WHAT LIES BEFORE US

a story for J/C

vanhunks

SUMMARY: Set after "Counterpoint". Voyager is on its way to Earth, six years after it was stranded in the Delta Quadrant. Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay, friends and colleagues, want to put their recent traumas behind them, and so they contemplate parting ways.

DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns Voyager, Janeway and Chakotay.

WARNING: Deep angst. This story contains references to sexual abuse. There are no graphic descriptions, but images nonetheless disturbing. I have attempted here not to sensationalise rape, but focused on the victim's ability to survive. For most it is a difficult and long road, and each day that a victim can go forward, is an important victory.

This story is dedicated to the rape survivors.

Rating: PARTS 1 - 6: PG-13, PART 7 : NC-17

Musical inspiration while writing this story: Paganini: Violin Concerto No. 1 D Major.

WHAT LIES BEFORE US

PART ONE

"Kathryn, we have come through too much to let everything we have been to each other - " Chakotay tried to swallow the lump that formed in his throat. He was unable to continue as he looked at Kathryn, his face bleak, deep shadows in his eyes.

"Please..." he tried again, with a note of pleading in his voice.

They were in her quarters, and Chakotay noticed absently how empty it looked, how devoid of any warmth. There were no signs - not anymore - that he had once shared these quarters with her.

"Chakotay..." came her voice on a soft, resigned sigh. She was sitting on her couch, her hands trembling as she folded one item after the other and placed it in the bag that was next to her. She looked up at last, averting her gaze quickly again as she noticed how desolate he looked. "It's because too much has happened - "

"I was there all the way with you, Kathryn," he interrupted softly, taking a step closer, then stopping as he saw her body stiffen. "All the way..." he repeated.

"I can't let you do this, Chakotay. I - I have leaned too much on you these past six years. Perhaps more than I should have, or - or deserved. More so in - in the last y-year," she stammered, the last words uttered so softly he strained to hear her. Nevertheless, he sensed it.

Chakotay sighed. Why should she feel any guilt for leaning on him? He was there because he wanted to be there. He was there because, God help him, he could not imagine a life without her; imagine a day or a draw of breath in which he didn't want to be always there for her.

"I've never wanted to do anything more for you than in this year," he whispered, and knew that every word he uttered, every piece of clothing she packed so neatly in that bag, brought back memories. They were memories that she just could not erase - memories that finally became the wall that stood between them now. A wall that needn't be there.

"Thank you, Chakotay, for what you were willing to do for me. For what you had done," she said with a calmness in her voice that he knew belied the terrible turmoil raging in her heart. It was that calmness he had come to know over the years that was a screen which she needed to run the ship, show her strength, and vainly, to fool him.

"Kathryn..."

"No more, please, Chakotay. We're almost home now, and from this point...from this point I need to be on my own. They are demons I must fight and eventually lay to rest."

Chakotay rushed forward and knelt before her, and her hands became suddenly limp as he slowly removed the tiny pink garment from them.

"Don't..." she said, her voice sounding forlorn.

"Kathryn, she was mine, too."

"No..."

"Mine too, Kathryn," he repeated desperately.

"No, Chakotay, she - she wasn't."

"What happened was out of your control, Kathryn. You were rob of your control," he whispered hoarsely as he pressed the little pink sleeper against his face. He gave a tight sob, and cursed himself for this weakness when he knew Kathryn didn't need to see that now. He kept his head bent, not looking at Kathryn, but he felt her hand caressing his hair.

"I hate him, Chakotay," she said. "I hate him," she repeated with a note of desperation in her voice.

Chakotay looked up then, felt how his heart contracted painfully when he saw in her eyes that brief flash of her old anger. It was over quickly, replaced by an emptiness.

"I am sorry, Kathryn," must have been words he had uttered a hundred times in the last year. Words that could not, however much he tried to, assuage the terrible guilt he felt, or for that matter, offer comfort.

"I know, Chakotay, but you shouldn't be. How could you have protected me then?" she said. "You were powerless. We all were..."

Yes, he thought as a stab of pain lanced his heart. We were all powerless. I only had to hear your screams, Kathryn, I only had to hear your screams...

Chakotay thought how he had been surrounded by Devore soldiers on the bridge that day; he was unable to move as he heard Kathryn's screams in her ready room. And all the time the music played. The trumpet strains from Mahler's first symphony filled the ready room, filled the bridge, filled every corner of the ship while Kashyk... Chakotay had been demented as he stood, helplessly looking at the ready room door; he had been filled with an impotent rage that boiled and boiled, until his fist crashed into the face of the first Devore soldier. By the time he reached for the second soldier, he was hit against the head - a glancing blow that rendered him unconscious. They must have bundled him in his quarters, because he was lying on the floor just inside his door when he finally regained consciousness the following morning. He had a blinding headache and stumbled to Kathryn's quarters. She had been sitting on her couch and had shown no reaction to his unannounced entrance. Kathryn was quiet, dignified and too still. The look in her eyes...he had never seen them so hollow. Chakotay had experienced that boiling fury again and had felt like murdering every Devore he could lay his hands on. 

He didn't have to ask Kathryn what happened. 

He only watched how she internalised her pain and her anger and became Captain Kathryn Janeway who used her cunning to woo that damned unsuspecting Kashyk into trusting her. In the two days that followed, she manipulated that infidel, outsmarted him and gained a victory over him, enabling her to save the telepaths and save her own ship. For two days she had to suppress her deep trauma, entertaining, being friendly with the very man who raped her as if nothing happened and it didn't matter. 

How could he not have seen the signs in those two critical days? 

When Voyager left, God help him, he thought it was behind them. How wrong he was. How mistaken, how shallow in thinking and assuming that the absence of a physical threat meant Kathryn would be fine, that Kathryn had dealt with her extreme trauma and gotten on with her life. How like a man he was. His own perception was skewered, abysmally short-sighted. He didn't know. He hadn't known, God help him.

Kathryn's trials had only just started.

He found her three weeks later in her quarters after she failed to respond to his hail. The sounds he heard, led him unerringly to her bathroom. She was sick, retching her guts out. He had carried her to her room and tended to her, noting absently how she tried to avoid looking him directly in the eyes. He had sworn volubly then, not caring that he was coarse in his cry of rage. Then he calmed again, forcibly suppressing his personal outrage to reassure her. Kathryn had not shed a tear. Her eyes were dry, hollow, and he wanted to swear again. When he finished tending to her, he had both of them beamed to sickbay.

He had not known that a ship could cry...

Chakotay was unaware of the dampness on his face until he felt her hands wiping his cheeks.

"It's over now, Chakotay," she said sadly.

No, it's not, Kathryn, and you know that…

"Kathryn, you forget that we - "

"She died, Chakotay, even before I had time to - to..."

"Oh God, Kathryn!"

"I loved her," Kathryn said as tears scalded her cheeks, rolling down unchecked.

Chakotay pulled her up with him, and enfolded her in his comforting embrace, holding her very, very close. He felt the shudders of her slender frame rock her, and he calmly soothed her with soft words, words that flowed into her heart, balm to her battered spirit. How many times in the last year had he sat like this with Kathryn?

"Let me stay with you, Kathryn," he said at length when she had calmed, and he held her away from him. "For what it's worth, you are still my wife, you know..."

"Chakotay, the reason is no longer there, is it? It hasn't been there for - for months... We don't have to continue this - "

Chakotay gaped, and when he spoke, it was so full of emotion she was ready to burst into tears again.

"You think I didn't love her as much as you did?"

"Karina, Chakotay," Kathryn reminded him gently. "Her name was Karina. You couldn't bring yourself to say her name..."

How could he tell her that just saying her name brought the pain so deep in his heart, he was unable sometimes to breathe? The baby was Kashyk's, but she was so much Kathryn, and whatever was Kathryn was so much part of him, he...  Chakotay closed his eyes suddenly. He knew even now that Kathryn wasn't ready to hear him profess his love for her - a love so deep that it had become his very life. So much a part of him, he knew that everything that filled up and completed the life that was Chakotay, loving Kathryn was an indispensable part of it. It lingered and flowed like a river deep inside him. He could stand still, lie down at night, or sit on the bridge, and he could hear the murmuring of that stream in his heart and soul.

Everything that was Kathryn, was his to love, and so he loved her baby, because she was Kathryn's; he loved her baby, because the first person little Karina looked at when she opened her already dying eyes, was Chakotay. He knew he would never be the same again. He loved Karina.

But he had to be strong for Kathryn, because Kathryn needed him in the days that followed Karina's birth, too weak to survive longer than a week.

"I'm sorry, Commander," the Doctor had said, his own eyes filled with compassion, "the Captain's DNA was not compatible with that alien race. Her body was slowly rejecting the foetus - "

"The baby Doctor," Chakotay reminded him quickly. "She was a living and breathing baby, dammit."

"There were always going to be complications, Commander," the EMH continued kindly, "and both you and the Captain were aware of that."

Kathryn's pregnancy was short, barely seven months in human terms, but practically term for Devore offspring.  It was a difficult time, too difficult to rake up the memories again. He had been to hell and back with Kathryn.

What could he tell the Doctor? Kathryn wanted her baby despite the circumstances, despite what Kashyk did to her. She had not wanted to terminate her pregnancy... But the days following Karina's birth, he had seen Kathryn come alive, then die again...

