differently."

He looked up at Kathryn and said, "I thought it might be nice to give our stars some names."

"And this one is?" she asked, pointing at the same shape again.

"It's a starfish.  Specifically, a Pointed Sand Star from the Gulf of Mexico," he replied as he traced the stars he had used to define the shape.

Kathryn picked up the paper and looked closely at the sketch.

"The Starfish constellation?  That's a little on the nose, don't you think?" she said.

Chakotay shrugged and said, "It's what I see."  Then seeing the doubt on her face, he deflated a bit and said, "You think I've lost my mind, don't you."

She set the picture back down and replied, "I've spent this evening enjoying a wonderful, relaxing bath thanks to you.  I am not going to judge how you choose to see things here.  That said, I can tell you I watched those stars tonight from my bath, and I didn't see anything that reminded me of the Gulf of Mexico up there."

He nodded and she turned to walk back to her sleeping area.

Then her heard her call out, "That particular collection of stars is clearly a plumeria blossom, Commander.  I can't imagine how you don't see it."

Chakotay smiled and went back to his drawing.

A couple of weeks later, both of them laid on the grass near their shelter looking at the night sky.  There was space between them, but less than there would have been when they first arrived.

“So we have identified seven constellations,” Kathryn said, “and we have agreed on the names for four of them.”

“Yes,” Chakotay replied.  He pointed to a group of stars in to their north and said, “That one is ‘Vulcan’s Ear.’”

“Because the three stars at the top form a point that reminds us both of tips of Tuvok’s ears,” Kathryn added.

“Yes,” Chakotay agreed.  Then he pointed to several stars to the east of the first constellation and said, “And that one is …”

“… the ‘Dog’s Paw,’” Kathryn finished.

Chakotay nodded and said “Further to our south, one of the most important star groups is the constellation …,” and his voice trailed off to allow Kathryn to state that constellation name.

“The Constellation of Phoebe,” she replied with a smile.  They had chosen the name of Kathryn's sister because they both could see the capitol letter “P” in the pattern, and neither one of them relished calling that constellation “Paris.”

“And the fourth and final constellation name agreed upon is,” Kathryn continued, pointing to a star group that hovered close to the western horizon.

“The Stone of Turquoise,” Chakotay finished.  Kathryn hadn’t been able to see anything in those stars, but Chakotay had thought he saw an irregular shape reminiscent of a piece of turquoise in a favorite necklace of his mother’s.

Kathryn nodded as she continued looking at the night sky.

“So we only have to come up with names for that one, and that one,” she said, pointing at two star groupings hovering between the Stone of Turquoise and Vulcan’s Ear.

“We do,” Chakotay agreed.  Then he rolled over a bit to look at Kathryn and said in a teasing tone, “And you have to just give up and accept that the last one is the Sand Starfish.”

She rolled her eyes in response and said, “I am not going to support using the word ‘star’ in the name of a constellation.  And as I have told you repeatedly, it looks like a plumeria blossom.”

“It looks *nothing* like a flower, Kathryn!”

“Well, it doesn’t look anything like a fish, Chakotay!”

“A star fish isn’t a fish.”

“Then why do you call it a fish?  If it’s not a fish, then why use the word at all?  Because then all you are left with is just the word ‘star.’  And we will not be calling that ‘the Star Constellation,’ Commander.”

He glanced sideways at her.  She was trying so hard to sound like his Captain, but he could see her fighting a smile.  

Fighting his own smile, he replied, “I guess we’ll table that discussion yet again.  That just leaves the two remaining.”

Kathryn looked at him and laughed.

“We’ll get to those later in the week.”

The next day, they got the hail from Tuvok.

In Kathryn’s living room, the Constellations of New Earth were shining on her ceiling.  Not just shining, they sparkled.  Something in the light box gave movement to the light, which created the same sparkling effect one would see on stars viewed through an active atmosphere.

As she looked at each constellation in its turn, Kathryn was thrown by the feeling she had.  She didn’t realize she had missed those stars.  Yet she felt like she was seeing old friends for the first time in ages.

As Chakotay looked at her, he saw wonder and love on her face.  With a start, he realized that New Earth truly had meant as much to her as it had him.  He had hoped it had, but never knew.  Now he did.

Kathryn turned to look at him with tears in her eyes.  She whispered, “You remember it as I do.”

Chakotay took her hand and pulled her back towards him.  They stretched out on the couch looking at the ceiling.  He leaned over to kiss her hair and said, “Whenever we would star gaze on New Earth, I wanted to hold you like this.  When Imafo showed me his shadow casting, I thought it would be my chance to finally gaze at our constellations while having my arms tight around you.”

He chuckled a bit and said, “So I guess this is a gift to myself as much as to you.”

Kathryn, her voice full of emotion, said, “I really want to kiss you right now, but that would require taking my eyes off our stars.”

Chakotay responded by holding her closer.

After a while, Kathryn said, “Phoebe is going to be thrilled to see this, I told her we named a constellation after her.”

“She does know that it was just you and me, right?  There was no Delta Quadrant authority with whom we registered the name,” Chakotay replied.

Kathryn waved a hand to dismiss the concern and said, “She’ll live.”  Then, her eyes narrowing, she added, “It might be a bigger issue convincing her that the letter ‘P’ is there.  When I say she and I don’t see things the same way, I mean it literally.”

“That actually reminds me of something,” Chakotay said.  He untangled himself from Kathryn and sat up to reach the lightbox.  Kathryn saw him dim the light and remove the thin sheet of wood. He picked up a stack of similar pieces and looked through them until he found a particular one.  He placed that one on the box and turned the light back up.

Kathryn’s ceiling now displayed a “close up” of the arrangement of stars they had named Phoebe.  The individuals points of light were larger.  But Chakotay had also placed tiny, tiny cuts in the wood, like dotted lines, that connected the stars.  Those connections formed an obvious letter “P.”

Kathryn gasped in delight.

“Oh, you found a way to show the patterns we saw!”

“I think so,” Chakotay said, looking up.  “I am sure there are differences in what you and I saw, so I tried to keep the shapes basic.  But I think anyone can understand what we thought we saw.”

He removed the sheet containing the Constellation of Phoebe and showed Kathryn the “close ups” of The Dog’s Paw and Vulcan’s Ear.  Then he pulled out a sheet of wood, looked at it to see which one it was, and then looked at Kathryn.

He smiled and said, “This is the most important one.”  Then he placed it on the light box.

Shining on Kathryn’s ceiling was the shape of a perfectly-formed plumeria blossom.

She turned to look at him, a smile and disbelief both on her face.

Chakotay shrugged a little and said, “Dr. Love says young men were expected to bring flowers to their steady girlfriends once in a while.”  Then he winked at her.

Kathryn started giggling, actually giggling – a silly, girlish giggle that made Chakotay’s toes curl.  She covered her face with her hands to get control again, but when she looked at him again, she was still somewhat overcome with giddiness.

“You wonderful, amazing man,” she said as she placed a hand on his cheek.  “My handsome man. That may be the sweetest thing I have ever heard of anyone doing.”  Then she looked back up at the constellation in her living room.

After a minute, she took a deep breath and said, “You know, whenever we would star gaze, I sometimes would imagine you asking me to dance.  For some reason, I really, really wanted to dance with you under our stars.”

Kathryn stood up, held a hand out to Chakotay and asked, “Dance with me?”

Chakotay took her hand, kissed it softly, and stood.

“Absolutely.”

They moved to a slightly more open space in her living room, which also was near the place on the ceiling where the Plumeria Constellation shone.  They embraced, with Kathryn’s hands on his shoulders and her head against his chest, and Chakotay’s hands on her waist.  They began to sway to unheard music.

Eventually, Chakotay began quietly humming.

He had been doing so for a minute or two when Kathryn stopped moving and looked up at him.

“What is that song?”

“Well,” Chakotay replied softly, “I listened to the music you sent with me on the ‘mix tape,’ and I heard several songs I liked.  There was one I really liked, though.  I’ve been humming and singing it a lot.  I even thought about mentioning it to you as a possibility for ‘our song,’ but I wasn’t sure if you even remembered all of that.”

She stared at him a few more second and then said, “Hum it again.”

So he did.

Eventually, Kathryn started smiling again.  She slowly pulled him towards her comm system, then held a finger to her lips instructing him to be silent

“Computer,” she said, “play ‘Our Song.’”

A piano, with light percussion in the background, started playing.  

Chakotay was stunned.

“Are you serious?” he asked.

Laughing a little, she replied, “Apparently.”

A man’s voice started singing, his words expressed in the tune Chakotay had just been humming.

Wise men say
Only fools rush in
But I can’t help falling in love with you

Shall I stay
Would it be a sin
If I can’t help falling in love with you

Kathryn and Chakotay embraced and began swaying once again.

“Didn’t we say something about how we might end up picking the same song?” Chakotay whispered.

“Well,” Kathryn whispered back, “the song says that some things are meant to be.”

Take my hand
Take my whole life too
For I can’t help falling in love with you

Chapter Text

Kathryn and Chakotay danced to “their song” – and then again.  After Kathryn ordered the computer to play it the fifth time, Chakotay whispered in her ear, “Put it on repeat,” and then began lightly sucking her ear lobe.

“Computer, put ‘Our Song’ on continuous repeat,” she breathed out.

“State the duration,” the computer annoyingly responded.

“For … ahh … mmmpfh,” Kathryn replied.  Whatever she was going to say was impossible to understand now that Chakotay had moved his lips to hers.

“Affirmative,” the computer replied.

“Indeed,” Chakotay thought to himself as he picked Kathryn up and walked them to the couch.

He turned and sat down, holding her in his lap, continuing to kiss her deeply.  She turned to face him, ran her hands over his shoulders and then up his neck to the back of his head.  She couldn’t help but move her fingers to the scar he had shown her earlier.

He felt her smile against his lips, and he slowed his own kisses to let her know he’d noticed.

“So, when I touch this scar,” Kathryn asked slowly, in a voice that made Chakotay think of a fine, smoky, Kentucky bourbon, “does it make you think about Riley Frazier?”

He leaned back and gave her a look that was both disbelieving and fiery.

“Nooooooo, it doesn’t,” he replied equally slowly, forming each word in such a way that made his full lips even a little more prominent.  He wasn’t stupid – he’d been told many times his lips were as dangerous as his dimples.  With Kathryn, he was committed to using every weapon at his disposal.

Kathryn also wasn’t stupid.  She smiled a lazy half-smile and cocked a single eyebrow upwards. 

“Are you sure?” she asked, lowering her fingers to lightly scratch the back of his neck, and lowering her voice about half an octave to scratch … his imagination.

“You want to know who I think of when you touch me?” Chakotay asked.  Then he grasped her shoulders, turned her, and guided her to lay back on the couch, her legs laying across his lap.  He took the hand, the one that had been on his neck seconds before, and kissed each knuckle.  Then he turned it over and began kissing her wrist.

Watching him kiss her wrist had a completely unexpected effect on Kathryn.  Despite the fact Chakotay had told her the night he got home that he could spend an entire hour kissing her wrist, she hadn’t given it much thought.  But … ohhhh.  The look on his face.

The pressure on her wrist was creating a strange wave of happiness in her.  And Kathryn wasn’t sure, but it was possible the nerves in the wrist had a direct connection to nerves in … other places.  The noise she made in response was a combination gasp/moan/sigh.

Chakotay thought it was the most incredible sound he's ever heard. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, but, … damn.

He let go of her wrist and bolted forward to kiss her properly again.  His weight was on her, and she loved it.  She was soft and yielding under him, and he loved it.

Had it been any other time or situation, or any other people, the next few hours would have followed a pretty basic script.  But this was now, it was Chakotay and Kathryn, and they were going steady.  And it almost seemed as though both of them remembered it at the same moment.

Their kisses slowed, became more reassuring than passionate.  Eventually, Chakotay laid his head on her chest while she stroked his hair.

They were silent for a moment, then Kathryn said, “I know why you want us to wait, Chakotay.  I mean, I understand.”

He tilted his head up a bit to look at her and asked, “You do?”

Kathryn nodded and said, “You are upset that you didn’t wait for me before.  You want to show me that you can wait.  Isn’t that it?”

Chakotay looked down a bit – nope, that's where her breasts were, must look someplace else.  Chakotay looked at the coffee table, then back at Kathryn.

“I failed you before – I failed both of us,” he replied with a sigh.  “I need to show you that you mean enough to me to wait.  I need to show myself that I can wait, that I can be more than a man who loses hope, gives up, and hops into bed with someone else.”

Then he added, mainly to himself, “I need to prove I can be the kind of man you deserve, the kind of man you want.”

That gave Kathryn pause.

“The kind of man I … huh?”

Chakotay looked at her for a minute then shook his head.

“I guess if you had to face your insecurities, I have to face mine.”  And he sat back upright on the couch, keeping Kathryn’s legs across his lap, with one of his hands resting on her knee.

“You did mention something about insecurities in your journal,” Kathryn responded.  She narrowed her eyes and looked away as though trying to remember something, then said, “Yeah, it was something about wanting to be a prince I could deserve, and ….”

Then she looked back at him and said evenly, “And you called me a ‘Starfleet Princess.’”

Chakotay chuckled a little and said, “I got that term from Will Riker, he started it.”

Kathryn rolled her eyes and replied, “That figures.  Yeah, I think I might have heard that term once or twice at the Academy.”

“Why did you pick it up,” she asked him curiously.

Chakotay looked at his hand on her knee.  

“It’s nothing you’ve said or done, Kathryn,” he finally said.  “I just … I look at you and I think about who you are.  The life you were born into and led.  The Janeway name is royalty in Starfleet.  My name is … well, it’s nothing.  Anyone could look at us and see the mismatch.”

Kathryn listened to him with her heart breaking a little.  She didn’t see him as “nothing,” and she knew he knew that.  But she also knew there were some real jerks out there who would react just as he was describing.  Alynna Nechayev, for example, and her … wait.

“Chakotay, does this have anything to do with Erick Geene?  Did he say something to you the other night?  Is that part of why *you* got so upset at the cookout?” Kathryn asked.

“It’s not Greene directly,” Chakotay responded, “but more what he represents.  The fine, upstanding, pedigreed Starfleet officer.  The kind of man you were meant to be with.”

That last part surprised Kathryn the most.

“You think I should be with Erick Greene?” she asked in disbelief.  And not just a little disgust.

Chakotay shook his head emphatically and said, “No, I really would prefer you not.  But I would be lying if I didn’t ….”

And his voice trailed off.

“If you didn’t …” Kathryn prompted.

“If I didn’t admit sometimes thinking you would be better off with someone more ‘Starfleet,’ and less “traitorous former terrorist,” he replied with difficulty.  And he appeared to sink back into the cushions of the couch, slouching.

Kathryn regarded his deflated form. 

“Is that really how you see yourself, Chakotay?  As a traitor?  A terrorist?” she asked softly.

“A little, yeah,” he replied listlessly.  “I know it’s how Starfleet sees me.”

“I want to talk about how you see yourself,” Kathryn replied.  “Your insecurities don’t go with the facts.  You weren’t a traitor, you resigned your commission.  You weren’t a terrorist, you never fired on Federation ships unless you were fired on first.  And even then you never fired to injure or kill, you fired to escape further confrontation with your friends and former colleagues.  The facts and your feelings are at odds with each other.  So where do the feelings come from?”

Chakotay looked at Kathryn.  Her eyes were full of love and compassion.  Most of all, they were focused totally and completely on him.  

Had he ever felt close to another person, ever?  

“I am ashamed of myself, Kathryn,” he finally said.  “I quit people.  I let them down.  I am afraid I will let you down.  I am afraid I will cause you pain because that’s who I am, a person who causes pain.  I am afraid you will figure that out about me before I find it in myself to change, and you will leave.”

Then he trembled.  He couldn’t help it.

“I quit my family and they died.  I quit Starfleet after pledging my loyalty to them, and they declared me their enemy.  I effectively quit the Maquis when we ended up in the Delta Quadrant.  What happened to them?  Most of the ones on the Val Jean ended up dead, as well as the ones left behind in the Alpha Quadrant.  I … I quit you, Kathryn.  I decided waiting was too hard, so I decided to quit waiting.  And I hurt you, the person I love most in the world.  Then you almost died.”

He looked up at the ceiling, towards the projected constellation.  His eyes shone with tears ready to fall.

“I don’t know if it follows facts, or if it make sense.  That progression of events seem to define who I am.  A failure.  Unworthy.  Unworthy of you.”

Kathryn felt her own tears coming, her heart aching for him.  She heard what he was saying, and she could understand it – how many times had she allowed the same kind of illogic to control her own self-image?

In some ways, they were the same person.  They both had been wounded, and those wounds had festered.  They each had dark spots on their souls.

“Chakotay,” she said, sitting up and drawing nearer to him, “everything you are saying, oh, it’s so familiar.  I think some of us come into the world so prepared to forgive every failing in the ones we love, yet we leave no forgiveness for ourselves.  I cannot argue with what you said because it can’t be argued.  You and I both can find ways to think the worst of ourselves.  All I can do is tell you what I see in you and hope it makes an impact.”

She took a deep breath and continued, looking into his eyes and lightly tracing his tattoo and his jawline.

“I see a brave boy who had the strength to honor the path he was intended to take, the one that took him to the stars and eventually to me, when his father didn’t yet understand.  I see a young man who lost his precious family, and then sacrificed his immediate professional success with dignity and honor when called to defend the defenseless against a powerful and violent enemy.  I see a brave and creative leader who did what he had to do for his people when he and they ended up stranded far from friends and home, a man who set aside his own pride for the good of those he led.  I see an honorable man who mourned the loss of friends and colleagues who he could not help from thousands of light years away, and who held the hands of others who suffered those same losses.”

Kathryn wiped a tear that had slipped from one of his eyes, then the placed her hand on his chest, a gesture both found comforting in its familiarity.

“Most of all, I see a man who loved me, who loves me still.  When I both encouraged it and discouraged it, and despite the fact I told him ‘no.’  I see a man who stayed loyal to me as his captain, even when I didn’t deserve it.  I see a man who devoted himself to me, despite my indecision.  And when this man I see finally decided to accept affection offered to him by someone else, he forgave me when I reacted badly to it.  I see a man who has helped me recover from injury to both my body and my soul.  I am thankful for you, Chakotay.”

She moved her hand to his cheek, and he tilted his head to lean into it.

“I love you, Chakotay.  Just like you see me, I see you.  And I love you.”

She leaned forward and placed a soft, lingering kiss on his lips.  He pulled her closer to him, now she was sitting in his lap.  Her forehead pressed against his.

Finally he said, “We make quite a pair, don’t we?”

Kathryn laughed and nodded.

“That’s another thing, my handsome man.  You make me laugh.  Thank you for that!”

Chakotay smiled widely and said, “You make me laugh.  No one has ever made me laugh as much as you.”

“You are right, though,” Kathryn said, “we are a pair.  A pair of what, exactly, I guess we’ll see.  But it’s going to be wonderful finding out.”

He pulled her even closer, and she laid her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t know if I will ever see myself as you see me, Kathryn,” he admitted.  “But that might be okay.  Maybe I need to just trust you when I don’t trust myself.”

“That makes sense.  And,” Kathryn said with a smile, “it’s not like I have ever been shy about telling you when you are wrong.  You eventually come around.”  And she raised her hand to the ceiling, towards the Plumeria Blossom Constellation, for evidence.

He chuckled and shook his head.

“Okay, we will help each other with our insecurities.  I’ll believe you when you say I am a good man, and you believe me when I say you are the sexiest, most desirable woman who ever lived.”

“Well,” Kathryn replied in her Kentucky bourbon voice, “when this whole ‘going steady’ phase is over, you are going to have to work very, very hard, over and over, in multiple ways and in multiple places, with great imagination and flexibility, to convince me.  And I think I am going to require a lot of convincing.”

Chakotay was silent for a moment, then he groaned in exasperation, “Kathryn ….”

She sighed and said, “I know, sorry.”

They sat there for another minute, their song still playing in the background.  Then Chakotay said, “I have an idea.”

“Yes?” Kathryn responded.

“How about we take the couch cushions and put them on the floor, and you go find some pillows and a blanket.  And then I will put the first image of all our constellations back on the light box, and you and I can lie there and come up with names for the last two, the ones we never got to.  Then we can make out like shy teenagers and fall asleep in each other’s arms.”

Kathryn smiled and said, “Fall asleep under our stars.”

“Under our stars,” Chakotay repeated softly.

And that’s exactly what they did.

Chapter Text

“You made a pillow fort.”

Kathryn rolled her eyes and took a lengthy sip of wine.

“I mean, seriously, Kathryn Janeway, how old are you?  You made a pillow fort!”

B’Elanna shook her head in disbelief as she set her glass of synthehol sangria on the patio table and reached for the plate of toasted baguette slices and hummus.

“Hey, watch it, you aren’t the only person eating for two, Torres!” Phoebe said as she spooned a large glob of hummus onto her own plate before B’Elanna put it out of reach.

“Remind me why you invited the Incubators?” Kathryn asked Beverly.

The Doctor had just put a platter of grilled vegetables on the table, and both Phoebe and B’Elanna had started filling their plates from it immediately.

Beverly shrugged as she took her chair and replied, “They are two-thirds of the Love Council – it would have been rude to leave them at home.”

“Actually, we are only half if Deanna officially joins,” Phoebe said, pointing at Counselor Riker with her fork.  

Deanna looked around the table warily, her eyes settling on the Doctor.

“Beverly, what have you gotten me into?” she asked.

“Just a girls’ weekend, I thought,” Beverly replied with a laugh.

------------

Kathryn and Chakotay had spent that night, the one where they shared their insecurities and their gifts, together – a very tame, loving, almost-but-not-quite-chaste night amidst all the pillows, cushions and blankets they could find.  They were so happy, so in love, they felt so alive and young ….

So, yeah, they had built a pillow fort.

They woke up the next morning in each other’s arms feeling completely loved but only *mostly* content.  They both knew the tiny bit of discontent originated in their respective endocrine systems.

“Kathryn, I’ve got to be honest, I don’t know how many more nights I can spend like that,” Chakotay said over breakfast.  “I mean, you were right there, your body was right there, my body was right there, my imagination was all over the place – it was wonderful.  And torture.”

Kathryn smirked and said, “Yes, your torture was evident.  You talk in your sleep, handsome man.  And, uh, what you say, it’s, uh, kind of dirty.  Kind of hot.”

Chakotay groaned and put his hands over his face.

“See, this is exactly what I am talking about,” he said.  “I am embarrassed that I said things – and I can imagine what those things were – in my sleep.  I am extremely turned on by the fact you think what I said was hot.  I am mad at myself for putting myself in this position, to finally have your love but not feeling right about acting on it.  I want to leave, I want to take you to bed, I want to take a very cold shower, but then I want to ask you to join me in the shower … I think my brain might explode soon.”

No sympathy from Kathryn, though.  She just looked at him over her coffee cup and laughed.

“You’re so cute when you are horny and frustrated,” she said with a grin.

Chakotay laughed.  That was really all there was left to do.

Kathryn set her coffee cup down and reached across her kitchen table to grab his hand.  She looked at him with such love and affection that his heart jumped.

“Chakotay, I am sorry.  It’s so much fun to tease you like this, but I should be respectful of the limits you want us to mind for the next few weeks.  I truly understand why you want us to wait.  And when I let my heart do the thinking, as opposed to my hormones, I think it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard.  You are setting aside your instincts and desires to prove to me, and to yourself, that we are worth the wait.”

Chakotay sighed and replied, “I’m glad it makes sense to you, because it doesn’t always make sense to me.”

“It does,” Kathryn said with a large smile.  “And I think you and I both will get through the next seven or eight weeks much more easily if we avoid the torture.  Meaning no more nights like last night while we are courting.”

“Yeah,” he replied with regret.  “Maybe we ought to spend more of our time together with others, like Phoebe and Matt, Tom and B’Elanna.  Dr. Love said a lot of 20th century courtship took place in groups, and I think I am understanding why.”

Kathryn withdrew her hand and picked up her coffee cup.

“Here’s to being a good girl and a good boy,” she said.

“Here’s to it,” Chakotay replied, resigned.

------------

Now, a week-and-a-half later, five women – Kathryn, B’Elanna, Phoebe, Beverly, and Deanna – were at the Picard family vineyard in LaBarre, France.   

The first night had been a chance for all the ladies to catch up, and for Deanna to get to know Kathryn, Phoebe, and B’Elanna better.  The next morning, they had attended a small fair and farmer’s market in LaBarre.  After a quiet afternoon, they had made a wonderful dinner from some of the local produce they’d bought, and the three non-pregnant women raided the Picard wine cellar.

Kathryn spent dinner telling the group about her evening with Chakotay – that’s when B’Elanna became preoccupied with the concept of the pillow fort.  Eventually, even she agreed that the night sounded delightful, and that Chakotay was a deeply sweet, caring, sexy man, and it was a damn shame Kathryn couldn’t get naked with him yet.

“Did you ever want to, B’Elanna?” Beverly asked at one point.

B’Elanna tilted her head curiously and asked, “Want to what?”

“Get naked with Chakotay,” the doctor responded.  Ignoring Deanna and Phoebe’s widened eyes and Kathryn’s tiny smirk, she continued, “I mean, you’ve known him longer than Kathryn, and you’re both attractive, passionate people.  I was just wondering if you, well, ever got to see what was under his Maquis leathers.”

Since Kathryn had discussed B’Elanna with Chakotay, she wasn’t worried about this turn in the conversation.  But she did enjoy watching her former Chief Engineer squirm.

B’Elanna sputtered a little then raised her hands in supplication, saying “Nothing ever happened between me and Chakotay.  First there was Seska, then we were on Voyager.  So, no.”

Phoebe, getting into the spirit of the teasing, said, “But did you *want* something to happen?”

“I am sensing some guilt from you, B’Elanna,” Deanna said seriously.

B’Elanna’s eyes darted around the table, then landed on Kathryn.  The admiral was trying – and failing – to look stern.  At seeing her turning red from suppressed laughter, B’Elanna first relaxed then picked up her napkin to throw it at her former captain.

“That’s mean!” B’Elanna announced as the other women broke into raucous laughter.

“I just wanted to see if I could unnerve the unshakeable B’Elanna Torres!” Beverly laughed.

B’Elanna laughed in spite of herself, then looked at Kathryn again and shook her head.

“You know, I was thinking about naming this one,” and she put her hand over her tiny baby bump, “after you, but I’m rethinking it.”

Kathryn, still laughing, replied, “I don’t think ‘Kathryn’ would be a good name for a boy.”

B’Elanna’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Did Tom tell you?” she demanded.  “I was going to tell you!”

Kathryn leaned forward and said, “Oh, B’Elanna, *is* it a boy?  I was just guessing!  No, Tom hasn’t said anything, neither has Owen!”

B’Elanna sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, a guilty look on her face.

“Uhhhhh, no.  It’s not a boy.  It’s not a girl, either.  I mean, it could be either one, and ….”

But further protests were cut off by hugs and congratulations from Kathryn, Phoebe, Beverly, and Deanna.

When the baby update was digested, Kathryn said, “By the way, B’Elanna, one thing Tom *did* tell me when I was in the hospital after my accident was that you did have a brief crush on Chakotay at one time.”

“Like anyone would blame you for that,” Phoebe muttered.

B’Elanna sighed and said, “Yeah, I did.  Like, not long after Seska left the ship, for a few months.  It was over pretty quickly and, honestly, it never felt right.  He’s one of my dearest friends, but, I don’t know he’s ….”

“Too much like a brother?” Kathryn offered.

B’Elanna considered that for a moment, then nodded.

“I think that’s it, yes.  I’m not sure if that makes any sense, I mean, I have eyes.  I know he’s incredible looking.  And you can just look at him and imagine what that mouth is capable of ….”

All five women sighed.

B’Elanna shrugged and said, “But there always was just something … icky … about the idea.  I guess I really did see Chakotay as a brother.  I still do.”

“He feels the same way about you,” Kathryn said with a smile.

B’Elanna’s face lit up.  She knew Chakotay loved her – but to hear it from Kathryn was pretty incredible.

“Thank you,” she said, taking Kathryn’s hand.  “And I think pillow forts are wonderful.”

After dinner, Kathryn showed off her shadow cast constellations.  She set up the light box in the Picard estate’s library and explained each of the formations and their names.

Kathryn’s sister was delighted to finally see the Constellation of Phoebe and announced her intention to put it in a piece of artwork.

When Kathryn explained her long-standing debate with Chakotay about the Sand Starfish vs. Plumeria Blossom name, the women spent several minutes debating the virtues of each designation.  They even stood up and, using a fireplace poker, traced the imaginary lines of each image on the projected stars.  When her friends finally reached an impasse, Kathryn put the close-up image sheet on the light box, and the Plumeria Constellation shined on the Picard ceiling.

Beverly smiled and asked, “Any particular reason he decided to go with your preference?”

Kathryn, still staring at the ceiling, replied softly, “He said he wanted to bring me flowers.”

And, once more, there were sighs.

Phoebe and B’Elanna each went to bed soon after, and Beverly went to the vineyard office to use the comm.  Kathryn and Deanna sat on the front porch sipping wine and listening to the breeze run through the wines.

“Thank you for letting me join your group,” Deanna said.

“Oh, we should thank you for sharing Beverly with us,” Kathryn responded.  “She’s been a great friend to me since she came back to Earth, but I know she considers you her best friend.”

They sat quietly for a few more minutes.

“Of course,” Deanna said, “I feel as though I know you.  Will and I had the chance to spend a lot of time with Chakotay on the Titan.  And he definitely enjoys talking about you!”

Kathryn just smiled in response.

Eventually, Deanna spoke again.

“Kathryn, could I ask you something about you and Chakotay?”

Kathryn looked at Deanna curiously and nodded.

“What do you think would have happened if Chakotay hadn’t made the surprising suggestion of the courtship approach?  If he had just asked you to give a relationship a try and put no restrictions on it?”

Kathryn looked towards the vineyard for a moment then said, “It wouldn’t have gone anywhere.  I would have kept my wall up – I am still surprised I didn’t do that anyway.  I think everything about his suggestion and description of a courtship just … I don’t know … shocked me into cooperation.”

“How so?” Deanna asked.

“Well, the ‘no sex’ thing was surprising.  Or the fact it was such a big part of this idea.”

Kathryn turned in her chair to face Deanna.

“It wasn’t the sex part that stopped me cold, it was the fact he wanted to get to know me in such a deliberate way.  I think … I think all our years in the Delta Quadrant worked for and against us.  For us in that we did get to know each other pretty intimately.  But against us that we were in such specific circumstances, and we were so restricted in who we could be out there.  I felt like Chakotay knew Captain Janeway very well.  I was never sure how much of myself I let him see.  The fact that he approached me with such a specific approach to know me was intriguing.”

Kathryn sighed a bit and added, “I think I was worried a lot out there that I – all of me, all of Kathryn – wasn’t worth seeing.  And the day he came to me with that suggestion of a courtship, I felt like he was saying that, maybe, I was worth it.

Looking right into Deanna’s eyes, Kathryn asked, “Does that make any sense at all?”

Deanna nodded and said, “It makes a lot of sense.  Most of us carry the same two fears when it comes to relationships – the fear of being known, and the fear of never being known.  Whether he knew it or not, Chakotay was trying to let you know he wanted to know you, but in a non-threatening way.  The courtship approach is mostly a gimmick, but it’s a good one.  It gives you both the time you need.”

“Now,” Deanna laughed, “I don’t know that I could stick to the ‘no sex’ deal as long as you have up to now, and apparently plan to.  When Will and I finally got honest about our feelings, we were in bed – in a bathtub, actually – within minutes.”

Kathryn chuckled and said, “It’s been a challenge.  But I believe I understand why he’s committing to it.  He wants to prove to me, and prove to himself, that he is more than ‘jump into bed’ guy.  It’s important to him, and I don’t want to be dismissive of that.”

“What’s interesting,” Kathryn continued, “is that I see it being good for us.  I have gotten to know him, and he me, to an extent I don’t think would have happened if we were sleeping together.  I feel completely at home with him.  I feel safe.  I feel *cherished*.  It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.”

“Wow,” Deanna said softly.

“And when we do sleep together,” Kathryn replied, “it will beyond description.  Not because of techniques or positions or orgasms – all of which are very important, not to be ignored.  But because of the intimacy that we will have enjoyed up to that point.  I honestly think it will be the first time I actually make love with someone.  It will be worth the wait.”

Deanna looked at Kathryn for a moment, then hesitantly asked, “I am sorry if this question is too prying, but haven’t you been engaged before?  You didn’t consider that to be ‘making love’?”

Kathryn looked at her wine glass for a little bit, then said, “With Mark, no.  We were old friends who became ‘friends with benefits,’ who became a habit, and then became engaged.  It was sex – often very good sex, but still just sex.  I never approached ‘making love’ with Mark.”

“With Justin,” Kathryn started.  Then she slumped back into her chair and sighed.  

“With Justin, I am not really sure anymore.  We were very young and very passionate.  The sex was great.  Did I feel safe with Justin?  Yes, physically safe.  He was my rescuer.  But was I totally and completely myself when I was with him?  Did I feel safe to be myself, all facets of myself, with Justin?  I don’t know.”

Kathryn looked out at the night sky.

“I have called Justin ‘the love of my life’ for a long time.  But I don’t know that he was. I know my mother questions it.  When … when I try to remember my feelings for him, I remember the feelings of a girl.”

Kathryn looked back at Deanna and said, “I think I have some things to figure out yet.  But I am certain of Chakotay.  One-hundred percent certain.”

------------

Later that night, as Deanna prepared for bed, she thought about the comm she got the day before she left the Titan for France.

It had been from Chakotay. Kathryn had told him the counselor was joining them on the trip to France, so he contacted Deanna.  He told her some of what he had discovered about Kathryn’s last remaining barrier in his conversations with Owen Paris and Gretchen Janeway.  He told her that Gretchen intended to confront Kathryn with the possible truth of how the deaths of Edward and Justin had affected her view of Justin.  Chakotay shared with Deanna his fear that facing that truth might overwhelm Kathryn with guilt.

Deanna had understood Chakotay’s concerns and made an effort to get to know Kathryn.  But in doing so, Deanna discovered something that Chakotay, Gretchen, Owen, and whoever else might be involved didn’t know.  

Kathryn Janeway was halfway to that truth entirely on her own.

Chapter Text

A week or so after Kathryn returned from France, Chakotay was preparing to deliver a major lecture at Starfleet Academy.  He didn’t think there would be much interest, but the Admiral disagreed.

“It’s anthropology, Kathryn, not the sexiest subject area at the Academy,” he’d said to her over dinner at his apartment few nights before the event, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, but you *are* the sexiest instructor on campus,” Kathryn replied with a flirtatious smile.

Chakotay blushed a little and tugged at his ear.  Which Kathryn thought might be the most endearing thing she’d ever seen.

“But even if you weren’t,” she continued, “this particular presentation is getting a lot of attention.  What you learned during your time with the Voth has huge implications for this planet’s history.”

Chakotay shook his head a little and said, “It’s all speculation ….”

“But it’s speculation that involves space travel and dinosaurs, Chakotay.  Actual dinosaurs on spaceships.  I’m amazed they are giving you the 300-seat lecture hall, this topic belongs in the 1000-seat auditorium.”

Chakotay poked out his bottom lip in a mock pout and said, “The one person I really want there won’t come, though.”

“You know why,” she responded with a sigh.

This had been a topic of some discussion between the two.  Kathryn made the decision *not* to attend Chakotay’s lecture in person but watch it over the Starfleet comm system.  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be there to support him – on the contrary, she would have loved to be on the first row.  But since Voyager’s return to the Alpha Quadrant, she had attended enough presentations by her former crew to realize her presence ended up being a detriment – attendees would ask her questions instead of the presenter.

The last time Kathryn had attended a lecture by one of her crew, it had been a disaster.  The Doctor had been presenting to Starfleet Medical students about Vidiians and the Phage, but the students kept asking Kathryn their questions.  Seeing the Doctor becoming upset, Kathryn had stood before the assembly, given them a blistering two-minute lecture on appropriate audience behavior, and stormed out.  She had sworn to never put herself in a position to upstage one of her crew again.

Chakotay had understood her reasoning – didn’t mean he had to like it.

“I know, but I am going to miss seeing you,” he said, reaching to lay his hand on hers.  “It’s nice to have someone in the room who was there, you know?”

Kathryn smiled and intertwined her fingers with him in response.  They looked at each other long enough to feel loved, then returned to their food.

“I guess if you aren’t there for me to look at,” Chakotay said with a noisy sigh, “I’ll just have to find some cadets to make eye contact with.  Think there might be any cute blondes there?”

A dinner roll hit him right above his left eye.

------------

The presentation had been an enormous success.  Kathryn was right, the hall was packed, it was standing room only.  The talk had lasted a little over ninety minutes, and audience questions had lasted an hour before Academy officials finally ended the evening.  

Despite the supposed end of the event, Chakotay was still surrounded by at least a dozen officers and students as he tried to leave.  He actually found his path to the main doors blocked.  Looking towards a side door, though, he spotted an opportunity for escape.

“Captain Picard, what an honor to have you attend tonight,” Chakotay said a little loudly.  The crowd around him parted.

Picard reached to shake Chakotay’s hand and said, “The honor is mine.  I thoroughly enjoyed your presentation.  I wonder if you might have a few moments to discuss it?”

