Chapter Text
Kathryn’s eyes flicked open as the scent of coffee permeated her bedroom. She sat up, staring at the door nervously.
Who the hell was in her house? Who the hell was making coffee in her house?
Trying to make as little noise as possible she threw her robe on and snatched her comm badge from the bedside table. Her gut told her she was fine, but seven years on Voyager reminded her that it was better to be safe, than sorry.
As she exited her room she spotted him. He stood in the kitchen, using the stove for what was likely the first time since its installation.
She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she approached, fronting with a blasé air before taking the seat behind the counter. For a moment she simply watched him, curious as to his intention. She’d always expected that he’d call for a social visit. But the man was full of surprises – evidently.
“I love the smell of coffee in the morning,” she commented, hoping to catch him off guard.
He glanced around, appearing completely unfazed by her arrival. The barest hint of a smile touched his lips before he returned his attention to his cooking.
Having her attempt to startle him fail, she decided to try a different approach. “This is a bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”
It wasn’t, it really wasn’t.
Chakotay turned, this time giving her a broad, dimpled grin, before handing her a mug of steaming, black coffee. She stared at it for a moment, tempted to tease and refuse. Muscle memory and general exhaustion won out, however, and she took the mug, gratefully.
“Nope,” he responded plainly.
She was curious. Of course she was. The debriefings had left them little time to socialise since Voyager’s return. His presence in her home was a surprise, a welcome surprise, but for the life of her she had not an inkling of the implications.
She knew what she hoped. After all, she spent the better part of a decade ignoring her feelings for him. Now they were free of their command obligations. Yes, she still outranked him, but they were hardly going to be serving on the same ship now.
“How did you even get in here?” she asked. Her stomach growled as the smell of his cooking wafted past. Honestly she hadn’t had a fresh cooked meal in weeks. Since the last time she’d had time to visit her mother, she guessed.
“Your door codes are the same here as they were on Voyager,” he stated flatly.
“And you thought that was an open invitation?” She teased. In all honesty she’d kept them the same in the hope that something like this might happen.
He gesticulated, spatula in hand. “If it wasn’t, you’d have changed your code.” He flashed that damned dimpled smile again making her insides melt.
Despite their flirtation and despite the fact that she wanted nothing more than for it to continue, she also wanted to remain in control of the conversation. Her competitive and commanding nature always got the best of her; “alright, to what do I owe this impromptu breakfast?”
“It has been little over three months since Voyager’s return, debriefings are all but over and none of us have been thrown in jail,” he explained.
“Yet,” she corrected.
“I’m optimistic.” He responded casually.
“Aren’t you just?”
He smiled at her comment, before turning and dishing a pair of pancakes onto a plate in front of her. “Lemon and sugar or syrup?” he asked.
She gave a crooked grin, “syrup,” she responded, making certain that her tone suggested anything else would be out of the question. He took the bottle and poured a generous swirl over the top of the pancakes.
Watching intently as he continued preparing breakfast she began to eat the meal he’d dished for her. “You know I have a meeting in about half an hour, don’t you?” she told him.
“No you don’t,” he told her without turning around.
“Oh?” she asked, taking a bite of her meal. She was eager to see where this was all going so she sat patiently, waiting for him to tell her about whatever it was he’d planned.
“I cancelled it,” he answered placing another pancake on her plate. Thankfully he stopped cooking and began to clean, she wasn’t too sure she’d make it through three of the things.
“You cancelled it?” she questioned. Her mock, alarmed tone fell a little flat when she took another bite of her breakfast.
“Well, more accurately Admiral Paris cancelled it, and the rest of your day,” he told her.
“Oh, well. Whatever am I supposed to do with myself now? ” she asked.
He turned toward her and met her eyes. Her heart fluttered reminding her just how close they’d become over the years. Taking a step toward the bench, he grinned and leaned forward, over the counter. She wasn’t certain what she was expecting. He had certainly come close enough that he could kiss her. She licked her lips, almost eager, challenging.
But Chakotay merely shrugged. “That’s a good question.” He pushed away from the bench and turned, continuing with his clean-up. The remanence of the batter went into the replicator to be recycled. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he said with a small smile. He pulled the apron he’d been wearing off and began to walk toward the door.
“Wait a minute,” she stopped him. “Where are you going?”
“Oh, I have a date tonight, I have to get ready,” he answered only turning toward her slightly.
“A date?” she blurted. What the hell was he playing at?
“Oh yes,” she could see the smirk on his lips, despite the angle of his face. “She’s intelligent, strong, beautiful,” he paused and turned toward her. “I think she might be the one,” he said earnestly.
Kathryn stared, not entirely too sure what to make of this conversation. “The one?” she asked.
He crossed his fingers in an over exaggerated gesture, reminiscent of one he’d used on New Earth. “I hope so,” he responded with a grin. With that he turned back to her front door and exited.
She stared, dumfounded. How could he just leave? If not for the fact that she still wore her pyjamas she’d have chased after him and demanded an answer.
Her shoulders slumped and she stabbed at her breakfast. He had a date. This was just his way of telling her, obviously. She wanted to stay positive, perhaps it was nothing.
The one, she reminded herself.
The door chimed again almost shocking her off the stool.
With a grin she bounded to her feet, toward the door, ready to chew her former first officer out for his cruelty. She wasn’t certain what she was going to say, but she’d make him regret his decision to leave so suddenly.
She pulled the door open and almost jumped in surprise. Tuvok and T’Pel stood patiently on the porch, both appraising her appearance.