No, he couldn't bring himself to say Karina's name. It pained him too much. He knew it was illogical - the baby was not his. She resembled faintly the features of the Devore, of Kashyk. But Chakotay could no more reject their baby than he could reject Kathryn, or condemn an innocent infant than blame Kathryn for what had happened. How could he not think of Karina as his own? He thought of her not as the child spawned through a heinous deed, but an innocent child that was Kathryn's, with Kathryn's blue eyes. He felt again the old helpless rage of that day, felt again his own spontaneous love for Karina the minute she opened her eyes and peered at him. His heart contracted painfully.

Kathryn saw the way Chakotay's brow knitted as he tried to conceal his pain.

"I loved her, Kathryn..."

"I'm sorry, Chakotay, of course you did," Kathryn said, smiling wanly. She reached forward and cupped his cheek. "But now, I'm strong enough to deal with everything. I don't want to be a - a -"

"You have never been a burden, Kathryn, and you never will be," Chakotay assured her fiercely as he embraced her again. "I want to be there when you cry in your sleep, Kathryn. I want to be there when you have nightmares. You still get them, and I want to comfort you..."

"I know. You have done that and more, much more. Now - "

"Are you going to say you don't need me anymore?" he asked, his tone a little lighter than earlier, and he even managed a smile which immediately deepened his dimples. He dreaded her answer all the same. Whatever the parameters were that existed presently between them, he knew he wanted her for life, not just a simple arrangement to have her married, with a baby to care for. A baby - their baby - who was no longer there, and whose short life changed his forever. He wanted to be a father so badly, and the spirits help him, he wanted to be one still.

"Well, Commander, now that we're home - or almost," she said softly, her palms pressed against his hard chest, "I shan't hold you to our agreement. You know that, don't you?"

He nodded. He hadn't wanted to agree to her terms when he married her, but she had been bent on not wanting to be more of a burden to him than she had already been. They could sever their ties after Karina's birth, had been her words then. He had sensed the hysteria just beneath the surface of her apparent composure, and not wanting to force any issues of a more permanent commitment and eventual consummation of their vows, he acquiesced.

It was little comfort to him that she called his name in the middle of the night when she had her nightmares; it was little comfort to him that she always tucked the blankets around him where he had been sleeping on her couch. It was little comfort to him that she seemed to gravitate more and more to him, and that one night, when he had a terrible nightmare, she made him lie in her own bed and crawled in next to him, holding him close. It had been heaven then, to feel her softness, to feel her next to him, gently soothing him until he had fallen asleep again. In the darkness of those nights he needed her and she, God help him, she needed him then.

Yes, it was little comfort to him. He knew the time would come that Kathryn Janeway would recover to an extent, take charge of her life once more, and tell him that he had served his duty. She didn't need him anymore.

He needed her, wanted her. He knew, deep down, that she needed him still, but that was to end. He had dreaded this day. For the day to have come so soon - when they made giant strides in their transwarp drive experiments - he was unprepared for. They were home, and with it, all reason that he could keep her tied to him, no more there, except what he felt for her. Except his love. That was there all the time, the current of that stream still as deep and strong as ever.

"We are friends, Chakotay, and yes," she added softly, "as my friend, I could use the occasional subspace communication to keep sane."

"You are not insane now, are you?" he asked, glad at last that she was smiling, and looked calmer than she had been an hour before. His plea to keep the contract of their marriage... He sighed. He still had the overpowering desire to protect her.

"No," she assured him as she took his hand and pulled him to sit next to her on the couch, "I'll get through this, Chakotay." She rested her head against his chest, his arm coming spontaneously around her slender shoulder. "I must," she added, as her fingers splayed over his chest.

"I want to be there, Kathryn," he repeated his plea of earlier.

"Subspace communication, remember?"

He sighed.

"I remember. But Kathryn..."

"Hmmm...?"

"Look at me," he commanded as he held her away from him. He felt his heart race, the sound of it rushing to his ears, it seemed.

"I want to - "

"What, Chakotay?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

He mustered his courage. It was her call, when all was said and done. Her decision.

"I want to remain your husband, Kathryn - "

"Chakotay - "

"No, wait, hear me out Kathryn," he implored. "In name only, as it is at the moment. We - we have no idea what lies before us, Kathryn. But whatever happens, I want to be there, not only as your friend but as your husband."

He held his breath as he watched her. The throbbing was in his ears again.

Chakotay looked long at Kathryn. He knew she must see the waiting in his eyes, his own fear that he could never be near her again lying very close to the surface. Did she see all those things? He wanted her to lean on him, forever, if she needed to. He wanted to absorb everything she threw at him: her pain, her anger, her screams, her nightmares... No burden was too heavy for him to bear. If he could take all hers on his own shoulders, he would gladly do it if she let him. He didn't want her to cut him out of her life completely. His eyes became a little glazed at the thought that he might never be able to help her again. In a trance her felt her hand on his; his hand trembled violently. 

"I - I am not ready for - for - " she tried to speak. 

"I know, Kathryn," he said with resignation, not waiting for her to finish.

"Let me finish, Commander," she said firmly, her hand caressing his cheek. "I need some time - time to reflect, to become strong again, time away from you. But you are right," she comforted. The disappointment flared in him. He tried to hide his pain from her, but when he heard her voice, it was comforting, strong and confident.

"We don't know what lies before us, but I know that when it befalls me, or us, I'd like to talk to my husband about it..."

He expelled a deep sigh of relief as her words sank in.

He pulled her into his arms again, and pressed his lips against her hair. He felt her move in his arms, and when he looked again at her, she held a framed picture of Karina to him. He closed his eyes at the sudden burn in his chest.

"It's alright, Chakotay, it will get better, you'll see. This is for you, to keep with you wherever you will be traveling - "

His hand shook as he took it from her, his trembling fingers stroking the cool glass. It was Karina, on the fifth day, when it seemed that she rallied. She lay sleeping in her crib in sickbay; she lay on her stomach, with one tiny fist against her mouth. He ignored the tears that filled his eyes, felt the picture slipping from his fingers, and gave a sob when Kathryn drew him in her arms.

When his shuddering stopped at last, he remained like that, his head against her soft bosom.

**

Kathryn felt Chakotay's shuddering ease off a little. 

Why is it  that she never realised that Chakotay needed to grieve too? Had she been so wrapped up in her own mourning?

"Chakotay?" her voice was soft, and like a gentle breeze her breath fanned his hair.

"Yes...?"

"Look at me..." she commanded.

When he looked at her, Kathryn felt his strength, much of which she had taken for granted in the past year. She gave a deep inward sigh as she allowed herself to let him take care of her. She didn't feel so alone as she had in the last few hours since they prepared to dock at Deep Space Nine because Chakotay, dear, dear Chakotay would always be there. Whatever problems she might encounter, wherever she found herself, he'd be there to guide her. She could listen to his voice and be comforted. Suddenly, that prospect didn't sound so unpleasant anymore. 

"I know you'll be there, Chakotay, whatever lies before us..."

********

END PART ONE 

PART TWO

Someone was pinning her hands above her head. She knew it was futile to struggle as her face jerked with the force as another man struck her. Why couldn’t she see their faces? She screamed when she felt sharp nails scoring her hips as her pants was ripped from her. Then the hands were on her, digging painfully into her, hands on her breasts, squeezing so hard that she screamed again.

A voice, mellow, then strident as he laughed.

"That’s right. Scream, my pet. I like my women screaming..."

No, please... don’t... was her wordless plea as hands gripped her legs. His face was close to hers; she could hear his hard breathing. 

"You are mine, gaharay..." he said as he rubbed himself coarsely against her.

Her own breathing was short, panicked, coming in painful gasps. 

A weight bore down on her with terrible force...

A final scream...

"No!!!!"

Kathryn Janeway jackknifed into a sitting position, sweating profusely. She gasped several times, staring around her in confusion. She was disoriented, but slowly the objects around her took on familiar shapes and she realised that she was in her quarters. She closed her eyes, thinking to blot out the images that way, but they forced themselves on her, clawed at her eyelids and imprinted themselves indelibly: hands that pinned her own hands down; mouths that sucked her breasts till her nipples bled; other hands on her body; large, rough, groping hands that hurt, tearing flesh as Kashyk forced himself into her...

She gave a sob.

It was the nightmare again - grotesque images that filled her with renewed horror. She clutched her chest as she rose from her bed and stumbled to the bathroom. She felt sick, the nausea overcoming her as she bent over the toilet bowl and retched with sickening pain. Her stomach heaved several times, and she could feel every muscle in her belly and legs straining with the force, protesting at the unaccustomed and unnatural way they stretched. Kathryn thought idly that she would be stiff in the morning.

Minutes later she stood over her washbasin and splashed her face with cold water. She felt feverish, almost falling as her legs buckled. Forcing herself to some calm, Kathryn managed to straighten up again. She rinsed her mouth, then dabbed her face with a soft cloth.

When she entered her bedroom again, she stared at her bed with some kind of dread. The sheets were rumpled. She must have been thrashing around wildly. The thought that she'd have to lie down again filled her with alarm.

I’ll never sleep now.

Still, she walked to the bed, sat down on it and drew her knees up, resting her head on her arms. She was still racked by the occasional shudder, her teeth chattering from the effects of her retching spell. Finally the tears came, but she remained sitting on the bed in that position, her slender shoulders shaking.

He won’t let me go, Chakotay... He won’t let me go. The words drove into her brain, repeated like a droning madrigal, over and over. I thought it's over...it's not.