Chakotay nodded and replied, “Of course, let’s go to my office.”

As they walked out, leaving the group still calling questions after them, Chakotay said in a low voice, “Captain, I would be grateful if you could walk with me to my office and give me cover for about ten minutes, then maybe I can get out of here un-accosted.”

“As long as you agree to call me Jean Luc,” the older man replied.

Once they were in his office, Chakotay said, “I am getting myself some tea, would you care for any?”

Jean Luc nodded and said, “Please, Earl Grey, hot.”

Chakotay considered that and ordered two Earl Grays from his replicator.  He handed a cup to Jean Luc and the men sat down, each sipping their tea.

“I haven’t had Earl Gray in a while, thank you for reminding me of it,” Chakotay said with a smile.

Jean Luc continued sipping his tea while Chakotay put away some padds.

“While I was happy to give you a way out of the crowd, I really did want to as you some questions, Captain, if you have a few minutes,” Jean Luc eventually said.

“Of course, but you must call me Chakotay.”

Jean Luc nodded then asked, “Chakotay, did you ever review the work of Professor Richard Galen?”

Chakotay inhaled and said, “Yes, of course.  His work on Kurlan antiquities was unmatched.  You were a student of his, I think?”

“Yes, I was,” Jean Luc replied.  “In fact, he had come to see me to ask me to join him on his research just before he died.  It was … a new subject area for him.”

“I don’t recall him publishing anything major before he died,” Chakotay said with a slight frown.

“He didn’t have a chance to,” Jean Luc said.  “But in a way, he left the work to me.  And hearing you tonight, I am wondering if it is something you might find interesting.”

Jean Luc then spent about half an hour explaining Professor Galen’s theories regarding the deliberate seeding of planets in the galaxy with genetic material by a mostly unknown benefactor billions of years ago.  He explained the genetic samples that Galen, and then the Enterprise, had gathered.  He told the story of the involvement of the Klingons, the Cardassians, and the Rolumlans, and the final confrontation all four groups had on the surface of Vilmor II.

Chakotay was fascinated.

“So a representative of this progenitor race appeared holographically?  That’s stunning.  Do you have the recording still?”

“We do,” Jean Luc replied.  “And I think it would be interesting to see if any of the sequences we found in our search are seen in the DNA of hadrosaur remains on Earth, or any genetic samples you might have of the Voth.”

Chakotay sat back for a moment, lost in thought.

“You are wondering if the evolution of the Voth followed the same basic trajectory as other races that came from seeded planets,” he said.

“Something like that,” Jean Luc said with a smile.  “I definitely think that there must be some opportunity for these two different theories to inform one another.”

“Oh, yes,” Chakotay agreed.  His mind was already chasing the possibilities.  

Jean Luc cleared his throat and slowly said, “Professor Galen’s research isn’t the only reason I wanted to talk with you, though.”

“It’s not?” Chakotay asked.

“No,” Jean Luc replied.  He was quiet for a moment, then he said, “Admiral Janeway said you might want to talk with me about the Enterprise D’s mission to Dorvan V.”

Chakotay sat back in his chair.  He hadn’t actually been expecting Picard to bring that up.

Jean Luc continued.

“I do not have any recollection of meeting your mother or father, Chakotay.  But I spent a great deal of time with your grandfather.  He was a fascinating man.”

Chakotay nodded slightly.

Jean Luc ran his hand over his head and said, “I was … well, everyone on the Enterprise was … we were horrified by the massacre.”

Chakotay tilted his head and looked evenly at Picard.

“Horrified,” he repeated.

Jean Luc looked at him for a moment then suddenly stood and started pacing Chakotay’s office. 

“No,” he said, stopping and looking at Chakotay.  “No, I was angry.  I was so angry.  I still am.  I left those people – I left your people – to die.  You know that, I can see it in your eyes.”

Chakotay just sat and quietly regarded the man in front of him.

Jean Luc continued, “I was so angry at Starfleet for giving that colony, and all the others, to Cardassia.  Like we didn’t know exactly what would happen.  *I* knew what would happen, *I* knew how the Cardassians operated.  But I went along with it, didn’t I?”

He sat down again across from Chakotay.  He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped.  He looked earnestly at Chakotay.

“What I need to understand is why your grandfather and the other colonists were so willing to accept Cardassian rule when I, and so many others, told them over and over how dangerous it would be.”

Jean Luc looked at the floor for a moment.  When he lifted his head, there was a new pain in his eyes.

“Chakotay, your grandfather told me that by not forcing them to leave Dorvan, I was making right a wrong committed by an ancestor of mine against your people.  Your grandfather made it seem as though my family owed this huge debt, and that I was repaying it by leaving them there.  And then they were all killed.”

Jean Luc leaned back in his chair and said sadly, “I don’t understand how I could possibly have made things right between my people and yours by allowing circumstances that led to their slaughter.  Can you help me understand it?"

Chakotay could see the anguish in the older man’s face.  He heard the anger and confusion in his voice.

These were familiar things – these were the things Chakotay had felt himself.

“Jean Luc,” he began, “I wish I could explain it.  If I could explain it to you, then I could explain it to myself.  I’ve never been able to do that, though.”

Chakotay shook his head and said, “My grandfather and father both believed that there was a reason for everything – every event, the presence of any person, the rain falling one day and not the next, etc.  The problem is, if you believe there is significance and meaning in everything, then absolutely everything must have a significance you must fathom.  That idea always overwhelmed me - I don’t think it's possible to find deep meaning in everything, even for the wisest or most insightful.  I think, sometimes, people end up creating significance and meaning where there isn't any."

He continued, "Your arrival at Dorvan when it was being handed back to the Cardassians might be such a thing. My people weren't interested in the political or tactical reality of the handover, they wanted to see some spiritual significance. It would have been very easy for my grandfather to learn of your ancestor and declare your presence at Dorvan was a bad omen, a warning of disaster to come.  But, for whatever reason, he chose not to.  He found the name ‘Picard’ in the bloody history of the indigenous people of the Americas and, using his own desires as an interpretive lens, told you that your presence on that mission meant a certain thing.”

Jean Luc looked thoughtfully at Chakotay.  This was not a perspective he expected from the younger captain

“I was angry about Dorvan for a very, very long time,” Chakotay continued.  “I was angry at Starfleet – I still am, to a certain extent.  But I am not angry at you, Jean Luc.  You didn’t do anything wrong.  You followed a reasonable order that was based on a questionable decision made far away from you, by others you couldn’t influence. You didn't create the situation that led to my family's losses.”

“I appreciate that,” Jean Luc said quietly, after a moment.  His subdued response could not hide, though, that a weight had been lifted from him.

Chakotay smiled slightly at him.

“My father and grandfather had one very important assumption at the heart of their beliefs – that our relationship to the spirits is dependent on proximity to the land.  It took getting stranded thousands of light years away from Dorvan and Earth for me to learn it wasn’t true.  Our spirits travel with us – our relationship with them depends on our willingness to listen, and no particular land is needed for that. There have been times when I haven't been willing, that I was so busy telling the spirits what I thought they should be saying that I nearly failed to notice their silence.  I have wondered for many years if my grandfather, in his eagerness for the colony at Dorvan to be a success, failed to notice ambivalence in the spirits.  But I have forgiven him for that.  I have forgiven my father.”

Chakotay then smiled and said, “And thanks to the encouragement of a certain Admiral, I have forgiven myself.  She reminded me in many ways – both in the Delta Quadrant years ago and here, on Earth, in the last few weeks – that ‘home’ really isn’t a single place.  It’s where you are the most yourself.  It can be a colony, a planet, a starship, or even a front porch.  It can be a person.”

At that, he reached across his desk to pick up a small figurine.  He placed it in front of Jean Luc.

Picard stared at the thing before him.  It was a toy dinosaur, the kind you might see a four-year old child playing with.  However, over its head was a small, clear bowl.  And something small and gold was on its chest.

“I assume this is not you when you are most yourself,” Jean Luc said.

Chakotay picked up the toy and said proudly, “You heard me talk tonight about the evolutionary projection of hadrosaurs we did on Voyager, and how we came to believe they were the ancestors of the Voth. Well, this is a Space Hadrosaur.  This is his space helmet.  You know, because he flew in space”

“And this,” Chakotay continued with a large smile as he pointed at the small gold dot on the hadrosaur’s check, “is his communicator.  He’s a Starfleet Space Hadrosaur.  Kathryn gave him to me.”

Jean Luc chuckled and asked, “Home?”

Chakotay, still smiling, affirmed, “Home.  Yes, Kathryn is home for me, finally. Where is 'home' for you?”

Jean Luc stared at the Space Hadrosaur for a little bit longer, then said, “LaBarre has been my home.  The Stargazer was, the Enterprise was.  Well, the Enterprise-D.  The E doesn’t feel like home.  Too many people are gone.  Will and Deanna.  Data.”

“Beverly?” Chakotay asked.

“Beverly,” Jean Luc replied wistfully.  “In a way, she’s always been 'home,' if home really is where you feel the most yourself.  I’ve chased that feeling – I’ve chased her – for a long time.”

“Since you were both on the Enterprise-D?”

“Since long before that.  Her husband was my best friend.  I fell in love with my best friend’s wife, I am ashamed to say.”

Chakotay looked at Jean Luc with interest.  Everyone in Starfleet suspected Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher felt much more for each other than just friendship.  Will and Deanna had basically confirmed it.  So had Kathryn.  But Chakotay had never heard that the feelings went that far back. 

“Did your friend know?  Did Beverly?” he asked.

Jean Luc shook his head and said, “No, thankfully, I managed to keep my mouth shut.  Beverly and Jack were already halfway to the altar when I met her.  I thought it was just lust.  It wasn’t until their wedding, when I was standing there as Jack’s best man, watching Beverly walking towards him with all that love in her eyes, that I realized it.  I was so happy for him – for them.  But my heart was breaking because I knew she would never look at me like that.”

The older man sighed.

“Then when Jack died … he died on a mission I was leading.  Well, you’ve lost people under your command, Chakotay, you know what it’s like.”

Chakotay nodded gravely.  Yes, he knew.  

He replied to Jean Luc, “You always carry the guilt.  Even if you are absolutely certain there was nothing else to do, you always blame yourself for not doing something.”

“Right,” Jean Luc said.  “That’s exactly what happens when you lose a crew member in the normal routine of space exploration.  But when the person you lose is your best friend … and you know, deep down inside that you are in love with his wife ….”

Jean Luc closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.  Then he looked at Chakotay and said, “I’ve spent decades wondering if there *was* something I could have done, but the part of me that loved Beverly kept me from seeing it.  If there is some cruel, selfish aspect of my inner self that allowed it to happen.”

He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then back at Chakotay.  Jean Luc chuckled mirthlessly and said, “It often feels as though I will be killing him again if I allow myself to be happy with Beverly.”

A flash of … something … shot through Chakotay – awareness or knowledge, or something.  He wasn’t sure.  He couldn’t take time to decipher it right now, though, he felt compelled to help this fellow captain.

He asked slowly, “So, after Jack died, how long did it take for you to declare your love for Beverly?”

Jean Luc looked horrified at the thought and said, “I didn’t.  I ran from her, from their child, from all of it.  I ran so fast and so far, I think she felt I abandoned her.”

Chakotay nodded a little then asked, “So, after waiting a respectable amount of time, maybe a few years, you sought her out and told her how you felt?”

Now Jean Luc looked confused.

“No, I stayed away from her and Wesley.  I don’t think I would have seen her again at all had she not come onboard the Enterprise.”

“I see,” Chakotay replied.  “And when she arrived and you told her you loved her, she turned you down?”

“No.  She didn’t turn me down because I never said anything,” Jean Luc said slowly.  “The only reason she ever found out that I loved her was because we had been kidnapped and fitted with neural transmitters by a hostile force.  We could read each other’s thoughts, and she heard my, my guilt, when she said something about Jack.”

He narrowed his eyes and looked at Chakotay.

“I don’t understand where you are going with this, with these suggestions that I pursued Beverly.”

Chakotay smiled and replied, “I am apparently going nowhere.  Just like you went nowhere, which is the point I am trying to make.  Jean Luc, if there truly were some cruel, selfish part of you that could somehow trick your better nature into allowing your friend to die, don’t you think that part of you also would have actually gotten you together with Beverly long ago?  How could you be devious enough to kill your best friend, but somehow not devious enough to take advantage of the situation?”

Jean Luc could only stare.

Chakotay shrugged and said, “I am sure you’ve had a number of people over the years try to assuage your guilt by telling you that you are far too good a man to have done something like that, so there’s no point in me saying the same.  But I am quite certain no one has pointed out that it would be almost laughable for a Starfleet captain of your caliber to make such a ridiculous tactical error.”

Jean Luc continued to stare for a few more seconds, then he covered his eyes with his hand.  When he looked back at Chakotay, he was chuckling.

“You are saying my success at strategic planning argues against my selfishness,” he said, smiling and shaking his head.

Chakotay laughed with him and replied, “I this situation, yes, I am.”

They both laughed quietly for a bit longer, then Chakotay spoke again.

“Jean Luc, I think you are doing something similar to what my grandfather did.  You are looking for meaning and significance where there may be none.  Sometimes a planet is just a planet, only meant to be a temporary home.  Believing it was more than that led my people to their demise.  And sometimes the death of a friend is just a terrible, awful tragedy.  If you believe it is more than that, that you somehow caused it despite all evidence to the contrary, then you are granting yourself enormous power over our rather random universe.  And you are denying Jack the reality of his death.  You’re making the end of his life all about you.”

Jean Luc took a deep breath, but Chakotay continued.

“The actual selfish thing you are doing is allowing your conflicted emotions over Jack’s death to keep you from loving someone who deserves all your attention and affection.  You are using your friend, her husband, as a hiding place.  That’s not fair to any of you.  And I feel like Jack would be the first person to back me up on that.”

Chakotay looked at his Space Hardosaur, then back at Jean Luc.

“You must either love her fully and completely, allowing her access to all parts of your life and heart and soul, or you must walk away from her fully and completely.  If you cannot do the latter, then the former must become your mission.”

Even as he said the words, even as he saw the captain nod in acknowledgement of what he’d just said, Chakotay’s eyes weren’t seeing Jean Luc Picard.  Instead, he was seeing a different face entirely.

------------

As Chakotay prepared for bed later that night, he thought about his conversation with Jean Luc.  He remembered when the Captain said it felt like he would be killing Jack a second time if Jean Luc and Beverly ended up together.

He remembered the bolt of electricity that ran through him at that moment.

Kathryn.  Were Picard’s words a preview of what Kathryn would say when Gretchen confronted her about the deaths of Edward and Justin?

Could Kathryn accept their deaths were simply things that happened?  Was she going to try and attach additional significance to them, like Jean Luc did with the death of his friend? Would she continue to find reasons to blame herself?

Gretchen believed Kathryn had turned Justin into a mythic hero in order to make it all right that that she didn’t save her father.  Chakotay was beginning to think it was something even more profound.

Chakotay’s father and grandfather had been willing to risk the lives of their friends and family because they needed Dorvan to be significant, they couldn’t handle living in a universe where a planet is just a planet, and sometimes it’s the wrong one.  And they lost their lives.

Jean Luc was willing to question his own motives and decency, and was willing to deny himself the love he’d desired for decades, because he couldn’t accept that his friend’s death was just another senseless tragedy.  For that tragedy to ultimately make a life with Beverly possible only made it worse.  Chakotay wondered, could Beverly and Jean Luc make up for lost time?

And then there was Kathryn.

His brave, beautiful Kathryn, who would rather see the deaths of her father and fiancé as resulting from her failure than as the random, terrible events they were.  Because if there was no cause, if she didn’t fail, then it could happen again.  

Chakotay climbed into bed and looked at the space next to him, one he could not wait for Kathryn to occupy.  

“Oh, Kathryn,” he whispered to the the other bed pillow.

“They died, and it was terrible for you, I know.  They are gone, Kathryn, but I’m not.  Loving me now doesn't mean you failed to love them then.”

Chapter Text

A few days after Chakotay’s lecture, Kathryn was reviewing yet another padd with yet another summary of a report that she really would have preferred to read in its entirety.  This particular summary had been authored by the infamous Erick Greene.

Kathryn had run into Greene a couple of times at Starfleet Headquarters since the night of the Voyager cookout – the night she got drunk, the night she suggested Chakotay do her against a tree, the night they fought, the night she vomited behind a shrub within hearing distance of most of her former crew ….

Interesting that the only memory of that night that truly still turned her stomach was that of Greene’s smarmy smile.

She tossed the padd on her desk and got up to stretch and get a cup of coffee.  Something about the summary bothered her.  The report supposedly was a review of the ongoing discussions between the Federation and Cardassia regarding rebuilding efforts Starfleet was helping with after the Dominion War.  It was an enormous project, one that required a significant amount of diplomacy – there were many Cardassians who were none too happy for Starfleet to help them recover.

It was such a complex issue – why was Greene’s summary so simplistic?

Kathryn had learned from her father that she should always read a Starfleet document for what wasn’t being said, not just what was said.  And there was a hell of a lot not being said in this summary.  And Kathryn felt pretty sure the actual report might be equally unenlightening.

So, what wasn’t being said?  And why wasn’t it?

Her comm began beeping, so she picked up her freshly replicated coffee and returned to her desk.  The face of Beverly Crusher appeared on the screen.

“Hey, Kathryn, sorry to bother you.  I was wondering if I could get a rain check for dinner tonight?”

Kathryn made a face and said, “Oh, come on, Beverly!  This is the third time in a row!  How many more emergency appendectomies should the head of Starfleet Medical be expected to perform?”

Beverly looked a little sheepish and replied, “It’s not a surgery – and those other two were totally legitimate, by the way.  But no, tonight’s not a surgery.”

Kathryn narrowed her eyes and said, “Every time you cancel on me, I end up hungry.  And hunger makes me less forgiving.  So unless you are cancelling on me because you have an appointment with a naked Jean Luc Picard, or you have ….”

But Kathryn didn’t finish the sentence.  As the words “naked Jean Luc Picard,” Beverly had turned beet red.

“Oooohhhhhhhhh!  So you actually *are* standing me up for Jean Luc?  Naked Jean Luc?” Kathryn asked gleefully.

Beverly, still blushing, said, “I have … plans … with Jean Luc, yes.  To my knowledge, nudity is not on the agenda.”

Then she added quietly, “But it’s not off the table either.”

Then there was a pause.

“I hope it’s a sturdy table,” Kathryn finally replied with a saucy grin.

“Just … stop,” Beverly replied, laughing. “It’s just a date.  He and I had a long conversation the other night, and we both want to give ‘us’ a try.  He’s asked me to come to the Enterprise tonight for dinner and dancing.”

“Dancing!” Kathryn exclaimed, leaning towards the comm.  “I don’t remember you ever saying he liked to dance.”

Beverly shrugged and said, “I think he likes it.  I have always found him to be a wonderful dancer.  But he hates ‘obligation dancing,’ where he feels like he *has* to dance with someone, like an ambassador or an admiral’s wife or something.  So he usually just tries to avoid it altogether.”

“I can understand that, I always hate feeling like I *have* to dance with every handsy Starfleet officer at a event.  So, do you have to go shopping for something to wear?” Kathryn asked.

Beverly tried unsuccessfully to smother a smile.

“Not exactly,” she said, not looking at Kathryn.  “Jean Luc, uh, he sent me a dress he picked out for me.  And it fits perfectly.”

Kathryn’s eyes shot wide open.

"Wow," she said.  "That's bold, even for him.  What happened to knock some sense into him?"

“You know, I actually think I have Chakotay to thank for this whole thing,” Beverly replied.

“Chakotay?” a surprised Kathryn asked.  “How so?”

“He apparently had a long conversation with Jean Luc after his lecture.  Whatever they talked about, it led Jean Luc to finally come to me and talk about us.  So I owe Chakotay for that part, no doubt.  As far as my date goes, they apparently also talked about the Dr. Love book.  Jean Luc borrowed it, looking for date ideas, and he found one.  He got a holoprogam for a 1940’s USO dinner and dance.  He’s going to dress like an American Navy Captain, and he’s sent me a dress that he called a ‘Rita Hayworth’ dress.  Whatever that means.  He says we’ll be able to waltz, to rumba, to swing dance, everything.”

“That actually sounds very romantic,” Kathryn conceded.  "And Chakotay has become quite the Dr. Love scholar, and I can see him directing Jean Luc to that book for ideas."

Beverly sighed and rested her chin on her hand.

“It's such an enticing scenario we'll be experiencing,” she mused dreamily.  “A brave captain about to go fight in the biggest war anyone had ever known, spending his last evening at home at a USO dance, where he meets an eligible woman in a strapless, satin dress, and they dance the night away ….”

Beverly sighed again, then looked at Kathryn.

“So, no, I am not having dinner with you tonight.”

“Understood,” Kathryn chuckled.  “I’ll just go to mom’s instead.  Chakotay is up there helping her with her garden, and she wanted me to come up.  I’ll let her know I’m free after all.”

“Please give your mom my best,” Beverly said.  “And please also thank Chakotay for talking to Jean Luc.  I gather it was a serious conversation.  I know they talked about Jack a lot.”

“Your husband?” Kathryn asked.

“Yes.  Though after all this time, it's gotten a little strange to think of him that way - it's like someone else was married to him, not me.  Jack's been dead longer than he was alive.  He's been gone for decades, but it's really his death has kept Jean Luc away from me all these years.  Jean Luc has been burdened with so many feelings about it himself – guilt, mainly.  Guilt that Jack died, guilt that he lived.  It all kept him from ever really, truly opening up to me.  You know, he and I never actually discussed Jack’s death in any meaningful way until this week?  All this time ….”

Beverly got quiet for a second, her mind drifting, then she started speaking again.

“Funny thing is, he had assumed that my feelings about Jack were why I had been hesitant to get involved with him when we were still serving together on the Enterprise-D.  Truth was, it had less to do with Jack and more too do with my own concerns.  Jean Luc was my superior officer, I had concerns about propriety.  And he was my best friend – I didn’t want to risk that over what might end up being hormones.  But by the time I had dealt with all of that, when I was ready to try things with him, it seemed like he had gotten over me, moved on to other women.”

“Like the voluptuous alien with the ridiculous name?” Kathryn asked.

Beverly nodded and said, “Yes, like Anij.  He told me the other night that she, and others, had been attempts to forget about me.  Which is fine, they weren’t the real problem.  The real problem was me.  I never made it clear to him that Jack was in a totally different life of mine. While I loved Jack Crusher in my youth, I cannot say with certainty that I would still be with him now had he lived.  I am a different woman than the girl he married.  And if he had lived, I don’t know who I might have become.  But I had tell Jean Luc – I had to make sure he understood – the Beverly I became, the Beverly I am today, loves him.  And only him.”

A little choked up and out of breath, Beverly stopped.  She was reliving the emotion of their conversation – she was remembering the look of trust and peace on Jean Luc’s face when he realized that, yes, Beverly loved him.  Not a memory, but him.

“It was a long time coming,” Beverly finally said, her voice trembling a bit.  “But I think we’ve been freed from the past.  And that just leaves us.”

And she smiled.

“A long time coming, hmm,” Kathryn said softly.  She was happy for her friends.

Beverly just laughed quietly.

Kathryn took a deep breath and said, “Well, I’d tell not to do anything I wouldn’t do tonight, but given the restrictions Chakotay and I are still under as we ‘go steady,’ I’m afraid you might be insulted.  So I’ll just tell you to have a wonderful time, you deserve it.  You both do.”

“Thank you,” Beverly responded with a large smile.

“Oh, and seriously, pick a sturdy table,” Kathryn added, cutting off the comm before Beverly had a chance to react.

She picked up her coffee and walked to her window, her previous train of thought about the Greene’s reports forgotten.

So much of what Beverly said about how she had changed so much since Jack died seemed … familiar.  

As Kathryn and Chakotay had grown closer, she had found herself thinking more and more of Justin.  Not with despair, but with more curiosity than anything.  If he had lived, would she have married him?  Her mother didn’t seem to think they would have lasted.  Would they have married, but then divorced?

If Justin had lived, they had married and stayed married, would Kathryn have become captain of Voyager?  Would she have gotten lost in the Delta Quadrant and met Chakotay?  Would she have fallen in love with him?

Try as she might, she couldn’t envision a present without Chakotay.  

Try as she might, she couldn’t envision a present with Justin.

She was standing at her office window, looking towards a beautiful stand of trees but not seeing them.  She was waiting for the guilt to start.  That dead weight in her chest, the slow constriction of her throat, the headache, and deflation of spirit that always came whenever she remembered Justin’s death.

It didn’t come.

A wistful sadness, yes.  Self-loathing, no.

Kathryn put her coffee in the recycler and gathered her things.  She was headed to Indiana.  It was just as well Beverly cancelled dinner, because Kathryn needed to talk to her mother.

As soon as possible.

Chapter Text

“Mom?  Mom, are you here?”

Kathryn had gone straight from Starfleet Headquarters to Indiana.  She didn’t stop by her home in San Francisco, or even by the café for a coffee.  

She set her things down on the dining room table and headed to the kitchen, still looking for her mother.

“Mom?”

“Katie, is that you?”

It wasn’t Gretchen asking the question, it was Phoebe.  She walked into the kitchen carrying a sandwich in one hand and an apple in the other.

Kathryn eyed the food with a grin.

“A little hungry?” she asked.

Phoebe shrugged and replied, “Eating for two and all that.  Were you calling for mom?  We didn’t think you were coming tonight.”

“My dinner with got cancelled.  Yes, I wanted to talk with mom about something, where is she?”

“She, Matt, and Chakotay are all out there,” Phoebe answered.  She used her sandwich to point towards the window looking out onto the backyard.

Kathryn walked to the window.  She could see the three all standing next to freshly-tilled soil, some of it with plants already in the ground.  They seemed to be looking at an old-fashioned notebook, something Kathryn immediately recognized.  It was an ancient thing handed down through the generations of Gretchen’s family, it contained centuries of garden designs and notes.  Gretchen hauled it out every year about this time to consult it as she planned her spring vegetable garden.

“Huh, so mom is introducing the guys to the ‘Jungle Book,’” Kathryn mused, using the nickname she and her sister had given the thing ages ago.

“Yeah, I pled ‘pregnant’ and came inside,” Phoebe said with a laugh.  She turned to say something else to her sister, but stopped when she saw the look on Kathryn’s face.

She knew that look.  It warned of serious conversations ahead.

“Did you need to see mom about something?” Phoebe asked a little warily.

“Yes,” Kathryn replied softly as she continued to look out the window.

“You don’t sound very sure,” Phoebe said.
 
“I am,” Kathryn responded quietly.  Then, as if roused from deep thoughts, she looked at her sister and said, “Yes, I need to see mom and talk to her about something.  Maybe you, too.”

Phoebe tilted her head a little and asked, “Is everything OK?”

Taking a deep breath, Kathryn replied, “Yes.  Yes, well … yes, I am OK.  But I need to talk to mom about something.  About Justin.  And daddy.

Phoebe blinked a couple of times and took a deep breath.

“What do you want me to tell Chakotay?  Do you want me to tell him you are here?”

Kathryn smiled a bit and said, “It’s fine to tell him I am here.  Just tell him I need to talk to you and mom about something and I’ll get with him later.”

She turned away from the window, said to Phoebe, “I’ll meet you and mom in daddy’s study,” and walked out of the kitchen.

Phoebe leaned against the counter for a moment to gather her thoughts.  She had a good idea what this conversation would be about.  Gretchen had told her that Chakotay had learned of their concern about Kathryn’s lingering issues with the deaths of Justin and Edward.  Gretchen was concerned those issues would remain a barrier between the two.

Though she hadn’t said anything about it, Phoebe wasn’t so sure that Kathryn was as self-deluded, or as fragile, as Gretchen and Owen thought she was.  During their weekend in France, Phoebe has heard her sister make a number of comments about a future with Chakotay that seemed free of the doubt and guilt that everyone had come to expect.  Phoebe had even made a comment about it to Deanna Riker on their last day in LaBarre.

“You and Beverly and B’Elanna are the first Starfleet people I’ve ever seen my sister have *fun* with,” Phoebe had said to Deanna as they watched the other three women in the vineyard throwing grapes into one another’s mouths and laughing hysterically.  

“I’ve got to be honest, it’s a little weird to see, she hasn’t been like this in years.  I guess I’ll just thank all of you for being such good friends to Katie, she’s needed people to pull her into the ‘land of the living’ for a long time, a long-damned time,” she had added.

Deanna had smiled and looked earnestly at Phoebe.

“Sometimes people don’t have to be pulled,” she’d replied.  “Sometimes, they find their way back on their own, and they don’t even know it.

Phoebe had just let that go as “counselor talk.”  But now, as she headed to the back yard, she wondered if Deanna knew more about the state of Kathryn’s emotions than she’d let on.

As she headed down the steps of the back porch to the patch of freshly-tilled ground where Gretchen, Matt, and Chakotay were still poring over the handwritten garden plan, Phoebe hoped that Deanna *did* know something.  And that it was a good something.

“Hey, babe, what’s up?  You feeling okay?” Matt asked.  He had seen Phoebe approaching with a serious look on her face.

Phoebe smiled at her overly-cautious husband and replied, “Yes, I am fine.  And so is Biscuit.”

Chakotay looked up and asked, “Biscuit?”

“We wanted a name for this little one, and since we aren’t going to find out the gender ahead of time, we don’t want to use any of the ‘real’ names we’ve considered,” Matt answered as he kissed his wife on the cheek and placed a hand on her belly.

Chakotay looked at Gretchen and repeated, “Biscuit?”

Gretchen chuckled and said, “Somebody said something about Phoebe having a bun in the oven.”

“We don’t really like ‘buns’,” Matt added.

“But we do like biscuits,” Phoebe finished.  Then she turned to her mother.

“Mom, Kathryn is here.  She wants to talk with you and me.  She wants to talk about Justin and Daddy.”

------------

Kathryn was in her father’s study looking at a stack of plain booklets.  There were dozens of them, all with the name of the ship and a stardate range on their spines.  They were Edward Janeway’s unofficial personal logs.  He had recorded audio personal logs while he served in Starfleet, just like everyone else.  But he had also kept handwritten notes on many of his missions.

Kathryn had asked him about this when she was at the academy.  She knew that Starfleet discouraged that kind of notetaking, it could be a security risk.

“Why do you need anything other than your recorded logs?” she’d asked him.

Edward had shaken his head and replied, “Audio recordings can be manipulated.  This is my handwriting.  This is me.  These are my memories.”

As she stared at the stacks of her father’s memories, Kathryn wondered if she would ever find the courage to read what he’d written.  She knew his official mission records backwards and forwards.  But like Edward had said, those booklets were more – they were “him.”

For the first time since he had died, she thought she might be getting close to the point she could read them.  She wasn’t there yet … but she was so much closer than she’d ever been.

“Katie?  I didn’t think we would see you today, I thought you had plans with Dr. Crusher.”

Kathryn turned around to see her mother and sister walking in.  They both looked serious.  And a little anxious.

“Hi, mom,” Kathryn said.  She walked over to give her mother a long, reassuring hug.  Gretchen hung on tightly.  She loved this daughter of hers so much, and despite Phoebe’s quick explanation of her own suspicions and conversation with Deanna Riker, she couldn’t help but be afraid of what the next couple of hours might bring.

Phoebe closed the study door, and the three women sat down.  They were quiet for a while.

Finally Kathryn said, “Well, since I called this meeting … mom, I need to ask you about something you told me a few months ago.  You said that I had decided to make Justin the ‘love of my life.’  What did you mean by that?”

Gretchen took a deep breath and replied, “I’m not really sure how to answer you.”

Kathryn shook her head and said, “You told me that I decided to make him the love of my life – you didn’t say that he *was* the love of my life, you said I decided he was.  And the way you said it, it sounded like you thought I did this after he and daddy died.  Is that what you were saying?”

After a moment, Gretchen said, “Yes, it’s what I was saying.  And, yes, honey, that’s what you did.”

Kathryn pondered that for a little bit, then asked, “And you said you and daddy didn’t think Justin and I were meant for each other, not in the long term?  You both thought it would have ended?”

“Yes.”

The three women sat without speaking for another moment or two, with the only sound coming from the ancient, hand-held tiller being used by Matt and Chakotay in the back.

Kathryn stood and went to look out the window, her arms crossed.  She turned back to look at her mother.

“So I didn’t love Justin?” she asked.  There was no anger or challenge in her voice, she was asking the question like she might have once asked Tuvok for the mineral makeup of a passing comet.

Phoebe then spoke up, asking, “What do you remember about your feelings for him?”

Smiling a little, Kathryn answered, “He rescued me.”

“And after that?” Phoebe continued.

“He … loved me.  He wanted to take care of me.  He was so brave, so smart, so kind,” Kathryn replied.

Phoebe looked at Gretchen and raised her eyebrows.

“Katie,” Gretchen said softly, “All of those things are true.  But they don’t answer your sister’s question.  What do you remember about *your feelings* for Justin?”

“I was going to marry him.  I loved him.”

Gretchen shook her head and said, “No, you just stated an action you planned to take and then supplied a justification.  You still haven’t answered the question.”

Kathryn opened her mouth to speak, then closed it.  She seemed to be at a loss.

“Matt makes things fun for me that shouldn’t be fun,” Phoebe said.  

The other two women looked at her.

“I hate dealing with laundry.  Whenever we have a bunch of clean clothes to fold and put away, he jumps in to help.  Then he and I start competing to see who can come up with the most artistic way to fold shirts.  And towels.  We make ‘towel origami.’  We end up laughing more than anything.  Now I kind of love doing laundry.”

Phoebe put her hand on her stomach and smiled.

“I love this baby the minute I knew it existed.  But I liked him or her long before Matt and I even married.  I knew that a person that came from the two of us would be a very, very interesting person.  That’s when I knew I wanted to marry him, when I realized how badly I wanted to meet this child that would be part Matt, part me.  How I couldn’t imagine making a baby with anyone else.”

She looked at her mother and smiled.

“When I met Matt, I felt that … energy … that I used to always see between you and daddy.  Like the two of you fueled one another in a way no one else every could – humor and affection and love and desire and sacrifice and patience and peace.  When I was a teenager, I knew what the two of you had was unique.  And I remembered thinking I would have given just about anything in the world to have what you had.”

Unexpectedly, Phoebe made a sound like a sob, and tears came to her eyes.

“I found it, mom.  I found it with Matt.  And I am so grateful.”

Gretchen walked over to her younger daughter and leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

“I am so glad, my sweet girl,” the mother said.  Then she looked at her older daughter and asked, “What did you feel for Justin, Katie?  There is nothing wrong with being honest about it.”

Kathryn stared at her sister.  

What had she felt for Justin?  She racked her brain, trying to remember.

Affection.  Gratitude.  Awe.  Friendship.  Desire.  Respect.

Kathryn suddenly remembered the late-night conversation she’d had with Deanna Riker in France.

“(W)as I totally and completely myself when I was with him?  Did I feel safe to be myself, all facets of myself, with Justin?  I don’t know.”

“I have called Justin ‘the love of my life’ for a long time.  But I don’t know that he was. I know my mother questions it.  When … when I try to remember my feelings for him, I remember the feelings of a girl.”

Kathryn lowered herself slowly back into her chair.

“I didn’t love him?  I didn’t love Justin?” she asked her mother weakly.

“That’s not what I said, Katie,” Gretchen replied.  “You can love a person very much and not belong with them.  You can love someone and have a romantic relationship with him, and he still might not be the love of your life.”

“Is that what you and daddy were going to tell me?” Kathryn asked.

Gretchen sighed and said, “Something like that.  I think … I think we thought that you were trying too hard to be in love with him.  It wasn’t something that appeared to come easily to you.  And you were changing, your priorities were changing, and it seemed to be part of an attempt to turn yourself into someone else.  Someone who made more sense for Justin.  We didn’t like it.  We loved you for the person you were and were growing into, we didn’t want you changing course so radically just to make that relationship seem like a better idea.”

Kathryn didn’t know how to describe how she felt hearing these things.  She wasn’t surprised, so she must have already known all of this on some level.  But there was something more to this, she was sure of it, and it made her queasy to approach it.

She stood up again and went to the window, looking towards the garden plot to see Chakotay.  It would make her feel better.

Then the conversation she had with Seven a few weeks ago jumped into her mind.  The young woman had told her what Chakotay had said about his feelings for Kathryn.

“I think this is the part of love that you will never be able to quantify, Seven.  With Kathryn, I just feel …  more.  The things that are good are better.  The things I enjoy, I enjoy more with her.  I laugh more with Kathryn than anyone I’ve ever known.  Food tastes better, the sky is bluer, all of the clichés from all the love songs come alive.”

Kathryn knew without a doubt she felt those things for Chakotay.  She had no memory of feeling them with Justin.

“Then why did I decide he was the love of my life?” she asked, turning back to her mother and sister.

Phoebe looked down at her hands.  Gretchen walked over to Kathryn and placed her hands on her daughter’s shoulders.

“Think about when you started saying that,” she replied, “and the ‘why’ should become clear.”

Kathryn looked up at the ceiling, as though her memories might be found and read there.  They couldn’t.  When *had* she started using those words to describe Justin?  She couldn’t remember, she was trying to think of that time long ago and her thoughts from then were so jumbled, she ….