She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Tuvok! T’Pel!” She managed. “What a pleasant surprise!” She added quickly. It genuinely was. She hadn’t seen Tuvok since he’d been rushed back to his home.
The pair inclined their heads in a single motion before her former chief of security glanced past her.
“I’m sorry, where are my manners? Please, come in,” she motioned for them to entire while pulling her robe tight around herself.
“Thank you, Captain,” Tuvok stated as they passed.
“I thought you were still on Vulcan?” she commented conversationally.
“We are here only temporarily, to conclude my debriefings,” Tuvok explained.
Right, vaguely she recalled hearing something of the like.
“Please, make yourselves comfortable, I’m just going to –”she paused considering how to phrase what she wanted to say. “Freshen up,” she settled on.
The pair nodded and took a seat on the sofa, in the lounge room and Kathryn headed up the stairs to her room.
“Your home is lovely, Captain,” T’Pel called after her.
She gave a small smile, though she knew she’d left her half-eaten breakfast on the counter and Chakotay had left the apron on the bench. She wasn’t the tidiest person in general; she knew there were at least two empty coffee cups in the living room. “Thank you,” she responded.
Really, though, the Starfleet Captain’s apartment was a little too – Starfleet for her tastes; blinding white walls, plain brown furniture giving a rather Spartan feel. She didn’t mind the room, for now, but she had to get a place of her own, just as soon as she had the time to shop around.
As swiftly as she could, she jumped into the sonic shower and then threw on some clothes, something presentable that she could change out of once the pair had left.
When she arrived back downstairs the Vulcans glanced up at her almost expectantly. “If I’d known you were coming I’d have prepared a little better,” she said apologetically.
“The fault was ours, Captain,” Tuvok stated. “I expected to see you at Starfleet headquarters however Admiral Paris informed us that you would not be in today.”
“Well it’s wonderful to see you, prepared or not,” she said, taking a seat on the opposite couch.
“How are you settling in, Captain?” T’Pel asked politely.
Kathryn smiled. “Very well, thank you,” she replied. “I thought the transition would be difficulty but Starfleet have been wonderfully accommodating.”
T’Pel nodded. “As we have observed,” she gave Tuvok something approaching a fond look, for a Vulcan.
“Now,” Kathryn said. “How are you? How’s the family?”
“They are well,” Tuvok responded. She didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked to his wife.
“I’m certain they were all pleased to see you return,” she pressed, hoping for a little more information.
“I believe they were,” he responded.
“They were,” T’Pel affirmed.
Kathryn couldn’t help but grin at her tone. Supressed emotions or not seven years without one another had certainly taken a toll.
She decided to change the subject. “Can I get either of you a drink?” she offered.
“No, thank you, Captain. I am afraid we will not be here long,” Tuvok informed her.
She couldn’t help but frown. She had missed him dearly and it was so good to see T’Pel again.
“My debriefings recommence in thirty minutes,” he continued.
“Is this your last day?” she probed. Due to his condition he’d needed to push back his interviews and so would be the last of the senior staff to finish.
“No,” he answered. “I still have three days left.”
Three days until the Voyager crew were officially finished with debriefings. There was still a lot of do after that. The Starfleet council would decide whether any charges were to be presented against any of the former Maquis, the former Equinox crew, Tom Paris – or Kathryn for that matter. But from talks with Admiral’s Hayes, Patterson and Paris it appeared that the Voyager crew were going to make it through relatively unscathed.
“I feel like we should celebrate,” she said. She’d been following on from her train of thought, “The entire crew, I mean,” she clarified.
“A celebration would be most welcome among the crew, I believe,” Tuvok responded.
He was right. They’d hardly had a chance to catch up in a group since their return. Would there be a problem with hosting a minor reunion after three months? She wanted to set a precedent, she wanted to ensure that they crew knew they could still fall back on one another, on her.
“Then it’s settled, how long will you be on Earth? I’ll try to arrange something before you leave.” Yes, this was a fantastic idea. She’d be able to check up on everyone and see how they were settling in. If anyone was having problems adjusting or figuring out what to do, she could point them in the right direction.
“We depart in eight days,” T’Pel responded.
Kathryn nodded. “I can work with that.”
Almost the entire crew were still Earthbound thanks to the debriefings so she should be able to throw something together fairly easily.
T’Pel touched her husband’s arm and he nodded to her. “We should depart,” Tuvok spoke.
“Perhaps we can arrange a dinner together, while we’re on Earth?” T’Pel suggested.
Kathryn nodded. “Yes, I’d like that,” she agreed. “Perhaps tonight?” she suggested.
They exchanged a glance. “I’m afraid we are otherwise engaged tonight,” Tuvok stated. “Perhaps in a couple of days, I shall contact you with times that we are available.”
Kathryn bobbed her head in agreement. “That sounds good.”
She stood when they did and walked them to the door. “Thank you for visiting,” she expressed fondly.
“It was our pleasure,” T’Pel replied with far more warmth than Kathryn expected from a Vulcan.
Kathryn hugged them both and showed them out, giving her former chief of security and his wife an affectionate smile. They proceeded down the driveway and Kathryn was about to close the door when she heard them speaking to someone; someone with an incredibly familiar voice.
“Doctor, it is good to see you again,” Tuvok spoke distantly.
“And you, Commander. This must be your wife? T’Pel?” The Doctor responded.
If this was a coincidence Kathryn would eat her shoes. She turned quickly, snatching up one of the errant coffee mugs on her way toward the open kitchen. Her leftover breakfast was collected along with the apron, which ended up shoved in a cupboard under the bench. The mug and leftovers were tossed into the replicator and recycled.
Barely a moment passed before the door chimed.