She tried to force the droning words away from her, overcome by the urge to scream in the darkness of her quarters. But the images prevailed, taunting her: hands that pinned her own hands down; hands fondled and pinched and bruised; other hands that tore at her uniform; her pleas, her screams. Then there was the music that played all the time the soldiers held her down and Kashyk... Kathryn recoiled from the memory. She had come to hate Mahler's first symphony...

Breathe in, Kathryn, she commanded herself.

Easy, take it easy, you can do it, she heard someone else's words, over and over, telling her to take short, shallow breaths, then to breathe in deeply until she could calm down again.

Chakotay...

Kathryn looked around her suddenly, as if expecting to see him there, and then panicked as her breathing became erratic again. She was wheezing, a whistle-like sound emanating from her throat.

She gasped sharply for air and she was on the point of crying out loud, when her vid-com beeped. She stared almost stupidly at it, wondering what the sound was, when the knowledge that she was being hailed, penetrated through the terror of those horrifying images.

Kathryn rose sluggishly from the bed and half stumbled across to her desk.

She sat down and switched on her computer, the face filling the screen as sudden as it was blessedly welcome.

"Chakotay...?"

****************

The Federation Starship USS Odessa made its way silently through the Krenal Sector deep in the Alpha Quadrant. It was sleek ship, larger in size than Voyager, with a crew complement of two hundred and fifty.

I was lucky to get Tom Paris to take the helm of this ship, Captain Chakotay thought as he watched Tom Paris expertly working the conn. It was a well deserved promotion for Tom, first reinstated as a Starfleet officer, then promoted to Lieutenant. He was now a fully commissioned officer, a position of which Tom was proud. Tom had wanted to take his first official posting to the Odessa, the ship Chakotay was offered a month after their return.

"That way, I don’t get to do sickbay duty," Tom commented the day he reported for duty.

"Who says you won’t be called upon again to nurse some sick crewman?" Chakotay parried laughingly. "B'Elanna has left strict instructions that I keep you in line."

Tom backtracked quickly.

"Oh, not that I didn’t enjoy doing it on Voyager," he said. Tom’s old smile and banter was back and too welcoming, Chakotay thought privately as he looked at his new Chief Helmsman.

"I - Tom, you know we've thanked you all, especially you, for what you've done for us on Voyager, but I want to - "

"Chakotay," Tom cut in kindly, "Captain Janeway deserved her family - us - around her, nothing less. I wish we could have done more..."

Tom's eyes had been serious then, and Chakotay knew that they - he and Kathryn - had in Tom and B'Elanna their fiercest allies.

That was eleven months ago, now almost a year after they returned to the Alpha Quadrant. He sat in his command chair and looked at the main viewscreen. Traveling at a sedate warp, he could see the stars, not the colourful streaks when moving at warp eight or nine, but each one. Star systems and nebulas - they’ve had more than enough of that traveling in the Delta Quadrant.

"Captain."

He jerked as the voice broke into his reverie.

It was Commander Elgar, looking with some amusement at him.

"You were deep in thought, Captain. I said you should have gone off duty ten minutes ago..."

"What? Oh..." Chakotay said, smiling at his second-in-command. "Yes, well, thanks for reminding me," he said as he rose to leave and proceeded to the turbolift.

***********

Commander Elgar stared a few seconds at the door through which the captain disappeared. He gave a small sigh. He always had to remind the Captain that he was due for a rest, or that he was off-duty. Elgar knew that the former crew of Voyager worked double shifts most of the time when they were in the Delta Quadrant. To Captain Chakotay, being on duty for sixteen hours straight, was nothing new, or unusual. He seemed so accustomed to it. But they were in the Alpha Quadrant now, with a full ship’s complement, and more than enough time for the Captain to take time out. He had seen from the start, coming out with this new vessel and its new Captain, that Chakotay was a driven man. The Captain exacted the same discipline and quality of performance, commitment and energy from the crew that he demanded from himself. Chakotay was as tough as Voyager's legendary Captain Janeway. But Captain Chakotay, for all that he was a warrior sometimes and most of the time an eagle, did not know when to rest.

Only a few of the Voyager crew had been commissioned to the Odessa. Most of the rest of Voyager’s former crew remained on Voyager. They were loyal to their Captain. He had heard through the Starfleet grapevines that Captain Janeway was due be promoted to admiral very soon. He wondered again at the unusual relationship between Captain Janeway and Captain Chakotay, her husband.

It had been one of the items of gossip that filled the first ten entries of Starfleet's gossip mill. Elgar smiled to himself. What a scenario! If he had to believe the most ardent romantics in Starfleet, it had a wonderful, romantic ring about it: The Captain of Voyager, married to her captive. A strange marriage, was the second item on that mill. Married but not even sharing the same home base?

Elgar sighed. His was only to wonder at these open and modern marriages. Now his own dear wife, Clarissa... His heart gave a sudden excited lurch as he thought of her. Very soon he’d have some leave due and he’d be together with her again. But Captain Chakotay... The one or two occasions he had been in the Captain's quarters, he had seen a photograph of Kathryn Janeway on his desk. In the ready room was also a photograph, yet Captain Chakotay rarely spoke about his wife, in the way he, Edward William Elgar, named for a great English composer, spoke about his Clarissa. Didn’t the Captain care about his wife?

**********

Chakotay entered his quarters and ordered the lights at ten percent illumination. He had no inclination to have the furnishings and ornaments and computers staring at him in stark light. They would not move away if he engulfed himself in darkness. He walked around a little listlessly, at a loss what to do. He missed the old crew and the sense of family they shared. Not that he didn’t endeavour to have the same here, particularly among his senior crew. He conceded that their unusual circumstances in the Delta Quadrant virtually forced Voyager's crew into a community - a family - all brought together through their isolation. Yet here, a different sense of family existed, one forged again by their need to face a common enemy.

He smiled grimly as he stepped into the shower. Strange how here, back home, they were confronted with issues and petty squabblings they never had to deal with when they had been stranded in the Delta Quadrant so long. Young lieutenants wanted to be commanders in the quickest possible time, and young commanders saw their ranks only as one step closer to being captain of a starship. It was a rat race, Chakotay thought, and an unhealthy one. They learned the tricks of the trade fast, and not the trade. Very often, newly promoted lieutenant-commanders or newly promoted captains were not equipped to lead. Is it any wonder that Tom rebelled so against that very order? The glamour of the title was what many sought. Even Tom's return and promotion was viewed with some glamour attached to it. One could be aristocracy, and one's sins were forgiven. If only all of them had known the Tom Paris who worked very, very hard at his job and tried to live down a reputation. His struggles for acceptance had not come without its pain for that young man.

There was, Chakotay mused, snobbery in high places. Tom certainly didn't need that kind of worship as an "ex-member of the legendary Voyager crew."

Still, Harry made it deservedly to Lieutenant...

He was still rubbing his hair dry when he looked at the framed photo at his bedside. He didn’t feel that searing contraction of his heart so fiercely as before. He sat down on the bed, threw the towel down and picked up the photograph.

Sweet little Karina... you didn’t have time to smile, to walk, to cry, except in pain. We miss all your milestones.

He smiled tenderly as he caressed the tiny face in the picture.

Six months ago Karina would have been a year old.

"I have something here for you, Kathryn," Chakotay said when he had virtually broken his back trying to get to San Francisco, where Kathryn was based, and home for a short spell.

They were at her apartment and he had managed to get a few days off to see her. He had almost missed her, as she was to take Voyager for a two month mission to the Klingon Empire only the following day. He had to see her. It wasn't something he wanted to talk about through their usual fortnightly subspace communications.

She was a little surprised.

And he? He couldn’t stop himself from wanting to take her into his arms. She had complained about his bear hug, then playfully ribbed his chest.

She had frowned. He wondered every time since he had known her, how it had been possible that he could keep such an iron control over his feelings for her. She was beautiful when she frowned, smiled, spouted angry words, was reflective, anything. He could never stop looking at her.

"It’s not my birthday, Chakotay," she said quickly, then her eyes clouded. "It’s - it’s..."

"I know, Kathryn. Karina would have been a year old today..."

"Yes," she whispered softly, her eyes sad as she looked at him. Then she asked, her voice teasing again: "So, to what do I owe this visit, Captain?"

He thrust his hand in his pocket and brought out a little box. He held it to her. She took it with trembling hands, and opened it slowly.

"Chakotay..." she breathed softly as she took out the gold chain. At the end of the chain was a pendant, more an old-fashioned locket, she surmised.

"Open it," he said, his eyes a little uncertain as he saw her wavering first before prising it open.

He had been standing there for what seemed like eternity waiting for Kathryn to respond as she looked at the contents of the locket.

One side carried a tiny picture of Karina, and the other side was empty.

"It’s beautiful," she whispered. "It's hand-made. Where - ?"

"Chell made it for me, Kathryn. He’s really good at creating artistic pieces of jewellery," Chakotay said by way of explanation.

"Thank you," she said, then her eyes went wide again. "I’m leaving tomorrow, Chakotay - "

"I know. It’s why I wanted you to have it now, so you can wear it."

"I know, where no one can see it?"

"Naturally."

"I miss her, Chakotay..."

"I’m here, Kathryn."

It had been all Kathryn needed as she hurled herself in his embrace and allowed Chakotay to console her. He held her very close, and the urge to kiss her then was so great, he felt all his restraints giving as he brought his mouth down to hers.