“It was at the memorial service,” Phoebe said.

Kathryn looked at her sister.

Phoebe continued, “It was at the service.  In front of all the assembled rangers and Starfleet officers.  It stuck out to me because I had never heard you refer to him like that.  I never even heard you say you loved him until after you were engaged.  So when you called him the love of your life at his service, it stuck out.  I thought maybe you were letting your grief talk, that it was some way to memorialize him.  But then in the days after, you kept calling him that.  It was like you made a decision and you were going to stick with it.”

Gretchen added, “Even when you were with Mark, I heard you refer to Justin that way.  That’s why I knew it wasn’t serious between the two of you.  You were still willing to claim that, and Mark was willing to let it lie.”

“I still don’t understand the significance of the timing,” Kathryn said with frustration, walking away from her mother.  “Why would I have decided he was the love of my life *after* he died?  To punish myself for letting him die?”

“You didn’t ‘let’ him die,” Gretchen said sharply.

“Of course I did, mom!” Kathryn snapped back.  “I could have saved one of them, but I couldn’t choose, so I tried to save both of them, and they both died.  *I* did that, mom.”

“You couldn’t choose between who?” Phoebe asked.

“Between my father and my fiancé,” Kathryn shouted.

“Between daddy and the love of your life?” Phoebe shouted back.

“YES!” Kathryn boomed in response.

Phoebe got up and stood directly in front of her sister.

“And if Justin wasn’t the love of your life, what does that mean about what you did?  What does that mean about your choice?” she demanded.

Kathryn stared at her, her mouth open.

“WHAT DOES IT MEAN, KATHRYN?!?!?” Phoebe screamed.

Kathryn continued to stare at Phoebe.  Then her face went white, and she raised a hand to cover her mouth.

“Oh, God,” she choked out.

Phoebe’s face changed instantly – no longer confrontational, she appeared full of sympathy and understanding.  She reached for her sister, but Kathryn stumbled backwards away from her.

“Oh, God, no,” Kathryn repeated, her eyes filling with tears.

Gretchen approached Kathryn carefully and gently said, “Katie, it’s okay.”

But Kathryn looked wildly between her mother and her sister, continuing to back away from them.  When she bumped into her father’s desk, she leaned back to try and put more distance between herself and these two women who loved her.

Finally, Kathryn said, “I killed him, I killed daddy.  I killed daddy,” and she began to sob.  She collapsed against the desk and slid to the floor.

Phoebe and Gretchen immediately went to the floor, too, each one on either side of Kathryn.  Each one embraced her, and the three women rocked together gently.  They sat like that for several minutes, Kathryn trembling violently and Gretchen and Phoebe quietly weeping.

Eventually, they quieted.  Gretchen and Phoebe let go of Kathryn and sat on the floor looking at her.  Kathryn continued to look down, not meeting either of their eyes.

Eventually, Kathryn said in a low voice, “I don’t know how either of you can stand to be in the same room with me.”

“Oh, honey,” Gretchen said.  “Of course we can be in the same room with you, we love you.”

“How can you when you know I killed your husband and father?” Kathryn asked quietly.

“Because you didn’t,” Phoebe answered.

Kathryn looked up, confusion all over her face.

“How can you say that, Phoebe?  I could have transported him out.  I could have saved him.  But I couldn’t decide between my father, the most important man in my life, and the guy I was sleeping with.  How can you not hate me for that?”

Phoebe shook her head and replied, “That’s not how it happened.”

Shaking her head, Kathryn shot a look at her sister and said, “I was there, that’s how it happened.”

Gretchen took her older daughter’s hand and said, “You have the basic facts correct.  But your interpretation of them is distorted.  Your injuries and your guilt have turned your memories into something twisted and wrong.”

Bewildered, Kathryn asked, “How so?”

“Katie, you were so badly injured in that accident.  The people at Starfleet Medical never understood how you regained consciousness, much less how you had sufficient awareness to try and construct that transporter. They believe you probably passed out several times in the effort.”

“But it worked, mom, and I failed to use it to save daddy.  For no good reason,” Kathryn countered.

“No, that’s your guilt talking,” Gretchen replied.  “You continued working on it because you saw your task as saving them both, and the task wasn’t finished.  It wouldn’t have mattered who was in that shuttle, on that day, under those circumstances, you would have acted the same way.  It could have been me and a total stranger in there, and it would have ended the same.”

Gretchen sighed and continued.

“Such immediate decisions about life and death weren’t supposed to be yours so soon, that’s why they require captains to lead dangerous away teams before they let them be captains.  You were so early in your career, you hadn’t had to make the terrible decision to save one person over another.  Despite the training they give you as cadets, that’s not something you can learn in the abstract, you have to experience it.  Your learning experience was the death of your father and your fiancé.”

“You are saying I wasn’t capable of making the choice?  But mom, it was *daddy*.  How could I have not chosen him?” Kathryn asked.

“You were still young enough and idealistic enough back then to believe that you could put your mind to just about anything and make it happen,” Gretchen replied.  “And you had always been a girl who fought for life, for all life.  Every spring, you would find a nest of abandoned baby squirrels, or a litter of kittens whose mother had been killed.  You fought for every single life equally hard.  You spared no effort to preserve every life.  And you always saved them all.”

“I didn’t save daddy,” Kathryn whispered.

“It wasn’t your job to save daddy,” Phoebe said.  “It was an incredible miracle you lived.  And if he had lived, too, then that would have been a miracle.  But it’s not your fault he didn’t live, or Justin.”

 Kathryn’s mind was spinning.  She was questioning her memories of the accident, her memories of Justin.

Justin.

“I made Justin the love of my life because it was the only way I could rationalize not choosing between the two of them,” Kathryn said listlessly.

Phoebe and Gretchen both nodded.

“Mom,” Kathryn said, “how long have you known this?”

“A long time.”

They sat quietly on the floor for another few moments, then Kathryn spoke again.

“Why do you think all of this is coming up now?”

Gretchen was finally able to smile again.  She said, “Because you finally met the *actual* love of your life.  I imagine your subconscious has been wrestling with this for a while.  Part of you knows that Chakotay is your love, but for that to be the case, you would have to acknowledge that Justin wasn’t.  And you weren’t ready to face what that meant.”

Kathryn leaned against the base of her father’s desk.

“Chakotay can be the love of my life,” she mused.  “And if my love didn’t kill Justin and daddy, then my love might not kill him.”

She looked at her mother and said, “That’s the last barrier.  That’s the fear that’s stayed with me.  I guess … I guess I love him enough to confront this?  Is that what’s happened?”

Gretchen shrugged and smiled.

After a few more moments of quiet, Phoebe spoke again.

“Katie, you know I love you, right?  That I want to sit here and talk to you as long as you need?”

Kathryn nodded.

“The problem is, I really need to pee.”

Kathryn’s eyes widened and she said, “Oh, Phoebe, you’re pregnant, I’m so sorry.  Please, go to the bathroom.”

Gretchen and Kathryn both stood to help Phoebe up, and then Phoebe hurried to the hallway bathroom.

“Are you going to be okay, honey?” Gretchen asked.

“I …,” Kathryn began, then she went silent.  She wiped tears from her face and continued, “I think so, mom.  But I need some air.  I think I’ll go for a walk.  Would you tell Chakotay ….”

Then Kathryn stopped and tilted her head thoughtfully.  She turned back to Gretchen.

“Does Chakotay know about all of this?” she asked.

Gretchen nodded slowly and said, “Yes, Owen told him.”

“Owen knows?” Kathryn asked in surprise.

“He figured it out,” Gretchen responded.  “He’s always cared a great deal for you, and Edward had asked him to look out for you and Phoebe if anything ever happened to him.  He came to see me once, to compare notes.  He was like me, he didn’t know if we should confront it with you.”

Kathryn nodded and said, “I think it was the best it came about like this.  That I had a reason to ask the questions.  A good reason.”

“A good reason with cute dimples,” Gretchen offered.

Kathryn smirked, then sighed.

“I’m going for a walk.  I’ll be back before the sun goes down.”

------------

Gretchen and Phoebe filled Chakotay in on the talk they’d had with Kathryn.  He was relieved the revelations had not been as destructive to Kathryn’s well-being as he’d feared.  That said, he really wanted to go find her to make sure she was okay.

“No, Chakotay, I think you need to let her be for a little bit,” Gretchen said.

“I don’t know, Gretchen, are you sure?” Chakotay asked.

Phoebe replied, “I agree with mom.  Katie really had figured out a lot of this on her own already, which is good.  Now she needs to resolve the rest of it on her own, too.  Let her do that, let her come to you having taken down the last barrier herself.  Let her come to you whole.”

Chakotay reluctantly agreed and returned to the garden.

An hour or so later, with the sun beginning to set, Kathryn wandered back to the house.  Her face still bore the marks of tears, but her eyes looked peaceful.  Phoebe and Matt, sitting on the front porch, nodded at her as she pointed towards the back yard.

As Kathryn rounded the house, she looked up towards her mother’s bedroom window. Gretchen was there, looking curiously at her daughter.  Kathryn smiled at her and placed her hand over her heart.  Gretchen smiled and pulled the shade.

Chakotay was in the barn.  Kathryn approached the barn entrance and heard water running.  She leaned against the door to watch Chakotay cleaning up after his day in the garden.

He had taken off his shirt, left on his jeans.  He was leaned over at the waist using water from a hose to rinse off his arms, neck, face, and hair.  The orange light of the setting sun was shining through the doors and windows and catching on the drops of water on his skin.  He appeared to be glowing.

The dust and sweat he was washing off were from a day’s work done for her mother.  His jeans were probably going to need to be washed with water, not just sent to the refresher – they were covered in the muddy soil he and Matt had turned over as they worked together, getting to know one another.  

He was earth and the setting sun, in one marvelous form.

“This man,” Kathryn thought.

She saw a towel and shirt sitting on a work table nearby.  When Chakotay turned shut off the water and turned to the table, Kathryn was standing there holding the towel.

Chakotay ran his hands over his face and hair to shake loose some of water, then said, “Kathryn ….”

She walked towards him with the towel and said, “Can I give you a hand there, handsome?”

He smiled and nodded.

She approached him and reached for his left hand, pulling it and his arm away from his body.  She used the towel to wipe away the still-glowing beads of water.  She walked around behind him, still dragging the towel along his skin, wiping down his left shoulder.  Once behind him, she covered both her hands with the fluffy cloth and rubbed up and down his back.  Grabbing and standing on a nearby stool, she ran her towel-covered hands up to his neck, into his hair, back down by his ears, down the sides of his neck, and back onto his shoulders.  

Stepping off the stool, she dried the sides of his torso.  When the got close to the tops of his jeans, she smiled.  There was a little bit of flabbiness there – nothing too noticeable, but it was there.  

It was imperfection.  She adored it.

Walking around him, she dried his right arm, then ran the towel up and down his chest.  When she reached his face, he took the towel from her and finished the job. 

She reached over to the table and grabbed the shirt laying there, an old plaid button-down.  It might have been Edward’s, Kathryn didn’t know.  The blue and the gray of the plaid would be beautiful on Chakotay, though, she thought.  

He took the shirt and slipped it on.  Yep, it was beautiful.

“Kathryn, are you all right?” Chakotay asked, great concern on his face.  He reached for her hand.

She smiled at him and said, “Let’s go sit by my tree and talk.”

Hand-in-hand, they walked behind the barn to her oak tree.  They took a seat at the base.

Still holding Chakotay’s hand, Kathryn took a deep breath and said, “I’m okay, Chakotay.  I really am, I’m okay.”

Chakotay let go of her hand and pulled her to him.  She relished the feeling of closeness.

He kissed the top of her head and asked, “Do you want to talk about it.”

“I guess,” she answered.  “I know you already know most of it.  Did mom and Phoebe tell you about our talk?”

“They did.”

Kathryn quietly toyed with the buttons on Chakotay’s shirt.  After a moment, she began speaking again.

“It really is amazing the games we will play with ourselves, the half-truths we will convince ourselves are true because *actual* truth is too hard to face.  I had – and if I’m honest, still have – all these feelings of guilt over my father’s death.  I’ve felt so guilty, for so long.  And I’ve been punishing myself for so long.”

Chakotay stroked her back and said, “It used to frustrate the hell out of me on Voyager, seeing all the guilt you carried.  I used to think you liked it, that you had some sort of martyr complex.  It wasn’t until you told me about your father and Justin that I understood.  You took all the blame you could because you thought you deserved it.”

He added wryly, “A masochist can always spot similar habits in another, I guess.”

Kathryn replied, “I know I haven’t cornered the market on guilt.  Your feelings of guilt about your parents’ deaths loomed over your life for a long time.  Those feelings came from the fact you weren’t there when the Cardassians attacked, and your parents died.  How many nights did you lie awake for imagining what you might have done to save them?  You told me it was years.  And how long did it take you to accept that it wasn’t your fault, that you weren’t there and couldn’t have done anything?”

She sighed and continued, “The thing is, I *was* there.  I could have done something.  My father could have lived.  But I was so convinced of my own infallibility that not only did I let him die, I let Justin die, too.”

Kathryn leaned back a little to look at Chakotay.

“What would you have done in a similar situation, Chakotay?  What if you had been on Dorvan when they attack happened, and you had the chance to save one of your parents?  Who would you have taken?”

The question hit Chakotay in his gut.

“Kathryn … I don’t know.  I don’t even want to imagine that.  I mean, I used to dream of saving them – of how it might have been if I had never gone to the Academy and had been there for the fight.  I dreamed it in my sleep and fantasized it during the day.  I could envision myself as a hero, saving my parents.  I could see myself saving them and dying in the attempt.  But I never imagined saving one of them.  That’s because a choice like that is impossible.  No one should be called to make it, not ever.”

Kathryn nodded slightly in his arms.

“Mom says I couldn’t make the choice because I refused to believe it was impossible to save them both.  That it was in my nature to try and save all lives, not just one.”

“I can see that,” Chakotay replied.  “You have never been one to just accept death until it’s certain – and sometimes not even then.  I mean, you actually died in the Delta Quadrant, in my arms, and you didn’t accept it.”

“That doesn’t strike you as incredibly arrogant?” Kathryn asked.  “For me to have gone through my life acting as though death has no claim over me or those I love, that doesn’t seem overconfident to the point of dangerous?”

Chakotay shook his head and replied, “But that’s not how you have behaved.  You respect death, you don’t thumb your nose at it.  You don’t act as though it has no claim over you, just the opposite – you fight it like hell because you know its cost.  And that fight is how we got home, and why we got home with so many of our people still with us.”

Kathryn was quiet for a while, then she said softly, “Mom and Phoebe say they don’t believe I killed daddy.  I think my brain is starting to get there.  It will be a while before my heart catches up.”

Holder her tighter, Chakotay kissed Kathryn on the top of her head.

“I agree with Gretchen and Phoebe.  And your heart will get there.”

They sat in silence a while longer.  The sunlight was almost gone, but neither made any move to get up.  

Finally, Chakotay asked, “Do you want to talk about Justin?”

Kathryn didn’t respond for a while.  Then she took a deep breath and said, “Yes.”  She tuned in Chakotay’s arms until she was in his lap, with her shoulder leaning against her tree.

She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped.  She got an odd look on her face as though some new thought had just popped into her mind, and she wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“Kathryn?” Chakotay prompted.

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking around.  “It just occurred to me, I never sat under this tree with Justin.  We never sat like this and talked.  I don’t know that I’ve ever actually thought about that.”

“I thought he spent a fair amount of time here with you and your family,” Chakotay replied.

Kathryn nodded and said, “He did, but at the house, he never wanted to come out here.  He ….”

Her voice trailed off, then her eyes got wide.

“Oh, I can’t believe I had forgotten this.  He wouldn’t come out here with me because he hated trees!  I can’t believe I didn’t remember, he couldn’t stand trees.  It drove me batty.”

“Didn’t like trees?” Chakotay asked incredulously.  “Why … how does a person not like trees?”

“It was strange, I’ll grant you,” Kathryn said with a slight chuckle.  Then her face clouded a bit as she remembered more.

“Justin was never around trees as a boy.  He grew up in a mining colony located inside a hunk of rock that could barely support life.  His living quarters, his school, his family’s work were all underground.  The few times a year he went to the surface, he saw the night skies and stars.  That was all he knew.  He told me once that he nearly quit the Academy his first week because of all the noise.  I thought he meant the noise of the cadet dormitories.  But he was talking about the trees outside his window and all over campus.”

“Trees don’t make noise, Kathryn.”

“Not to you, or to me,” she replied.  “But it was all he could hear, apparently – the leaves rustling in the breeze, branches creaking and cracking during a storm.  Think of all the noises made by animals that live in trees – birds and squirrels and the like.  You and I might find that peaceful, Justin didn’t.  He grew up in a place where the noises that helped him fall sleep were mechanized.  The ‘noise’ of nature was not comforting to him.”

Chakotay leaned his head back against the tree. 

“I can’t imagine having no relationship with nature.  And I can’t imagine you that way, either – you said it ‘drove you batty,’ was this an issue between the two of you?”

“You know, it was,” Kathryn said with another shake of her head.  “That’s another thing I am amazed I had forgotten about.  I tried to get him to go camping once – not *your* kind of camping, of course, I was shooting for something a little less survivalist and a little more ‘naked in a sleeping bag.’  He just refused.  Wouldn’t even consider it.  We didn’t speak for three days.  I can’t even count how many times we fought about spending time outside.”

After a moment, Chakotay hesitantly said, “Kathryn, this doesn’t sound as fairy tale as I always thought your relationship with Justin was.”

“It wasn’t a fairy tale,” Kathryn admitted.  “I don’t really know what it was – I’ve tried to remember.  Phoebe asked me to recall my feelings for him, and … it’s hard.  I remember flashes of affection and desire, and maybe something akin to love.  I just don’t know.  I was so young, just a girl.  I have a hard time believing I convinced myself I was in love with my rescuer, but that might have been it.”

She sighed and said, “It’s kind of unsettling to realize you may have unconsciously decided to turn your own life into a cliché.”

Chakotay began, “That seems a little harsh …” but Kathryn continued.

“Just because it’s harsh doesn’t mean it’s not true.  Owen and I had been in that Cardassian prison for days when Justin flew in to save the day – he really did rescue us and save our lives.  And like he was Captain Proton and I was Constance Goodheart, I swooned and fell for him.  Or maybe I tried to.  Maybe I thought it made such a great ending to the worst storyline of my life that decided to make it my fairy tale, whether or not it was a good fit.”

“It’s not like he was completely unsuitable,” Chakotay said.  “Everything I hear about him is positive – smart, dedicated, and so on.  Your mother cared for him a great deal.”

Tilting her head so it rested against the tree near his, Kathryn replied softly, “She did.  But she also didn’t think he and I would have made it if he had lived.  When I talked with her and Phoebe, they were pushing me to remember my relationship with Justin honestly.  I don’t think I ever did that before today.”

Chakotay took a deep breath and said, “I hate to say it, Kathryn, but … oh, I have been so jealous of Justin.  I felt like he was this perfect, ideal Starfleet icon that I suffered so much in comparison to.  I didn’t see any way you could love me, having loved him.”

Kathryn replied quickly, “But you know now, that’s not how it was.  He may have been ideal for Starfleet, but he wasn’t my ideal, not really.”

She reached across their bodies with her right had to grab Chakotay’s left, and they intertwined their fingers.

“Mom and Phoebe said I decided Justin was the love of my life *after* he and daddy died.  They say I couldn’t handle to guilt of not saving daddy, so I elevated Justin in my memory.  It gave me cover for not choosing over the other, and it also punished me.  I sentenced myself to a life of more guilt, and no love.”

“No love, huh?” Chakotay whispered.

“Yeah,” Kathryn whispered back.  “By creating this narrative where I allowed ‘the love of my life’ to die, I declared myself undeserving of love.  And I made myself unsafe for any man to love.  Even you, Chakotay.”

She pulled away from the tree a bit and looked at him.

“Do you remember the first time you and I sat here, the night that you talked with me about Dorvan?  I think that was the first night I allowed myself to love you.  And the very next day, do you know what I told my mother?  I told her I was afraid that by loving you, I would lose you.  Because that’s who I decided I was, a woman who kills the men she loves.  That was my punishment.”

Chakotay looked at their intertwined fingers, then at Kathryn.

“Do you still believe that?” he asked.

Kathryn smiled at him affectionately and said, “In my mind, no.  My heart is trying to catch up.  It’s going to be a chore, though, Chakotay, and I am going to need you to be patient with me.  The more I love you, the harder the fear is trying to hang on.”

“Well, as I recall, you not only defeated Death in the Delta Quadrant, you also defeated Fear.  So you know this is a fight you can win,” he replied.

“With help,” she responded.

Chakotay leaned over to kiss the tip of Kathryn’s nose and said, “I will give you all the help I can, my Kathryn, all you need do is tell me what you need and when.”

Kathryn replied, “Oh, you have already helped so much.  Without you, I couldn’t have finally examined these supposed truths at the heart of me – that Justin was the love of my life.  That I killed him and my father because I wasn’t good enough.  That because I wasn’t good enough, I had to spend the rest of my life holding myself to an impossible standard.  That if I ever allowed anything to get in the way of that standard, something terrible would happen.  And that if I ever truly loved again, something terrible would happen.”

She looked up at Chakotay and said, “I don’t think I knew most of that was in my head, at least not like that.  I don’t think I knew how much I was ruled by those ideas.”

Chakotay said nothing, just held her tighter.

“Nothing in my life ever made me question those thoughts.  Not until recently.”

“Phoebe said she thought you had started figuring it out on your own.  I guess time is a healer,” Chakotay said softly.

Kathryn smiled and said, “Time helps.  But it wasn’t time that made me rethink it all.  It was you.”

She untangled herself from his arms and sat up.  She wanted to look him in the eye.

“Chakotay,” Kathryn said softly, “I couldn’t accept my failure to save my father, so I changed the nature of my relationship with Justin in my mind – it both excused my failure and punished me for it.  That elaborate fiction all depended on the notion that Justin was the love of my life.  But it all fell apart for one reason, because of one thing.  Do you know what it is?”

Chakotay, hypnotized by her voice, shook his head.

Kathryn took his hand into both of hers and kissed it.  Then she held it to her heart and looked at him.

“Justin couldn’t be the love of my life because you are.”

Chakotay’s breath caught.  She was looking at him with pure love, complete honesty.  She was saying it.  She was saying the thing he never thought she would, that he felt he had no right to ask of her.  He couldn’t believe it.

Seeing the disbelief in his eyes and smiling a little, Kathryn reached up to touch Chakotay’s forehead.

“The love of my life has a beautiful tattoo that tells the world who he is,” she said softly.  “How about that.”

“Justin was not the love of your life,” Chakotay repeated.

“He was not.  He was a good man I cared for a great deal, and one to whom I owe my life.  But he was not the love of it,” Kathryn replied.

“And you did not kill him or your father?” Chakotay asked.

Kathryn took as deep breath and said, “I did not.  I know that.  But I need patience.”

“Which I have plenty of,” Chakotay replied.  Then he asked, “So, what does this mean for you, Kathryn?”

Her smile began slowly, the corners of her mouth turning up a little then widening.  After a few seconds, she had on the widest smile Chakotay could ever remember seeing her with.

“That it’s okay for me to love you.  That it’s okay for me to be happy, with you.  I get to be happy, Chakotay.”

“That’s all I want for you,” Chakotay breathed.

Kathryn shifted in his lap again to where she was facing him.

“And you are not a traitor or a terrorist,” she said.

“I am not,” Chakotay replied.

“And you are one of the finest Starfleet officers I have ever met,” Kathryn added.

“You are very kind,” he said with a smile.

“Most of all, you are a man with a history, a man with roots and wings, and a man of honor.  You are a man your mother and father would be immensely proud of,” Kathryn said with a new intensity.  

She continued, “So what does a man like that get?”

Now it was Chakotay’s turn to smile

“I guess he gets a chance to be happy,” he answered.

Kathryn nodded and said, “He does.  He gets to be happy.”

“*WE* get to be happy,” Chakotay countered.

“We get to be happy,” Kathryn repeated.

They looked at each other for a few more seconds, then both started laughing.  There was no reason to laugh, other than the all-encompassing delight of the moment.

Kathryn calmed first. 

“So let me make this absolutely clear.  Chakotay, son of Kolopak, professor of anthropology, Captain, and citizen of the Federation, I love you.  *You* are the love of my life – no one else, just *you*.  You are the man who inspires and challenges me, the man whose company I crave every minute of every day.  You are the answer to every wish I’ve ever made.  You are the dream come true for the girl I was, and the woman I’ve become.  You are the man I want to laugh with, be silent with, hell, even argue with.  The man I can’t wait to make love to one day in the very near future.  You are the love of my life, Chakotay.  I only hope I can come close to giving you what you have given me.”

Chakotay felt himself shaking.  In all the years of loving her, he never thought he would hear anything like this from Kathryn.  He began to tear up.

“You are … you’re saying this to me.  You’re actually saying it.  I can’t … part of me can’t believe it,” he said in wonder.

“Hey, handsome man, look at me,” she said – again, she wanted to see his eyes.  He looked at her expectantly.

“It’s gone, Chakotay,” she said.  “The last barrier between us is gone.”

Chapter Text

Gretchen woke up to the sound of thunder and heavy rain.  She wasn’t thrilled with the wake-up call.  

She’d gone to bed later than normal.  After Kathryn had come home and gone to find Chakotay, Gretchen had joined Phoebe and Matt downstairs for a light dinner.  After that couple left, Gretchen waited for Kathryn and Chakotay to come in.

They never did.  

At one point, curiosity got the better of her and she had walked quietly to the barn.  She wasn’t entirely certain what she was going to find.  Gretchen assumed the conversation between Kathryn and Chakotay had gone well – if it hadn’t, one of them would have told her, she was sure of that.

But if it had gone well ….

“I cannot walk in on my daughter having sex in the barn,” Gretchen had thought to herself, and she stopped walking.

She’d stood still for a moment with her eyes closed trying to determine her next move.  That was when she’d heard music.

She opened her eyes and peered in the barn.  She could see the portable comm unit they kept in the barn sitting on the ground at the doorway on the north end of the building.

Gretchen had walked to that end of the barn and she heard singing.  It was coming from the comm unit, and from the outside.

She’d gone to one of the northern windows and peered outside.  

Kathryn and Chakotay were standing under the oak tree – not standing, no, they were dancing.  They were embracing and swaying to the music.  And both of them were singing.

Gretchen had smiled to herself and gone back in.  All was good.

Now it was the next morning.  As she passed her daughter’s room, she saw that the door was open and the bed not slept in.

“Maybe they did stay in the barn,” Gretchen thought.

When she got downstairs, though, she spotted something on the couch.

Stretched out in the previous day’s dirty jeans and an old, clean shirt of Edward’s was Captain Chakotay.  Handsome, with a huge smile on his face, and a thin line of drool falling from the corner of his mouth.  He was dead asleep.

Laying snuggled up next to him in her uniform pants and turtleneck was Admiral Kathryn Janeway.  Her hair was all over the place, and her lips were moving as she talked nonsense in her sleep.

Gretchen smiled at the couple indulgently, then she walked over to get a better look.  She was trying to remember the last time Kathryn looked so peaceful.

“Not since she was a little girl,” the elder Janeway thought.  Then, with a catch in her throat, she sat on the edge of the coffee table to watch her child sleep.

As a toddler, Kathryn had been absorbed by the magic of the every day.   She had been an early reader and had taken great joy in reading out loud to her parents after she had mastered a new book.  She loved life on the farm, watching the daily changes in plants and trees and animals.  She could sit for hours watching the stream at the back of their property, staring at tadpoles, and fish, and rocks that sparkled under the flow of the water.

When she would fall asleep at night, tired and sunburned, she did so looking satisfied.  As if the day she had just spent had been all she could have wanted.  She would mumble in her sleep, conversationally, perhaps talking to the tadpoles.

When she started school, Kathryn’s focus moved to “next” – the next accomplishment, the next problem, the next year.  She was always looking ahead, and her mind was always racing.  She would start a new school year and, within a week, know what classes she planned to take the next year.   She was two years away from high school graduation when she had her first year’s classes at the Academy picked out.

At that age, Kathryn still talked in her sleep.  Actually, Edward had called it “lecturing” in her sleep.  They never could understand her words, enunciation clearly not being a priority in Kathryn’s dream world.  But by the tone of her voice, they could tell she was debating in her dreams.  And winning those debates.

Gretchen sighed at the memory.  She and Edward used to love watching their girls sleep as teens – Kathryn’s mumbling and Phoebe’s sleep-painting entertained their parents enormously.

It was after Edward and Justin died that Kathryn’s sleep-mumbling turned to the past.  During the months Kathryn spent in Indiana after the accident, Gretchen caught her mumbling in her sleep occasionally.  The tone of her voice was pleading and desperate. 

It broke Gretchen’s heart.

That form of sleep mumbling from Kathryn lasted a long time.  Mark had even commented on it once at a family dinner, and Kathryn acted as though she had no idea what he was talking about. But Gretchen knew better.  Her daughter’s dreams had always left her wanting – wanting a future she couldn’t reach or a past she couldn’t change.

Listening to Kathryn’s soft mumbles now in the living room, Gretchen wondered if she had finally found her way back to dreaming of every day magic.  The content smile on her face, and the gentle tone of her voice gave her mother hope.

“You look as though you are afraid she might disappear,” Chakotay whispered.

Gretchen smiled at him and whispered back, “She has before.  My little girl disappeared into womanhood, the woman disappeared into duty and grief, and then the Delta Quadrant.  But looking at her now, I think she’s finally back.  Thank you, Chakotay.”

Chakotay smiled and replied, “You brought her back at least as much as I did.”

Gretchen just kissed her fingertips and pressed them to Chakotay and Kathryn’s clasped hands.

“Gretchen,” Chakotay said seriously.

“Yes?”

He looked at her intently for a moment then said, “I will give you a year’s salary for some brown sugar pancakes.”

Gretchen chuckled and stood up.  

“That and coffee, coming up.”

------------

After breakfast, Gretchen spent some time with Kathryn while Chakotay showered.

“How did the two of you end up on my couch like that?” she asked.

Kathryn, on her third cup of coffee, smiled.

“We sat under my tree for the longest time just talking.  Then just holding one another.  Breathing the same air.  I think we’d still be out there if we hadn’t seen lightning in the distance – I still don’t love thunderstorms.”

Gretchen grinned and said, “You can just tell Chakotay that it takes a force of nature to pull you from his arms.  Build up his ego, all men need that every now and then.”

Kathryn laughed and replied, “That same force of nature drove me right back into them.  We came inside, neither one really wanting to sleep.  So we sat up talking more – going back over old memories and past misunderstandings.  When the storms got worse, he felt me getting a little anxious.  So he stretched out on the couch and asked me to lay next to him and let him make me feel safe.”

She looked down at her coffee club for a second, then back up at her mother.

“And he did, mom,” Kathryn said with shining eyes.  “He made me feel safe.”

Gretchen leaned across the kitchen table to take Kathryn’s hand.

“Honey, I can see it in your face.  You’re happy, aren’t you?”

Kathryn smiled and said, “I am.  I am happy.  More importantly, I think he’s happy.  No, I know he is.”

Gretchen nodded and said, “He is.  You both are.”

When Kathryn went to shower, her mother sat Chakotay down.

“I am so happy for the two of you, Chakotay.  And I do mean the two of you – both of you.  I am happy for my daughter, no doubt about it.  But I am happy for you, young man.  You have become so dear to me, and it thrills me to see that look on your face.”

Chakotay smiled and ducked his head a little shyly.  He adored Gretchen’s mothering tendencies towards him – sometimes, it overwhelmed him.

“Thank you, Gretchen.”

Then he started chuckling.  When he didn’t stop, Gretchen asked him, “What is it?”

Shaking his head, Chakotay took a sip of tea then looked at Gretchen.

“I was just thinking back to that night in the hospital cafeteria, after Kathryn’s accident, when you asked me what my intentions towards Kathryn were.  I told you, and you told me it wouldn’t be easy.”

He chuckled again and added, “It’s definitely been interesting.”

Gretchen leaned back in her chair and eyed him.

“Back then, you told me you intend to marry her.  Is that still the case?”

Chakotay smiled mysteriously.

“Yes,  But that’s a discussion for later.  Right now, I want to enjoy the moment.”

“Focus on the magic of right now?” Gretchen queried.

“Exactly.” 

------------

The rain continued the rest of the day, and both Kathryn and Chakotay worked from the Indiana.  Chakotay worked on some edits to his Delta Quadrant text book, and Kathryn participated in a few committee meetings via comm.

After lunch, they made their way to the front porch swing.  There was no more lightening or thunder, just soft showers.  They were seated at opposite ends, their legs stretched out into each other’s laps.

Chakotay had gone to Kathryn’s childhood bedroom to pick out a book.  It was a book of classic poetry, and they were taking turns – one would read while the other would listen and massage the reader’s feet.  

Kathryn started with a favorite of hers, by Alexander Pushkin:

I still recall the wondrous moment:
When you appeared before my sight
As though a brief and fleeting omen,
Pure phantom in enchanting light.

In sorrow, when I felt unwell,
Caught in the bustle, in a daze,
I fell under your voice’s spell
And dreamt the features of your face.

Years passed and gales had dispelled
My former hopes, and in those days,
I lost your voice’s sacred spell,
The holy features of your face.

Detained in darkness, isolation,
My days began to drag in strife.
Without faith and inspiration,
Without tears, and love and life.

My soul attained its waking moment:
You re-appeared before my sight,
As though a brief and fleeting omen,
Pure phantom in enchanting light.

And now, my heart, with fascination,
Beats rapidly and finds revived
Devout faith and inspiration,
And tender tears and love and life.*

Chakotay saw her Pushkin and raised her a Walt Whitman:

Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I 
     look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, 
     (it comes to me, as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affection-
     ate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl 
     with me,
I ate with you, and slept with you—your body has 
     become not yours only, nor left my body mine 
     only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as 
     we pass—you take of my beard, breast, hands, 
     in return,
I am not to speak to you—I am to think of you when 
     I sit alone, or wake at night alone,
I am to wait—I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.**

When they raised the stakes to Shakespeare’s sonnets, they also moved on the swing to mimic how they had awakened that morning – stretched out, with Kathryn’s body resting on Chakotay’s.  Unfortunately, cuddling was not conducive to sustaining iambic pentameter.

So they went all in on the works of Barret Browning, Byron, and Neruda.  The timbre of the voice of the reader was a caress to the other.  The lips that were not reading out loud found their way to the other’s neck, hands, ears, etc.

Each was lost in the erotic fog of the moment, not thinking what would come next, not caring.  The words of men and women long dead, combined with the soothing sound of the rain, and the warmth and breath and scent of one another was all they needed.  

If *only* for that moment.

Any additional thoughts or plans or desires, however, had to be set aside.  Gretchen had come outside with a concerned look on her face.

“Owen Paris is on the comm.  He needs to talk to both of you.  He says it’s important.”

Chapter Text

When Kathryn and Chakotay spoke with Owen Paris on the comm, they were surprised to see him so relaxed and affable.  He didn’t look like he had anything important to say.

“So, are you two enjoying a day off in the heartland?” he asked with a smile.

“Uh, yes,” Kathryn replied.  She looked questioningly at her mother, who just shrugged.

“He said ‘important,’” Gretchen mouthed from the side of the comm, out of Owen’s view.

“Is everything all right?” Chakotay asked.

Owen waved his hand and said, “I’m sorry if worried Gretchen when I said it was important that I talk to you.  I guess you could say it’s important to me.  Tom and B’Elanna and Miral are coming over tomorrow night, and Julia has been after me to get some leola root recipe from you, something she’s heard Neelix used to make for Tom.  Do either of you have it?”

Gretchen noticed an almost imperceptible change in Kathryn and Chakotay’s demeanor.

Chakotay asked, “Which recipe are you looking for, Owen, the casserole or the stew?”

Owen furrowed his brow for a minute, then said, “You know, I don’t recall which one she wanted.  How about both of them?”

“I don’t have them here with me at mom’s,” Kathryn replied with a slight smile.  “Can I get them to you tonight?  We are planning to transport back to San Francisco in about four hours or so.”

Owen nodded and said, “That will be great, I’ll look for your comm later this evening!  My best to Gretchen!”  And he hung up.

Kathryn looked at Chakotay and asked, “I guess Tom told him.  My place?”

He nodded and replied, “Probably the safest.  I’ll get my things while you explain this to your mother.”

Chakotay walked out and Kathryn turned to her stern-looking mother.

“I assume that conversation wasn’t about leola root,” Gretchen said evenly.

“No, it wasn’t,” Kathryn replied with a shake of her head.  “When Voyager got back, the senior staff were all concerned about what kind of reception we would get from Starfleet.  We developed a sort of code for when we needed to speak with one another without Starfleet listening.  If you ask for a ‘leola root recipe’ of any kind, it means you need to speak with someone outside of normal channels.”

“Do you think my comm line is being monitored?” Gretchen asked with concern.

“I have your house checked for monitoring once a week, mom,” Kathryn assured her, “but nothing is ever 100% certain.  We devised the whole ‘leola root recipe’ code out of an abundance of caution.”

Gretchen sighed, then said, “So Owen was saying he needs to talk to you.”

“He was saying he needs to talk to both of us – he asked if either Chakotay or me had the recipe,” Kathryn explained as she gathered the padds she had strewn about the room earlier.  Then she left the office to join Chakotay in the living room.

Gretchen followed.

“Why did Chakotay ask which recipe he wanted?” she asked.

“Because we needed to know more about what he wants us to do next,” Chakotay answered as he entered the living room.

“I asked him if he wanted a recipe for the casserole or the stew.  I was asking him if the topic was confidential, meaning for Kathryn and me only – ‘casserole’ means ‘confidential.’  I also was asking him if we needed to contact him on a secure channel, with ‘stew’ meaning ‘secure.’  He said ‘yes’ to both.”

“Which is why we are going to my house to return his call,” Kathryn added.  She turned to Chakotay and asked, “Ready to go?”

He nodded.

“But why are you leaving now?” Gretchen asked as she followed them to the front door.  “You told Owen you would be home in about four hours.”

“That’s another part of the code.  You divide the estimated time for a call back by four.  Four hours means one hour, one hour means 15 minutes, so on,” Kathryn responded.

When they got to the porch, Kathryn turned to her mother and said, “Mom, I am sure everything is fine.  ‘Leola root’ is the code for ‘we need to talk,’ it’s not our emergency code.  I promise, as soon as I know more about what’s going on, I will let you know everything I can.”

Gretchen embraced her daughter and said, “I know you will.  I’m sorry if I’m worrying too much, it’s just been a while since I’ve had to deal with coded communications in my home.  I love you honey, be careful.”

“I will,” Kathryn said as she let go of her mother.

Chakotay stepped over to give Gretchen his own hug.

“I’ve got her back, Gretchen, don’t worry,” he said.

“I know you will.  And I love you as well, Chakotay, so you be careful, too,” Gretchen replied.

As Kathryn and Chakotay turned to make the ten-minute walk to the transport station, Gretchen called after them.

“You are going to have a problem if someone comms you on day actually looking for a leola root recipe!’

“Not something to worry about, mom!” Kathryn called back as Chakotay laughed.

------------

Just an hour later, Kathryn and Chakotay were seated in her office using a secure channel to speak with Owen Paris.

“Sorry to do that to you two, did you explain to Gretchen?” Owen asked.

Kathryn nodded and replied, “We did.  And this is a secure channel. What’s going on, Owen?”

He took a deep breath and asked, “Chakotay, have you gotten any communication from the Academy about your fall classes?”

A little taken aback, Chakotay said, “No, not since I returned on the Titan, and then it was just a confirmation of my class schedule.”

“What about your textbook, has anyone been in touch with you about it recently?” Owen continued.

“I got a message about a week ago reminding me that my final edit was due for a Starfleet security review at the end of this month, but that it would probably just be a formality at this point since security has had no complaints so far.  Why?”

Owen shook his head then said, “Because publication of your book has been cancelled, and your classes will be cancelled next week.  You will be named Captain of Voyager and sent on a mission instead.”

Then looking at Kathryn, he said, “Katie, have you heard anything about your new assignment?”

Turning from a clearly shaken Chakotay, Kathryn said, “I wasn’t aware I was getting one.”

Owen leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly, shaking his head.

“Owen,” Kathryn said as her eyes narrowed, “where are Chakotay and Voyager being sent?”

He sighed and said, “To the same planets he toured with the Titan.”

After a moment of silence, Owen added, “To supervise the reinstallation of Cardassian outposts on each planet.”

“What???” Chakotay bellowed.

“No,” Kathryn said at nearly the same time.  “No, Owen, that can’t be right!”

“What the hell, Owen?  They can’t, those people … Starfleet can’t do that to them,” Chakotay said in disbelief.

“Starfleet hasn’t done anything yet,” Owen said.  “This is *about* to happen.  Which is why we are having a leola root conversation.”

Kathryn covered her eyes with her palms for a second and took a deep breath.  Then she grabbed Chakotay’s hand and looked at Owen Paris.

“What is happening?” she asked sounding bewildered.

Owen shifted in his chair and answered.

“I was given this information today.  I got your note this morning about that ridiculous report summary from Erick Greene, and I started asking a few questions about the Cardassian negotiations.  I received a visit from … well, from someone who knew what was going on.  He told me everything – the plans for those planets, the plans for Voyager, everything.  He knew … he knew I had a special interest in what happens with Voyager, and would have a serious problem with what they are planning to do with it.”

Chakotay and Kathryn looked at each other.

“There’s more to this than just putting me on Voyager with Cardassians,” Chakotay said flatly.

Owen nodded.

“They’ve already picked your crew for you, Chakotay.  Every ex-Maquis from Voyager who is still in Starfleet will be assigned to that mission.”

The Admiral leaned forward and repeated, “*Every* ex-Maquis.”

Chakotay groaned and Kathryn gasped.

“Owen, they can’t.  B’Elanna’s pregnant!” Kathryn exclaimed.

Owen looked away from the comm for a moment, then back at it.  He looked sick.

“She is considered fit for full duty as Chief Engineer until her eighth month, then she is fit for partial duty until she gives birth,” he replied.

The three sat in silence for several seconds.

Finally Chakotay asked, “And this is being done for what purpose, exactly? To what end?”

Owen looked at him and said simply, “To your end, Captain.  And to the end of the remaining Maquis.”

The Admiral leaned forward and continued.

“Before today, I think there may have been three or four people in Starfleet who knew about this.  First, the person behind it.”

Kathryn’s face morphed to her famous death glare.

“Alynna Nechayev,” she said in a low voice.

Owen nodded his head.  He said, “Yes, this is her doing.  She’s been the primary negotiator with the Cardassians in the last year or so.   Baker was handling it before he retired – he was the one who initially secured the return of the border planets.  Alynna is the one who is willing to give them back.”

“Why?” Chakotay asked.   “What does the Federation get out of it?”

“More importantly, what does the Federation get out of sending Chakotay and other loyal officers into a situation that is potentially so dangerous?” Kathryn added.

“I don’t know what the Federation gets out of any of it,” Owen said, frustrated.  “That’s the thing.  There is no benefit to the Federation, only risk.  My source seems to think there is some sort of personal motive at work here, but I don’t know what it is.”

“Does she think people will just sit by and let her fill Voyager with former Maquis crew and send them into a replenished Cardassian stronghold?”  Kathryn asked.

“No,” Owen replied.  He swallowed, then continued in a lifeless voice.

“What she plans to do is make as much public relations hay as she can out of Voyager as a ‘ship of redemption.’  When you are all assigned, Chakotay, all you will be told is that you are going tour those colonies again.  Once you are there, and far away from any Fed News reporters, you will receive orders to begin the transport of Cardassian military units to the colonies.  During one of those trips, you will be attacked and boarded, and all the former Maquis will be taken back to Cardassia to stand trial.  By the time the Federation gets word of it, your sentences will likely have already been carried out.”

Kathryn stared at the screen, her mouth open.  Chakotay just shook his head sadly, then leaned forward to rest his head in his hands.

Owen continued, “Before word of any of this gets back to Starfleet, a few choice stories about you, Chakotay, and the rest of the Maquis crew will be leaked to Fed News.  Suggestions of atrocities committed by you – none of them true, but with no one around who can contest what is being said, the insinuations will start to become fact.  The pictures of you they show in the media will no longer be of you in your Captain’s uniform, or even your Commander’s, it will be you in Maquis leathers.  When word of your arrests and sentences finally makes it to Starfleet, there will be little appetite to protest, much less rescue you.”

Kathryn leaned towards the comm unit and said, “Owen, what you are talking about is murder.  Alynna Nechayev is planning to murder all those crewmen and women.  Murder Chakotay, and B’Elanna ….”

“And Tom,” Owen added softly.

Chakotay, who still had his head in his hands, looked up quickly.

“Tom?” he asked sharply.  “Why Tom?  He was in the Maquis about a week.”

“It fits the narrative of Voyager being a ship of redemption,” Owen replied tiredly.  “And Tom would be among the most vocal protesters about the assignment, especially if he were separated from B’Elanna while she was pregnant.  Sending him away is a way to keep him quiet.”

At that, Chakotay got a strange look on his face.

“Owen, what is this new assignment of Kathryn’s you mentioned?” he asked in a strangled voice.

Owen looked up at his ceiling, then back at the two on the comm.

“Kathryn is going to be named the Federation’s liaison to the Dominion.  She will receive a three-year assignment to the Gamma Quadrant.  About six months after she arrives, she will be kidnapped by an unaligned band of Jem’Hadar Alphas and never heard from again.”

Again, the three sat in silence.

Kathryn boke the quiet asking, “Who are the others?”

“What?” Owen asked.

“Who are the others?  You said that before today, only three or four people knew about it.  Alynna Nechayev is one, the person who told you is two.  Who else?”

“Her assistants,” Owen replied.

“Erick Greene,” Kathryn spat out.

Owen nodded and said, “Presumably.”

“But no one else in the admiralty?” Chakotay asked.

“Until me, no.”

Owen rubbed his forehead and eyes with this thumb and forefinger then said, “Here’s the problem.”

Kathryn snorted and said, “Everything else you said isn’t ‘the problem’?”

Owen ignored her and continued, “I don’t have any proof of any of this.  The person who came to see me about it, well, he’s in a precarious position.  His … mission … is larger than this situation.  And he’s under cover, he can’t blow that.”

“Section 31?” Chakotay asked.

“Yes.  At least, I think so.”

Kathryn sighed and said, “You’re saying we need to find proof.”

“No,” Owen said.  “I need you to buy me some time.  My contact has put me on the trail of something – it might not expose Alynna the way we might want, but it should be able to stop her.  I need the two of you, and a few others, to keep her off her game for a day or two while I follow that trail.”

“You aren’t going to expose her?” Kathryn asked in surprise.

“That’s not my goal, Katie,” Owen replied harshly.  “My goal is to keep you safe, keep Chakotay safe, B’Elanna, Tom, my unborn grandchild, everyone.  I don’t know that I can properly expose her quickly enough to keep any of you from being sent away.  So my focus is protection of the people I care about – prosecution of Alynna will have to be second.”

“Anyway,” he added, “I think if we are successful in stopping her, then Section 31 will be able to move with their plans.  And she won’t escape those.”

Kathryn leaned forward, her head almost touching the desk.  Chakotay reached over to rub her shoulders.

“What do you want us to do,” he asked the Admiral.

“I want you to gather all the Voyager and non-Voyager Starfleet officers you can – people you can trust to be discreet.  Beverly, Jean Luc, Will Riker, Tom, B’Elanna, Harry Kim, and so on.  Tell them what is going on and ask them to be prepared to take a stand.  The Admiralty Committee on Cardassia is meeting at 0800 the day after tomorrow, and that’s where we will confront her.  We need witnesses.”

Chakotay nodded. 

“What will you be doing while we are gathering witnesses?” Kathryn asked.

“I will be chasing that lead.”

------------

When they shut off the comm, Kathryn and Chakotay walked silently into her living room.

Just before they reached the couch, Kathryn stopped and turned to look at Chakotay.  They both had the same stricken expression on their faces.

“I am not going to lose you now,” Chakotay said suddenly with a rare intensity, almost rage.

“I am not going to lose you,” Kathryn replied with equal ferocity. 

They had both finally been able to accept the precious gift of each other, and now to hear their beautiful new reality threatened in such a cold, ugly way – they were both trembling.

They embraced tightly, as if they could will away Owen’s news with the strength of their arms.  They both inhaled deeply, as though memorizing each other’s scent.  Each felt the other’s heart beating wildly, the same fear and anger screaming through their bodies.

They loosened their grips to look one another in the eye.

“This is not going to happen,” Kathryn said with determination.

“We will gather our friends and we will stop it,” Chakotay declared.

“She cannot take you from me,” Kathryn said.

“She cannot send you away from me,” Chakotay replied.

“We will stop this, you and I, and we will be together,” Kathryn stated simply.

“We will be together, and we will be happy,” Chakotay said with a slight smile.

Kathryn smiled back and repeated, “We will be happy.”

When she said it, in that moment they knew – it wasn’t a wish, it wasn’t a hope.  It was a fact.  It was a plan, the only plan.  Whatever they had to do, they would do it.  They would be happy.

Come hell, high water, or Alynna Nechayev.

They brought their foreheads together and stood quietly for a moment, gaining strength from their connection and from that fact.  

They would be happy.

Soon, they would start contacting friends and allies and plotting their own survival, much as they used to in the Delta Quadrant – except now, the soil was supposed to be friendlier.  They would figure it out.  They would somehow come out on top again.

And they would be happy.  Oh, please, let them be happy. 

Chapter Text

Chakotay and Kathryn were up most of the night contacting allies with whom they could fight Nechayev’s upcoming orders.  Jean-Luc had offered the Enterprise as a meeting place, so it was agreed everyone would meet there at 0800 hours San Francisco time.

There wasn’t much else they could do from Kathryn’s computer at home – if they tried logging into the Starfleet network to look up information related to any of what they had learned, they felt sure Alynna Nechayev would be notified.  All that was left was to try and get a couple of hours of sleep.  Kathryn initially went to her own bed, while Chakotay tried to nap on her couch, but neither could relax.  Kathryn finally came downstairs with her pillows and blankets, and they created a bed on the floor, like they had done the night they made their pillow fort.  Chakotay got out the light board and the New Earth Constellations for the pair to lay under.

They held on to one another quietly, Chakotay stroking Kathryn’s hair.  They dozed for about an hour.  The computer was supposed wake them at 0500, but the signal for an incoming comm went off about forty-five minutes before.

It was Admiral Paris again.  

“I understand you have a group meeting on the Enterprise in a few hours?” he asked, not bothering with a greeting.

Kathryn nodded in the affirmative while Chakotay went to make coffee.

“Good,” Owen replied.  Then he paused as if in thought and said, “Katie, I need to ask you to do something.  I need you to bring your mother to that meeting.”

“My mother?” Kathryn asked, surprised.  “Owen, I haven’t told her about this, yet, I wanted to wait until we had a better idea of what we would be able to do.”

Owen nodded and said, “I know, and I would completely endorse that approach, except … except I need to ask her a few questions.  Gretchen actually might have some information we need.  I can’t be any more specific than that, I’m sorry.  Can you get her to the Enterprise with you?”

Kathryn ran her hand through her hair.  She didn’t like this at all.  She turned to see Chakotay approaching with the coffee, the frown on his face showing that he had heard Owen’s request.

“I wouldn’t ask you this if I didn’t believe it would make a difference,” Owen offered.

“She’ll be safe?” Chakotay asked as he handed Kathryn a mug

“Absolutely,” Owen replied.  “We don’t need her to do anything, I just need to ask her a couple of questions.”

“What questions?” Kathryn asked with narrowed eyes.

Owen sighed in response and said, “I’ll explain when I see you.  Just, please, bring Gretchen.”

And he cut off the comm.

Kathryn and Chakotay looked at one another.

“What do you think?” she asked, and then took a sip of coffee.

Chakotay shook his head silently for a moment, then replied, “I trust Owen, I really do … but I don’t like it, not one bit.”

“Neither do I,” Kathryn said.  And they walked to the couch and sat down, both still thinking.

Finally, Chakotay said, “I trust Jean-Luc.  I believe she will be safe on the Enterprise.”

“Probably safer there than she would be on Earth, if Nechayev decides to add her to the target list,” Kathryn added with a frown.

Then she looked up at Chakotay and said grimly, “But I don’t have to like it.”

------------

A few hours later, Kathryn and her mother beamed onto the Enterprise.  Jean-Luc and Beverly were in the transporter room to greet them.

“Welcome aboard, Admiral, Mrs. Janeway,” Picard said.  He reached out to help Gretchen down from the transporter pad as Beverly embraced Kathryn.

“Thank you, Captain,” the elder Janeway said with a slight smile.  Then she turned and said, “Beverly, it’s good to see you.”

Then, getting a mischievous look on her face, Gretchen added, “Actually, I don’t believe I’ve seen either one of you since the night my daughter got drunk and emptied her stomach into some shrubbery in a San Francisco park!”

“Mom,” Kathryn groaned as Beverly snickered.  Suppressing a grin, Jean-Luc took Gretchen’s arm and said, “Well, I am delighted to see you again today, despite the circumstances.”

As the four left the transporter room, Gretchen leaned over to her escort and whispered, “Captain, embarrassing Kathryn like that is too much fun to resist, regardless of the circumstances!”

The four soon reached the Observation Lounge and entered.  Inside were Chakotay, Will and Deanna Riker, B’Elanna and Tom, and Harry Kim.

“Harry!” Kathryn exclaimed as she saw her former Ops ensign. 

“Admiral,” he replied with a nod and a smile.  “Captain Riker invited me to assist you and everyone here with whatever I can do, or whatever the Titan can do.”

“Wonderful, thank you Captain Riker,” Kathryn replied with a grateful look at Will.

Then she stepped forward and placed her arm around Gretchen’s shoulder and said, “I believe everyone has met her, but just in case, this this my mother, Gretchen Janeway.”

A chorus of greetings sounded while Gretchen smiled and nodded at each person in the room.  After she made eye contact with everyone, though, her brow furrowed and she asked, “Ahh, where is Owen Paris?”

Tom said, “He’s on his way right now, said he had to pick someone up.”  When Kathryn looked at him questioningly, Tom shrugged and said, “I have no idea.”

At just that moment, though, the doors to the lounge opened and Admiral Paris walked in followed by a man also wearing admiral’s bars.  The man was slightly familiar to Kathryn and Jean-Luc, unfamiliar to everyone else.

Owen spotted Gretchen and said, “Good, you came.  I need to ask you a few questions, could you …” but he was interrupted by the very woman he was speaking to.

“No, Owen,” Gretchen said, her affable smile replaced by a steely glare.  “I’m not answering any questions until you explain to me why Alynna Nechayev is trying to kill my daughter and her friends.”

Paris looked at the man who came in with him and held his hands up as if in defeat.  That man stepped forward and looked at Gretchen.

“Mrs. Janeway, my name is Kevin Liu.  I lead an organization known as Section 31.  Please, have a seat.”

Gretchen knew what Section 31 was – if this man truly was in charge of it, then he would be able to answer some questions.  She took a seat at the table, as did everyone else.

Liu had also taken a seat.  He leaned back in his chair and surveyed the room, his eyes landing again on Gretchen.

“Mrs. Janeway, as best we can tell, Admiral Nechayev has no plans to kill anyone,” he said.

The room was silent for a moment.

Then,

B’Elanna swore and Tom yelled, “Dad, what the hell?”  Everyone started talking at once.

Admiral Liu used his fist to bang the conference table and bring everyone back to order.

“Your father wasn’t wrong, Mr. Paris,” Liu said.

More silence.

“Perhaps you could explain all of this to us,” Kathryn said evenly.

Admiral Liu nodded.

“Alynna Nechayev has been the subject of a great deal of speculation for many years.  On the surface, she is an ideal officer, although not necessarily a popular one.  She has a tendency to see people as assets to deploy, utilize, and discard as needed.  That has allowed her to make some tough decisions over the years that have benefitted the Federation.”

Liu paused.

“However …?” Gretchen prompted.

Liu smiled a bit and continued, “However, her dealings with the Cardassians have always seemed … odd.  The inconsistencies have been worrisome to a number of people.”

“Inconsistencies?” Beverly asked.

“Yes,” Liu affirmed.  “Consider your mission to Celtris III, Doctor.  Nechayev seemed utterly convinced that the Cardassians were creating metagenic weapons, so much that she was willing to sacrifice you and Captain Picard, and your security chief Lt. Worf, to stop it.  That was the sort of mission my people and I should have taken on, but Nechayev managed to keep that intelligence from us.  She was hell-bent on stopping that weapons program, she failed to see the shortcomings in the intelligence.”

Liu sighed and glanced apologetically at Jean-Luc.

“Captain, you never should have been sent to that planet.  You never should have had to endure what you did at the hand of Gul Madred.  Nechayev faced some serious questions about that whole mission, but was able to chalk her mistakes up to overzealousness in the face of a serious threat.  And Starfleet believed her.”

Jean-Luc’s face had gone rigid at the mention of Madred, but Beverly, sitting next to him, had grabbed his hand with both of hers and squeezed tightly.  He appeared strengthened by the connection.

Then Admiral Liu looked at Chakotay.

“By the same token, Captain Chakotay, Section 31 had a great deal of sound intelligence about the Cardassian plans for Dorvan V.  And we didn’t want to give your home to anyone.  The potential concession of your planet, and others, to Cardassia, was sold to the higher-ups in the Federation as a last resort only.  We had completed our covert review of their military strength and saw no need for the concession, but Nechayev included it in the final treaty.  She had been empowered by the Federation to sign the treaty without review, so once she did, we had to abide by it.  She acted as though her hands had been tied, but I can assure you, *she* is why your home was given to the Cardassians.”

Gretchen, sitting between Kathryn and Chakotay, moved her chair closer to his and looped her arm through his.  Chakotay smiled at Gretchen, then looked past her at Kathryn, his eyes full of pain.  Kathryn put her hand over her heart and looked at him with as much love as she could muster in the midst of her anger.

She then turned to Liu and asked, “Is that why she seems to hate Chakotay, because he is from Dorvan?”

Liu shrugged and said, “Possibly.  She also hates the Maquis, totally apart from any feelings she may have about the Captain.  Quite honestly, we don’t know why she has such a problem with him.”

Liu leaned forward and said, “That comes to the heart of the issue.  We don’t understand Alynna Nechayev.  Her actions regarding possible metagenic weapons seem hyper-protective of Federation interests.  Her actions regarding Dorvan are the exact opposite.  We don’t know what motivates such inconsistency when it comes to Cardassia.  That makes her dangerous, and is why we have been keeping an eye on her for a very long time.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you think she’s not planning to kill us,” B’Elanna said.

Liu sighed and looked around the table.

“I need to know that none of what we discuss will be revealed to anyone outside of this room.”

Everyone nodded, so Liu continued.

“We have been investigating this Nechayev situation on two fronts, here and on Cardassia.  We’ve had an operative assigned to her for some time, and we have developed a couple of assets inside Cardassian government.  The biggest discovery we’ve made is that she has had deep connections with members of the Obsidian Order for decades.”

Murmurs of surprise and confusion rose around the table.

“I thought the Obsidian Order died during the Dominion War,” Deanna Riker said.

“It was severely wounded,” Liu replied.  “But it didn’t completely die.  And it’s remaining members are seeking to reestablish themselves in the Cardassian power structure.”

Everyone was silent for a moment.  The idea of a reactivated Obsidian Order was sobering.  And if they somehow were trying to kill Voyager crew … but something still didn’t make sense.

“Why *are* they targeting Voyager’s crew?” Will Riker asked, looking bewildered.

“It would be excellent public relations for the Order to show they executed the last remaining Maquis.  They also could demonstrate that they still control a large number of Jem’Hadar by having them execute Admiral Janeway, the officer they blame for the loss of their operative, Seska,” Liu answered.

Riker shook his head and said, “And you say Nechayev doesn’t know this?”  

Owen Paris spoke up at this point, saying, “If she thought about it, she would probably figure it out.  But she doesn’t want to think about it.  That’s how deep she is in this.”

“We don’t know if she came up with the idea of selling out the Voyager Maquis on her own, or if she was given the idea,” Liu added.  “We know that she was told that everyone captured would be sent to prison, she has not been told that they will be executed.”

“What about the threat against Kathryn?” Chakotay asked.

Liu smiled apologetically at Kathryn and said, “We think she came up with the idea of banishing you to the Gamma quadrant on her own.  Apparently, she’s been extremely irritated at you since she, uh … debated you and Doctor Crusher in your famous coffee shop meeting.”

Kathryn and Beverly looked at one another and rolled their eyes.

“We believe, though, that she told the Order about her plan for you, and they decided to use it for their own benefit.  We have no reason to believe she is aware of their plans,” Liu said.

There was another moment of silence as the gathered officers digested the information.

“I’m afraid I have a hard time believing she is that much of a traitor,” Jean-Luc finally said with a sigh.  “I have had my differences with her, everyone is aware of that.  But I never would have imagined she would betray the Federation like this.”

“Yes,” Liu replied, “it’s very surprising.  And it’s unexplained.  This is why we haven’t been able to act on what we know about her plans because we don’t know *why* it’s happening.  There is a very large piece of the puzzle missing.  Section 31 had been content to try and figure this out following a much longer timeline, but these developments have pushed us to act.  That’s why we are meeting now.”

Admiral Liu looked at Owen Paris and nodded.  Owen stood up and walked towards Gretchen.

“And that’s why I asked for you to be here today,” he said, looking at his old friend, the widow of his long-gone best friend.

Gretchen shook her head a little and replied, “I have no idea what I can do for you, Owen, but I will answer any questions you have.”

Chakotay rose and motioned for Owen to take his seat.  The admiral sat down and looked earnestly at Gretchen.

“I need you to think back,” he said to her.  “Think back to conversations you had with Edward.”

“Daddy?” Kathryn asked, surprised.

“Your father was one of the first officers to notice odd patterns in Alynna Nechayev’s activities,” Liu said quietly.

Owen continued, “Gretchen, he wouldn’t have said anything specific about his suspicions.  But do you remember him saying anything about any evidence he had collected about her, or maybe just about a member of Starfleet?”

Gretchen looked away for a moment, lost in thought.  Then she blinked and looked back at Owen.

“Owen, no … I’m sorry,” she said miserably.

Owen looked back at Liu, who was staring at Kathryn’s mother.

“Mrs. Janeway, did your husband keep separate records?  Electronic records or files, or even images?” Liu asked.

Gretchen looked stricken and said, “Not that I remember … oh, Katie!”  She turned to her daughter and took her hand.

“It’s okay, mom, if Daddy never told you anything, that’s fine,” Kathryn said reassuringly.  She then shot a look of annoyance at Owen Paris.

Owen stood up and paced for a minute.  Then he stopped and walked back to Gretchen’s side.

“What about a ‘red file,’ Gretchen?  Did he ever say anything about that?” he asked.

Gretchen stared at Owen Paris.

“A ‘red file,’” she repeated slowly, looking back down at her hands.

The room was tense and silent.

“Or maybe he said a ‘red filly,’” Owen added.

Gretchen then looked up sharply at Owen.

“A ‘red filly’?” she asked him.  Owen nodded in return.

Gretchen stood to face him and said, “You know, not long before he died, Edward said the strangest thing to me – and repeated it right before he and Katie and Justin left that last time.  He said ‘If Owen ever asks you about a red filly, tell him to go back to Whiskey River.’  I thought it referred to some girl the two of you chased before you met me and Julia – but is that what you are looking for now?”

Owen’s smile doubled in size, and he grabbed Gretchen and hugged her.  He looked at Admiral Liu and said, “That’s it.”

Kathryn then stood and said, “Wait, I need an explanation.”

“I can give you a brief one, but then I need to go pull your father’s personal logs,” Owen replied as he guided Gretchen back to her chair.  He then looked at the room full of thoroughly confused faces and chuckled.

“Edward and I had a lot of private jokes, most of them quite stupid.  Back when we were both captains, we had been at a conference where a very officious Bolian was presenting about data security on starships.  It was extremely boring, but Edward and I had a devil of a time not laughing because of how that Bolian kept mispronouncing words in Standard.  Every time he talked about a ‘file,’ he said ‘filly,’ as though the word had two syllables and ended with a long ‘e.’  Edward and I got to the point we just said the word like that, to each other.  Never in official communication or anything, just something to crack ourselves up.”

“Okay, Dad,” Tom said slowly.  “Where does ‘Whiskey River’ come into it?  What is that, code for getting drunk?” 

Owen shook his head and said, “Tom, how can you claim to be a fan of the 20th century and not know that one?  One of the biggest singers of that century, Willie Nelson, made a song called ‘Whiskey River’ famous.”

B’Elanna cracked a smile at her father-in-law and said, “Do we get to know why the song is significant to you and Edward Janeway?”

Smiling proudly, Owen replied, “You do.  The night after I was given the Al-Batani, Edward and a couple of our friends from the Academy took me to dinner in celebration – and the night ended with the four of us in a karaoke bar singing ‘Whiskey River.’”

Several people in the room chuckled – Tom put his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry, what does all of that mean?” Gretchen asked in irritation.

Owen sat next to her again and took her hand.

“Gretchen, I’m sorry.  Back then, there was still a lot of plotting and sub-plotting in Starfleet.  Edward and I used to refer to our ‘red files’ when discussing activities we had observed that we thought represented a threat to the Federation.  If Edward had collected something about Alynna Nechayev, he would have put it in a ‘red file.’  But he wouldn’t have come right out and told me or anyone else where it was.  The message he gave you, though, could only be understood by me, and it would be the only way I could find that file if I needed it.  Which I do – we do.”

“You are going to go back into his logs for that time?” Liu asked.

“Yes,” Owen replied.  “I’ll need his official and personal logs for the last week of March, 2357.  Captain Picard, I am sure the Enterprise can link up with those logs, could you ….”

“No!” Kathryn suddenly said.

Everyone looked at her.

She was walking the floor behind where Owen and her mother were seated, one hand at her waist, the other at her chin.  She walked to the front of the room and looked at Owen Paris, her eyes bright with excitement.

“If Daddy collected something that important,” she said energetically, “he wouldn’t have put any reference to it in his audio logs.  That was one of the things he used to tell me, audio logs can be tampered with.  You need to come with us to Indiana, Owen.  We need to get Daddy’s handwritten logs.  That’s the only place he would have left a message for you.”

Gretchen looked at Owen and said, “She’s right.”

Owen looked at Admiral Liu.  The Admiral stood and said, “Go.  Now.”

------------

Owen Paris, Gretchen, Kathryn, and Chakotay transported back to Earth.  Everyone else remained on the Enterprise to discuss delaying tactics.

Once inside the Janeway house, the four went to Edward’s study.  While Kathryn and Gretchen looked through the handwritten logs for those March days in 2357, Owen pulled Chakotay aside.

“Admiral Liu didn’t get a chance to tell you this, but I wanted you to know, we sent for your sister and the other colony leaders yesterday, as soon as we found out about Nechayev’s plan to hand the other planets back to Cardassia.  She was picked up by a starship whose captain is aware that we have security concerns, so her safety is being very carefully monitored. She should be here in a few days.”

Chakotay nodded and said, “You thought she and the other colony leaders would be helpful in stopping that handover?”

“Possibly,” Owen replied.  “But she personally could also be very helpful in blocking everything else, if we are only able to delay Nechayev’s plans and not completely shut them down.”

The two stood silently for a moment as Kathryn and Gretchen continued looking through the stacks of logs.

Chakotay turned to Owen and asked, "By the way, why did your contact tell you Admiral Nechayev planned to kill all of us, if that wasn't her intention?"

Owen rolled his eyes and said, "Apparently, even the calm, cool agents of Section 31 can jump the gun.  My contact knew what Nechayev was planning, and when he found out what the Cardassians were planning, he assumed she knew and was behind all of it. When he couldn't reach Admiral Liu, he came to me. He was wrong, but it probably worked out for the best.  I don't know that Section 31 would have been willing to act if I hadn't started raising hell."

At that moment, Gretchen called out, “Found it!”  She handed an open journal to Owen.

Owen flipped a couple of pages until he found one that included the entry for his celebratory dinner.  Owen read it quickly, then read it again.  He looked confused.

“I don’t see anything,” he said despondently. 

Chakotay leaned over to look at the booklet, and he pointed to the lower corner of the page.

“Is that something written in pencil?” he said.  “Upside down?”

Owen turned the journal over and squinted to get a good look at the words.

“Owen,” he read slowly.  “If you are seeing this, then you need to know one thing.  My father always told me to remember that ‘All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.’ Your friend, EJ.”

He looked up blankly and said, “I don’t know what that means.”

But Kathryn and Chakotay did.

“Tolkien,” they said simultaneously.

------------

Before Owen, Kathryn, and Chakotay headed to Chakotay’s San Francisco apartment, they made sure Gretchen got back to the Enterprise.

“I will be fine at my own home, or with your sister,” she grumbled to Kathryn.

“Mom,” Kathryn answered firmly, “I am asking you to do this for me.  I need to focus on Nechayev right now, and I won’t be able to if I don’t know you are somewhere safe.  Jean-Luc has offered to let you stay there for a couple of days, and I know you will be safe there.  Please, just pack a small bag and do this.”

Gretchen really didn’t want to go back to the Enterprise, but she understood that Kathryn wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the problem if she was worried about her mother.  So she agreed – begrudgingly.  

“What am I supposed to do on a starship?” she asked for the hundredth time as she prepared to beam up.

Kathryn smiled and replied, “Ask Beverly about her night dancing with Jean-Luc.  And ask her if the tables were sturdy enough.”

Gretchen raised an eyebrow, and the transporter took her away.

At Owen and Chakotay’s curious looks, she simply said, “Girl talk.  Now let’s get to San Francisco.”

When they got to his apartment, Chakotay took the box of Tolkien books from their box and he and Kathryn began flipping through the pages.  

Owen stopped them, though, and said, “Let me try this.”  He took out a tricorder and began scanning the books and the box.

He slowed down when scanning the leather-bound box.  

“It’s in here,” he said, and he picked up the box.  He looked closely at the inside bottom, then began picking at the edge of the leather lining the bottom.  The edge came up a little, so he pinched it with his thumb and forefinger to pull it up.  The entire bottom lining came out.  Something was affixed to the newly exposed side of the lining.

Something red.

Owen gently pried it from the leather.  It was a small, red data chip.

“The ‘red filly’?” Chakotay asked softly.

“I think so,” Owen replied.  He picked his tricorder back up and inserted the chip in the primary data port.

A menu came up.  One file, apparently a video file, was called “Confessions.”  The other, a data file, was called “EVLA.”  Owen tried opening each file, but his tricorder gave him an error message.

Frustrated, he turned to Chakotay and said, “Captain, can I use your computer?”

Chakotay showed him to the primary terminal, and Owen once again inserted the chip into a data port.

“Computer,” he said, “display menu from the data chip in the main port.”

The display on Chakotay’s computer showed the same menu that the tricorder display had.

Owen then said, “Computer, play video file named ‘Confessions.’”  

The computer replied, “Unable to comply.  Data storage device has degraded beyond the point of readability.”

“Damn,” Kathryn muttered.  “Try the other file.”  

“Computer, display contents of file ‘EVLA,’” Owen said.

The computer once again said, “Unable to comply.  All information on data storage device is degraded beyond the point of readability.”

Kathryn and Chakotay looked at one another miserably.

“Where do we go from here,” Chakotay asked.

“I don’t know,” Kathryn replied with emotion.  “But apparently we can’t do anything with what Daddy tried to leave us.”

Owen was still staring at the menu.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” he said.

Chapter Text

It was early afternoon when Kathryn and Chakotay returned to the Enterprise Observation Lounge.  The rest of the group were still there, with the exception of Beverly who was still seeing to Gretchen’s needs.  They had spent the day reviewing available files about Admiral Nechayev and her suspected Cardassian connections for any kind of evidence they could use, to little avail.  The only conclusion they could draw was what Admiral Liu had already told them - there was some other major factor influencing Nechayev’s decisions.

"It's obvious," Tom said.  "The only thing that makes any of her last two or three decades of decisions make sense is that there is someone on Cardassia who is directing her.  To what end, we don’t know."

"We can't tell who it is, though," Harry added.  "There's definitely an Obsidian Order connection, but we can't identify an individual."

Kathryn sighed and said "I don't think we need to concentrate too much on the 'why's' of all of this - that's Admiral Liu's concern.  Our immediate concern is to stop her by tomorrow morning."

Deanna Riker spoke up and said, "I don't think we should wait until tomorrow.  In fact, I think it is critical we move tonight."

The others in the room glanced at one another, then looked back at Deanna curiously.

"Why tonight, Counselor?" Jean-Luc asked.

Deanna leaned back in her chair and held up the padd she'd been looking at.

"I just got a look at her schedule for the next 24 hours - thank you, by the way, Mr. Kim, for breaking into her personal files.  She's got her Committee on Cardassia meeting tomorrow morning at 0800.  The other admirals on the committee with her are not particularly strong-willed.  In fact, I would say they are under her thumb.  If we go charging in tomorrow, she will react and they will follow her lead."

Deanna stood up and walked to the front of the room.

"Tonight, though," she continued as she scrolled through the padd, "Admiral Nechayev is scheduled to attend the monthly planet-side Admiralty cocktail hour and dinner."

She turned to the display screen on the observation lounge wall and said, "Computer, show the scheduled attendees for tonight’s admiralty dinner."

A list of twenty or so names came up.

Will whistled at the list and said, "There are some power players there.  Hayes, Brand, T’Lara, Nakamura."

Deanna nodded and said, "And many of those power players aren't necessarily fans of Admiral Nechayev’s."

"Are you suggesting we just show up at this party and accuse her of treason?" Chakotay asked incredulously.

"Come on, Chakotay," Tom said, "you aren’t scared of a little gate crashing, are you?"

Shooting a smile at Tom, Deanna answered Chakotay, "Yes, that's basically what I am saying.  Her defenses won't be up.  She won't be the most powerful person in the room."

Jean-Luc spoke up then, saying "I agree with Counselor Riker.  The mistake we have been making is planning to fight her through proper channels.  Even if our investigation hasn't been quite as proper," and he smiled at Harry Kim, "we are still making a plan as though this were a regular Starfleet proposal.  Admiral Nechayev hasn't done that.  If we follow protocol, we are just making things easier for her.  Yes, we should plan on confronting her tonight."