She stared at him, her eyes wide, her lips parted. He brushed her lips with his own, felt the warmth and softness of it, and also the way she stiffened, gasping as she pulled away. For a fleeting second he had seen it: the old fear. He swore under his breath, then pulled her to him and kissed her forehead briefly. She remained standing in his arms, though, being at least comfortable with that.

He pressed his lips into her hair, then pulled away from her.

"I have to go, Kathryn," he said hoarsely. He hadn’t wanted to, but they were friends and for now, he was willing to let it rest there.

Kathryn had thrown her arms around him again, held him for long moments before she let him go.

"I’ll be in touch with you, Chakotay," she said, then squeezed his hand tightly.

He felt a little better by the time he was back on the Odessa. She hadn’t rejected his advances outright, and, he realised, she was perhaps not ready for any physical intimacies with him - or any man for that matter. The old anger took hold of him again. What happened to her had left scars where no one could see, and where everyone thought she was fine.

That morning after she had been raped by Kashyk, Chakotay had gone to her quarters after she failed to respond to his call. She had been sitting on her couch, fully dressed and looking composed.

Chakotay snorted grimly. She had looked so composed that morning. That was what gave her away. She was too, too still. She shrank from him when he tried to touch her. But he had already seen the tell tale signs. There was a bruise on her cheek bone; there were bruises just above the collar of her turtleneck. She turned her face away from his gaze as he lifted her arm and pulled up her sleeve. His eyes went dark with rage and he swore volubly as he noticed the dark, deep bruises on her wrists.

The EMH was in her quarters seconds after he hailed the doctor from sickbay. The EMH arrived only after he convinced the Devore inspector that Kathryn Janeway and her First Officer were in need of medical treatment. 

Chakotay had waited in her lounge while the EMH tended to Kathryn, but he had, in the moments that he looked at her wrists and seen the marks, also seen the shame on her face. Only when the doctor had finished with regenerating bruises and broken skin and... Chakotay felt the intense pain he experienced then when the EMH had had to undress Kathryn and repair serious bruises to her breasts and cuts to her stomach. How had Kathryn managed not to break then? He had been assured by the doctor that Kathryn looked at least better and only then he collapsed.

In the first few months, despite the fact that they were married, she had often said she had seen the disgust in his eyes. It had taken him a long time to convince her that what it was she had seen in his eyes, had been his outrage, and his own murderous feelings towards the men who had abused her so. Some nights her hands would cramp against her stomach as she told him how she had been cut there afterwards. 

Her recovery had been slow, and in the beginning she had been unable to stand the sympathetic glances of the crew, had been at times histrionic, ashamed, then claimed she didn’t need their compassion. It was her own fault, she said then, none of it would have happened it she hadn't this, or hadn't that...

She may have been the exemplary, hard as nails Starfleet Captain, but Kathryn was also a woman - his wife, who had been hurt in the most reprehensible manner.

She had underestimated her "family", Chakotay thought. They admired her that she had opted to have her baby. He admired her for that.

But her pregnancy...

He tried to shut out the memories, shaking his head quite vigorously as he put the photo of Karina down.

"Perhaps one day, Kathryn," he mused, a smile now replacing the fierce frown he had on his face.

He got up, still in his toweling robe - a gift from Kathryn - and walked to his desk where he initiated a subspace message for his wife. He had the sudden urge to talk to her.

He missed her, and he thought even if she felt like kicking him in the rear, he was going to talk to her at a most unholy hour. It was 0300 hours for her in the sector she was traveling in.

He was unprepared for the face of Kathryn he saw on the screen a few minutes later. Her eyes were bloodshot, she was pale and it looked... He felt his heart go cold at the sight of her...

"Kathryn?"

"Chakotay..." came her voice, the hysteria very close to the surface.

"Kathryn, what’s wrong?"

********

END PART TWO

PART THREE

Chakotay watched as Kathryn wiped her cheek with the palm of her hand, a hand that trembled, he noticed.

"I - I dreamed. It was the - the nightmare again. I’m sorry," she stammered slightly.

"It was bad?"

"Y-yes..."

Damn! He wanted to be there; he felt helpless. He pursed his lips and cursed for once that he was so far away from her.

"Kathryn, listen to me, will you?" Chakotay coaxed softly, and was pleased when she nodded. "You are a survivor, and I know you will get through this night. You have great courage. Maybe you don’t believe it’s there right now, but I am telling you it has always been there."

"How can you be so sure? Chakotay, I - " he saw how she struggled, the tears very close.

It must have been particularly traumatic this time, as bad as those nights on Voyager. She fought him like a tigress then, imagining he was keeping her helpless. Those nights he had just let her go at him, scratching, clawing, beating with her fists in wordless anger against his chest. When she was spent, he would take her in his arms and soothe her until she fell asleep again.

Now? He was so far away...

"I know you well enough to know you can draw on that inner strength."

"I - " she began. He watched again how her throat seemed to move as she tried to speak. "Help me, Chakotay..."

"I’ll help you, Kathryn. I’m with you now," he said gently.

"I am not brave, you know."

"Oh yes, you are. Remember what I said to you on Voyager?"

"Every nightmare I put behind me - "

"- is a round you’ve won against him..."

"You sound so convinced," Kathryn said softly, but her voice sounded stronger.

"I’m your friend; I should know."

"And my husband?" she asked. He could have sworn he spied some eagerness in her eyes. Chakotay gave a deep sigh as he felt himself lifted the way she asked that question. It held so much promise, it drove away the despair he always felt at being promised little and offered nothing. He wanted to tell her he loved her. He loved her so much, believed in her so strongly that... He sighed again.

"As your husband I want to hold you in my arms and kiss away your fears," he ventured. "As your husband, I know you trust me enough to believe that I am telling you the truth. You will conquer this, Kathryn. You will..."

"It was...very stressful just now, Chakotay. If you hadn’t - "

"Will you believe me when I say that I sensed you needed me?"

Kathryn looked long at him. She nodded, then said: "Yes... I believe that. It was strange, you know, just when I - "

He saw the way her eyes darkened again, and said quickly:

"I’m with you, Kathryn. You can hear my voice..."

"I did hear your voice," she said softly, smiling a little, "and then I looked for you..."

"I wasn’t there..." Chakotay said, feeling the guilt again.

"It’s alright," she assured him quickly, "you said I could - could..."

"Yes, Kathryn, you can win this round," he replied. Then he asked: "When last did you have this nightmare...?"

She looked like she was calculating mentally, then she ventured:

"T-Three months ago..."

"See? It is becoming less frequent, isn’t it?"

He saw for a moment her old fire when her eyes flashed briefly. It was a response which caused him to smile with some relief.

"By your calculations I should be free of it in five years," she replied drily.

"Kathryn..."

"Yes...?"

"I wish I could be there with you. I wish I had been there to help you - "

"You don’t know how much you’ve done, Chakotay. Just talking to you is helping," she said gently, her fingers touching the screen.

"Good. Now, are you ready to join the Admiralty next month?"

"Yes... You know I’ve been wanting to be based at Starfleet," Kathryn said, smiling a little.

"You want your friend to be there?" he asked, his own smile now one of great relief. Kathryn looked much better now that her mind was off her recent nightmare.

"No." Her answer was hurried, yet firm.

"Huh? You don’t want me to come and watch?"

Kathryn sighed, then yawned.

"I want my husband to be there, Chakotay. If he isn’t..."

"Then what?" Chakotay asked, his heart soaring once again.

"I’ll demote him."

"You wouldn’t dare."

"I need you, Chakotay..."

His eyes smouldered for a second, then became tender.

"I need you too, Kathryn," he whispered, then continued, "but right now I can see your eyes drooping..."

"It’s not..."

"Oh, yes, you’re talking to me with your eyes half-closed."

"I am?’

"Go to bed, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Chakotay, for everything..." she said softly, her voice trailing at the last.

"I love you," he whispered so softly, he doubted that she heard him.

Chakotay switched off his computer, stared for a few seconds at the Federation insignia that replaced Kathryn’s face. Then he buried his face in his hands, his elbows braced on the desk top.

We’ve won another round, Kathryn. Another important round.

He remained like that for a long time, all the tension of the past hour flowing from him. It was always like that, he thought. It required complete concentration, after which the relief was a welcome balm.

The first few months were the hardest. During the day Kathryn captained Voyager. By that time the crew had been informed of her condition, and Kathryn especially, became the recipient of their undying love and loyalty. It had been easier for them to put the Devore tragedy behind them; they never mentioned Kashyk’s name, and gave all other uncomplimentary appellations to him. But they did it as little as possible, concentrating instead on their Captain and her baby. By the fifth month of her pregnancy, he had taken over as Acting Captain, and had been until a month after Karina’s birth. Kathryn had insisted taking over again.

"I need to keep busy, Chakotay," she told him at the time. "You do understand, don’t you?"

"Of course, Kathryn," he replied then. "I can see it will work."

And it did. She rallied much better than he thought. During the day she was Captain Janeway. She faced her crew bravely, and acknowledged their commiserations on the death of her baby. During the night it was a different matter altogether. Then she was terrorised in her sleep by never-ending nightmares that made the Doctor suggest - when she was still pregnant with Karina - she was not constitutionally and emotionally fit to have her baby. Like a tigress she fought the doctor for her right to keep her baby, and she fought him, Chakotay. By the time she was sleeping again, he was emotionally drained.