Chakotay shrugged and smiled, saying "Gate crashing it is, I guess."

"It wouldn't be gate crashing," Kathryn replied.  "I have a standing invitation to that dinner, I imagine Owen does, too."

Chakotay looked at her and said, "You've never mentioned it."

She replied, "That's because I've never attended.  I couldn't imagine anything less interesting.  Tonight's event, though … well, we could end up making it very interesting."

“Where *is* Owen, by the way?” B’Elanna asked.

“He took the data chip to someone he knows at the Daystrom Institute to see if they could reconstruct it,” Kathryn said.  

Tom rose and said, “I’ll comm him, let him know to meet us at this admiralty party.”

“Wait, Tom,” Chakotay said, holding up a hand.  He turned to Kathryn and asked, “We can’t assume he’s going to be successful getting anything off that chip.  We need a back-up plan.”

Kathryn smiled a little and replied, “Well, Handsome Man, I’ve been thinking about that ….”

------------

It was 1900 hours when the group – Kathryn, Chakotay, Jean-Luc, Beverly, Will, Deanna, Tom, and B’Elanna beamed into the lobby of the old St. Francis Hotel on Union Square in San Francisco.  The hotel had been hosting the Admiralty Cocktail Hour and Dinner for more than eighty years, and none of the staff were surprised to see a contingent of Starfleet officers appear in their transporter lounge.

The only non-Starfleet person with them was Gretchen.  After explaining her plan to the group on the Enterprise, Kathryn and Tom had apprised Owen of their intentions.  He had been having little success at Daystrom, so he wholeheartedly agreed with Kathryn’s suggestions.  Owen had one of his own, though.

“You need to bring Gretchen,” Owen said.

Kathryn shook her head and replied, “No, she is already too far into this, I am not going to put her at further risk.”

“Kathryn, she could be key to making this work,” Owen insisted.  “The only way this bluff is going to fly is if Alynna funds herself truly at loose ends.  She has too many years lying her way out of tight spots with other officers, that’s familiar territory for her.  I don’t think she will know how to react to your mother.”

Kathryn was quiet for a moment, her lips pursed.  She looked at Tom, the question in her eyes.

“I think Dad’s right,” Tom said gently.

Kathryn straightened her back and nodded curtly.  

“Okay,” she said.

In the end, however, she would only agree to let her mother come with them to the St. Francis if a transporter lock was maintained on Gretchen the entire time.  So Harry was to remain on the Enterprise, ready to whisk Mrs. Janeway away to safety at anyone’s command.

Gretchen had been all too eager to participate.  She wanted Kathryn and Chakotay to enjoy the freedom they had found with one another, and apparently that wasn’t going to happen with Alynna Nechayev still running things.

And truth be told, Gretchen really wanted the chance to actually *do* something to help, not just sit back and watch.  She had spent so many years watching Edward, then Kathryn, take risks to save others.  Gretchen wasn’t interested in living out some sort of “Starfleet wannabe” fantasy, but she would have been lying if she’s said she wasn’t a little excited over the prospect of not only being part of a mission, but possibly being the star.

Owen commed Gretchen soon after Kathryn briefed her.  He went over the plan with her, explained the ruse they were going to attempt in order to completely unnerve Nechayev.  And he left her with one, final, vital instruction:

“You see anyone reach for a phaser, you hit the ground,” Owen said forcefully. 

Of course, no one really thought Nechayev would make any move against Gretchen while in the company of so many other Starfleet leaders, but they kept silent on this point.  And Gretchen got her transporter lock and promised to duck if need be.

Now the eight officers and an admiral’s widow were waiting for the arrival of the last member of their gang, Owen.

As they waited, Gretchen looked around the grand lobby of the historic hotel.  Kathryn and Chakotay walked over to her.

“Are you okay, Gretchen, do you need anything?” Chakotay asked her.

Gretchen shook her head, still looking around the room – the intricate woodwork, the luscious fabrics on the antique furniture – gorging herself on this feast for her eyes.

“I was just thinking,” she finally said.  Then she quieted.

Kathryn shot a worried look at Chakotay, then asked, “Thinking what, mom?”

Gretchen turned to look at her daughter, then at Chakotay.

“I was thinking this would be a wonderful place for a wedding,” she said.  Then, spotting Owen Paris materializing, she exclaimed, “It’s about damn time!  Let’s get this show on the road!”  And she walked over to him.

Kathryn and Chakotay looked at each other.

“Subtle,” he said.

“My mother,” she replied.  “There are no words.”

Then they rejoined their co-conspirators who were huddled together, discussing final details.

In the private dining room of the St. Francis, Admiral Upton was just beginning to give a talk about cultural exchange programs between long-established Federation members and newly-admitted worlds.  He stopped speaking, though, when the doors to the dining room opened and Admirals Janeway and Paris came walking in.

Jeremiah Hayes stood up at his table and boomed, “Well, I never though I’d see the day!  Owen, how the hell did you get Katie Janeway to come to this thing?”

Owen smiled and said, “Oh, it wasn’t my doing, you can thank Alynna for it.”

There was immediate murmuring all around the room in response.  Of course, all of them knew about the altercation between Janeway and Nechayev at the coffee shop – were they about to be witnesses to Round Two?

Admiral Nechayev slowly rose from her chair at her table.

“I am gratified you joined us tonight, Owen, Kathryn, but how am I responsible for the two of you being here?” she asked coldly.

“Oh, it’s not just the two of us,” Kathryn said, and she moved aside to allow the other officers in the room.

Eyebrows shot up and eyes widened at every table.  Admiral Upton returned to his seat – he knew that his presentation would pale in comparison to whatever was about to happen.

Admiral Nechayev’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t falter.  She continued to stand straight.  She was looking at some of her least favorite people in all of Starfleet, idiots who had dared to challenge her on her turf.  

“There are no ‘plus-ones’ allowed at this dinner.  Owen, you know better.  Kathryn, I guess you are simply still too green to know how things are done.  Or maybe those bars just don’t fit.”

“Oh, we aren’t here for the dinner,” Kathryn responded.  She turned to look at her friends and her Handsome Man – she smiled at them – then she looked back at Nechayev.

“We are all here because we have a question we want answered,” Kathryn said.

Nechayev rolled her eyes and sighed.

“What question would that be,” she asked, choosing to sound bored.

Gretchen then appeared from behind the group and walked to the middle of the room.

“Alynna Nechavev,” she said, looking the admiral directly in the eye but refusing to use her title, “Why have you decided to have my daughter and her friends murdered?”

Now the room was full of gasps.  Many of the assembled admirals knew Gretchen Janeway personally, they knew she was not a flighty woman.  For her to be there, at that event, making that accusation – something was definitely going on.

Admiral Nechayev, for her part, seemed to shrink a bit.

Beverly leaned over to Jean Luc and whispered, “All of a sudden, Alynna looks like a child who has gotten in trouble with a parent.”

Jean-Luc whispered back, “I think that was the point.”

Gretchen had not stopped staring at the admiral.

“Alynna, I asked you a question,” she said in her most parental tone.

Nechayev glanced around the room quickly and saw everyone else apparently as cowed as she was.  She looked at Gretchen, then looked away and replied, “I don’t know what you are talking about.  I’m not having anyone murdered.”

Gretchen, sensing her advantage, stepped forward.  

“You might not be pulling out a phaser, but you are putting my daughter in the line of fire.  And her friends and loved ones.  Why are you trying to have Captain Chakotay, and Commanders Torres and Paris killed, also?  Did you know Commander Torres is pregnant with her second child?  Why are you wanting to have Owen’s grandson executed?”

Again, the room filled with quiet chatter.

The noise seemed to trigger defensiveness in Nechayev.  She held her chin up and said, “I don’t know what you are talking about, Gretchen.”

“Oh, you don’t get to call me ‘Gretchen,’ young lady, you call me ‘Mrs. Janeway,’” Gretchen replied sharply.  At her words, many of the other admirals in the room found themselves reflexively sitting up a little straighter, as though their own mothers were in the room.

“Of course, Mrs. Janeway,” Nechayez began, trying to regain control of the room by placating the older woman, but Gretchen cut her off.

“Do the others in this room know your plans?  How you intend to send my daughter to the Gamma Quadrant, where some of your Cardassian friends plan to have her disappear?” she demanded.  

Seeing the universal looks of surprise on the other admirals, Gretchen continued. 

“Apparently, this was news to them.  I suppose they also weren’t aware that you plan on allowing Cardassian military outposts to be constructed on Aldis and Foutis, and all those other worlds that you supposedly had taken out from under Cardassian control?”

More chatter in the room.  Nechayev opened her mouth but Gretchen kept talking.

“And I guess none of them knew that not only were you going to require Chakotay, B’Elanna, Tom, and all the other former Maquis from Voyager to be the ones charged with escorting those Cardassians to those planets, but that you had arranged for all of them to be taken prisoner by the remains of the Obsidian Order, then taken back to Cardassia and executed?”

Kathryn, Chakotay, and the others stared wide-eyed at Gretchen.  She had turned her part in this confrontation into the role of a lifetime.  Her voice had gotten stronger and her expression more contemptuous with each word she spat at Nechayev.  All the assembled admirals were frozen, looking both mesmerized and a little scared of Mrs.  Janeway.

Still, Kathryn wasn’t sure the bluff had worked until the last exchange between her mother and Admiral Nechayev.

“And one last question, Alynna,” Gretchen said, still unwilling to call Nechyev by her rank.  “In light of everything else I’ve asked you, one question – what about E-V-L-A?”

At the Gretchen’s recitation of the letters that made up one of the file names from Edward’s “red filly,” Nechayev’s face had gone sickly pale, and she gasped.

“Evla?” she choked out.  “How do you know about Evla, what does she have to do with this?”

“It’s enough that we know, isn’t it Alynna?” Owen Paris asked, stepping forward.  

This had been his gamble, that “EVLA” weren’t letters that stood for anything, but were the name of a person or a place.  While he had been at Daystrom, he’d had the group on the Enterprise conduct searches on the letters.  The most common use of them, in that order, was as a historically female name on Cardassia.  Owen had instructed Gretchen to ask the question when she felt she had Nechayev the most unnerved.  He also had told her to spell the letters out in case they didn’t refer to a person or a place.  What might have come across as a rhetorical device for dramatic effect was actually a way for them to reveal knowledge of the term without revealing they didn’t have a clue what it meant.

They would move forward based on Nechayev’s reaction.  And, boy, did she react.

Nechayev fell back into her chair, her face blank.

“What the hell is this about?” Admiral Hayes demanded, standing.  He looked at Nechayev first for an explanation.  When none came, he looked at Owen Paris and said, “Well?”

Owen glanced at Alynna.  She still seemed shaky, but he could see the ice reforming in her face.  He needed to get everything out before she recovered.

“Yesterday, I was informed of certain plans about to be put in action by Admiral Nechayev.  First, she plans to give Voyager to Captain Chakotay and staff it primarily with former Maquis crew, including my son and daughter-in-law.  She will announce that Voyager is to be a ship of ‘redemption,’ get a ton of positive PR, then send the ship to the border worlds that the Federation recently got back from Cardassia.  Once Voyager arrives there, they will be notified of their new mission – to escort groups of Cardassian troops to those planets so they can staff security stations she has allowing them to build.”

As Owen talked, Kathryn and Chakotay watched the other admirals in the room.  As Owen added details, individual admirals would react at different moments.

Kathryn leaned to Chakotay and whispered, “I think some of the people in this room have helped her with some of these details, but didn’t know there was larger plan going on.”

Chakotay nodded and whispered back, “When Owen made the comment about positive PR, Admiral Upton covered his eyes with his hands and started shaking his head.  I think he handles a lot of the PR for the Admiralty – he might have been working with Nechayev on something PR-related for Voyager.  I bet he had no idea it was part of any larger plan though.  I know him, he’s a good man.”

Owen had continued talking, explaining the plan to have Voyager escort the Cardassian troops, and that the nebulae between Earth and those planets would make it impossible for Chakotay to reach Starfleet headquarters for guidance. 

“And after all those former Maquis suffer the humiliation of putting Cardassian soldiers on those planets, planets that were only recently freed of abuse and enslavement by that regime, they will be attacked by a contingent of Obsidian Order ships.  All former Maquis crew will be tried and convicted before they even arrive on Cardassia, then they will be executed when they arrive.”

Admiral Nechayev had recovered her ability to speak.

“That’s not what’s supposed to happen,” she snapped.

Admiral Hayes turned to her, anger on his face.

“What is supposed to happen, Alynna?  When you and I talked about offering Voyager to Captain Chakotay, you never said anything about sending him back to those planets to deal with Cardassians.  Nor did you say anything about choosing his crew for him.” 

Admiral Nakamura spoke up, saying, “And when you spoke with me about building bases on the border planets – a decision I did not support, by the way – you never said the soldiers stationed there would be Cardassian.”

“And when you spoke with me about assisting the Cardassian military with transportation,” Admiral T’Lara added, “you said it was to monitor civil unrest on planets in their established territory.  You never gave any indication you intended to move their military into newly re-acquired Federation space.”

Kathryn and Chakotay glanced at one another.  Their instinct had been correct.

“That’s how she manages it,” they heard Will Riker whisper behind them.  “She gets different admirals to agree to different parts of her plan, leaving her as the only person who knows all that is going on.”

The other admirals in the room seemed to be coming to the same conclusion.  They were all looking at Nechayev with anger.

Admiral Hayes held his hand up to keep anyone else from speaking.  He turned to Owen and asked, “And how was Kathryn Janeway going to be killed?”

Gretchen answered him instead, saying, “A few months after being assigned to the Gamma Quadrant, she would be kidnapped by a stray group of Jen’Hadar, never to be heard from again.  That’s what Alynna Nechayev is going to try and do to Edward Janeway’s daughter.  Jeremiah, my husband mentored you for years, and this is what you are going to allow to happen to his little girl?”

Hayes stared at Gretchen for a moment.  Then he set his jaw, shook his head, and turned to stare once more at Nechyev.

The Admiral was doing her best to appear unphased.  She knew she would have to placate her colleagues when the evening was over.  But she needed more information.

“Where are you getting all this ridiculous information,” she spat at Owen and Gretchen.  

Owen rolled his eyes and said, “Where do you think?  Who is in a position to not only tell me what you’ve been up to, but also what your allies on Cardassia have been up to?”

Nechayev’s eyes widened.  

Someone on the other side of the room said it loud enough to be heard by the entire room, “Section 31.”

Nechayev was shaken to realize she had been under that kind of surveillance, but she decided to continue to act as though she were as powerful as she’d been when the night began.

“I know nothing of any plan to execute the Maquis, though it’s not like it wouldn’t be deserved,” she said.

More gasps in the room.

Nechayev threw her hands up and said, “Oh, please.  Like everyone in here doesn’t know what they are.  Traitors.  Criminals.”

She shot a look of pure hatred at Chakotay and said, “Murderers.”

“Oh, please,” Beverly said loudly.  “You’ve already lost this argument once, Alynna, and made a coffee shop famous in the process.  Are you that eager for another round?”

Ignoring Beverly, Alynna looked at Kathryn and said, “I think I told you before that you needed to make a choice between your career and your libido.  Apparently, you didn’t listen.”

“Regretfully, my libido has had nothing to do with it,” Kathryn responded.

Nechayev made a face.  She looked around the room – her power was diminished, no question of it.  But she didn’t have to act like it.

“Admiral Janeway, you need to think about your career.  Continue with this ridiculous attack that you have dragged your poor mother into, your future in Starfleet will be very questionable.  Continue with this dubious association with your Maquis plaything, you can kiss your career goodbye.”

Kathryn looked at her seriously and said, “You are telling me to choose between the truth and my career?  I choose the truth.”

Nechayev snorted, pointed at Chakotay, and said, “And what about this man?

Little did she know she had said the magic words.

This man.

This man.

Kathryn turned to look at Chakotay.  She knew the choice Nechayev was presenting was a false one, that none of the reassignments would take place and everyone would be safe.  Kathryn didn’t have to make a choice.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t willing to.

“Choose between my career and this man?” Kathryn said to Nechayev, fully aware the entire room was listening intently.

Kathryn smiled.  Then she chuckled.  Then she laughed.

She walked over to Chakotay and placed her hand over his heart.

“Oh, Alynna,” she said, not taking her eyes from Chakotay’s, “you didn’t even make it hard.”

------------

Admiral Hayes commed his own contacts at Section 31, and soon five non-descript individuals in Starfleet uniforms came in.  They surrounded Admiral Nechayev and walked her out of the dining room, Owen Paris following.

At the invitation of several others in the room, Kathryn, Chakotay, and their entire group sat down and ordered dinner.  Gretchen had been unable to eat a bite, though, as she had a steady stream of admirers coming by compliment her on her performance.

Hayes walked to the podium where Admiral Upton had been speaking earlier.  He called the room to order.

“Our … friends … at Section 31 didn’t seem at all surprised to hear from me.  I think Alynna is going to be talking to them for a while.”

Tom raised a glass and said to those around him at his table, “Here’s to Section 31.”

Hayes turned to the table where that group sat.

“I want to apologize for the threat you all have been living under these last few hours.  It shouldn’t have happened.  I apologize for any part I played in it – I should have asked more questions.”

Kathryn, Chakotay, Tom, and B’Elanna nodded their acceptance to Admiral Hayes.

The admiral smiled and said, “You know, Admiral Janeway, it is tradition for a first-time attendee to say a few words before we adjourn.  I invite you to do that now.”  

As Kathryn approached the podium, Hayes added, “I believe your mother impressed us all tonight, you are going to come up with something pretty special top her.”

Kathryn grinned and said, “I’ll do my best.”

She turned to the group in front of her.  She knew there were still almost twenty admirals in the audience, but she only cared about one table.  And of the people at that table, she really only saw one face.

“We are safe,” Kathryn said with a smile.  “Once and for all, we are safe.  For me, that means only one thing.”

Kathryn took a deep breath and said, “Chakotay, will you marry me?”

----------
 
Owen Paris was in his office reading recent intelligence reports about the Obsidian Order.  He had read them before, but he read them again looking for … something.  He didn’t really know.

“Nechayev is going to resign,” said a voice from the doorway.

Owen, not looking up from his padd, asked “No jail time?”

Admiral Liu sat in a chair along the wall.

“No,” he replied.  “She is going to spend several months in protective custody with us, of course, as we learn everything there is to know about her history with the Obsidian Order.”

Liu was quiet for a moment, then said, “Thank you for locating the data chip.”

Owen looked at him and answered, “You’re welcome.”

Liu tilted his head and regarded Admiral Paris.

“I take it you reviewed the contents of the chip.”

Owen let the padd fall to his desk, and he ran his hand over his eyes.

“Of course, I did,” he replied, sounding tired.  “That tricorder you gave me saved a perfect record of everything on the chip before it made it unreadable.”

Liu nodded, then asked, “You read the ‘Evla’ files?”

“Yes,” Owen replied.

“You watched the ‘confessions’?” Liu asked.

Paris sighed and said, “Yes.  And it was like going back in time.”

The men sat in silence for a little while longer, then Liu asked, “Do you intend to tell anyone?  Kathryn Janeway? Her mother?”

Owen looked at him and said sharply, “What good would that do?”

“I have no idea,” Liu admitted.  “But you knew everyone involved in this.  Are you sure you want to carry the burden yourself?”

“I don’t necessarily *want* to, but I will do it,” Owen replied.  “For Kathryn and Gretchen, this will be my burden.”

Liu nodded and stood up.

“Thank you for your help with this, Admiral,” he said.  “I wish you and your family the best.”  And he left.

Owen stood up and walked to his window.  He truly didn’t believe there was anything to be gained by telling the Janeway women what had been on that chip.

“The past is over,” he said to himself, thinking of how Kathryn had finally moved beyond hers and found happiness, at long last.

“The past is dead.  Let it remain so.”

Chapter Text

The reaction to Kathryn’s marriage proposal to Chakotay had been raucous, with more cheering and hugging and laughing than had happened at any other monthly admiralty dinner before.  Admirals called for champagne, waiters passed out multiple glasses, toasts were made, and delicacies were consumed.

The fact that Chakotay had never actually answered Kathryn’s question seemed to escape notice.

Well, Kathryn noticed.  And every time she tried to get close enough to Chakotay to raise a questioning eyebrow at him, one of them got waylaid by someone else wanting to offer marital advice or tell of yet another “even better than Risa” possible honeymoon destination.  It was driving her insane.

Just as she was about ready to stand on a chair and yell at everyone to give her and Chakotay a few minutes of conversation, Starfleet security showed up.  They wanted to interview everyone about the night’s events – the exposure of Alynna Nechayev’s plans, not Kathryn’s proposal, obviously.  In particular, they wanted to speak with Kathryn, Chakotay, and Owen Paris.  And they wanted to speak with them separately.

All three spent several hours enduring thorough, though not unfriendly, debriefing.  They were each released at different times and escorted to their respective homes by security.  Kathryn sat up until well past three a.m. waiting to speak with Chakotay – she left him several messages – until she dozed off on her sofa.

It was about eight when she was awakened by her comm sounding.  She ran to the unit, eager to speak with Chakotay.

Instead she saw her sister.

“Ugh, Phoebe,” Kathryn said, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

Phoebe made a face and said, “Good morning to you, too, beautiful.  You look rough.”

Kathryn groaned and said, “Late night.”

Phoebe grinned and replied, “I’ll bet!  Mom told me about your engagement!  Sounds like you put on quite a show!”

Kathryn yawned and shrugged.

“So,” Phoebe said in a low voice, “any chance I’m gonna see a naked Chakotay walk past the comm?  I wouldn’t mind getting a look.”

Kathryn looked at her sister aghast.

“Phoebe!  I … there is so much wrong with that, I don’t know where to begin!  I had a late night because I had to sit for questioning at Starfleet Headquarters, just like Chakotay did!  I haven’t seen him since last night, I came home and fell asleep on the sofa.  And you are *happily married* Phoebe, you have no business seeing Chakotay naked.  Why would he be walking around naked anyway?”

Phoebe shrugged and said, “Hey, if you like it partially clothed, so be it.  But there’s nothing wrong with me wanting a peek.  Matt knows.”

“I do,” Matt called to Kathryn from offscreen.  In a minute, his face appeared next to Phoebe’s on the screen.

“I have no concerns with Phoebe looking, she knows not to touch,” he said with a grin. 

“I’ve hit this point in my pregnancy where I want to do it ALL THE TIME,” Phoebe confessed.  Then she gave Matt a sloppy kiss on the cheek, and he stepped away.

“Luckily, I have a husband with remarkable stamina.  And if a look at your fiancé’s uncovered ass gets me going, he’s OK with it.”

Kathryn shook her head and said, “You two are so weird.”

Phoebe dismissed that with a wave of her hand, then her face turned serious.

“So, you want to tell me how Mom got all wrapped up in one of your little Starfleet controversies.”

“That was mostly on Owen,” Kathryn replied with a sigh.  “He was the first one to suggest she might have something important to tell, and he was right.  We wouldn’t have been able to put together any kind of decent plan against Nechayev without her.”

Kathryn leaned forward against her desk and rested her cheek on her hand.  She smiled a little thinking of the previous night.

“You should have seen her, Phoebe.  When Owen suggested we bring her to the admiralty dinner, I was so angry.  I made him keep a transporter lock on her the entire time.  But we needn’t have worried.  She owned that room the moment she walked in.  Every admiral in there was in awe of her.  I think it’s been so long since I have thought of her as anything other than ‘Gretchen in her kitchen’ that I had forgotten the fortitude she needed to be Daddy’s support.  I had forgotten how many of those officers she had known since their academy days.  I had forgotten how she doesn’t quake at the sight of pips and bars.”

Kathryn then laughed, falling forward towards her screen.

“Oh, Phoebe, if you could have seen the look on Nechayev’s face!  I swear, Mom grew three feet taller during her grilling of the admiral.”

Phoebe smiled and said, “I don’t suppose there’s a recording.”

“I highly doubt it,” Kathryn replied.  “But I am sure there are many who will be happy to act it out for you.”

Kathryn leaned back in her chair and said fondly, “Daddy would have been proud.”

“Hmmm,” Phoebe responded.  “And then you showed her up with that proposal?”

Kathryn shrugged and said, “I improvised.”

“That’s quite an improvisation,” Phoebe said.  “But congratulations!  I can’t wait to see Chakotay.”

Kathryn didn’t respond.

Phoebe looked curiously at her sister.

“Everything okay?”

Kathryn was silent for a moment or two more, then her brow furrowed.

“He didn’t say ‘yes,’” she said evenly.

Phoebe’s mouth dropped and her eyebrows shot up, and she gasped, “He turned you down?!?!”

Kathryn shook her head, frowning.

Now Phoebe looked confused.

“Did he tell you he would think about it?” she asked.

Kathryn shook her head again and pulled her feet into her chair, resting her chin on one knee.

“We never got close enough to one another for him to actually answer me.  One minute, I am at the podium, looking at him sitting there, smiling, and all I could think was how much I want to spend forever with him.  So I asked him to marry me, and before I can see any kind of reaction in his eyes, the room goes wild.”  

As she remembered the scene and felt increasing irritation, Kathryn started talking faster and louder.

“Then all these admirals start surrounding us, handing us champagne and offering to officiate at the ceremony.  And I try to get closer to him, but more people keep getting in my way.  Then mom drags in some manager from the hotel to talk to me about the wedding packages they offer, and ….”

Kathryn rose from her chair, her agitation and frustration making it impossible to sit still.

“…. And all I want is to find Chakotay and tell him I love him and get an answer, and I get away from mom and the hotel manager.  And just as I am FINALLY about to reach him, Starfleet security comes in to take Owen, Chakotay, and me away, separately, to give affidavits about Nechayev.  I didn’t get home until almost one o’clock, and I commed him three times over the next two hours.  When YOU called, I was hoping it would be Chakotay, but it wasn’t.  It was YOU.”

Kathryn stood in front of the comm screen with her hands on her hips.  She was giving her sister a classic Delta Quadrant “death glare.”

Phoebe was silent for a moment, then she said, “Katie, you are frustrated, and I get it.  I feel I should point out, though, that *I* haven’t done anything to you.”

With a groan, Kathryn sat back down.

“I know, Phoebe.  I’m sorry.  I’m just … I’m mad.  I’m just MAD.  What is it with me and engagements, anyway?”

Phoebe shrugged and replied, “This isn’t your worst.  No one has died, no one has ended up stranded on the other side of the galaxy.”

Kathryn rolled her eyes and said, “Yeah, well, the day is young.”

Phoebe leaned towards her screen and said, “He is going to show up any minute, look deep into your eyes and say, ‘Yes.’  Then he will apologize and say ‘Yes’ until you tire of the word.”

Kathryn sat in petulant silence for a moment, then said, “That wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

“And then he will take you in his arms and … wait, have you two had sex yet?”

“No.”

Phoebe threw her hands up in exasperation.

“Why the hell not?”

“We’ve been going steady,” Kathryn replied, a little defensively.  “You know that.  No ‘wandering hands’ until that’s done.”

“You know, your hands aren’t the only things that can wander.”

“Shut up.”

Phoebe grinned and said, “I believe your friend Seven made it clear that Chakotay is interested in all kinds of activities, including mouth to genital ….”

“I said SHUT UP!” Kathryn yelled, but she was laughing.  Phoebe joined her.

“All I’m saying, Katie, is that maybe you can turn Chakotay’s oversight into an opportunity.  Make-up sex is usually a lot better than first-time sex.”

Kathryn considered that for a moment. Then her smile widened, and her heart began to beat more quickly.

“Phoebe, my dear sister, when you are right, you are right.”

------------

Chakotay had been released by Starfleet Security around midnight.  The officers told him that Kathryn and Owen were still being interviewed, and would probably be occupied for another hour or two.  So Chakotay went back to his apartment.

His mind was jumbled.  Alynna Nechayev had, in 24-hours, gone from being a fleet admiral who was going to cause his death to a disgraced officer “soon to retire,” and likely a person about to spend a hell of a lot of time in the company of some very unpleasant Section 31 personnel.  

And Kathryn had proposed to him.  Kathryn proposed.  To him.  

It had been jarring, to go from extreme stress and fear at the start of the day to joy by the end.  He went onto the small patio behind his apartment and attempted to contact his spirit guide, but he couldn’t reach the level of concentration required.  He thought it might help to try and relax, so he stretched out on the patio’s chaise.

The noise of his neighbors woke him hours later.  It was at least eight.

Chakotay got up, stretched, and went back inside for a shower.  Under the stream of water, he found his mind was still pretty jumbled.

Kathryn wanted to marry him.  She said so in front of all of those people.  He had witnesses.  Starfleet officers, captains, admirals.  Hell, even her mother.

He went over the scene in his mind repeatedly.  Chakotay was operating on auto-pilot as he finished his showed, got dressed, and headed to his living room.  He had no idea how much time had passed, all he could see in his mind’s eye was Kathryn smiling at him from the podium.  Then asking her question.

He sat on his couch and found he couldn’t sit still.  So he got up and started straightening the living room, which was already ridiculously tidy.

No, he needed to sit and think.  After Kathryn proposed to him, he tried to get to her, but every damned admiral in the room got between them.  He would break away from one, and two more would appear.  And it wasn’t just the admirals.  He wasn’t sure, but he really thought he recalled someone from the hotel asking him how large their wedding would be.

Wedding?  What the hell?  He needed to answer Kathryn, to take her into his arms and kiss her, he wasn’t planning a wedding.

His stomach flipped – he’d never answered her.  

Oh, hell.

Chakotay ran to his comm – dammit, he had four messages from Kathryn.  She had called him as soon as she got home from questioning.  And again a little after that.  Then two more times.  The last time, she looked exhausted and a little nervous.

“Chakotay, I think I am going to go to bed,” the worn-out imaged of Kathryn said.  “I am sorry I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about everything that happened tonight.  I … I want to know how you feel about it.  I know we aren’t done ‘going steady,’ but … I hope … I hope it’s okay.  Just … just contact me when you can.  I love you.”

Chakotay sighed heavily – he couldn’t believe he missed her calls because fell asleep on the patio.  He needed to get to Kathryn immediately.

As he changed clothes, he thought about the previous evening.  Kathryn’s proposal.  Why hadn’t he shouted ‘YES” as soon as she asked?

He sat on his bed and thought about everything that happened at the St. Francis.  He kept going back to the moment that Admiral Nechayev had suggested Kathryn needed to choose between her career and Chakotay.  Kathryn had smiled at him, she’d had such love in her eyes, and she told Nechayev that it was an easy choice.  Kathryn chose Chakotay over her career.

But did she?  Chakotay knew, and he was sure Kathryn knew, that there was no force behind Nechayev’s implied threat.  Everyone in the room knew she was done for by that time.  Kathryn hadn’t made a choice, not a real one, because there wasn’t one she *had* to make.

“But she proposed,” Chakotay reminded himself.  

Then the voice of his insecurities asked, “Why then?  Why that moment?  Was it because she had an audience?  Was she trying to prove something to him?  To herself?”

Chakotay got up and quickly finished dressing.  He needed to see Kathryn as soon as possible, in person.  Not over a comm.

He needed to give her an answer.  He knew what he wanted to say, and he knew exactly what he wanted.  But first, he needed to make sure he understood the question.

------------

Kathryn had just gotten out of the shower. She was wearing a blue fuzzy robe and had her hair wrapped in a towel.  She heard knocking at her door - she knew the knock.

She ran to answer it, pausing as she approached the foyer.  She realized she was nervous – like, really, light-headed nervous.  It occurred to her this was the kind of nervous she probably would have felt had she planned to propose to Chakotay and had been waiting for the moment.

“No reason to be nervous, no reason, no reason,” she muttered to herself as she opened the door.

There he stood, her Handsome Man.  Holding a peace rose.  Of course.

He smiled at her and held out the rose to her.

“My Kathryn,” he said softly.

Kathryn grinned and took the rose.  She stepped back to let him in.  When he entered, she shut the door and started past him saying, “I guess we have a few things to talk about, do you want coffee ….”

But he had shot his arm around her waist, turned her to face him, and pulled her body tight against his.

“Uh-uh,” he murmured, “First things first.”  And he pressed his lips and tongue against hers, kissing her as deeply as he ever had.

She dropped the rose.

Kathryn returned the kiss with a fervor she didn’t know she had, at least not this early in the day, not without several cups of coffee.  She gipped his shirt with one hand and reached for the back of his head with the other.  He pushed her to the wall, and the towel on her head began drooping forward.  When it got in Chakotay’s way, he pulled it off her head and ran his hands through her heavy, damp mane.

“Kathryn right out of the shower smells like lavender,” he thought as he continued to kiss her.  

He loved lavender. 

Chakotay and Kathryn continued like this for a while, pressed against one another in her foyer, looking as though they might be content to spend the rest of their lives in that moment.  But this was the kind of kiss that either had to turn into something else, or it had to stop.  The both felt what they wanted, both felt what the other wanted.  If Chakotay had picked her up and taken her right there, against the foyer wall, she would not have objected.  If Kathryn had asked him to do that very thing, he would not have turned her down.

But ….

But they needed to talk.  So they slowed their kisses, both really kind of hating it.

Kathryn’s mind was all over the place – the way his hands felt, how his tongue tasted, the heat between the two of them, how the belt on her robe had magically loosened, how simple the fastener on his pants looked, and how easy it would be to undo it.

Her mind was now on his pants as he slowly kissed her neck, and, breathless, she said, “Phoebe wants to see you naked.”

Chakotay stopped kissing her neck.

“I’m sorry, Phoebe wants what?”

Kathryn, still a little dazed from the kisses, had to think about what she said.  

“Oh,” she said, as if realizing an error, “No, that’s not what I meant.  Well, I guess in a way, it is.  She called me this morning.  She asked about you.  She’s pregnant, and really horny.”

Chakotay’s straightened, one arm around her waist and the other on her neck, and he looked at Kathryn with his eyes wide.

“Uhhhhh ….”

“Wait, no,” Kathryn said, letting go of Chakotay and stepping to the side.  She ran her hand through her still-damp hair and started laughing.

“Chakotay, you came in and started kissing me like that when I’ve had little sleep and only one cup of coffee – it’s a wonder I’m able to talk at all.  Come on, let me get articulate, then we can talk.”

They walked to the kitchen, hand-in-hand.  Kathryn downed half a cup of dark roast then gave an abbreviated description of Phoebe’s call.  The first part of it, anyway.

“… so she looks but doesn’t touch, and Matt reaps the rewards,” Kathryn said as she handed Chakotay a cup of coffee.

Chakotay shook his head and replied.  “I’m going to have to pretend that doesn’t make me a little uncomfortable, I guess.  Why did she think I would be walking around your house naked anyway?”

Kathryn gave him a side-eyed look.

“Because she talked to our mother.  Who told her about last night.  And things that happened.”

Chakotay took a long sip on his coffee and nodded.

Kathryn added, “Like when I asked you a question.  One I don’t believe you every actually answered.”

Chakotay set down his coffee and took Kathryn’s hand.  He lifted it to his lips and kissed it gently.  Then he opened his hand and pressed his palm against hers, intertwining their fingers.  Just as their hands had been all those years ago on New Earth, when he told her about the Angry Warrior.

Kathryn held her breath, looking at him intently.  He smiled and said, “I want to talk to you about your question.  Could we do that?”

“Yes,” she whispered.  But her stomach fell through her feet.

Chakotay led them into the living room.  He sat on the couch and pulled her down with him, onto his lap.  He was determined to maintain physical contact with her during this conversation. 

Kathryn sat stiffly on his lap.  She was anxious as hell – was he about to turn her down?

“Kathryn, before I answer your question, I need to ask you a question of my own.  Why did you propose to me last night?”

She turned in his lap a little to look him in the eye.

“Why?  I would think the nature of my question would tell you – I asked you to marry me because I want you to marry me.”

“Okay,” Chakotay said.  “But why last night?”

Kathryn shook her head confusedly and said, “I guess it just seemed like the right time, I don’t know.  I saw you there, and I knew I wanted us to marry.  Is it a problem that I asked you last night?”

Chakotay sat silently for a moment, stroking her back.  Part of him really didn’t want to pursue this, it all went back to his insecurities.  And he hated still being insecure about this.  But he needed to know.

“I think part of me wonders if you proposed to me last night because of the audience, and not because of me,” he said quietly.

Kathryn leaned back to stare at him.

“You think I asked you to marry me because we were in front of all of those admirals?” she asked in disbelief.

When he didn’t respond immediately, she slid off his lap into a position next to him.  She leaned over to look him in the eye.  

“Chakotay,” she said softly, “look at me.”

He turned to face her.  Kathryn was amazed by the vulnerability she saw in his eyes.  She took his hands into hers.

“You’re worried I didn’t mean it,” she said simply.

Chakotay sighed and said, “Not exactly.  Not really.  I know you love me.”

“But …,” prompted Kathryn.

“But,” Chakotay echoed.  “I guess I don’t know who proposed to me.  Was it the officer or the woman?”

Kathryn felt a tiny spark of anger light inside her.  She closed her eyes for a moment to will it away.  Anger didn’t help right now. 

“I’ve spent so many years trying to be two different people to you, haven’t I?” she asked ruefully.