Then there were the times that he had nightmares. They were always of him standing on the bridge and hearing Kathryn’s screams and hearing that damned music. With hindsight, he knew now that Kashyk had meant for him to listen and be helpless. On the nights that he dreamed, Kathryn was always there, with a cool cloth to wipe his brow.

Then he would touch her belly, swollen with child, and feel the comfort. She would always say: "your daughter," imprinting very early on in his mind that the baby was his.

Chakotay smiled grimly. Kathryn didn’t need to get together baby things. Those months were the months Neelix had been happiest. The crew ate his food with gusto, and used all their replicator rations to get gifts and clothing for the coming child. Even Naomi was prepared to sacrifice her own stuffed Treevis. At which point Kathryn gently teased her and said:

"Naomi who never lets Treevis out of her sight? No, my little assistant, you hold on to Treevis. I’m sure the baby will be too small to play with toys then. But thank you, all the same..."

All the toys and clothing had been packed up. Kathryn’s apartment had an extra room in which they’d stored it.

Chakotay smiled. Kathryn had been sentimental and didn’t want to part with the stuff so soon. He wondered now whether it was still there. It had been six months ago when he last visited her.

He sighed again deeply, got up and prepared for bed.

The last image he had before he fell into a deep sleep, was of Kathryn, lying in sickbay just after she had given birth. Her eyes had been tired, full of tears when she said:

"She’s your daughter, Chakotay..."

*************

Kathryn Janeway rose from her chair at her desk and made her way to her bed. An hour ago the idea to sleep in that bed again had been particularly abhorrent.

She straightened out the sheets and covers, wishing for a moment that Chakotay was with her.

I must have imagined it. She shook her head, rejecting the idea that he said "I love you..."

And if he did? Her heart sang wildly for a second.

But he’s my friend.

He called me sweetheart.

"Sleep, Kathryn," she admonished herself as she pulled the covers over her, already feeling the swirling eddies of sleep overcoming her.

He whispered I love you...

It was the smiling image of Chakotay with his dimpled cheeks and his tattoo that remained with her and eventually receded slowly as she sank into a deep and dreamless sleep.

**************

END PART THREE

PART FOUR

Kathryn Janeway stood in front of her dresser in her bedroom and looked critically at herself. The new uniform fitted closely and looked very elegant. It did always look better on women than the men.... She smoothed down the jacket, her hands caressing the fine fabric. Raising her chin a little, she was able to see more clearly the admiral's black rank pin with two gold pips. On her left sleeve was the red bar of command overlaying the black cuff.

She was glad that Chakotay had been able to make it. It was one of the absolute advantages of being back in the Alpha Quadrant. Their missions were no longer so protracted as the five year missions of Captain Kirk. The Odessa was docked at McKinley Station for maintenance, and would remain there for a week with only its skeleton crew. Chakotay would go back on duty in two days' time. For now, she felt the elation again of earlier that day when he arrived. He had given her one of his bear hugs and she had done the required protesting, laughing as he put her down again.

"You seem happy to be here," Kathryn said as she hooked her arm through his and walked with him towards their transport that would take them to her apartment.

"Hey, you'll be in admiral's uniform for the first time, and I want to be the first to see it," he quipped. He was gratified that she appeared completely relaxed, squeezing his arm as they sat close together in the hovercar.

"Just don't demand the Dying Swan outfit," she warned him.

"Oh, that will come. I'll see it again, don't worry."

"Don't tell me: Tom has made a bet again?"

"You don't want to know, Kathryn. You don't want to know."

She had been happy to see him, his face and smile so familiar that she couldn't resist the urge to cup his cheek with her palm and say:

"I'm glad you're here, Chakotay."

There had been that same tender glint is his eyes as he squeezed her arm. It was in the gesture more than his words or smile that she knew how happy he was to be "home" as he called her home base. Most of the time when he was back, he was always at his own place. Then she would be somewhere in deep space. Perhaps, she mused, she could suggest to him that they share the same base...

She thought of the night a month ago when she had that nightmare and he had so timeously contacted her. Even now, she still wondered how he was always able to sense when she was distressed about anything. He must have sensed it that night. It was uncommon for him to relay a subspace communication when he knew it was in the dead of night for her and she was probably asleep.

But that night. He had taken one look at her and knew that she had that nightmare again. His calmness was almost tangible as she touched her screen that night. It calmed her too, and by the time he signed off, she was able to sleep deeply again, the horror images of her nightmare replaced by the image of Chakotay.

Perhaps one day... One day she can look at what happened with some sort of detachment. Now, while she was still struggling and - with Chakotay's constant encouragement and support - succeeding to come to terms with what happened, those events still loomed too large in her life.

It was some comfort that her nightmares were becoming less frequent and intense. Most of the time though, she still missed Karina - Karina who had been too frail and sick at birth to survive longer than a week.

Kathryn’s hand went to her neck, feeling for the locket that was hidden under her uniform. It was against Starfleet regulations to wear it on the outside. She fingered the locket protectively and closed her eyes as images of the baby came to her. Karina in her crib in sickbay; Chakotay sitting next to the crib and stroking Karina’s soft black curls; Chakotay comforting her when the EMH placed the baby on her bosom. She pictured Karina drawing her last breath with a soft sigh while Chakotay’s one hand cupped her tiny head.

The doctor’s voice had sounded so distant, disengaged when he said: ‘I’m sorry, Captain, Commander."

Kathryn pulled back her thoughts from that scene in sickbay and forced herself to the present.

Over lunch - replicated, she was still hopeless at cooking - he asked what she had done with Karina's things. They weren't in the spare bedroom.

"It's in my room, in my wardrobe," she told him. "In the boxes there."

"I thought by now you would - "

"I can't, Chakotay... not yet," she said softly, bending her head and studying the food on her plate. She couldn't look at him.

He must have thought me a sentimental old fool, Kathryn mused where she was still standing, running a brush through her hair. Her reverie was disturbed when there was a knock on her door.

"Come in."

The door opened.

"Kathryn, I - "

Kathryn smiled as she enjoyed the look on Chakotay’s face. It was surprise followed by a look she had become used to seeing often lately: a fire he seemed unable to mask. He did try, she had to give him that.

"You’re staring, you know," she said drily.

"You are very beautiful," he whispered, his voice sounding hoarse.

"Thank you. You tell me that all the time - "

"In your new uniform, Kathryn," he said as he stepped closer and encircled her waist with his arms. She sighed as she rested her head against his hard chest. She could feel him pressing his lips to her hair. It felt so good, his rock hard chest so reassuring.

"You like it?" she asked softly, almost dreamily.

"Hmmm..."

"I’m your boss, Chakotay..."

"Weren’t you always?"

"No," came her muffled response as she rounded his broad chest with her arms.

"You are now, Admiral," he declared, holding her reluctantly away from him. He lifted her left arm, looked at the black cuff of her sleeve and studied the red band. "Command, naturally."

"Naturally."

Black eyes stared long into blue eyes. Black eyes smouldered and blue eyes waited. Her lips were slightly parted, her breathing becoming shallow as she watched in fascination his own mouth coming closer to hers. Her eyes closed the second she felt his lips brush hers. She was filled with a sudden sensation of drowning as his lips moved softly, tentatively exploring. A blinding pleasure burst through her, the giddy feeling persisting as she moaned.

He pulled away immediately, a look of... guilt? in his eyes.

"Sorry..."

"Chakotay..."

Kathryn could almost see how he reined in his passion and brought his feelings under control again. She sighed inwardly. He had become so good a doing it, and now... he must have thought she moaned because she was afraid... She hugged him tightly, his arms coming around her spontaneously.

"Don’t be sorry, Chakotay," she murmured against his chest. "Don’t be..." she repeated. She looked up and stood a little away from him, her hands smoothing down her jacket again. He tucked a stray hair behind one ear.

"Ready, Captain Chakotay?" she asked.

He held his arm to her and she eagerly linked her own arm through his.

"Yes, Ma’am," he said smartly, her heart thumping as he graced her with his dimpled smile.

**********

Kathryn Janeway, whose left hand sported her wedding band, accepted her commendations of the past year with great modesty. She was not inclined to parade any achievements, played down heavily the - what they thought, deserved, and what she thought unimportant - status of being legendary.

Granted, they had arrived back in the Alpha Quadrant with "decades worth of information" - thus spake Chakotay at the time - that would keep Starfleet and the Federation too busy to think of legends.

She thought all the fanfare surrounding Voyager’s return had died down, but now, listening to Admiral Royston’s droning voice as he expounded the triumphs of Voyager in their times of great adversity, surprised her that audiences were still listening with great eagerness.

They were as eager to hear all the between-the-line tales that accompanied Voyager home. Her marriage to Chakotay leaked out the minute they set foot on Federation soil, right here, at Headquarters. It had been a source of great and juicy interest. After a while she had just decided to wear her wedding band all the time. There was no point in hiding the fact that she and Chakotay were married, and speculation had been rife about their living arrangements.

"Captain, you should hear them," complained B’Elanna a few weeks after their return.

"It will die down, B’Elanna," she assured her Chief Engineer. Kathryn shrugged mentally. They were still talking, she supposed.

Maquis and Starfleet becoming bedfellows...