“Kathryn, I …,” Chakotay began, but she held squeezed his hands and shook her head to silence him.

“No, Chakotay, I want you to tell me exactly what went through your head when I asked you that question.  And in the time since.”

“Okay,” he said, and he leaned back into the couch cushions.

“When you first went to the podium, I was just feeling such relief – we were all safe, Nechayev was out of our lives.  And I felt so proud of you, watching you stand in front of that group.  Then you looked at me and … and it made me nervous.”

“Nervous?” Kathryn asked quietly.  “Why?”

Chakotay shrugged and pulled at his ear, saying “Because you were looking at me with such love.  And it felt, I don’t know, inappropriate.  Like you loving me was not something the people in that room should know about, that it would create problems for you.”

Kathryn cringed inside.  She never realized how much Chakotay had internalized the narrative she had forced them both to live by, that Starfleet wouldn’t want them romantically involved.  His insecurities had twisted it, changing it from what she had intended as a way to keep the chain of command strong into something ugly, where it was simply about her and him, regardless of the scenario.

Chakotay continued, “Then you asked me to marry you.  It was like being a star that has gone supernova – an explosion and brightness, world changing.  I couldn’t see or hear anything around me, I just saw you, your smile, and heard you asking me that question.  I heard it over and over, it was on repeat in my mind.”

He was smiling.  It was one of those amazing, dimpled, mile-wide smiles of nothing but joy.

“I remember Tom slapping me on the back, I remember your mother kind of gasping and reaching for my hand.  But still, I only saw you.  I heard someone – Will Riker, maybe – yell ‘answer her!’ and I was about to.  But ….”

And he sighed.  And chuckled. Then sighed again and continued speaking.

“But I couldn’t answer you because you had been enveloped by Starfleet.  You were surrounded, I couldn’t see you.  I had been looking at the woman I love more than anyone in the world, the woman who had just asked me to spend the rest of my life with her, and she had disappeared.  Instead, there was an admiral.”

“Do you know, I didn’t realize until this morning that I never answered you?” he asked Kathryn.  “And I wanted to run over to my comm – I’m sorry I missed your calls, by the way, I accidentally fell asleep on my patio – and just call you and say ‘yes.’  But then those demons started at me … telling me in every way they could think of that you could never actually choose me.  That you are your rank, and that no one deserving of the title ‘admiral’ could ever choose someone like me over Starfleet.”

Kathryn sighed and leaned back into the couch cushions.

“Chakotay, I have to be honest – it bothers me that you see me like that.  I have had to play two different roles in your life, and that caused damage.  But I would have hoped that after these last few months, you would have learned to trust me more.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” he whispered.

“You don’t trust me to not choose Starfleet over you.  So much so that part of you is probably wondering if last night was just something I did to impress the crowd.”

“Kathryn,” Chakotay said, “it’s not you I don’t trust.  It’s me.  I don’t trust myself to be a worthy competitor to Starfleet in your life.  I don’t trust that I won’t be a detriment to your career.  I don’t think I am worried you won’t choose me over duty, I think I am worried you will, that the woman, Kathryn, will choose me.  And the Admiral will resent it.  I am worried I will be forcing those two parts of you further and further apart.”

He turned his head to rest his cheek on the back of the couch and look at Kathryn.

“You scare the shit out of me.”

Kathryn turned her head to rest her own cheek against the couch, mimicking Chakotay’s position.

“Good, because you scare the shit out of me.”

She reached up to stroke his tattoo.

“Is that part of love, though?  Being that vulnerable?  Knowing that this person you adore has in them the power to enrapture or destroy you?  But, somehow, finding it in yourself to trust them to use that power wisely?  And trusting yourself enough to believe you are worthy of it?”

Kathryn’s hand moved to Chakotay’s chest, and she let it rest in its favorite, familiar spot.

“I think you and I got so used to disaster over the years, and so accustomed to walking on eggshells around each other, that maybe we are afraid to live without them.  I know the feeling – when we found out about what Nechayev was planning, it was almost a return to normal life.  I remember thinking, ‘OK, that makes sense.’  I started loving you in the worst of times, Chakotay, when we were being attacked all the time and always one defective gel pack away from complete disaster.  The idea of loving you in times of relative peace is daunting.”

Keeping her hand on his chest, Kathryn sat up.

“Maybe you got so used to having to question my commitment to you, that you don’t really know how to love me without those questions.  But how is that fair, to either of us?”

“It’s not,” Chakotay whispered.  “I want to believe it, Kathryn, I do, I ….”

His voice trailed off.

Kathryn regarded him for a moment, then pulled her legs up onto the couch.  She sat cross-legged next to him, facing him.

“Let me tell you why I proposed last night.  It’s been so long since I have felt truly safe, Chakotay.  I think part of it was lingering anxiety over Daddy and Justin, but I just worked all that out.  I worked it out just in time for Alynna Nechayev to threaten you, me, and our friends.  And for thirty-six hours, fighting that was all-encompassing.  And we fought it, and we won.  We won, Chakotay, you and I.  And in that moment, I felt freer than I have ever felt.”

Kathryn looked up at the ceiling with a smile, then back at Chakotay.

“When Owen called me up to the podium, I felt like the world was mine, I felt unstoppable.  I walked up there, and looked out in the crowd, and all I could see was you.  Your face, your smile.  Your heart – I saw your heart, Chakotay, beating in your chest, and I saw myself in it.”

Chakotay stared at her, mesmerized.

“In that moment, I saw our future.  I saw us laughing, I saw you holding me while I sleep.  I saw you pushing a little girl with your dark hair on a swing, and I was holding an even littler boy nearby.  I saw us dancing at their weddings.  I saw us old together, Chakotay, as much in love then as we are today.”

Kathryn smiled a little at the look on his face.

“I’m no prophet, of course.  Those weren’t visions of a future that will be.  But they are what I want.  In that moment, I finally felt safe and free and able to reach for what I want most in life.  And I didn’t see the admirals in the room, I saw you.  I saw my future with you.”

She reached up to run her thumb across Chakotay’s cheek, to wipe away the tear that had fallen.

“Starfleet is my job, Chakotay.  You are my life.”

He stared at her for another moment, then took her hands in his and rested his forehead against them, much as he had that night they’d sat under her tree and he told her about his family and his pain from Dorvan.  As though he were in prayer.

“Yes,” he whispered into their clasped hands.

“What?” Kathryn asked with a small smile, leaning over to try and get a look at his face.

Chakotay kissed her fingers in his hands then looked at her, smiling, and said, “Yes, I will marry you.”

Kathryn’s smile widened as far as it could go, and she started laughing.

“Really?” she asked.

He nodded happily and said, “Yes.  Absolutely.  You’ve got me.  Let’s get married.”

The he grabbed her and tuned her body so that she was laying across him, her lower back in his lap, her head on the seat of the couch.

“Let me answer you properly,” he said huskily as he leaned down and began to kiss her.

It was a loving, confident kiss that said ‘yes” to a future.  It was an answer to a question.  It was a conversational kiss.

It morphed into a more demanding inquiry of a kiss, though.  Through it, Kathryn silently challenged him for more, asked him, without words, can’t you do a little better than just this?

Chakotay stopped to take a breath and saw her dark eyes, the challenge inherent in her last kiss still stinging his lips.  He looked at her and grinned.  He pulled her up to where she was sitting on his lap, facing him.  His next kiss answered her challenge, saying, oh, you have no idea.

She quickly pulled her hands to his face, pulling away from him.  He looked at her, confused.

“Chakotay,” she asked, her voice low, “if you have accepted my proposal, then does that mean we are no longer going steady?”

Chakotay understood where this was going, and he liked it.

“We are no longer going steady,” he affirmed.

With that, Kathryn moved on Chakotay’s lap.  She opened her robe and let it slide down her back, freeing her arms.  She was now naked, from the waist up, straddling him.

“I guess that means hands can wander,” she said as she closed the gap between them.

Whatever passion they had felt for one another before became nothing.  These kisses were hungry.  They demanded more, exponentially.  Eventually, Chakotay pulled Kathryn's torso to his own and started running his hands, his mouth, his tongue down her neck, to her shoulders, down to ….

Chime.

The front door chime sounded.

Chakotay looked up at Kathryn.  She sat frozen, waiting.  When they didn’t hear anything, she turned to him and said, “Ignore it,” and started kissing him again.

Chime, chime.

Chakotay sighed and leaned his head back.  Kathryn whispered, “Whoever it is will go away.”

Chime, knock-knock-knock-knock-knock.

“Katie!”

It was Gretchen.

Damn, damn, damn.

Kathryn shot up from the couch and adjusted her robe, getting a look in the mirror at her flushed face and her damp hair sticking up all over the place.  She saw her towel on the floor where Chakotay had thrown it earlier.  She picked it up and twisted it back onto her head.

She turned to look at Chakotay, who had been smoothing his shirt and putting the couch cushions back in order.

“Uhh, here, take this,” Kathryn said quickly as she handed him her copy of Dr. Love’s book, which had been laying on the coffee table.

“Why?” Chakotay asked in confusion.

“Open the book – and cover … that problem … up, cover it up,” Kathryn replied, pointing to the bulge in his crotch.

Kathryn ran to answer the door.  Chakotay did as he was told and opened the book to the least arousing chapter he knew of, the one that covered the impact of increasing rates of sexually transmitted diseases on romance and dating in the 20th century.  

Ah, there it was.  And there are pictures, good.  Lots of terrible pictures.  Yep, those genitals have a rash.

Chakotay felt his “problem” diminishing at a record rate.

By the time Gretchen came into the living room, Chakotay was able to stand without fear of embarrassment.  Kathryn raised a questioning eyebrow.

As Gretchen went to get a cup of coffee, Kathryn leaned over and whispered to Chakotay, “That was quick.”

He whispered back, “Nothing for you to worry about ma’am.  When I am properly motivated, there is nothing about me you would criticize as ‘quick.’”

“Promises, promises, Captain,” she replied with a smirk.

It was only Gretchen’s return to the living room that kept Chakotay from telling Kathryn, in excruciating detail, exactly how he intended to live up to that promise.

“What brings you here, mom?” Kathryn asked.

“Oh, we need to talk about the wedding, honey,” Gretchen replied as she took a seat across from Chakotay.  “I assumed you must have been taken with the idea of marrying at the St. Francis, and that’s why you proposed last night.”

Kathryn made a face and said, “Uh, no, mom, I don’t want to get married at the St. Francis.  Do you, Chakotay?”

“Ahhhhh,” he began.  But he didn’t finish, he just left his response as that.

Gretchen stared at him for a moment then rolled her eyes.

“Okay, no hotel wedding, it seemed a little bourgeois for you two.  So can you at least tell me *when* you want to get married?”

Kathryn and Chakotay looked at each other blankly.

“We haven’t really discussed it,” Chakotay said with a shrug.

Gretchen sighed and replied, “I guess the question is, how long do you want to wait before you are married?”

Kathryn said, “I don’t want to wait.”

Gretchen chuckled and said, “I know, I know.  But we need ….”

She stopped talking, though, when Kathryn jumped off the couch and started walking around.

“Engagements and me don’t really work out,” Kathryn said to Chakotay.  “So why should we wait to get married?  Didn’t you tell me that Sekaya is on her way here?  When will she arrive?”

“In four days,” Chakotay said with a wide grin.

Kathryn turned to her mother and said, “I would love to get married at home, mom.  Maybe in the back yard.”

“Under your tree?” Gretchen asked with a smile.

Kathryn straightened and looked at Chakotay.  She smiled and said, “Under our tree.”

Chakotay stood up and walked over to Kathryn.  He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead.

“Almost all of the people we would want to come are either here on Earth, or they are on their way,” he said to Kathryn.

They stared at each other, feeling whatever remained of the tension and doubts discussed earlier melting away.  Then they both turned to Gretchen.

“So, would the two of you like to get married under your tree on the farm, in about five days?” Gretchen asked.

“Yes,” Kathryn and Chakotay replied in unison.

Chapter Text

At Gretchen’s insistence, Kathryn and Chakotay went to Indiana with her that afternoon to help with the planning for their wedding. 

“Mom, isn’t this something you can just … I don’t know … do?” Kathryn asked plaintively.

The look Kathryn got in return was an answer.

So now they were all in the Janeway family kitchen, each with a portable comm unit.  Kathryn and Chakotay were contacting the people they wanted to come to the wedding – their Voyager crew, old friends, new friends, etc.  Gretchen was having a lively discussion with someone about tents.

Chakotay watched her for a moment then turned to Kathryn to ask, “How much can there possibly be to say about tents?”

“Circus tents, probably,” Kathryn muttered.  “The way this is going, our wedding is going to be a three-ring circus.”

Chakotay sighed and said, “Well, she wasn’t wrong when she said that if we wanted our crew there, it would end up being a … what did she call it?”

“’Big Ass Shindig,’” Kathryn responded.

“Yeah, a ‘Big Ass Shindig.’  And I suppose even a ‘Medium Ass Shindig’ has a lot of moving parts.”

“I know,” Kathryn conceded in exasperation, “but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Hmm,” Chakotay replied softly.  “And what would My Kathryn like?”

Kathryn looked sideways at him and smiled at what she saw in his eyes – love, humor, and not a little desire.  He smiled back and crooked his index as an invitation to join him in the comfy chair.  She walked slowly to him and planted herself on his lap, laying her head on his shoulder.

She said, “Your Kathryn would like to just walk with you to my – sorry, to our – tree and simply be married.  No ceremony, no fuss, we would just become married.  Just you, me, and the quiet of the afternoon.  Then we would walk back to the house and share our happiness with everyone we love.  Then we would slip away to some wonderful place that had nothing but a bed, a bathtub, and a replicator, and make love to one another forever.”

Chakotay leaned his head over to nuzzle Kathryn’s neck and whispered, “If your mother hadn’t shown up when she did, where do you think we’d be right now?”

Kathryn’s answer was somewhere between a sigh and a moan.

Chakotay pulled her to him to begin kissing her, but then they were both hit with a small, throw pillow.

“Uh-uh,” Gretchen commanded, “Not until we get a lot more work done – and definitely not here.” 

Kathryn unenthusiastically pulled herself up from Chakotay’s lap and walked to her mother.  

“You get your tent problem worked out?” she asked.

“Yes, and even if all 150-175 people you are inviting show up, I will have places to put all of them if it rains,” Gretchen said with a smile.

“I doubt anywhere near that many will show up,” Chakotay said.  “I can tell you at least 20 Voyagers who can’t come – they are off planet, tied up with a job, etc.”

“You might get a few uninvited guests,” Phoebe said as she walked in with Matt.

“Huh?” Kathryn responded.

Phoebe took the padd from Kathryn’s hand and called up the FedNews broadcast from a half-hour ago.  They all heard and announcer say:

And the big Fleet news of the day, Admiral Alynna Nechayev has announced her sudden retirement.  Sources say she was forced to retire due to some controversial decisions she made regarding the crew of the USS Voyager, the famous starship that returned to Earth after seven years lost in the Delta Quadrant about a year-and-a-half ago.  And in potentially related news, the former captain and first officer of that renown ship, the current Admiral Kathryn Janeway and Captain Chakotay, have decided to marry at the end of this week.  Insiders tell us that the wedding will take place at the Janeway farm in rural Indiana.

“Insiders?” Kathryn asked angrily.  “What the hell?”

“Somebody probably made an innocent comment to the wrong person,” Chakotay said, but he also looks pretty irritated.  “Starfleet will provide us with security on Friday, we’ll keep them off the property.”

Matt cleared his throat and said, “Any chance you can get them here before Saturday?  Like, maybe, right now?”  And he pointed towards the front window.

Gretchen, Kathryn, and Chakotay rushed to the window, with Phoebe and Matt following.  They all looked on the front lawn where they saw about half-a-dozen individuals with holo-imagers milling around, some capturing footage of the farm, and one speaking directly into a camera.

“Oh, like hell …,” Gretchen muttered and she stalked to the front door.

“Gretchen,” Chakotay called as he started to follow her, but Phoebe grabbed his arm and said, with a chuckle, “Let her go, Chakotay, she’s handled this kind of thing before.”

Kathryn, watching her mother chewing out the collection of reporters, asked, “From when Voyager was lost, or when we returned?”

“Both,” Phoebe answered.  Then she added slowly, “But that’s not what I meant.”

Kathryn looked at her sister questioningly, but Phoebe didn’t say anything.

Then Matt said, “We had media show up at our wedding.  Some of the same ones that are outside now, I think.  I guess certain reporters remain assigned to this area, or to Voyager-related news.”

“FedNews came to your wedding?  Why?” Chakotay asked in surprise.

Phoebe sighed responded, “It wasn’t that long after Starfleet got word of your survival, and the public was very interested in ‘heart-tugging’ stories about the families of the Voyager crew.  I guess someone, somewhere, thought that the story of mom planning my wedding, when her oldest daughter was alive but forever out of her reach, was what people wanted to hear.  ‘Poor Mrs. Janeway, lost her husband to Starfleet, and now she is left to give away her youngest daughter alone, never to share a similar day with her oldest.’  So that’s the story they told.”

Matt reached over to lovingly brush a lock of hair out of Phoebe’s eyes.  

“It was ridiculous,” he said to Kathryn and Chakotay.  “Gretchen is the strongest woman I’ve ever met, present company included.  They made her out to be an object of pity.  And, of course, I was the villain, taking her only remaining family away from her.  Less than five miles away, but that was never mentioned.”

Kathryn reached to take her sister’s hand and asked, “Phoebe, why didn’t you ever tell me?  I am so sorry!  Your wedding day should have been your own, not an extension of the Voyager story.”

Phoebe hugged Kathryn and said, “You have nothing to be sorry for, Katie, you didn’t do anything.  Those vultures had a story they wanted to tell, so they did.  The question is, what story do you think they want to tell with your wedding?”

No one had a chance to respond, as Gretchen came in at that moment, slamming the door behind her.

“Which one of you has a phaser?” she demanded of Kathryn and Chakotay.

“Neither of us,” Kathryn responded sternly.

Chakotay was looking outside and observed, “They all appear to be gone, I think you did fine without a weapon.”

At that moment, the signals from the house comm and the two portable comms Kathryn and Chakotay had been using started sounding.

“I might know what that’s about,” Gretchen said sheepishly.  And she hurried to her own unit.  The two couples exchanged worried looks and followed her.  

Gretchen looked at her unit and said, “Uh-oh, it’s Owen.”  And she answered.

The picture came up and they saw Owen and Tom Paris.  Or, they assumed it was them.  Both men were hunched over, in a way their faces couldn’t been seen, and they appeared to be shaking.

“Are they crying?” Phoebe whispered, concerned.

“Tom, Owen, are you all right?” Gretchen asked.

Owen finally looked up and they saw his face was beet red. He had tears flowing down his eyes.  He took a deep breath, but then Tom said something, and they both fell forward again.

With laughter.  They were laughing.

Tom slipped from view, apparently so overcome that he had to lay on the floor.

“Gretchen Janeway,” Owen finally said as he gasped for air, “I swear, you are going to be the death of me!”

“Or me!” said an older woman who appeared onscreen just behind Owen, her face just as red and tearstained as Owen’s and Tom’s.

“Julia, what happened?” Kathryn asked.

“Oh, nothing, your mother just made me pee on myself a tiny bit, that’s all,” Julia Paris replied as she tried to get a hold of her laughter.

Owen said, “Kathryn, I can’t believe you let her do that.”

“She wasn’t there,” Gretchen said, “neither was Chakotay.  They were all inside.”

Tom popped back up into the picture, and he asked gleefully, “So they don’t know, they haven’t seen it?  Oh, let me call it up I want to see their faces.  Mom, go get B’Elanna, she’s going to want to see this.”

Tom ordered his father’s computer to play the FedNewsLive report from a few minutes earlier, and a recording started playing on both comms.

A FedNews reporter with the name “Shelley Reeves” displayed under her image was talking to a news anchor in a studio.  The Janeway home was in the background.

“… on good authority that the prospective groom is inside the Janeway house right now, Ken.”

“Shelley, have you seen … wait, is that someone coming up behind …,” but before Ken could his statement, Shelly was hit in the head.  With a pine cone.  That had come from the hand of one thoroughly pissed off Gretchen Janeway.

“Ow!” the reporter said as the cone fell to the ground.

“What the hell are you doing here? Get off my property!” Gretchen angrily demanded of the crowd as the FedNews crew continued filing.  She picked up the pine cone she had previously thrown at Shelley Reeves and now threw it at a group of retreating photographers.

The FedNews reported was not to be deterred, though.

“Hi, I’m Shelley Reeves with FedNews, is it true that Captain Chakotay is inside this house right now?  Will he or Admiral Janeway be coming out to make a statement?”

Gretchen whipped around to face the FedNews camera.

“I said, get off my property!”

The reporter said, “Is this your property?  I don’t think you identified yourself, what did you say your name was?”

Gretchen stared daggers at the reporter and replied, “My name is None.  Of.  Your.  Business.”

A noise like a snort came from whoever was holding the camera.  He said sarcastically, “Great name, can you tell me how to spell that?”

Gretchen got closer to the camera, until her face filled the screen.

“I sure can,” she replied, “it’s spelled F – U – C -….”

The video quickly returned to Ken in the FedNews studio.

“Aaaaannnd, we’ll get back to Shelley in just a little while.  In the meantime, let’s go to T’Jahl with the weather ….”

Owen or Tom shut down the video – no one at the Janeway home cared because they were all looking at Gretchen with their mouths open.

“Mom!” Kathryn and Phoebe both said in shock.  Matt and Chakotay walked quickly away – their reactions were much closer to that of the Parises, and neither felt particularly safe collapsing in laughter quite so near to their irritated loves.

“Oh, hush,” Gretchen said, trying unsuccessfully not to smile.  “They had it coming.  And like the two of you have never let loose with language.”

“Not during a live broadcast,” Phoebe retorted.

Kathryn just shook her head, looking first at her mother, then at her mentor.  Owen was trying to pull himself together, but he was still pretty broken up.

“Is she going to get fined for this?” Kathryn asked him.  Because FedNews was broadcast to all aligned worlds, many of which were still rather prudish when it came to language, it was not uncommon for significant fees to be levied against Federation citizens who violated broadcast standards in such a public way.

“If she does, Tom and I will contribute to paying it,” B’Elanna said, having just joined the conversation.

“I doubt that will be necessary,” Owen said, still chuckling.  “They *were* trespassing, you were defending your property, albeit in a rather colorful way.”

Gretchen smirked at her two daughters, both of whom rolled their eyes.

Owen then asked, “Where did Chakotay go?  Kathryn, I need to speak with you, your mother, and Chakotay, for just a moment.  There’s nothing to worry about, I just need to discuss something with you.”

Phoebe said, “He and Matt went to the study where they could laugh without getting in trouble, I’ll go get him.”

In a few moments, Chakotay came back into the living room, looking a little sheepish.  Kathryn gave him a mock glare and shook her head – he just walked over to Gretchen and gave her a big hug.

“We definitely could have used you in the Delta Quadrant,” he said to her.

Gretchen smiled and replied, “So I keep being told.”  She looked at the comm and asked, “What do you need, Owen?”

“I need the three of you to come to Headquarters tomorrow, possibly for the entire day.  There’s a hearing for Alynna tomorrow – just a formality, but they want to hear from me, the three of you, and Admiral Liu.  At the end of the hearing, Alynna will be allowed to retire, and then she will become an uncompensated ‘consultant’ to Section 31.  So long as she proves useful to them, she will receive her retirement benefits.  If they determine she is holding back on them, or is feeding them false information, her retirement will be cancelled and she will face a full court martial.”

Owen paused for a moment and looked in the direction Tom and B’Elanna had walked a few minutes before.

“It’s not prison,” he sighed, “but for Alynna, it will be pretty damned close.  And if she honors her end of the agreement, Starfleet ought to be able to flush out any lingering elements of the Obsidian Order.  That would be a very good thing.”

Kathryn, Chakotay, and Gretchen all exchanged glances.  Chakotay said, “It’s probably as good a deal as we are going to see.  If she goes to prison, Starfleet will have provide a number of explanations to the public.  I can’t image they want to do that.”

“They don’t,” Owen affirmed.  “How about you three meet me at my office at 0730?  We’ll grab some breakfast then go to the hearing rooms.”

“We’ll be there,” Gretchen replied firmly.

Kathryn shrugged and said, “I guess we’ll be there, then.  See you in the morning, Owen.”  And she shut off the comm.

She turned to speak, but Gretchen jumped in first.

“That means we have one less day get things done.  You two are not going anywhere, and no more hanky-panky on my furniture, either, we have a wedding to plan.”

------------

Kathryn and Chakotay were in Indiana until almost midnight nailing down the various wedding details that Gretchen deemed “critical to success.”  Whatever romantic liaisons the couple had hoped to enjoy that night fell victim to their joint exhaustion.

“Getting through Borg space required less planning,” Chakotay muttered at one point.  Then he got hit with another pillow.

On Monday, they all spent the day at Starfleet Headquarters.  The day went pretty much as Owen predicted.  They all offered testimony – Gretchen’s in particular, was very important.  Even though everyone had been told that the data on the “red filly” left by Edward Janeway was irrevocably corrupted, Gretchen’s testimony reinforced the timeline that Starfleet and Section 31 were trying to establish, demonstrating that Nechayev’s improper dealings with the Cardassisans had been going on for decades.

The resolution, though, was a little different from what they expected.  Alynna Nechayev *had* been allowed to retire, but not before she was reduced in rank to Captain.  She would never be known as Admiral Nechayev again.

Watching Alynna absorb the news of her demotion, Kathryn thought she had never seen the woman look smaller – or less powerful.

When the hearing closed at the end of the day, several people stood around talking.  Kathryn and Chakotay were listening to Admiral Hayes thank Gretchen for her assistance, when the three heard a familiar, unpleasant voice say, “Excuse me.”

They turned to see the somewhat chastened face of Commander Erick Greene.

“Admiral Hayes, I am sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to express my sincere apologies to Admiral Janeway and Captain Chakotay.  I had no idea that Admiral – I’m sorry, Captain Nechayev was doing any of that.  I deeply regret any role I played in putting your lives in danger.”

Kathryn and Chakotay glanced at each other, unsure of what to say.

Then Greene added, “And I wanted to congratulate you on your engagement and wish you the best.” 

Chakotay, recovering before Kathryn, replied, “Thank you very much Commander, we appreciate it.”

With a nod at Admiral Hayes, Greene turned and left.  Kathryn and Chakotay turned back to Gretchen and Hayes.

Kathryn shook her head and said, “I still think he’s an asshole.”

“Language, Katie, language,” Gretchen said with a grin.

------------

On Tuesday, Kathryn endured one of the most arduous tasks she’d had since recovering from her accident – shopping in Paris with some of her Love Council.  

During the wedding planning marathon Sunday afternoon, Gretchen had gotten Kathryn and Chakotay to agree to getting married in something other than their dress uniforms.  It’s hadn’t been a difficult task – the couple both thought the new dress whites were hideous.  

Chakotay planned to wear black pants and a simple white shirt.  Kathryn … well, she had no plan.  On Monday, while she waited for her turn to testify at the Nechayev hearing, she realized she had no clue what to wear.  She commed her sister, who immediately send her images of “traditional” wedding attire.

Kathryn had not been enthusiastic and had let Phoebe know during a lunchtime call.

“What, you want me in a white, gauzy dress,” Kathryn asked dryly, “to demonstrate to the world my purity and maidenhood?”

“Like that would be so off the mark at this point,” Phoebe said, making a face.  “Look, those were just pictures, so you could get an idea of what you might like.  You know what you will feel the most comfortable wearing.  And I think you should ask yourself, what will Chakotay want to see you wear?  And what will he have the most fun taking off of you?”

Kathryn was silent.  Chakotay *had* always been very complimentary and attentive on Voyager when she occasionally wore certain dresses to ship events.  And his compliments and attention had always made her feel wonderful.

“OK,” she said with a sigh, “I guess an actual shopping trip is in order.  What should we do?”

The stores that Phoebe tended to frequent were better suited to her artist personality than Kathryn’s style.  So the sisters contacted Beverly Crusher, who immediately had a suggestion.

“We should go to Paris.  We can get you a dress, plus anything you might want for your honeymoon.  Where are you going?”

“Venice,” Kathryn responded with a small frown.  “What do I need to purchase for my honeymoon?  My regular non-Starfleet clothes won’t do?”

“Oh for pity’s sake,” Phoebe muttered.

Beverly smiled indulgently and replied, “I am sure they will be fine for walking around any town in Italy.  But how much time do you intend to spend outside of your hotel room?”

“I guess we’ll … see some sights … but … um,” Kathryn responded uncertainly.

“And given the ‘sights’ Chakotay is likely the most interested in seeing, do you think your regular, non-Starfleet lingerie will do?”  Beverly added.

Kathryn got a faraway look in her eyes.  She was imagining a beautiful suite in Venice with Chakotay … and the current state of her underwear drawer.

She nodded at Beverly and Phoebe on the screen and said, “I concede your point.”

Beverly almost squealed with happiness, saying “Oooooo, yea, shopping in Paris!  I am going to call Deanna, she knows where to find the best things.  Phoebe, you call B’Elanna.  Kathryn, do you think your mother would want to come?”

“Absolutely NOT,” Kathryn responded immediately, “I am *not* shopping for honeymoon lingerie with my mother.”

It ended up just being four of them in Paris – B’Elanna was busy helping Tom plan the engagement party, which was happening the night before the wedding.  Plus, as she told Phoebe, she considered shopping for clothes to be about as enjoyable as child birth, and she already had one of those on the schedule.

The Amended Love Council enjoyed a light breakfast at a Paris café recommended by Jean-Luc, then they hit the shops.  Eight hours later, Kathryn transported back to her San Francisco home with dozens of packages – bags with understated floral designs, boxes tied together with silk ribbons, etc.  

As she surveyed the piles of wares that littered her living room, she felt petty embarrassed at the indulgence it all represented.  But she hadn’t purchased much of it – Phoebe, Beverly, and Deanna paid for many items.  She didn’t even pay for her “wedding dress,” as the owner of the boutique where she bought it was so excited to be dressing the famous Admiral, she refused to accept one single credit for the frock.

“Just send me an image of you and the dashing captain after you are married, it will take a place of honor among my wall of happy customers,” the dressmaker Julietta had said as she pointed to a wall of framed images showing different celebrities and Federation luminaries presumably wearing her designs.

Kathryn grinned a little thinking about her dress – she did love it.  Truth be told, there was a tiny part of her, deep down inside, that was feeling a lot of girly, giddy satisfaction over her shopping trip.  The rest of her was bone-tired, though.  She threw herself onto the couch and fell asleep almost immediately.

The door chime woke Kathryn up.  She dragged herself to the door and saw Chakotay through the window.

“Hey, Handsome Man,” she said with a smile … and a yawn.

Chakotay’s eyebrows rose and he replied, with a grin, “My sleepy Kathryn … your trip to Paris must have been something.”

They embraced, but Kathryn yawned again before they could kiss.

“I’ll try not to take that personally,” Chakotay chuckled.  He put his arm around her waist and walked her to the living room.

“Yes, shopping wore me out,” Kathryn said, waving her hand at the packages that covered her furniture and floor.  

“Wow,” Chakotay said, staring at the mess.  Then he said it again, “Wow.”

“It’s your fault, you know,” Kathryn replied as she sat on the couch.

“How do you figure that?” Chakotay asked as he sat next to her.

Kathryn shrugged and said, “Every store we went into, one of them -- Phoebe or Beverly or Deanna – one of them would find something and hold it up and say something like, ‘Oh, I think Chakotay would just LOVE you in this,’ or ‘Imagine Chakotay’s reaction if he saw you in THIS,’ and then the other two would chime in, ooh-ing and aah-ing, and then the store would wrap it up and it would be mine.  If your name wasn’t well-known in Paris before today, it is now.”

Chakotay’s smile widened and, with a twinkle in his eye, he asked, “What kinds of things do you and the Council think I will like seeing you in?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” Kathryn replied with a suggestive grin.  She started to say something else, but then she spotted one of her bags partially open on an armchair.  It was the bag containing the dress she would wear at the ceremony.

“Damn, I was supposed to hang that up as soon as I got home,” she said with irritation.  She got up and grabbed the bag.

“What is it,” Chakotay asked, craning his head for a look.

“You’ll find out on Friday, Captain,” Kathryn said sternly.  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”  She took her bag and headed upstairs.

Chakotay sat on the couch, surrounded by bags, almost dwarfed by them.  They were all so … pretty.  And many of them must have been scented, because there was a definite perfume in the air.

Turning to look at the stack of bags on one side of him, he noticed something blue – it was a lovely shade, paler than Kathryn’s eyes, but in the same color family.  Unable to resist temptation, he reached into the bag to see what this blue thing was.

What slid out of the bag was the most beautiful piece of silk he had ever seen – a negligee, trimmed with gossamer lace of the same blue.  Chakotay lifted the nightgown by its tiny straps.  It was long, probably floor-length on Kathryn.

He pulled the silk across his hands.  It was softer than he ever would have imagined any fabric being, cool to the touch.  

Of course, it would warm up when Kathryn wore it.

He suddenly had a vision of her wearing it, walking towards him, the silk clinging to her.  He saw his hand caressing her hip through the material, then one strap sliding carelessly off her shoulder.

“Feel free to make yourself some tea!” Kathryn called down from her bedroom.

Chakotay shoved the nightgown back into the bag.

“I’m fine for now, thanks!” he called back, coughing a little.

Good grief, what was in these bags?  He knew he didn’t need to look anymore, he shoved the stack closest to him away.  And they all toppled over onto the floor.

“Damn,” he muttered to himself as he reached over to put the bags back on the couch.

Only one bag, a nondescript black bag with white ribbon handles, spilled its contents.  Everything appeared to be wrapped in tissue paper.  Except one thing.

A pair of pale, pink lace panties. 

Chakotay couldn’t help himself, he held them up to examine them.  The color was so soft, it almost has a pearlescent quality to it.    

The lace was exquisite.  Chakotay knew next to nothing about the manufacture of lace, but he could tell that this was not something replicated, it was created.

And there was so little fabric, there was no way this garment had any practical use, it was meant only to entice.  And it was something Kathryn had bought to wear for him.

“See something you like?” she asked.

Chakotay’s head shot up.  She had come back downstairs while he was staring at her new underwear.  She had a grin on her face but, even from a few feet away, he could see her eyes darkening.

“I got those to wear under my wedding dress,” Kathryn said softly.

Chakotay carefully put the underwear back into the bag, then he looked at Kathryn again.  Without realizing it, he licked his lips.

“Chakotay,” Kathryn said huskily as she started towards him.

Chime.

They both looked at the foyer, startled.  Then Kathryn groaned and said, “That will be Beverly and Deanna, they wanted to come over tonight to try different hairstyles on me.  To see what will go best with my dress.”

Chakotay nodded and cleared his throat.

“Guess I’d better leave.”

Kathryn faltered a bit and said, “I really don’t want you to – I haven’t seen you all day.  And … and I had an idea about our wedding presents to each other.  Could you wait here for a minute?”

He nodded silently.  

Kathryn went to the door, and came back in with Beverly and Deanna.  The minute Deanna walked into the living room, her eyes widened.

“Damn,” Chakotay thought.  Deanna was Betazoid – what emotions might she be sensing from *him* right now?  From the look now on her face, he had a pretty good idea. 

Despite not being empathic, though, Beverly also figured out something was in the air.  Or, actually, in Chakotay’s hand.

“Oh, I remember what we got at *that* store,” she said, pointing to the black shopping bag Chakotay still held.  She grinned at him and asked, “Are you supposed to be handling the merchandise before it is modeled for you, Captain?”

Chakotay dropped the bag like it was on fire.  He began edging away from the sofa and all the packages piled there.

“Ladies, why don’t you go upstairs, I will see Chakotay out,” Kathryn said.  

As Beverly and Deanna headed upstairs, Kathryn made her way to Chakotay.  She smiled at him apologetically.  

“Sorry about that,” she said.

Chakotay chuckled and said, “No, it’s … it’s okay.  But I really think I should go.  I don’t think I should spend any more time down here alone with your underwear.”

Kathryn smiled and pressed against him.

“What about tomorrow night?  How would you feel about spending some time alone with my new underwear *and* me?”

Chakotay raised his eyebrows and said, “Interesting.  You know, we really haven’t had a chance to celebrate our engagement.  Not properly.”

Kathryn pressed her lips to his and replied, “And that’s a damned shame.  Certainly, it’s something we can fix.”

Chakotay moved his lips to the side of her mouth and said, “It might take a while.  The entire night, in fact.”

Kathryn grinned and said, “Promises, promises, Captain.”  Then she kissed him.

After a few seconds, Chakotay broke away from her and kissed her forehead.  

“If you continue to kiss me like that in the presence of all this lingerie, I might require medical attention in order to make it home with my sanity and dignity intact.”

Kathryn sighed and pressed her forehead to his shoulder and said, “You’re right.”

“What were you saying about wedding gifts?” Chakotay asked.

“Oh,” Kathryn responded.  “I thought it might be nice if we each write one another one final journal entry.  Give our books back to one another so we can write something between now and Friday, and then read them on our honeymoon.”

Chakotay smiled and said, “I like that.  Actually, I love that.  I’ll bring my journal with me tomorrow night.”

“Hmmm,” Kathryn replied, “tomorrow night.”