So she listened with as much interest and dignity she could muster, while her eyes scanned the audience. There were Tom and B’Elanna sitting. She spotted Tuvok, Tom’s mother, smiled when her eyes connected with Gretchen Janeway and Phoebe. Tom’s father, Owen Paris, a member of the review board for promotions and commendations, sat with that august body.

Chakotay sat almost at the back, in the first seat next to the aisle. She smiled briefly when her eyes met his, then looked quickly away again as she felt her inside fluttering.

He looked incredibly handsome, she thought. He looked so completely her warrior who swore he’d "stay by her side" forever, so familiar, so dear.

Oh, Chakotay... Once there was a time I didn’t know your name. Now, I can’t imagine my life without you in it.

I’m wearing him down, Kathryn thought as she looked at him. For years I’ve been taking and he’s been giving, giving, giving...

I want to be there, with you, Kathryn she remembered him saying months ago.

I need you, Chakotay were her words to him at the time. It had been the first time she admitted to herself her need of him. How could it not have been? she thought. It was always there, a layer beneath the layer. It was a latent feeling of need that knew it could be served by her warrior. A warrior so tough that it was hard to look at that strong man sitting there and know that with those very hands he could, with infinite tenderness, soothe away her pain...

"I’ll will be your friend, always, Kathryn," he had said on so many occasions.

Yet she knew, if she could allow him - allow herself - that he wanted to be more than that.

Is that why she agreed to his proposal of marriage in the first place? She had been so distraught, demented with fright when she said ‘yes’ to him. But right through those moments of total trauma, of believing her life had ended, registered that fact that with him, she could show her pain. He wanted the crew to know that he was by her side and that together they could present to them a united front.

Did she know then? Did she ever have time to rationalise that decision? Was her acceptance given because she knew deep down that she would want to remain married to him for the rest of her life?

She needed him.

Time to reflect on the merits or demerits of parameters, time to ponder on the prudence of their marriage of convenience was no longer relevant as she acknowledged finally, as a statement of fact, that she could not live without Chakotay.

She heard dimly, and then loudly as it broke into her thoughts, the applause of the audience. She rose to acknowledge their accolade of her.

That was when it happened. The musical strains of Mahler's First Symphony filled the auditorium.

For a moment she froze...

*********

"Oh, great Kahless," it burst from B’Elanna. "What the hell are they doing?"

Next to her, Tom paled as he looked first at B'Elanna, then at the face of Admiral Janeway. To the majority in the audience it was probably a fitting musical tribute to her, liking as she did, classical music. To the former crew of Voyager, it brought back memories so distraught, so violent that even Tuvok bent his head.

Everyone who had been on Voyager that fateful day heard, rushing from the far reaches of the Delta Quadrant, the music of Mahler’s first symphony - the music every single member heard on Voyager while Kashyk and his men inspected the ship. It was the music they knew Kathryn Janeway had come to hate. They had known by some instinct what was happening in Kathryn Janeway’s ready room while that music played. They knew how Chakotay had been beaten senseless trying to save her from her ordeal.

Kathryn Janeway’s face froze for a second before, visibly, to her former crew at least, she smiled tightly again, and it appeared to all present that her discomfort of precisely two seconds was just an aberration. Those who  noticed the dark, quiet man who had been sitting at the back, making his way towards where his wife was standing, thought it proper that her husband should be the first to congratulate her. They didn't realise that the way he touched Admital Janeway's hand was an unspoken message to her, understood with compassion only by her former crew who knew how the music distressed her. Captain Janeway's husband, in dress uniform, stood back again, but never far away from her. 

Tom could feel the skin of his palm breaking, so tightly B’Elanna's nails dug into his flesh. He winced, then braved the pain as he looked at B'Elanna again. There were angry tears in her eyes, and he could hear the soft growl in her throat.

They were distraught as the audience rose finally to congratulate Starfleet's newest admirals.

"She's distressed, Tom, I can see it, even if the others can't."

"I know, B’Elanna," he said, his own eyes darkening with remembered pain. There were nights when Chakotay had simply been too exhausted to tend to Kathryn Janeway, and he had taken over.

"She won’t be able to hide it for long," B’Elanna said fiercely as she grabbed Tom’s arm. "We must do something, Tom," she said as they moved around and shook hands.

"It’s all right, B’Elanna. We don’t have to do anything right now. Look."

He pointed to where Kathryn had been standing, Chakotay next to her. They saw Chakotay taking Kathryn Janeway by her elbow and leading her quickly through the door.

B’Elanna gave a sigh of relief.

"I’m glad he’s here, Tom," she said to him.

"Yeah. If there’s any person she needs right now, it’s Chakotay," he agreed.

**********

The air was crisp as they walked through the garden of Headquarters.

Kathryn walked stiffly, barely allowing Chakotay to touch her arm. She didn’t speak, and he thought as he looked at her profile in the moonlight, that she was too quiet. Her old defense mechanism, he realised, the one masking her terrible turmoil. She was breaking again, and all it needed was Mahler.

They stopped near a small lake - or large pond, he thought idly.

He had been warned by their EMH as he looked at Kathryn, her face suddenly so gaunt, so pale. She appeared too calm, therefore too distraught to cry which, to his own distraught mind, would have been something at least, some display of emotion, some cathartic experience. He wanted to haul her in his embrace and hold her until his arms turned stiff. He wanted to shield her from her pain and ask the spirits to give her pain to him. He couldn't bear the look on her face. He had seen it too many times, and too many times he had mustered his complete reservoir of strength to help her fight her demons. No one esle could help Kathryn when she was like this. She needed him now and he implored the heavens to pour their strength into him so that he could give Kathryn some of it...

"Be prepared, Commander, for some amount of regressing..." he heard the voice of their EMH.

On a few occasions when it seemed that Kathryn won, she had taken more steps regressing than going forward. Like now.

One step forward. Two steps back...

He reached out to touch her cool cheek, but she backed away. He could see how her body stiffened. His hand slumped again to his side. She stood proud, erect, yet so incredibly frail that his heart bled again.

"Prax...he pinned my hands down..."

"Kathryn..."

"They laughed, you know."

Oh God, her eyes are hollow again...

"Please don’t, Kathryn..."

"And Kashyk, he - "

"For God’s sake, Kathryn..."

" - he told me he - he liked his - his women that w-way."

Chakotay reached forward again to take her into his arms, but she backed away.

"We can win this round too, Kathryn," he said firmly, realising that his own calm was important.

"He t-took a knife, Chakotay," she continued in relentless self-punishment, "and he - "

"No more, Kathryn. Can’t you see you’re letting him win again?" Chakotay inched forward imperceptibly.

" - carved his name here... here," she stammered, her hand moving with coarse lack of dignity just below her belly.

Chakotay wanted to die. "It’s no longer there, Kathryn," he said softly, inching forward again.

"He said I’m his property."

"No, you are your own master... He robbed you, Kathryn, of your right to negotiate."

"He said I should - should be p-proud to c-carry the brand of Kashyk."

"You can get beyond this, my love," Chakotay whispered, "let me help you..."

Kathryn looked at him, her eyes empty, the only memories there the ones of her night of terror. He moved forward again, and this time she didn’t jump back. Instead, she asked:

"Why should you help me? I’m a whore. He whored me - "

"No, Kathryn. It was a criminal act, but you're a survivor, you hear me? A survivor..."

Kathryn's expression changed. It appeared to him she was pulling back from the brink. He knew the signs. She wanted him near her now...

"It hurts, Chakotay...don't leave me..."

"I love you, Kathryn. I’m here and I will help you..."

He reached out and touched her cheek. She didn’t flinch this time. He sighed with relief. A small victory. He saw her eyes close, saw the first of the tears that seeped through her closed lids.

"Let me hold you, my love..."

"Yes..." There was a soft sob.

His hands were on her shoulders and he pulled her closer. She didn’t demur. Another victory. When she stood in his arms, he raised his hand and caressed her cheek, the fingers slowly moving over the damp softness. His lips were pressed against her hair.

How long they stood there, he didn’t know, but he knew it was a long while later that Kathryn’s shivering stopped, that she eventually became calm.

"Take me home, please," she begged him.

Half an hour later they were ready to leave, after the required good-byes in which he absorbed as many of the family and friends’ concerned queries that he could. Kathryn was quiet on the way home. It contrasted so radically with her light-hearted banter when they traveled to headquarters that he wanted to weep. Then she had hugged him with great affection, playfully teased and touched his tattoo, made jokes... There had been none of the old concerns and horrors of right now. Her face was pale, her lips pressed into a tight line.

At least, she is allowing me to touch her.

***********

"I’m sorry, Chakotay," she said later as she lay in her bed. He had drawn up a chair and was sitting in it. Her hand rested in his. He had taken her own med-kit from the bathroom, and had given her a mild sedative, one the EMH prescribed, that she could use in circumstances such as these.

"Kathryn, I don’t want you to apologise for what happened tonight, will you?"

Her hand clutched his tighter. "Are you going to leave?" she asked.

"I'm staying here with you, Kathryn."

"Thank you. I impose on you too much, you know," she said sleepily.

"You’re supposed to. You’re my wife, remember?"

"I’m sorr- "

"Sleep, sweetheart. Tomorrow you will smile again," he soothed her. He bent forward and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there for a few seconds.

When he sat back again, he was glad to see that her eyes had closed. He sighed with relief, but he knew the relief would be short-lived.

Twice during the night he helped her through her nightmares. Twice he carried her to her bathroom and held her while she retched painfully. He helped her into clean nighties, then tucked her in and spoke in low soothing tones until she fell asleep again.

In the early hours of the morning, Kathryn slipped into the peaceful rhythm of sleep...

Chakotay got up, rubbed his eyes and noticed with surprise that he was still in his uniform. He ordered the light setting at ten percent before he left to go to his own room.

*************

END PART FOUR

PART FIVE

Chakotay was awakened in the morning by the soft creaking of the bed as another weight bore down on it. He turned on his back and stared into Kathryn’s face.

She looked... relaxed, he thought. His hand went up to touch her cheek.

"Good morning..." he said, then waited for her response. She leaned forward and kissed him on his cheek.

"Morning," came her soft reply. He shifted so that she could lie down next to him. He drew her to him so that her hand rested on his broad chest and her face nuzzled gently in his neck.

"Hmmm..." he murmured into her hair, "it wouldn’t take much to encourage me to wake up like this every morning..."

She shifted from him, bracing herself on her elbow and looked into his eyes. Had she any idea how alluring she looked, with her golden hair hanging softly around her face?

"I - I thought about it yesterday, Chakotay. I was wondering if you wanted to make your base here, with me..."

"I - " he started, too aware of her presence in his bed, too aware of her softness, her allure. She appeared totally unaware of the effect she was having on him. She even sidled closer to him, so that her legs touched his. He burned for a second as his legs made contact with hers. His eyes were glued to the gentle swell of her breasts just above the line of her low cut nightie.

This was what Kathryn was comfortable with, he knew. As long as he remained non-threatening, his touches detached and simply indicative of friendly comfort, she was fine...

Almost, almost he wanted to touch her breast, brush with his thumb over her soft skin. He pushed the thought away from him and looked in her eyes. His celebrated control was about to betray him. He kept a tight reign on his desire, and looked the part of friend who could allow her to wheedle anything from him.

For a fleeting second he had seen the trapped look in her eyes but it was gone quickly, a testament to her own effort of not wanting him to see her fear. It was a feeling that was quickly replaced by another look, one of disappointment.

"You don’t want to?" she asked. He scooped her into his arms, giddy as the smell of her hair invaded his nostrils.

"Of course, I’d like to," he said, nuzzling her neck.

"Thank you. Now I can really look forward to my husband coming home from a mission," she said, her eyes smiling as she enjoyed the way he slumped back and stared at her.

"You are going to miss me?" he asked as he allowed her to put her full weight on him, her hands cupping the side of his head.

"I will."

He sat up, and pulled her to a sitting position. He looked in her eyes, saw the openness, with none of the previous night’s trauma. He sighed with relief.

*

"You look better," he said later as they sat down to breakfast.

"Because you were here, with me," she answered as she took a sip of her juice. "You have been very, very patient with me. I - I want to thank you, Chakotay."

"I promised - "

"You'll be by my side forever..." Her voice was tender as she said it.

He covered her hand with his. "Kathryn, promise me you’ll call me when you want to talk, okay? Anytime of the day or night on subspace comms."

He saw her hesitation and knew she didn’t want to impose on him.

"Will you?" he asked again.

She nodded, then said: "I will, Chakotay. Now, are you going to help me move to my new office?"

He laughed out loud. The clouds were gone and he felt happy.

"Certainly. I only hope you aren’t shunted next to Tom’s father - "

"I am."

"No, really?"

"Really."

*********

Two days later Chakotay stood in Kathryn's office. He stared out the window that overlooked the beautiful grounds of Headquarters, then turned to look at her where she stood behind her desk.

A picture of him graced the desk and he smiled. She had been insistent when she said:

"Why, I had one of you on my desk on Voyager. Should it be any different? All the staff here have pictures of their - their loved ones - " He noticed how she stumbled over the last words.

He didn't tell her that the picture he had taken of her in her Admiral's uniform would be on his own desk on the Odessa.

"Kathryn, I'm turning grey, you know."

"Tom's father is grey."

Chakotay groaned. When Kathryn teased, she was on her mettle, and she wasn't going to let him rest.

"Okay, the picture probably is fine there."

"It belongs there, Chakotay," she said soberly.

She had said that barely five minutes ago. He was leaving on a three month mission and had to be on his ship by midday. It was now 0900. His heart felt heavy. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, things he couldn’t tell her. He knew she wasn’t ready to hear any sort of declaration of deeper feelings. The night of her commendation - two nights ago seemed like eternity now - she had been too strung out to absorb it when he said he loved her.

There was no response from her, whether in shocked denial or tender acknowledgment that he could know at least that she was aware of his deep feelings for her.

He was going to miss her, loving her so much and being away for three months without any encouragement or prospect that they were any closer to sharing a bedroom. This time he was worried as well, in spite of her promise that she would stay in contact with him, and would call him when she was distressed and needed to talk. It was wearing him down, being away and feeling helpless when she so clearly needed him in those times.

"Chakotay."

He turned round to face her, and she walked up to him.

"What is it, Chakotay?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

He sighed, not really knowing how to tell her.

"Tell me what’s wrong, please." 

He turned to stare out the window again, unable to stand the concern that was in her eyes. He didn’t want her to worry, but...

He turned back to her and took her in his arms. His hand stroked her beautiful hair of burnished gold and he wanted to stand forever just caressing the soft tresses. Cupping her cheeks he looked deeply into her eyes, and the old urge to kiss her took hold of him again.

He bent down, her small body soft and warm against him and when his lips touched hers, he was unable to stifle a moan as the heat seared him, the spirals of pleasure making him giddy with desire. Her lips were soft and for a moment she parted them and allowed him to probe her mouth. His tongue darted in her mouth, he nipped her lower lip gently, groaned when she melted for a second against him.

Did she feel the fire too?

It was over as quickly as it started as Kathryn pulled away suddenly. His eyes smouldered from the heat and she appeared... he wanted to think that she enjoyed the kiss, but...

"I wanted to tell you, Kathryn, before I leave..."

"What...?" she whispered, her palms resting against his chest.

"I love you..."

"Chakotay - "

"I always have, Kathryn. Always. I can’t think of any time that this feeling was not a part of me - "

"Chakotay, please, you - "

"I’ll not make any demands on you, if - if that’s what you are afraid of..."

"I’m not, Chakotay. You are too great a man to - to..."

"Overstep the boundaries?"

She looked away and he sighed.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, not looking at him, and when he placed his finger under her chin to look at him, her eyes were a little clouded.

"Hey, didn’t I say you shouldn’t be sorry?" he said, and he grazed her lower lip softly with his thumb. He was for a moment proud that he could do so with tenderness, without the raging need to grind his lips to hers.

"I’m sor- "

"Kathryn..." he said with a warning, smiling down at her. She smiled back, and he was glad that the uncomfortable moments faded and they could banter again like old friends. She looked relieved, and hugged him, giving him a playful rib.

"I’m going to miss you, Captain."

"You will, Admiral?"

"Oh, yes," she replied, absently brushing away imaginary fluff from his uniform.

"And what, pray, will Admiral Janeway miss the most?"

"You’re drinking too much coffee, Kathryn," she said in a good imitation of Chakotay.

Kathryn’s heart beat faster again when his face lit up in a wide smile that deepened his dimples. She sighed as she pressed her face against his hard chest again, and when she stepped back at last, she said softly:

"Please, do take care, will you?"

He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"I will, Kathryn. Now, shall we go?" he asked. She was going to accompany him to the shuttle launching pads.

"Maybe I should have said ‘keep the shuttle intact’" she quipped.

"I shall never live it down," he groaned as they left her office.

***********

Lieutenant Shanath, a young Bolian woman, looked at Admiral Janeway who was sitting at her desk and staring uncommonly long at the photograph of Captain Chakotay, her husband. Shanath had been newly appointed by the Admiral ahead of seventeen other hopefuls to be the Admiral’s personal aide.

She was excited, and the first person to know about her grand promotion was her cousin Chell, who served under Captain Chakotay on the Odessa.

"The Admiral is going to bite your head off," Chell said to her. "I speak from six years experience traveling around you know."

"Oh yes, Chell, and Captain Chakotay has no problem decking you..." she told him. Shanath had heard how Captain Chakotay used to keep his Maquis crew in line.

"Don’t mess with the Admiral," Chell had answered sullenly.

Shanath thought that for all that Chell was such a huge blabbermouth who needed no incentive to blabber, he was amazingly protective of what he termed: 'my two favourite commanders'. There were things that he would always keep close to his chest, she thought and oh, how she loved a good, well told tale!

She sighed.

I'm happy just being in her presence.

So she looked at her boss who seemed so deep in thought as she stared at the photo of the Captain. The Captain was such a handsome man, so strong. He could encircle the Admiral's waist with just his hands. How completely romantic: the Admiral, petit and beautiful, with her husband who towered above her, strong and steady as a rock.

She misses him already, Shanath realised as she watched how Admiral Janeway touched the frame lightly and smiled a gentle smile. She appeared pensive, yet Shanath could see that the Admiral's eyes were tender.

Only then the Admiral looked up. She was suddenly all brisk and business-like. She said to Shanath.

"Well, Lieutenant, let’s be about our business."

*************

END PART FIVE

PART SIX

"Another three weeks?"

"I’m sorry, Kathryn," Chakotay said as his face filled the screen. Kathryn sat frozen in her chair and stared at his face. "It’s unforeseen. I thought you would have known..."