“When I plan to give you a night worth writing about,” Chakotay murmured before kissing his love goodnight.

Chapter Text

Kathryn and Chakotay spent most of Wednesday dealing with details – details of the wedding, details of the Post-Nechayev reality of Starfleet, details of media-avoidance, etc.  They both had to make major moves in their professional schedules to accommodate their wedding and honeymoon.  Thankfully, it seemed everyone in Starfleet was happy to oblige.

"I don't know if they are pleased we are getting married, or grateful we helped bust Nechayev," Chakotay remarked.  

And they had to figure out where to put all of Chakotay’s stuff.  While he’d displayed some personal items in his apartment, many of the things he’d collected on Voyager over the years were still in boxes.

“Do you want to just beam it all to the attic and we’ll figure it out when we get back from Venice?” Kathryn asked over a mid-morning comm.

Chakotay shrugged and replied, “Works for me.  I like the way you have your house decorated, I doubt I’ll be asking to make many changes.”

“First of all,” Kathryn said, “it’s *our* house, now, I had your name added to the deed this morning.  Second, I want our home to reflect both of us, not mostly-Kathryn with a touch-of-Chakotay.  Though I do admit to loving the ‘touch of Chakotay.’”

Chakotay laughed and asked, “Did you really? That wasn’t necessary, but thank you.  I’ve never co-owned a home before.”

“We are setting up housekeeping together, Captain, this just makes it a little more ‘official,’” Kathryn responded, her voice full of affection.  “But I was completely serious that I want more of *you* in our home.  For example, I was hoping we could put the sand painting you made on New Earth over the fire place in the first floor.”

“Really?” Chakotay asked.

Kathryn nodded and said, “Absolutely.  Aside from the fact that I love the memories associated with that painting, I think it’s beautiful.  I can’t think of anything better to show that we are starting our life together.”

“Our life together,” Chakotay repeated with a grin, “Speaking of which, I’ve been consulting Dr. Love on what I should expect once we are married.  Did you review what some 20th century relationship experts told soon-to-be-wed young ladies such as yourself?”

Kathryn leaned forward and said, “I don’t remember that in the book.”

Chakotay shook his head and remarked, “You never read the footnotes or the appendices, do you?”

“Let’s pretend I do, but have just forgotten this one, tell me what it says.”

“Okay,” Chakotay said, his grin widening.  “Rule Number One:  Smile every day, you’ll get your way.”

Kathryn nodded and said, “I don’t smile before coffee.”

Chakotay winked and said "Bet I can find a way."

"Challenge accepted, Captain," Kathryn replied.  "Keep reading, please."

“Rule Number Two:  Make him a winner, cook a great dinner.”

“Uhhh …,” Kathryn said.

“Rule Number Three:  Wear pink lingerie, he’ll never stray.”

“You made that up!” Kathryn insisted.  “You looked at my new underwear last night and made that up!”

Chakotay was laughing but able to protest, “I didn’t!  Look!”  And he held up the book for Kathryn to see – and that’s exactly what the third rule said.

“Hmph,” Kathryn responded.  Then she asked slyly, “Do I need to get rid of all my black lace undies?”

“Don’t you dare!” Chakotay said with alarm in his eyes.  He returned to the book.

“Rule Number Four: Never nag or whine, he’ll think you’re fine.”

Kathryn’s brow furrowed in thought.

“I don’t think I whine.  Or nag.  I can be single-minded.”

Chakotay nodded and said, “And that’s why we’re on Earth today and not still in the Delta Quadrant.”

He returned to the book.

“Rule Number Five:  Don’t get mad when he’s bad.”

“Define ‘bad,’” Kathryn replied.

Chakotay rolled his eyes and said, “Yeah, this part is terrible.  Basically, the advice was that if your husband abuses your or cheats on you, you should just put up with it, because that’s what men do.”

Kathryn’s jaw dropped and she asked, “Are you serious?”

“It’s pretty insulting, to both the men and the women,” Chakotay said with a shake of his head.  “Honestly, Kathryn, if I ever come anywhere close to hurting you in either of those ways, I hope you will just phaser me and be done with it.”

“You won’t hurt me like that, physically or emotionally,” she replied firmly.  “You are too good a man for that.”

Chakotay smiled at her confidence in him, then returned to the book.

“Rule number six:  Not happy in bed?  Grin and bear it instead.”

Before Kathryn had a chance to say anything, Chakotay announced, “Not going to be a problem.  I am looking forward to devoting a great deal of time, energy, and creativity to your happiness there.  And I truly believe the only way I get to have fun is if you have fun.”

Kathryn smiled and replied, “And I will be equally dedicated to your happiness in that area.”

“Promises, promises, Admiral,” Chakotay said, mimicking Kathryn’s recent teasing of him.  Then he looked back at the book.

“And completing the list is rule number seven:  Keep a smile on your face, and always know your place.”

Chakotay looked at Kathryn’s face on the screen and raised his eyebrow in question.  She reached for his face on her screen, trailing a finger down the image his cheek.

“What do you think my place is, Chakotay?” she asked with the tiniest hint of a purr in her voice.

Chakotay closed the book, then closed his eyes and smiled.

“By my side,” he whispered in satisfaction.  “Holding my hand, my best friend, my love, my life.”

He opened his eyes and treated himself to her incredible smile.  Then he leaned towards the comm and said, in a low voice, “That’s your *place* Kathryn.  As to *position*, I can think of a number we might both endorse.  I look forward to recurring negotiations on that very question.”

Kathryn glanced at her chronometer and said, “I believe we have our first meeting on that subject in just about eight hours.”

“Seven hours, forty-eight minutes,” Chakotay corrected her.

“Not that you are counting,” Kathryn smirked.

“Oh, Kathryn, I've been counting since you stopped me from kicking Tom’s ass on the bridge of Voyager,” Chakotay replied with a smoldering look.

------------

Dinner had been penne with a light tomato and Bajoran mushroom sauce.  Kathryn had picked it up from the restaurant she’d eaten at with Beverly all those weeks ago.  Chakotay had loved it.

The wine was a Pinot Noir from Picard Vineyards.

Chakotay had made dessert – tiramisu.  He’d picked up the strongest, darkest espresso he could find at the coffee shop near his apartment and soaked the ladyfingers overnight.  The look on Kathryn’s face when she tasted it made the effort more than worthwhile.

They had both dressed for the occasion.  Chakotay was in dark pants and a white button-down shirt.  Kathryn was in a pale, blue linen dress with wide straps.

The conversation had been light, if a little stilted.  It wasn’t that they didn’t have plenty to discuss – the wedding, the honeymoon, the few challenges they had at work trying to rearrange their schedules, etc.  The problem wasn’t a lack of topic, it was them.  They were both nervous, and irritated as hell to be nervous.

After a lengthy silence during dessert, Kathryn set her fork down on her plate and said, “Why do I feel like a teenager who’s about to do something against the rules?”

“You, too?” Chakotay chuckled.  Then he sighed.

“I don’t *know* why I am so nervous,” he said.  “It makes no sense.  We’ve been wanting this for so long ….”

“…. And now we’re here,” Kathryn continued, “and I feel like I might jump out of my skin.”

She leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed.  She looked at Chakotay and asked, “Do you think we are forcing this?  Have we turned this into Borg sex for us both?  We have now reached the appropriate time for copulation, let us follow the schedule?”

At this, Chakotay actually laughed.

“This is not the same thing.  Nowhere near.  This doesn’t feel scheduled.  I guess … I don’t know, I guess maybe we’ve been thinking about it so much, talking about it, that maybe we are putting too much pressure on ourselves.  Maybe we need to just ease into the moment.”

With that, he stood up and held out his hand to Kathryn.

“Dance with me?” he asked with a smile.

She took his hand and stood up.

"Always," she replied.

“Lights, at 30%,” Chakotay ordered.  And the lights lowered.  The candles on the table continued to burn, the tiny bit of firelight making their shadows move.

“Computer,” Kathryn said, “play ‘Our Song,’ on repeat.”  The chords of their song began, the voice of Elvis Presley soon joined.

They held one another and swayed to the music.  They both felt the anxiety of the moment (of the day, of the week, of the last many years) melt away.  

The song ended, then began playing a second time.

“Let’s just dance and breathe,” Chakotay whispered.  His own breath tickled Kathryn’s ear, and she shivered slightly.  Chakotay pulled her closer to him.

Kathryn’s breath was warm against Chakotay’s neck.  Her lips soon followed.

The song ended again, then began playing a third time.

They were both completely at peace in the moment, the fragrance and feel of the other.  It was elemental – as if the entire history of the universe had happened to produce this one result, the unbelievable, magical alchemy of the two of them together.

Chakotay bent his head to kiss Kathryn.  It was a long, sweet kiss.  

Kathryn licked her lips and murmured “You taste good.  Like sweet cream and coffee.”

Chakotay grinned and maneuvered them closer to the table where the remains of their dinner still sat.  He leaned over and, with his index finger, wiped some of the cream off of his half-eaten slice of tiramisu.  He held the finger out for Kathryn and said, a little too innocently, “Care for another taste?”

Kathryn smiled and she pulled his hand towards her mouth.  With the tip of her tongue, she took a little of the cream off his finger.  Then, using her lips, she pulled his finger further into her mouth, caressing it lightly with her tongue the entire way.  When it was all the way in, she sucked on it lightly, looking up at Chakotay with dark eyes.  

Chakotay stared at Kathryn, torn between breathing heavily and not breathing at all. 

As she began to ease his finger out, she reached for the table with her free hand and got two fingers of sweet cream from the remaining dessert.  Chakotay pulled her fingers to his mouth and started licking them.  Some of the cream had melted and was running down Kathryn’s hand, so his tongue followed.  Catching the end of the rivulet of cream at her wrist, he started licking and sucking that part of her skin.

A touch of the cream had gotten on the side of Chakotay’s face, so Kathryn grabbed the back of his neck and brought his face closer to hers so she could lick it off.  Chakotay turned his head to kiss Kathryn fully, their tongues tangling.  

Kathryn suddenly leaned back, breaking the kiss.

“Chakotay,” she said breathlessly as she fingered the buttons on his shirt, “I don’t feel like a teenager anymore.”

As if to emphasize the point, she slid her hands down his back to his behind, and she squeezed both cheeks.

Chakotay moved his hands to the same places on Kathryn, but instead of squeezing, he bent to pick her up. 

“Neither do I,” Chakotay growled in response.  Kathryn wrapped her legs around his waist and resumed kissing him passionately.

She tried saying something, but the kissing got in the way.  Finally Chakotay broke the kiss and looked at her questioningly.

“I said ‘bedroom,’” Kathryn said in her whiskiest voice.

Chakotay turned to take them to the stairs, then to her – their – bedroom ….

Chime.

“No,” Kathryn breathed out and she continued kissing him.  Chakotay kept walking towards the stairs.

Chime.  Chime.  Chime.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Kathryn said sternly as Chakotay paused at the stairs.  “Seriously, Chakotay, if we aren’t naked in about five minutes, I might die.”

Chakotay couldn’t help but grin at that and he started back up the stairs.

Chime.  Chime.

Then a knock.

Then a voice.

“Chakotay, Kathryn, I know you are in there, I have a surprise for you both.”

B’Elanna.

Then another voice.

“Come on, brother, don’t make me let myself in, Kathryn gave me the code.”

Kathryn and Chakotay looked at each other in shock – Sekaya!

Chakotay let Kathryn down and gasped, “She’s not supposed to be here until tomorrow!”

“Apparently she’s early!” Kathryn choked out as she smoothed her dress and hair.  She reached for Chakotay’s shirt to redo the buttons she’d managed to unfasten.

“Lights at 100% -- do I have tiramisu on my face?” Chakotay asked Kathryn as they walked through the living room.  Kathryn shook her head.

“Kathryn, Chakotay, are you coming?”

“Don’t I wish,” Chakotay muttered, and Kathryn slapped him lightly on the shoulder.

They reached the door and opened it.

“Surprise!” B’Elanna said with a bit of uncertainty in her voice.  She’s had some idea that the couple *might* have had plans for that night, but she’d had little choice but to interrupt when her companions commed her from orbit.

“I brought you a couple of early wedding presents,” she said, first pointing to Sekaya.  Then, she reached for someone Chakotay and Kathryn couldn’t see and pulled him into view.

“Tuvok!” they both gasped.

Tuvok nodded in greeting.  T’Pol, his wife, was beside him.

"Admiral, Captain, thank you for inviting us to your nuptial event," Tuvok said.

"We are honored to join your celebration," T'Pol added.

Sekaya jumped into the foyer, grabbing her brother for a hug, and began to talk excitedly.

“I was already on my way here aboard the Yukon because of Owen Paris’s call about Admiral Nechayev’s threat.  Then we got the message over subspace that you two were getting married, and I couldn’t get here soon enough.  About a day ago, we crossed paths with a transport from Vulcan bringing Tuvok to earth.  He came onto the Yukon, they increased their speed, and here we are, about fourteen hours early!  I am so excited we got here in time to help with the wedding!”

Chakotay hugged his sister, and he couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.  He looked at Kathryn, who was also smiling.

B’Elanna spoke again, saying “We came here because Tuvok said he and T’Pol had planned to stay here, at your house, Kathryn, while they’re here for the wedding.”

Kathryn groaned a little inside.  It was true, she had insisted that Tuvok and T’Pol stay in the guest room while on Earth.  But that had been when they were going to arrive the next day, the day before the wedding.  She had planned on staying at her mother’s that night and leave the house to them for the weekend.

She looked at Chakotay.  He gave her a split-second look of misery and then smiled.

“We are so glad all of you are here,” he said as he put his arm around Kathryn.

Everyone came in.  While Kathryn showed Tuvok and T’Pol to the guest room, Chakotay cleared away the dishes from their dinner while he told Sekaya the story of Nechayev’s downfall and Kathryn’s proposal.  When Kathryn came back in, Sekaya asked to use her comm so she could send a message to her husband letting him know she had made it.

“Oh, you cleaned up, thank you,” Kathryn said as she looked at their dinner table.

She walked over to Chakotay and embraced him.  He hugged her back, running his hand through her hair, then kissed her nose.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Me, too” Kathryn whispered back with a rueful smile.

“Oh, no,” B’Elanna said.  She was standing in the kitchen and had watched the couple’s exchange.  “We interrupted a special night.”

Kathryn shook her head and replied, “It’s fine, B’Elanna.”

“It is,” Chakotay agreed.  “We have plenty of nights in our future.”

B’Elanna looked at them more closely.  Kathryn’s hair was a little messy.  One of Chakotay’s buttons was undone.

“Oh, hell, this wasn’t *the* night, was it?” she asked in a loud whisper.  “I mean, the two of you *have* made love before now haven’t you?”

Kathryn shot her friend a look.  B’Elanna groaned and put both hands over her face.

“I am SO sorry,” she said.  Then she pulled her hands down and asked, “What about tomorrow night?”

“We have your husband’s engagement/bachelor/bachelorette party tomorrow night, remember?” Chakotay replied, just a touch of impatience in his voice.

B’Elanna’s eyes got big and she asked, “Does that mean … is this basically going to be a virgin honeymoon for the two of you?”

Chakotay and Kathryn looked at one another.  They hadn’t thought about it like that – but now that B’Elanna said it ….

Kathryn shrugged and said, “I guess so.”  She reached for Chakotay’s hand and asked him, “You OK with that?”

“Guess I’ll have to be,” he said with a slight smile.  “I guess we really are going to be able to say we followed the rules of 20th century courtship – no sex until the wedding night.”

Then both Kathryn and Chakotay sighed.

B’Elanna said, “Well I am going to go get Sekaya.  The sooner we get everyone home, the sooner we all can go to sleep, then the sooner tomorrow is over and the wedding is here and we can get the two of you laid.”

“Just what every girl dreams of,” Kathryn said drily.  Chakotay chuckled and kissed her hand.

B’Elanna stopped and turned to the couple.

“You know, in a way, it actually is kind of sweet.  Your first time will be after you have pledged yourselves to one another.  No questions, no doubts.  It’s actually really romantic.”

Then B’Elanna went upstairs to get Sekaya.

Chakotay embraced Kathryn.  Their song was still playing, and they began to once again sway to the music.

Kathryn pressed her cheek into Chakotay’s shoulder, she asked, “You know what else is romantic?”

With his chin resting against Kathryn’s head, Chakotay replied, “Getting naked?”

“Yep,” Kathryn confirmed, with a sigh.

Chapter Text

Tom and Harry had been able to put together a pretty impressive engagement party for Kathryn and Chakotay with only a couple of days’ notice.  They had contacted everyone from Voyager, plus the other friends who had been invited to the wedding.

Tom had decided to use inspiration from the couple – and Dr. Love – for the party theme.  Since Kathryn and Chakotay’s song was from the movie 20th century movie “Blue Hawaii,” then some sort of beach theme seemed in order. 

But Harry insisted that they not repeat any of the luaus they’d had on Voyager, so he consulted the guidebook that had led to this happy event, 20th Century American Mating Rituals – The Art and Practice of Romance, for inspiration.

That’s when Tom and Harry learned about the “surf culture” of the 1960’s.  And The Beach Boys.

So as Chakotay, Kathryn, Sekaya, Gretchen, Phoebe, and Matt walked onto the desk behind the San Diego beach house Tom had secured for the engagement party, all anyone could hear was a driving drumbeat and the sounds of electric guitars.  Then the lively harmony of men’s voices.

Well she got her daddy’s car and she cruised through the hamburger stand now …

Chakotay looked at Kathryn and said, “I don’t think this music was on the mix tape you made me.”

“I like it,” declared Sekaya.  “It seems to go with our outfits.”

And it did.  The ladies were in colorful sun dresses, or cropped pants with matching tops.  The guys were in blindingly bright Hawaiian shirts, or striped board shorts and t-shirts.  Everyone wore sandals.

It was only about ten minutes earlier when Chakotay and Sekaya had met Kathryn and her family at the transport station.  When they materialized on the padd and Chakotay got a good look at Kathryn, he was suddenly unable to speak.

At the luau they’d had on Voyager all those years before, Kathryn had worn an alluring tropical dress.  It had taken every ounce of will power Chakotay’d had in those days to keep from pulling her into a kiss right there on the holodeck.

The dress she’d chosen today for the engagement party … well, it made the dress from Voyager about as sexy as the Starfleet dress uniform in comparison.

Kathryn had just smiled at his reaction.  She’d remembered how he stared at her that night on the ship.  She'd remembered that dress.  

Now, the tropically-attired group went down the stairs to the base of the multi-level deck, where the food and music all were.  Tom and B’Elanna stood with Harry and Libby greeting guests.

“Admiral, Captain, assorted family members, welcome to your engagement beach party,” Harry said proudly.  “Tropical beverages are to your right, thematically-appropriate vegetarian and non-vegetarian foods are to your left.”

Kathryn suddenly gasped and asked, “Is that an actual pig you are burning in that hole next to the deck?”  Everyone else turned to look where she was pointing and then  expressed their own horror.

“No, no,” Tom hurriedly assured them, glancing at the particular disgust on Chakotay’s face.  “It’s a holographic simulation.  This is what they used to do at beach parties in the 1960s, I set up a portable holoprojector for effect.  They would cook a wild hog over a pit of burning coals, just like that.  I even programmed an apple in its mouth.”

No one responded, they all just looked at the image of the smoking, porcine corpse with revulsion.

"It's for authenticity," Harry added.

Still, no one spoke.  They just stared.

B’Elanna spoke up and said, “But since you are, literally, the fourth group of people in a row to take one look at it and turn green, I think we might need to change the image.  Right Tom?”

Tom looked at B’Elanna and countered, “But you said I couldn’t show the hula girls.”

“Where did you say those drinks were?” Matt asked.

------------

Kathryn and Chakotay had made several rounds at the party together, greeting friends and thanking them for their good wishes.  They danced a couple of times, but the driving beats of the “surf music” Tom had put the juke box weren’t really their style.

Eventually, Will Riker challenged Chakotay to a quick game of volleyball at the sand court set up near the lowest level of the deck.  While he went to play, Kathryn walked back to check on her mother and get another one of those delicious pineapple drinks they were serving at the bar. 

Beverly walked up to the bar and pointed to the drink in Kathryn’s hand, asking, “Is that one good?”

“Very,” Kathryn replied, and she grabbed a straw from the table so her friend could taste the concoction.

“Mmmm, that *is* good,” the doctor agreed after a sip.  She asked for her own from the bartender.

“I think it’s rum,” Kathryn offered.

Beverly nodded and replied, “Staying away from the Glenlivet?  Good thinking.”

Kathryn gave her a semiserious death glare and started to respond when she heard someone behind her say, “Good evening Admiral.”

Kathryn turned in surprise at the voice.

“Seven!” she exclaimed, setting down her drink and reaching to hug her friend.  To her surprise, the hug was warmly returned.

“We had hoped you would come, we weren’t sure you would get here in time!” Kathryn said.

Seven smiled and reached for the hand of the man at her side, and said, “Axum and I are very happy to get your invitation, and did everything we could to make it in time for tonight’s party and the wedding.”

Kathryn’s eyes widened as she recognized the face next to Seven’s.  Though he had a few scars that hadn’t been present in the dream world of Unimatrix Zero, it was the same man.

“Congratulations on your happiness, Admiral, I can think of no one who deserves it more,” Axum said with a wide smile.

Kathryn reached to embrace the ex-Borg, glancing at Seven as she did.  The look on Seven’s face – the look in her eyes.  It was happiness, contentment.  These were things Kathryn had never seen in Seven before.

She stepped back from Axum, still holding his hands, and looked between him and Seven.

“You’re happy together, aren’t you?” she asked with a smile.

Seven just grinned (grinned!) at Axum and replied, “So far, yes.  As long as he doesn’t cook.”

Axum shrugged and said, “Unlike Annika, my liberation from the Borg didn’t take place on a ship with a functioning galley.”

“You are a former Borg?” Beverly asked (Kathryn had forgotten she was still there).

The smiles on Seven and Axum’s faces tightened just a bit.  They both still often ran into people who could not accept them as individuals, but instead hated them for their Borg pasts.

“Yes, we both are,” Seven replied, a little stiffly.

Kathryn jumped in, “It’s OK, Beverly has worked with liberated Borg before.  She was instrumental in breaking Jean-Luc Picard free of the Borg, and she was involved with the first known former-Borg colony in the Alpha Quadrant through her work with Hugh.”

At this, Axum brightened and asked, “You are Beverly Crusher of the Enterprise?  I read about your work with Hugh.  You know, Annika and I are planning to continue the liberation efforts.  Could I ask you a couple of questions?”

Beverly agreed and led Axum to the table where Jean-Luc had taken a seat.

Kathryn turned back to Seven, who was smiling at Axum as he walked away.  Seven then looked at the Admiral and asked, “Do you have a minute to catch up?”

“Sure,” Kathryn said, leading her friend to a quiet spot on the boardwalk that extended from the deck.

They leaned against the railing, and Kathryn waited for Seven to speak.

Seven took a deep breath and said, “Admiral, I wanted to let you know that I understand about you and Chakotay now.  I didn’t before, but I do now.”

“How do you mean, Seven?”

Seven shook her head and looked back towards the table where Axum was talking intently to Beverly and Jean-Luc.

“Chakotay told me at the park a few weeks ago that love is not something you can calculate.  I confess, I did not believe him.  I agreed that he and I did not experience love, but I assumed it was because some variable missing.  I truly *was* looking at it as an equation, something to be deconstructed, analyzed, and mastered.”

After a moment, Kathryn asked, “But now?”

“But now I understand that love *is*.  It cannot necessarily be understood.  It is potent and real.  It operates on its own timeline.  I cannot control it.  It is frightening, and it is wonderful.”

She looked at Kathryn with bright eyes.

“I always sensed a connection between you and Chakotay.  I knew it was there, but because neither of you were acknowledging it, I decided to disregard it.  I pursued him.  I was treating him like he was a variable in an experiment – an independent variable, but a variable nonetheless.”

She continued, “It took seeing Axum again for me to understand how wrong I was in my approach to a relationship with Chakotay – how much disregard I had for him and for you.  And how little regard I had for myself.”

Kathryn placed her hand on Seven’s and replied, “Seven, all people, former Borg or not, ‘experiment’ with love at some point in their lives.  You can’t think too poorly of yourself for it.”

“I know,” Seven replied with a nod.  “It’s just that what I feel with Axum is so much, I can’t stop feeling badly at how very, very little I felt for Chakotay.  I now understand why everyone reacted the way they did when he and I began our relationship.”

Kathryn chuckled and said, “Well, welcome, once again, to being human.  If you haven’t had a relationship that makes you cringe when you think about it, then you haven’t really lived.”

Seven smiled gratefully at Kathryn.

“Chakotay told me that everything is better with you – even the stars shine brighter.  That is how you feel about him, correct?”

“Correct,” Kathryn affirmed.

“That is how I feel about Axum.  I laugh with him, Admiral.  You know, I never truly understood the reason for laughing, despite how hard you tried to help me develop a true sense of humor.  On Voyager, things would happen that, objectively, I recognized as humorous, but I never felt like laughing.  With Axum, I laugh, a lot.  I like laughing.  I desire to make him laugh, and I am often successful at it.  I … I enjoy it.  And I believe it enhances our relationship.  I do not believe I could have this experience with anyone but Axum.”

“Chakotay and I laugh a lot, too,” Kathryn replied.  And at that moment, both women saw Chakotay standing with Axum at Beverly and Jean-Luc’s table.  The men looked toward Kathryn and Seven and waved.  The women waved back.

“I know need to get back to the party, Admiral, but I wanted to tell you one other thing.  I … I also understand what you were telling me that day at your mother’s home in Indiana.  About how … about …,” but Seven seemed to be lost for the right words.

“Seven,” Kathryn said gently.  “Are you telling me you have learned the difference between having sex and making love?”

Seven nodded, a tear falling down one cheek.

“Sex is a physical act,” she said, wiping her face.  “Making love is more than the act, more than the movement or the joining.  It is … something beautiful … I cannot explain it.”

“Then it *is* love you have found, Seven,” Kathryn replied.  “And I am so happy for you.  So very happy.”

“As I am so very happy for you and Chakotay,” Seven said with a smile.

The women walked arm-in-arm back to crowded deck where Axum and Chakotay waited for them.  Seven hugged Chakotay and whispered something to him, making him smile and look happily at Axum.

A slower song started to play, and Seven led Axum to the dance floor.

“Everything OK?” Chakotay asked Kathryn.

“It’s wonderful, Handsome Man,” she replied.  “Dance with me?”

Chakotay’s response was to take her hand, kiss it, and walk with her to the dance floor.  There were a number of couples embracing and swaying to the music:  Tom and B’Elanna, Owen and Julia, Harry and Libby, Beverly and Jean-Luc, Phoebe and Matt, Mike Ayala and Ensign Slutty (“Rosen, Ensign Rosen,” Kathryn reminded herself), Seven and Axum, Will and Deanna, and so on.  Even Sekaya was dancing with Kurt Bandera, as his wife was off-planet that night, and he was keeping his friend company.  And the Doctor had convinced Gretchen to dance with him, and she actually seemed to be enjoying his company.

As the various couples swayed and talked, or just swayed, Kathryn and Chakotay listened to the words being sung by the unfamiliar singer:

God only knows what I'd be without you
If you should ever leave me
Though life would still go on believe me
The world could show nothing to me
So what good would living do me
God only knows what I'd be without you

Kathryn and Chakotay continued swaying together, both wondering what they would be without the other.  Then they embraced one another tighter, conveying without words that neither planned for the other to ever know the answer to that question.

As the song ended, they looked at one another.  Kathryn started to say something, but the amplified voice of Tom Paris interrupted her.

“I am sorry to interrupt what looked to be some very tender moments out there on the dance floor, but I wanted to say a few words about what we are here.”

He looked towards Kathryn and Chakotay and smiled.

“I don’t think a single person who was on Voyager’s bridge the day Kathryn and Chakotay met is the slightest bit surprised you two ended up together.  Maybe surprised it took this long, but not surprised it happened.  And I don’t think there are any two people from Voyager, or at this party, or in either the Delta Quadrant or the Alpha Quadrant who deserve happiness more than these two.”

The crowd applauded.

“It only took eight years.  Eight years, a terrifying shuttle accident, and plenty of studying about something from the 20th century called ‘courtship’ to get you two here.  And since I am responsible for the introduction of the 20th century into your relationship, I take full credit for your happiness.”

Now the crowned groaned, no one louder than Chakotay and Kathryn.

“Less talk, more music!” Owen Paris yelled from the dance floor.

Tom just grinned and replied, “Thank you, dad, that was just where I was headed.  You see, Kathryn and Chakotay followed a particular 20th century romantic tradition and selected a piece of popular music from that era to be ‘their song.’  When you listen to the words at the beginning, you might find them a little ironic – these two are the very opposite of ‘rushing into’ a relationship.  But the chorus, written more than 300 years ago, couldn’t have been written for anyone other than them.”

With that, Tom turned to the juke box and hit a button.  And Kathryn and Chakotay’s song began to play.

Wise men say only fools rush in
But I can't help falling in love with you

Shall I stay?
Would it be a sin
If I can't help falling in love with you?

Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling so it goes
Some things are meant to be

Take my hand, take my whole life too
For I can't help falling in love with you

Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling so it goes
Some things are meant to be

Take my hand, take my whole life too
For I can't help falling in love with you
For I can't help falling in love with you

The song ended for everyone but for Kathryn and Chakotay, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared.  They only knew the presence of the other, they were consumed by the certainty they felt.  They were no longer breathing air, they were breathing one another.  It was beauty and life and light all around and inside them.

They didn’t even realize they had begun to kiss until the applause of their friends brought them out of the moment.  They broke apart and looked a little sheepishly at those around them, then back at one another.

But Kathryn saw fire in Chakotay’s eyes, not embarrassment.

“Oh, what the hell?” she said, and she grabbed his shirt with both hands to pull his face to hers so they could continue kissing.  Chakotay picked her up and spun them around the dance floor as the partygoers cheered and whistled.

Nearby, Gretchen watched the joy her older daughter had with the love of her life, and she looked heavenward.

“We got her there, Edward,” Gretchen said to the stars with a catch in her throat and tears in her eyes.  “She’s there, my darling man, she’s finally there.”

------------

The party had started breaking apart when Kathryn and Chakotay finally had a chance for some time together, alone.  Sensing the two needed a break from all the back-slaps and hugs, B’Elanna suggested they go for a stroll on the beach.

“The water is warm, and the moon is bright – take a few minutes to go enjoy it,” she said.

So they walked a few dozen meters down the shoreline, hand in hand.

“I can’t believe I am going to say this, but Tom and Harry did an excellent job,” Kathryn said.  “At least once the pig was turned off.”

“It was quite a crowd,” Chakotay replied.  “And I was so glad to meet Axum, finally.  He and Seven seem very happy together.”

“I think they are,” Kathryn said with a smile.  “By the way, what did she say to you when we walked over to see you and Axum?”

Chakotay chuckled and stopped walking.  He turned to face Kathryn and said, “She told me ‘Axum is my Kathryn.’  I knew immediately what she meant – she has found with him what I have with you.  What I had tried to explain to her, to no avail, she now understands.  I guess she had to experience it.”

Kathryn also laughed and said, “I know what you mean.  I tried explaining love to her the day she came to see me in Indiana – I got nowhere.  I guess the theoretical only goes so far with Seven, she requires application for true understanding.”

Chakotay pulled Kathryn into his arms and said, “I am all for application.”  

He turned her so they could both watch the water, the moonlight shining on the waves.  Her back was pressed against him, his arms were around her torso.

“Do you know where we will be this time tomorrow night?” Chakotay asked.

“Hmmm, Venice,” Kathryn replied.  “I can’t be any more specific than that, though, because it will depend on the distance from the suite door to the bed, how long it takes us to undress over that distance, and whether or not the floor looks comfortable.”

Chakotay leaned over to give Kathryn a quick kiss on the shoulder.  Then he gave her another, lingering kiss closer to her neck.

“Maybe it’s the salt air, Kathryn, but you taste amazing,” he whispered as he moved the strap from her dress down her arm so he could reach the tiny bit of skin it covered.

Kathryn sighed and leaned back against him.

As he continued showering her skin with open-mouthed kisses, Chakotay’s hands began to move on Kathryn’s torso.  One hand moved up to press just below her left breast, his right thumb journeying upward.  The other hand moved down to press her lower stomach, then her right hip, then across the front of her body to her left hip.

“I want you so much, Kathryn,” he whispered.

“Chakotay,” she breathed in response.

“Hey, lovebirds!” 

This time it was Will Riker who interrupted.

“All right, kids, it’s almost midnight!  You two can’t see each other until the wedding, or one of you will turn into a pumpkin or a mouse or something.”

Chakotay released Kathryn and took a step back.

“I hate our friends,” he said flatly.

“That one is on you,” Kathryn replied.  “I chased him off at the academy, you are the one who brought him back.”

Then they heard Beverly Crusher yell, “Unhand one another this instant, save a little something for the honeymoon!”

Chakotay raised an eyebrow at Kathryn.

She threw her hands up in defeat and said, “OK, that one is on me.”

Chapter Text

Kathryn and Chakotay each arrived at their “homes” – for Kathryn, her mother’s place in Indiana, and for Chakotay, his San Francisco apartment – shortly after midnight.  They each got into their respective beds and pulled out the journal’s they had re-exchanged before leaving the beach house.

Kathryn snuggled into her childhood bed and read the following:

My Dearest Kathryn,

As I write this, we are hours away from being wed.  Part of me still cannot believe it.

You love me.  Kathryn loves me.  

I write it, to see if it makes seem any less incredible, and it doesn’t.  You love me.  I love you, and you love me in return.

The man you will marry soon is so different from the man you met eight years ago.  It’s not simply that the Angry Warrior has gone – I am not sure he will ever totally disappear.  It’s that you, my Kathryn, helped the Angry Warrior find his place.  

You reminded the grieving son that he also has a place.  You made it safe for him to reemerge.  You welcomed the spiritual man, asked me his story with open ears and an open heart.

The Starfleet officer has a place.  You helped me see that I could serve with honor, that service was not the opposite of righteousness.  

The academic, the lover of learning has a place.  You fed that particular part of me with books and conversation, and, yes, with debate.

I have spent years, decades, trying to make sense of the parts of who I am.  It seemed I would get a couple of the parts to fit together, but never could make a whole man.

How did you do it, Kathryn, without even intending to?  I know you didn’t meet me and think, “That man needs to be put back together.”  But that’s what you did.  Your confidence in me as a man and an officer, your comforting touches, they all spoke to my broken spirit.  

You saw me as whole, giving me permission to become whole.

That’s horribly, horribly unromantic, I know.  But I cannot let our wedding happen without you knowing how very thankful I am for you, for that.

I look forward to loving you every day.  Loving you more every day.  Wherever life takes us, it will be better because we are together.  

Thank you for loving me and for allowing me to love you.

I love you, Chakotay 

In San Francisco, Chakotay sat propped against the pillows in his bed and read the following:

Dear Chakotay,

My handsome man, wonderful man.

Sometimes I look at you and wonder where you came from.  How is it possible that I have been given the miracle you are?

I have gone through life searching for the magic of the universe as though it was always “away,” never near me or part of me.  I went looking for it in the stars, I studied it, and mastered it.  The unfortunate thing was that once I analyzed and understood something, it ceased to be magic.  It became just another thing to catalog.

In space, there is always another thing.  Searching for the next miracle to make less miraculous wasn’t going to sustain me, I knew that.  But I had begun to believe that was all I was good for.  Duty.  Service.  Not bad things, but also not really … magical.

Then there was the day I met you.

You know, I felt the spark when I touched you the first time, on the bridge.  It jolted me.  I didn’t know what it was.  

It was the beginning of my miracle.

I hadn’t realized how much of myself I had surrendered to obligation until you appeared.  The real person of Kathryn had been buried for so long.  It wasn’t just the fact I was a captain, it was all the things that had happened – my capture by the Cardassians, my relationship with Justin, losing Daddy and Justin – each event was reason to lay another layer of protection over my heart.  Getting lost in the Delta Quadrant should have been the thing that buried me completely and turned living into just existing.

But there you were.  Your clear, dark eyes looked at me, and the woman buried under all those layers began to stir.  You never took your eyes off of her, did you?  By seeing her – seeing me – you saved me.

These last few months have been extraordinary.  I am so grateful for them.  Does it make me crazy to say I am glad we ended up together now, because of your courtship, instead of years ago on Voyager?  I don’t know that I could have removed all my protective layers when we were still out there.  I think it had to be here, I think it had to be after we had known each other for so long.

I think you courted me perfectly.  I love you.

And in three days, we will be married.  

Tonight, Beverly and Deanna were helping me plan my hair and makeup for the ceremony.  I had a silly grin on my face the entire time, they made fun of me all night.  I was happy beyond reason.  I am a middle-aged Admiral, and you make me giddy!

I am so honored that you want a life with me.  That’s my miracle.  After everything that has happened, after eight years, you want a life with me.

The greatest magic of the universe truly was out there, it was on the bridge of Voyager when we met.  And we brought it back with us.  

My handsome man, I adore you.

Your Kathryn

------------

An event with so many people present, by all rights, had no business being described as intimate.  But so many who attended the wedding of Admiral Kathryn Janeway and Captain Chakotay described it as such.  Intimate.

Benches were spread all around the back yard of the Janeway family home.  They were turned towards a small platform set up under an old oak tree next to the barn.  Guests whispered to one another that the tree was where Kathryn had spent hours of her youth dreaming of her future in space.
 
It was late afternoon.  The air was pleasant, and there was a breeze.  Shade sails had been suspended high over the area to keep the sun out of guests’ eyes.  Birds were singing, and the blossoms of wildflowers and various fruit trees all over the farm gave more color than any cathedral’s stained-glass windows could boast.

“It’s like nature is happy this is finally happening,” Harry Kim whispered to his wife, unable to hold back hos own joy.  Like every other Voyager in attendance, he felt he was finally going to witness the best celebration of their journey, the culmination they’d all waited for.

When the last guests were seated, Admiral Owen Paris and Captain Tuvok of Vulcan (he received a promotion upon his retirement) moved to the platform, under the shade of the tree.  A guitar started playing a quiet song – it was played by Phoebe’s husband Matt, an amateur classical guitarist - something also from the 20th century, “Cavatina.”

Chakotay had been standing with Sekaya near the creek.  They walked together, arm-in-arm, to the platform.  Sekaya carried a small bouquet of roses of pink and white.  She wore a yellow linen dress, her dark hair cascading down her back.  Chakotay wore a white linen tunic and dark pants.

The bud a of single peace rose was pinned over his heart.

As the brother and sister approached the platform, Kathryn emerged from the barn, her mother and sister by her side.

Kathryn’s dress was perfect in its simplicity.  It was the same pinkish-orange of the rose Chakotay wore, and of the roses she held in her hand.  It had one shoulder, and was made of a light fabric that caught every breeze, even the slightest movement of air.  Even her slow walk to the platform caused the skirt to swirl around her ankles.

As Chakotay watched her approach, he though he had never seen anything lovelier.  In fact, she was glowing.  He suddenly remembered the line from the movie they had seen with Tom and B’Elanna, where the taller man told the woman who was to be married that she was “lit from within.”

Chakotay had said that to Kathryn before he left to go to the Titan.  And he’d meant it.  But seeing her now, the late day sun bathing her hair and skin, and the smile on her face and in her eyes showing him the fire that burned in her soul … he felt himself tremble and he gripped Sekaya’s arm tighter to steady himself.

This was what people lived their lives to find.  And now it was his.  It was theirs.

Kathryn watched the wonder in Chakotay’s eyes as she and her mother and sister approached the tree.  He looked so earnest, so vulnerable.  In her mind’s eye, she saw Chakotay as a little boy, before the pains of life started teaching him so many lessons.  The purity of that boy’s heart was still there – except it was in this man before her.

This man, she thought to herself with a smile.  He had done the bravest thing she’d ever known any man to do – he’d loved her for who she was, not who he wanted her to be.  He loved the real Kathryn, the woman, not the persona.  He loved her in the hell of the Delta Quadrant, and in the quiet of Indiana.  

He had been worth the wait.  The love they shared now had been worth the wait.

“You sure picked a nice one, Katie,” her mother whispered as they neared the platform.  Gretchen and Phoebe also wore linen dresses, Gretchen’s in a soft lavender and Phoebe’s in a pale blue.  They both carried bouquets like Sekaya held.

Kathryn’s bouquet matched the bud worn by Chakotay.  She carried nine peace roses, a number specified by Chakotay.  The flowers had been delivered to her that morning with a note from him that said, “One rose for every year I have loved you, and one for the rest of our lives together.”

When everyone reached the platform and the guitar stopped playing, Owen Paris stepped forward and asked, “Who presents this man and this woman to be married today?”

Chakotay and Sekaya stepped forward.  

“I, Sekaya, joined by the spirits of our parents, Kolopak and Tananka, present Chakotay to be joined to Kathryn.”

Then Kathryn, her mother, and her sister stepped forward.

Gretchen said, “I, Gretchen, joined by her sister Phoebe and in the memory of her father Edward, present Kathryn to be joined to Chakotay.”

Owen smiled and said, “It is the tradition of the Rubber Tree People that the joining of two people in marriage is also the joining of two families.  I invite the families to give their blessings.”

The two groups turned to face one another.

Phoebe said, “Chakotay, you brought my sister home.  More than that, you brought her back to life.  I welcome you as my brother.”  And she stepped over to embrace him and kiss his cheek.

Sekaya then said, “Kathryn, when I thought I had no family left, you brought my brother back to me.  With you, he found the peace he had sought for so long.  I welcome you as my sister.”  And she stepped over to embrace Kathryn and kiss her cheek.

Gretchen was still at Kathryn’s side, but also next to Chakotay.  She stepped away from her daughter to be equidistant to them both.

She took a deep breath and began speaking.

“Chakotay, I cannot replace Kolopak or Tananka.  I would never think to try.  But you asked me to do the parental blessing for both you and Kathryn, so I will try to be an adequate substitute.”

“Young man, you gave me my daughter back.  There are no words I can find that could do that gift justice.  There are no words I can find that can do *you* justice.  You are not simply the man my daughter loves, you are precious to me because of who you are.  And who you are is remarkable.  Please do not ever doubt that.  You are not a son of my body, you are a son of my heart.  I not only welcome you to my family, I thank you for blessing us with your presence.”

Then Gretchen turned to Kathryn.

“Kathryn, my little Katie, our little Goldenbird.  I feel like life took you away from us so many times, in so many ways.  But every time you came back, a little of you remained lost.  In the last few months, I have seen the light return to your eyes.  I have seen your spirit restored.  It is all a mother wants for her child – not power or riches or fame, but joy.  My darling Katie, do not let go of your joy.”

Gretchen then took both Kathryn and Chakotay’s right hands and put them together, gripping them with her own.

“It is not just that you make each other happy, you make each other better.  We are all made better by your union.  Remember the peace of this moment for all your remaining days.  Remember the joy of this day when you argue.  Remember the love of this day when you are apart.”

She brought their joined hands to her lips and kissed them.

“May the good wishes of everyone gathered here today follow you all your days.  May the love of everyone here who loves you – and believe me, they all do – sustain you for life.”

With that, Gretchen stepped back from the couple.  She, Phoebe, and Sekaya took their seats on the bench closest to the platform.

Chakotay and Kathryn, their hands still joined and their eyes full of tears, stepped up into the platform.  Owen stepped aside and Tuvok, in Vulcan robes, took his place in front of the couple.

“It is not often that a Vulcan is asked to offer meditations on human love.   I have often wondered why this is.  There seems to be an assumption that because we are not demonstrative, that we do not love.  But we do.  We love deeply."

"We also recognize deep the deep love that others feel for each other.  I have been privileged to see the growth of the love between these two people, my friend Kathryn and my friend Chakotay.  I can attest that their love, like that of many Vulcans, has for many years been deep, sustaining, and unexpressed."

"Today, they experience the human joy of formalizing their love through marriage.  I do not believe my own words would be adequate to describe their feelings.  For this reason, I sought the words of human philosophers on the subject of love."

"The human Aristotle said, thousands of years ago, 'Love is formed by one soul inhabited by two bodies.'  I believe that neither Kathryn nor Chakotay knew completeness until they met one another.  In fact, I am not certain either knew they were searching for each other until they met in the Delta Quadrant.  The soul they share knew peace only with their union."

"Another human once said, 'You will know that you are falling in love because, in the end, that reality is sweeter than a dream.'  This was stated by the noted Earth writer and thinker, Dr. Seuss."  

"I believe everyone here today can attest that the reality the two of you now live is far sweeter than any dream you had – even the dreams you had of each other.  You each have spent many days in want, or in bitter struggle.  Those times were real.  And if what you have now, together, were not real and substantive, then the sweetness of it would be a vapor, temporary, without form, and lost."

Tuvok placed his hand on Chakotay and Kathryn’s joined hands.

“It has been my privilege to know you both.  It is my honor to be part of the joining of your lives.”

Tuvok stepped back again, and Owen returned to the front of the platform.  He said to the couple, “Please face each other and join hands.”

“Chakotay, son of Kolopak, do you take Kathryn Janeway as your wife?  Do you pledge to honor, cherish, love, and protect her all the days of your life?”

Chakotay smiled his widest smile and said, “I absolutely do.”

Then Owen said, “Kathryn Janeway, do you take Chakotay, Son of Kolopak, as your husband?  Do you pledge to honor, cherish, love, and protect him all the days of your life?”

“Oh, yes,” Kathryn breathed, “I do.”

“Then by the power vested in me by the United Federation of Planets, I declare you to be married.  May you walk every day, from this day forward, together in love and in peace.”

And so they were married.

Chapter Text

The reception had been going on for nearly three hours.  

Caterers had set up in the barn, and there was food of every description available in abundance.  In a nod to their time on Voyager, and as a joke for their crew, Kathryn and Chakotay had even asked Chell to prepare a few leola root recipes.

Interestingly, one attendee decided that Leola Root was the best thing he had ever tasted.  And no amount of pontification by Seven about the culinary shortcomings of the ingredient changed Axum’s assessment of it.  In fact, he decided that he wanted his first real cooking lesson to include Neelix’s recipe for leola root-stuffed ravioli.  

“I have decided to blame the two of you for this,” Seven said jokingly to Kathryn and Chakotay as they watched Axum talking with Chell.  

The happy couple just laughed.

Seven raised an eyebrow and said, “Perhaps it will not be quite as funny the next time Axum and I return to Earth – we will invite you over for dinner, and I will let him plan the menu.”

The area under the main shade sail had been cleared for dancing.  And shining from those large cloths suspended above the ground were the Constellations of New Earth.  Chakotay’s shadow casts were being projected, and every now and then, either he or Kathryn would be called to another group of attendees to share and explain the constellation names.

Tuvok and T’Pol had spent several minutes quietly studying the cast of the constellation “Vulcan’s Ear” before deciding that, yes, they saw the resemblance.  They approved of the name, and told Chakotay and Kathryn so.

The platform upon which the ceremony had taken place had been moved right underneath the largest sail, and the benches in that area had been moved to make an area for dancing.  The music for the reception was being provided by The Kimtones, featuring The Willtones, and also featuring Matt.  They played a few contemporary songs, a few jazz classics, and many of the 20th century songs Chakotay and Kathryn had enjoyed during their courtship.

At one point, Will Riker announced that it was time to play Kathryn and Chakotay’s song.  The couple moved to dance right in front of the platform.  They expected an instrumental version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love with You,” but were stunned to see the Doctor approach the microphone.  They were even more surprised when he sang a lovely, subdued version of the song – not a single note of opera.

Tom and B’Elanna were also dancing nearby, watching their friends with great affection.

“You know,” B’Elanna said, “this might not ever have happened if you hadn’t given Chakotay that book.”

Tom raised his eyebrows and smiled.  He replied, “And I never would have had it to give to him if you hadn’t gotten it for me in the first place.”

B’Elanna smiled in return and pulled closer to Tom.

“I guess we deserve a lot of credit for their happiness,” she said.

“Oh, absolutely,” Tom agreed.  “Although, I guess Dr. Love deserves some credit, too.”

“Very generous of you,” B’Elanna replied.

“Unfortunately, Dr. Love has been dead for many, many years,” Tom added, “so the only people Kathryn and Chakotay can thank …”

“… are you and me,” B’Elanna finished.

Tom looked at his wife knowingly and said, “And we know how we want to be thanked, don’t we?”

And they said to each other, in unison, “Babysitting.”

At the same time, Kathryn and Chakotay were enjoying the Doctor’s performance of “their song.”

“This has been a wonderful party,” Chakotay said in Kathryn’s ear.

Kathryn nodded, and replied, “Uh-huh – ready to ditch?”

Chakotay’s head fell forward towards Kathryn’s shoulder and he groaned, “You have no idea.”

“I have some idea,” Kathryn replied as she moved her torso closer to his.  “Why don’t we start making our goodbyes when this song is over?”

Chakotay’s response was to kiss her lightly on the nose.

As the song ended, everyone clapped for the Doctor and the musicians.  The Doctor jumped down from the platform and said, “Admiral, you promised me a dance tonight, I insist on claiming it now.”

“Now?” Kathryn said in surprise.

“Now,” the Doctor affirmed.  “Lt. Kim was planning to ask you, but I called dibs.  He called the dance after that, then Captain Riker said *he* wants a dance.  I would like my spin on the floor with you to be before one of those oafs steps all over your feet.  Excuse me while I go request an appropriate song,” and he walked back over to speak with the musicians.

“Wow,” Kathryn said with an unenthusiastic look at Chakotay, “I guess my dance card just got a little busy.”

At that moment, Beverly and Jean-Luc came up.  Beverly embraced Kathryn heartily.

“We just stopped by to say goodnight, we are headed back to my … uh, San Francisco,” Beverly said.

Kathryn raised an eyebrow at her and said, “Does Jean-Luc still need some prodding?”

“Yes I do, Admiral,” Jean-Luc replied with a side-glance at his companion.  Then he looked at Kathryn and added, “Don’t worry, though, the tables are all sturdy enough.  We’ve checked.”

Kathryn’s jaw fell open as Chakotay roared in laughter and shook Jean-Luc’s hand.

As the two couples parted, Beverly stepped back to say to Kathryn, “This really was a lovely evening, so very romantic.”

Chakotay turned to Kathryn and saw the Doctor fast approaching.  He leaned over and whispered in Kathryn’s ear, “You know what else is romantic?”

Kathryn shook her head and replied, “I am not sure I remember anymore.”

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Kathryn danced with the Doctor, Harry, and Will, plus Owen and Tom.  She occasionally saw Chakotay dancing with a guest, but saw that he ultimately ended up with a small group of “the guys” from Voyager.

But Kathryn was getting antsy.  She was ready to leave, and she was amazed Chakotay wasn’t doing more to make that happen.  She did a quick tactical analysis of the situation, then asked Phoebe for a suggestion.  

Phoebe’s recommended plan of attack was brilliant.

After a quick detour to the barn, Kathryn took Matt’s arm and headed for the dance floor.  On her way, Kathryn stopped at Chakotay’s side and placed a tender kiss on his cheek.  She also stuck something in his pocket.

Chakotay continued talking with the small group of men until Mike Ayala pointed at his friend’s pocket.

“Did she put something in your pocket?”

Chakotay absently reached in, and, feeling the fabric, said, “I think it’s a handkerchief” and pulled the item out.

It wasn’t a handkerchief.

He took one look at the crumpled pink fabric in his hand and stuffed it back into his pocket immediately. Then he turned to find Kathryn on the dance floor, marching straight to her.

“May I cut in, Matt?” Chakotay asked his new brother-in-law.

Matt kissed Kathryn’s cheek then stepped back, saying, “She’s all yours.”

Chakotay smiled at Matt then turned to Kathryn.  He pulled her roughly to him, then nipped her earlobe.

“You left something in my pocket, Kathryn,” he said in a low voice.

“I might have,” Kathryn replied.

Chakotay spun her around, then pulled her even closer to him.  

“I noticed they were pink.  Are they the ones I saw the other night?”

Kathryn tilted her head back a little to look him in the eye.  With a smirk, she asked “You mean the little pair of panties I told you I was planning to wear with my wedding dress?”

Chakotay’s eyes were getting darker, and he was breathing a little heavier.

“Yes,” he whispered.

They were still dancing, and both Chakotay’s hands were on her lower back.  She reached behind herself to pull Chakotay’s hand down, from her waist to her behind.

“Why don’t you check for yourself?”

Chakotay ran his hand over her cheeks – smooth as silk.  No panty lines.

It took two tries for his voice to work, then he said, “Just you and this dress?”

Kathryn leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “And if we can just get out of here, I can lose the dress.”

Then she pulled his earlobe into her mouth and lightly sucked it for a couple of seconds.  Chakotay stood completely still, but his heart was ready to come out of his chest.

Kathryn straightened and stepped away from him.  She smiled brightly and asked, “Shall we make our goodbyes?”

Chakotay could only nod.

They returned to the main part of the reception, ready to tell everyone goodbye.  No explanations were needed, though.  Mike, Tom, and the other men Chakotay had been talking to had seen the panties – they knew the couple were about to leave.  Naomi Wildman had just given all the remaining guests small bags of rose petals, the same pinkish orange of the flowers from the ceremony.  As Kathryn and Chakotay approached, everyone showered them with petals, shouting goodbyes and good wishes.

Kathryn ran to her mother to hug her goodbye.

“We are headed to Venice mom, I’ll comm you tomorrow” she said.

Gretchen rolled her eyes and said, “Comm your mother while you are on your honeymoon?  Don’t be that person, Kathryn.  You two have eight years of sexual tension to work through, don’t think about me, that’s just disturbing.”

Chakotay laughed and leaned forward to kiss Gretchen’s cheek.

“We’ll see you in about ten days,” he said.

They materialized in Venice about three minutes later.

Chapter Text

It took longer to get to their suite than they expected.  It had been well after midnight when they left Indiana, meaning it was close to seven in the morning in Venice.  They never thought they would need to deal with crowds.

Actually, if they had thought about it, they shouldn’t have expected anything else.  More than a year after Voyager’s return, both Kathryn and Chakotay were often recognized by regular Federation citizens who had been caught up in the stories of their Delta Quadrant “adventures.”

While this was usually just an annoyance, today it was damned aggravating.  First, the hotel manager wanted to personally greet them and have a picture taken with them.  He took great care to introduce them to all of his staff as “Starfleet heroes,” which caught the ear of many hotel guests who were beginning to drift downstairs for breakfast.  Soon, the not-quite-as-happy-as-they-were-an-hour-ago-couple were surrounded by people asking questions about Voyager, and the Borg, and the Maquis, and their families, and their romance, and Admiral Nechayev, and their wedding, and when will they have children, etc.  And, of course, cameras and holovid devices were coming out of people’s pockets.

Neither of them wanted to be rude.  Mindful of her mother’s notorious appearance on FedNews only a few days ago, Kathryn was trying as hard as she could to be patient and pleasant.  Trying so very hard.

Chakotay, in the meantime, was desperately trying to think of how he could he could get them both out of the lobby and to the suite without having to use a phaser.  He looked at Kathryn and saw the unmistakable flush of anger creeping up her neck.

Cue inspiration.

“Oh, Kathryn, love, you are beginning to look flushed, are you having an attack?” Chakotay asked loudly as he pulled her to him.  He leaned over and whispered, “Just go with it.”

Kathryn looked at him with wide eyes, then understanding his intent, said, “Oh, dear, I am starting to feel a little feverish.”

Chakotay turned and looked at the assembled crowd and said, “She occasionally still has attacks of the … leola.  Something we picked up in the Delta Quadrant.”

Murmurs of sympathy rose from the crowd.

Kathryn leaned against Chakotay and said, “Yes, and if this is a leola incident, I really should isolate myself for a day or two.  Once the fever is broken, I will be fine.  Thankfully, Chakotay is immune to the virus, since he was in the Delta Quadrant with me.”

Then she looked with great concern at the people surrounding them and said, “But … oh … I shouldn’t be around anyone else.”

Needless to say, the crowd disbursed.

Chakotay “helped” Kathryn to the lift to their suite.  As soon as the doors closed, they both nearly fell over with laughter.

“Attack of the leola?” Kathryn managed to get out.

“Apparently a highly contagious strain of it, too,” Chakotay replied, wiping tears from his eyes.

The doors to the lift opened and, still laughing, they approached the door to their suite.  Chakotay entered the code and said, “I think we are now guaranteed time *completely* to ourselves for at least a day.”

Then turning back to Kathryn, he reached down to pick her up and carry her into their suite.

“Whatever will we do with ourselves?” he asked in a low voice, kicking the door closed behind him.

Once in the room, though, they were both overwhelmed by the grandeur of their suite.  The walls in the sitting room were hung with gold brocade, glowing in the morning sun.  The trayed-ceiling, at least fourteen feet above them, was covered in painted, carved wood.  The furniture were antique reproductions of chairs and couches from centuries before.  Crystal lights and cut-glass serving sets caught the colors of the room and reflected them.  The sight was dazzling.

“Oh, my,” Kathryn breathed as Chakotay set her down, his own eyes wide as he took in the room.

“Owen Paris said this was a romantic place,” he said wonderingly.

Kathryn grinned and said, “Let’s see what the bedroom looks like” and she ran to a pair of elaborately carved doors at the far end of the room.

The bedroom was as opulent, but subdued.  The walls were covered in the same brocade, but it was a soft charcoal color.  The wood of the ceiling wasn’t painted, it was stained a rich mahogany shade.  Heavy silk drapes over the windows mimicked the gray and brown of the room, but brought in the gold and white of the other room.

Chakotay and Kathryn walked hand-in-hand to the silk-covered French doors at the far side of the room.  Kathryn opened the doors and light poured into the room.

They stepped out onto an enclosed loggia, furnished with iron chaises covered in overstuffed cushions.  The view they had was stunning – they felt they could see all of Venice, both the old and new sections.  The songs of nearby gondoliers in the midst of their morning duties floated up from the canals near and far.

Kathryn and Chakotay looked at one another, both smiling widely.

“This is a dream,” Kathryn said with a joyous shrug.

“Oh, this is real, my wife,” Chakotay responded as he leaned forward to kiss her.

The kisses were gentle, sweet, romantic.  They were both still so overwhelmed by what they were seeing, they took the time to appreciate it.

Before either one had a chance to escalate the moment, though, they heard a knock at their door.

“Seriously?” Kathryn asked in some disbelief.

Chakotay shook his head and gave her one more squeeze before saying, “I think that’s probably room service.  I asked the manager to send a couple of things up for us, including champagne.”

As he turned back into the suite, Kathryn said, “You go take care of that, I am going to freshen up.”

There was the slightest hint of suggestiveness in her voice, enough to give Chakotay pause.  He turned to look at her, but she was already headed to the en suite. 

“Whatever she has planned will pair well with champagne,” he thought to himself.  And he closed the double doors to the bedroom before answering the door.

The manager had delivered the food himself – he wanted to apologize for the mad scene the couple had endured when they arrived and to make sure that Kathryn didn’t need a doctor to help her with her “leola attack.”  Chakotay assured him that they were fine, that she was fine, that everything was fine, thank you for the food, we are fine.  The manager did have time to point out that both the sitting room and the bedroom were equipped with smaller chillers should they wish to save any of their food for later.  But the door closed soon after and Chakotay wheeled a laden cart into the bedroom.

“Everything all right?” Kathryn called from the bathroom.  “It sounded like he was delivering a speech, not food.”

Chakotay chuckled as he began to open the champagne. 

“He wanted to apologize,” he said.  “He’s talkative, he reminded me a little of Neelix.”

Chakotay continued, “I ordered champagne and fresh fruit.  He also brought a carafe of chilled orange juice, in case we want mimosas.  Oh, and I took the liberty of ordering some tiramisu, which we can put in the chiller for later.”

“Tiramisu, huh?” Kathryn responded, humor in her voice.

“Yep,” he replied as he poured two generous glasses of champagne.  “I guess I still have a craving.”

He turned towards the bathroom to make some sort of suggestive comment about sweet cream and coffee, but the thought flew away.

Kathryn was standing in the door to the en suite, leaning against the door frame.  She was wearing the blue silk nightgown Chakotay had seen in her shopping bags a few nights before.  Her hair was down, and she had a sly smile on her face.

“Uhhh,” Chakotay said.

“So articulate,” she replied teasingly.  Then she walked slowly to him and took a glass of champagne from his hand and began to sip.

Chakotay took in the sight of her.  The first thing he noticed was how the nightgown brought out the blue of her eyes, those eyes he loved.  It also made the red tints of her hair seem to glow ever warmer.  The fabric clung to her, and he could not help but reach out to touch it.

As he rested a hand on her waist, Kathryn smiled and asked, “You approve?”

“Oh, yes,” he breathed.

“Well, I don’t,” Kathryn replied softly.  At Chakotay’s questioning look, she nodded at him and added, “I no longer approve of that shirt.”  When he reached up to unbutton it, she said, “Uh-uh, you enjoy your champagne, I’ll take care of it.”

So he sipped on his glass while Kathryn slowly unbuttoned his shirt.  When she was done, she took his glass and he slipped the shirt off.

Setting down both their glasses, she approached him.  She placed one hand on his chest and, with the other began toying with his ear.

“Is it weird that I still feel a little nervous?” Kathryn asked with a small smile.

Chakotay grinned and said, “If it is, then I am weird, too.  We have eight years together leading to this night – or morning.  I feel nervous, too.”

He rested his hands on her waist and added, “But we get to be nervous together.”

“Imperfect together,” Kathryn replied.

Chakotay pulled her hand from his ear and kissed it, then placed it at his waist.  It was a spot where there was just a little more flesh, a little more “flab,” than he would have liked.

“Imperfect together,” he said.  Then leaning forward he whispered to her, “My Kathryn, I adore every part of you, even the parts you don’t adore.  I want to worship every inch of you, especially the imperfections, because they are part of who you are.  You are real, you are my love, you are perfect for me just as you are.”

He moved his hands back to her waist, one moving to stroke her hip, and the other moving up to move the strap of her nightgown from her shoulder, just as he had imagined doing with this very nightgown the other night.

Kathryn’s eyes were dark with desire and shining with love as she replied, “And you, Handsome Man, are the love of my life.  The most beautiful reality I have ever known.”

Their lips met.  And the hours that followed were more than the realization of eight years of longing, desire, and unspoken love.

They were more than perfect.

They were real.

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It was just past eight in the evening when Kathryn began to stir.  She was buried under rumpled sheets and a coverlet.  She was tired and sore – and supremely happy.

She rolled over, expecting to see Chakotay asleep next to her.  But he was awake, his head propped up on one hand.  He was looking at Kathryn with wonder and deep, deep love.

“Good evening,” he said with a smile.

“It is *such* a good evening,” Kathryn replied.  She settled herself so she was fully facing Chakotay and snuggled closer to him.  

He continued looking at her, then shook his head.

“What?” Kathryn asked with a grin.

Chakotay used his free hand to trace a line down the side of Kathryn’s face, all the way to her chin.  With his middle finger, he drew little circles and swirls on the skin below her bottom lip.

“You have the most amazing chin, Kathryn,” he said wonderingly.

“I have an amazing chin?” Kathryn asked with wide eyes.

“Mmm-hmmm,” Chakotay affirmed.  “It’s tiny, delicate, but also defined and determined.  It’s the perfect representation of you.  I haven’t had a chance to really study it from this angle before, but I woke up about half an hour ago, and looked at you, and there was your chin.  Your beautiful chin.”

For some reason, this strange observation of Chakotay’s only added to Kathryn’s happiness.

“You’ve been watching my chin for half an hour?” she asked with a large grin.

Chakotay nodded, a twinkle in his eye.

“It’s a great chin,” he said, smiling.  Then he leaned over to kiss it.

Pulling his head way, he added, “You know, now that I have gotten to be this close to you, I have noticed many things I never saw before.

“Such as?” Kathryn asked.

“Well, your smile gets a little more crooked when you sleep,” he replied.  And he used his index finger to move the edge of her mouth up a little in exaggerate crookedness.

Kathryn moved her head to capture the finger in her mouth.

“And I don’t think I will ever get over that birthmark you have on your hip,” he said as he stared at her sucking his finger, her eyes half closed.

Letting go of his finger, Kathryn smiled and said, “An imperfection.”

Chakotay pulled down the sheet to get a look at the tiny, diamond-shaped spot on her hip.

“It’s damned sexy,” he said, and he moved to place a kiss on it.  The sigh from Kathryn led him to continue kissing it, and all the skin around it.

Kathryn got a serious look on her face and, finding somewhere the strength to resist him for just a couple of minutes more, cleared her throat.

“Speaking of imperfections,” she said.

Chakotay looked up from her hip and saw her grave look.

“What it is,” he asked.

Kathryn looked past him, as though trying to decide something.  Then she bit her lip.

“I’m sorry, Chakotay, it’s just that ….”

“Kathryn, what?”

“It’s just,” she said, her eyes cast downward.  Then she looked up at him with an earnest expression.

“I really think the difference in your butt cheeks is a lot closer to five-eighths of an inch, not half an inch.  I mean, I feel I’ve gotten to know them pretty well the last few hours, and I think your ass is about an eighth of an inch less perfect than you realized.”

Chakotay stared at her for a second, pretty sure this was a joke … but not entirely sure.

Then Kathryn stuck her tongue out at him and grinned.

Chakotay’s eyes darkened and he sprang from the middle of the bed to land on top of her, pressing her body into the soft mattress as she fell apart with laughter.

“Gonna have to get you back for that one, Admiral,” he said before taking pressing his lips and tongue to hers in a deep, deep kiss.

Kathryn started to answer, “Please do,” but her mouth was otherwise occupied.

Chapter Text

About twenty-seven years later

“… so B’Elanna and Tom never found that lovely lavender brassiere, despite searching the ground car three different times.  And that, Harold Owen Paris, is the story of your conception!” Chakotay announced to the crowded room as he held up a glass.

Hap Paris had turned beet red, but he was overcome with laughter.  His father and mother were seated nearby, shaking their heads, but smiling.

The rest of the wedding guests were also still cackling with laughter.

Hap stood up and said to Chakotay, “I have always felt a special kinship with cars!”

The men hugged and Chakotay said to Hap, “You know, if I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t enjoy telling that story so much.”

Hap laughed and said, “Oh, I’ve known that about you a long, long time.”

Kathryn called to the men from her seat just a few feet away, “Okay, groom, you have forgiven Chakotay, what about the bride?”

Everyone looked at the young woman seated next to Hap’s chair.

Greta Janeway shook her head and answered, “I was just thinking, now I know why Hap has always liked me in lavender.”

And the room fell apart again.

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Greta was actually Gretchen Sekaya Janeway.  But when she had started talking, she flatly refused to call herself “Gretchen.”  If anyone called her that, she would point to her grandmother, or her grandmother’s picture, and emphatically say, “Dat Gwetchen.”

For several months, she would only answer to “Little One,” which was her father’s pet name for her.  The one day, when Kathryn was trying to help her get dressed, the girl shoved her mother’s hand away and said, “No, Gweta do it.”

Kathryn and Chakotay soon discovered that the “Gweta do it” phase of their daughter’s toddlerhood was no passing fancy, it was a personal mission statement.

As “Gweta” became “Greta,” she developed her mother’s analytical passion for science – but she balanced it with the deep spirituality of her father.  She could be a bit of an introvert, quiet at times to the point that her parents worried.  They needn’t have – those were the times she was thinking.

When she announced at age 15 that she wanted to go to Starfleet Academy, no one was surprised.  When she said she wanted to pursue a career in engineering, that also was not a shocker.

When she came home after her first semester and announced she wanted to marry Hap Paris, three years her senior and about to graduate from the Academy, *then* eyebrows were raised.

Chakotay’s over-protective-father hat materialized and he began peppering his daughter with questions.  Why Hap Paris?  Had he been pursuing her?  Didn’t her mother and he tell her they didn’t want her to date during her freshman year at the academy?  And, once again, *why* Hap Paris?

Not that Kathryn and Chakotay didn’t love B’Elanna and Tom’s little boy.  But he was going to be in med school, soon, and, to be honest, he had a little too much Tom in him for any father’s liking.

 Greta calmly explained to her father and mother that, no, she hadn’t been on a date with Hap.  No, the two of them had not discussed the possibility of dating.  In fact, Hap was still seeing the same young woman he had been with for a year.  Greta had only seen him a couple of times on campus, most recently when he had been serving as a teaching assistant for a professor who did a one-day seminar on emergency medicine that all first-year cadets had been required to attend.

“Then why are you telling us you are going to marry him?” a bewildered Kathryn asked.

“Because I am,” Greta replied calmly.

Greta do it.

It was the end of Greta’s third year at the academy when she finally went on a date with him.

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Greta had danced with her husband, her father, her father-in-law, and was back with her husband when a groomsman cut in.

“Hap, could I have a dance with my big sister?” Kol Janeway asked with a smile.

Hap hugged his new brother-in-law and said, “Absolutely.  No wrestling, though, you aren’t eight anymore, and she’s dressed too nice.”

“Even in this dress, I could take him,” Greta retorted.  Then she smiled at her brother and hugged him close.

“I can take you,” she repeated.

“I know,” he said with a smile in return.

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Kolopak had been their surprise baby.

Greta was nearly four when Kathryn began feeling odd.  Not badly, just odd.  She and Greta had joined Chakotay on a year-long mission on a refit Voyager to the Beta quadrant, and, at first, Kathryn thought she was just reacting to being in space again.

When she finally went to see the Doctor and he examined her, the look and the lecture he gave her was classic.

“It is amazing to me that humans are so out-of-touch with their own bodies that they do not know when they have a guest,” he said acerbically. 

Kathryn had gasped and asked, “Have I picked up a parasite?”

“Yes,” the Doctor replied, “but you might want to wait until he comes out before you call him that.  He might look more like a ‘Kevin’ or something else.”

Kolopak was born during a ship-wide power-loss caused Voyager’s run-in with a quantum filament.  The Doctor had been stuck in a turbo lift trying to get to the Captain and Admiral’s quarters, and arrived just in time to hold the baby while Chakotay cut the cord. 

Greta had been in the room when her brother was born and had remained surprisingly calm despite her mother’s pain and her father’s anxiety.  And she had been the one to decide that her brother would go by the name “Kol,” not “Kolopak” or “Edward.”

Where Greta had been quiet, Kol had been boisterous.  He was the life of any party, full of quips – if anything he reminded his parents of his Aunt Phoebe.  His love of boxing and coffee, though, proved he was his parents’ son.

When Kol decided to attend the academy, Kathryn and Chakotay were surprised, but pleased.  They thought he would go to a traditional university and continue his boxing.  When he sat down with them to explain his decision, they were surprised to learn how much he had learned about tactical analysis on his own.  While Chakotay and Kathryn thought he was living the life of a carefree teenager, which he had been, he actually had read a great deal about tactics.  He had even read both of his father’s textbooks, and a highly technical treatise written by Tuvok.

“One of the reasons I like boxing is I get to apply some of the psychology of tactics in the ring,” he’d said.

Kathryn had looked at her husband.  She could see the deep swell of pride he felt knowing his son seemed to be following in his footsteps.  And Kathryn felt the same way

------------

Kathryn sighed watching all the “kids” enjoying the party, and she placed her head on Chakotay’s shoulder.

Commander Naomi Wildman, first officer of the USS Milton, had been a bridesmaid, as has Miral Paris and Phoebe’s daughter Shannon.  Standing up for Hap had been Kol, Thomas Kim and Rene Picard.

Other children of the Voyagers and friends of the Voyagers were there – the Riker twins, Mike Ayala’s boys (now men), even Seven and Axum’s girl Annie, who Greta had once babysat and had served as a flower girl.

“How can they have grown up so fast?” she asked wistfully.

Chakotay took her hand and kissed it.

“It didn’t always feel fast, but today it does, doesn’t it?” he said to his wife.

Soon, the reception was over and the happy couple were on their way to their brief honeymoon on Pacifica.  Then they would join Naomi on the Milton, where Hap was serving as a doctor and Greta was an ops officer.

Before the musicians broke down, though, Chakotay paid the band leader a quick visit.  Then he led Kathryn to the dance floor.

The music began to play, and the couple embraced and swayed.

Wise men say, only fools rush in ….

Kathryn began chuckling.

She leaned back to look at Chakotay and said, “I was just remembering when you told Hap that he wasn’t allowed to date Greta, he could only court her.  And that he had to follow the practices of 20th century courtship.”

Chakotay grinned and replied, “That was a fun day.”

“Except,” Kathryn continued, “B’Elanna found that old copy of Dr. Love’s book and helped him plot out his courtship.”

Chakotay’s eyes narrowed and said, “I kind of think that was cheating.”

“Wasn’t cheating when you used it,” Kathryn countered.

“That was a special circumstance.  You required special handling.”

“And our daughter didn’t?”

Chakotay rolled his eyes and said, “Point taken.”

Their song wound down and Kathryn placed her hand on Chakotay’s chest.

“Admit it, Handsome Man, there is no man you would have liked better for our little girl.”

Chakotay chuckled and said, “He’s a good enough man that he will treat her well – and a smart enough man to know better than to treat her poorly.”

“And we love him like he was one of ours,” Kathryn added.

“In a way, he is,” Chakotay conceded.  “In a way, I guess they all are.”

The song was over, but they remained in each other’s arms, still swaying a bit.

“You know, Admiral Chakotay,” Kathryn whispered, “I *might* have put something in your pocket when you weren’t looking.”

A little confused, Chakotay put his hand in his jacket pocket.  The minute he felt the small wadded-up mass of fabric, though, his eyebrows shot up.

“Admiral Janeway, I am shocked,” he whispered.  “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“All day, every day, at all times, anywhere and everywhere,” she replied with a chuckle.  Then, reaching to trace his tattoo, she added, “You know, there was a reason I insisted you get us a room at this hotel, and it wasn’t just to go to sleep.”

Pulling her closer to him, Chakotay whispered, “Do tell.”

At that moment, though, one of the musicians walked up to the couple.

“Admiral Janeway, Admiral Chakotay, it was a pleasure and an honor to play at your daughter’s wedding reception.  Truly.  And it was a beautiful event, very romantic.”

At that Chakotay leaned over to Kathryn and said in a low voice, “You know what else is romantic?”

She grinned and replied, “How about we take the rest of night to remind each other.”