"We were never certain that you’d have to extend the mission so soon. Admiral Kronberg - "

"Heads the Strategy Division, you know that."

"Yes..."

"He probably thought it wise not to inform you beforehand, Kathryn."

"I don’t pull strings and favours, Chakotay. But I would have liked to be prepared. I can’t believe I’m the last to know..."

"We can still talk, right?"

"Small comfort," Kathryn said, her disappointment acute.

"Believe me, Kathryn, I badly wanted to be home now, but we have to complete this mission first."

Kathryn felt ridiculously close to tears, and tried desperately to check herself. Her throat felt thick and she was certain he was making fun of her.

"I miss you," she said suddenly. With her elbow propped on the desk, she rested her chin on her palm. Her other hand touched his face on her screen.

She watched how his eyes closed.

He opened them again and looked at her, and he frowned the way he always did when he felt something deeply.

"I - forgive me, Kathryn. I’ll see you in three weeks - "

"Chakotay!"

Kathryn stared at the blank screen. He cut me off... she thought with surprise. For a few seconds she sat completely still, not knowing what to do. She just knew that three more weeks of waiting was a hellish experience. No one gets used to this, she thought. Not if you...

She looked at her hands and saw they were trembling.

"Is anything wrong, Admiral?" Lieutenant Shanath asked with great concern.

"I - er, no, it’s nothing," Kathryn replied as she quickly brought her great disappointment under control. She smiled at her aide and rose from her desk. Shanath thought that the Admiral, who had been expecting her husband home this very minute, masked her disappointment well. She sighed. The Admiral only ever smiled when Captain Chakotay was due to call, and after she had communicated with her husband. Now, for the Odessa to remain in deep space... Shanath sighed. The Admiral was due for a meeting and now was a good time to remind her...

"Your meeting with Admirals Henshaw and Paris is scheduled for 1400, Admiral."

"Thank you, Shanath," Kathryn Janeway said, wondering how she was going to get through the meeting without thinking about her husband. And Owen Paris... She sighed. He picked up everything so subtly, he was bound to notice. She owed that grey-haired gentleman so much. As she prepared to leave her office, she thought of her consultation with him the previous week 

"Now, Kathryn, you’re not missing that tattooed Captain of yours?" he had asked afterwards, his stern look just a screen for his most fatherly regard of her.

"Maybe... He's been my greatest fr- "

"Friend?" he grinned in maddening duplication of Tom's smug grins. "You mean your husband, don't you?"

"I mean my f-friend," she stammered.

"He’s your husband, Kathryn."

"Fine, Owen," she relented, "he’s my husband and I miss him."

Admiral Owen Paris had given her a speculative look, his eyes narrowing before he spoke.

"You love him."

It was a statement.

Irrefutable.

"I - " She had sagged back in her chair where she had been sitting opposite him in his office. She tried to avert his gaze, looked long out the window that allowed such a wonderful view of the fountains. Her capitulation, under the kind gaze of the man who guided her through her young life and first commended her on her command ability, was complete. How long had she fought her feeling? And why? She could not deny it now. Not anymore.

"Yes..." she whispered so softly that she thought he didn’t hear her, but when she looked at him, she saw the tenderness in Owen Paris’ eyes. She wiped the first tear that rolled down her cheek, rose from her chair and was ready to bolt out the door, but Owen Paris had anticipated her movement.

She had never in her life dreamed that she would one day cry on the shoulders of her mentor. She did so that day, a week ago. Every touch, every whisper, every tentative kiss, every desperate cry of longing for Chakotay culminated into one resounding fact: she loved her husband. With that knowledge came the second realisation: she must have always loved him. Still...

"I know you are afraid, Kathryn."

Owen Paris knew.

The only strings he ever pulled, he pulled for her when they returned. He had her medical records which pertained to that period in which she was treated after Kashyk's abuse of her, encrypted with a level 6 voice command clearance. Only Kathryn, Chakotay and Voyager's EMH had access to those records. By all accounts the baby Kathryn Janeway had given birth to, was fathered by her First Officer Commander Chakotay, her husband. Such was the trust she had in her own former crew when asked about her relationship with Commander Chakotay.

What happened to her was a violation they felt as if it happened to them. It was not something one tossed around in conversation as an item of idle gossip.

She had looked at Owen Paris then, saw the understanding in his eyes before she said:

"Yes... yes I am."

"Kathryn," Owen Paris said, his hands on her shoulders, and his eyes kind, "he will never hurt you."

Kathryn Janeway sighed as she approached the boardroom. Her mind had been a chaotic jumble. She missed Chakotay, she longed for him, and she was deeply disappointed that he would be gone another three weeks.

She drew in her breath before she entered the room, where the admirals waited for her.

****************

The next three weeks became the longest three weeks of her life. There was now little comparison between waiting six years to get home to the Alpha Quadrant, and three weeks in the Alpha Quadrant waiting for her husband to get home. She experienced something of the agony of waiting wives and mothers when their loved ones left on long missions.

By the end of the first week Kathryn Janeway became the third most unpopular admiral at Starfleet. She was only marginally beaten for second place by Admiral Necheyev, that old harridan who would leave no one alone, and for the first place by Admiral Owen McKenzie Paris, whom everyone left alone. He was truly not a man to be trifled with.

The only persons to pierce that gentleman's reserve other than his wife, was Kathryn Janeway, and one Chief Helmsman, Thomas Eugene Paris. Kathryn Janeway-Chakotay, as she began to think of herself in recent weeks, feeling to append his name to hers and giving her relationship with her angry warrior a sense of permanency, joined Necheyev and Paris as the Starfleet elite whom no one messed with when they were angry.

Therefore, when Chakotay called her on a subspace frequency while he was in deep space, on a morning when she had a stack of PADDS to study, Kathryn was not the happiest person in the universe. She scowled most of the morning, and the ever ebullient Shanath, her aide, bore most of the brunt of her boss' ill humour.

A matter which was aggravated by the fact that Chakotay was in deep space, too far away from Kathryn for her tirades to have any significant effect on him. She had little inclination to rationalise that her intense yearning for him was what gave rise to her present condition of: Kathryn Janeway-Chakotay is not a happy camper.

Their communication thus:

"When was I supposed to contact you?" Chakotay asked as he smiled from subspace at her.

"Yesterday, Chakotay," Kathryn replied, her eyes glaring accusingly at him. "You never forget," she snapped at him.

"Kathryn, you know we agreed that we - "

"I waited half the night. I drank too many cups of coffee just to keep awake..."

He had the gall to laugh.

"That’s a joke, right?"

She bristled, then relented a fraction. She was not going to let him get the better of her.

"Okay, one cup."

He laughed again, clearly an indication that he was skeptical. She glared; was in no humour to be amused. He relented a fraction.

"I didn’t want to disturb you, Kathryn, and I do have a ship to run."

"Chakotay! You could make the time - "

"I’m making it now, Kathryn," he retorted, then ducked when Kathryn threw something at the screen.

"What the hell was that?" he asked.

"You wouldn’t want to know," she said sullenly as she looked to the floor where the pendant she threw at him, fell.

"You miss me?"

"No, Chakotay. I really hate you."

"Then you don’t want to engage in idle conversation with your husband who misses you really badly, and - "

Kathryn had the distinct impression he was laughing at her expense, an offense which fuelled her anger. Dammit, why did he have to look so handsome, and why, for heaven's sake, did those dimples have to sit so unfairly beautiful on him? She pursed her lips, then bit out:

"Fine, Mister. You want to play games? Don’t call me next week."

"Admiral Janeway, I, Captain Chakotay hereby solemnly swear to stop calling his wife on subspace - "

She backtracked.

"Don’t you dare!"

"Come on, Kathryn. Say nicely: ‘I miss you, Chakotay’".

"Chakotay, you will be on time next week," she said stiffly, ignoring his words. "Don’t let me wait."

"Yes, Ma’am." God, those dimples...

"That’s an order."

"Aye," he said, then laughed as he closed his communication.

Kathryn stared at the screen, still hearing Chakotay’s laughter. She bent down to pick up the pendant he had given her. She opened the locket, the picture of Karina gracing the left side, and the once empty right side was now filled with a picture of Chakotay.

**********

On the USS Odessa, in deep space in the Rozell Sector, Captain Chakotay sat at his desk in his ready room and smiled as he watched the scowl on Kathryn’s face just before he switched off.

He was still smiling as his door chimed.

"Come."

Tom Paris stood just inside the door after it closed behind him.

"Captain."

Chakotay beckoned him to take a seat, watching the pilot’s eyes dance with a wicked glint.

"Tom, where’s the cream?"

"That obvious, huh."

"Come on, spit it out."

"Well?" Tom asked, "what did she say?"

"She’s as mad as a hatter, Tom. She actually threw something at the screen."

"A brick?"

Chakotay laughed. "No, something smaller, thank heavens. I think it was a gift I had given her almost a year ago."

"She’ll never know, Captain. Boy, I would have liked to see her face. We were supposed to be home as we speak!"

"I’m likely to get a brick thrown at me when we get back. It was definitely the old Kathryn that surfaced. She ordered me to be on time next week!"

"And you said: 'Yes, Ma'am'."

"Aye!" Chakotay said so quickly that Tom burst out laughing.

"It’s working. Trust Dad to wrangle an extension for this mission. Now we have to drift around here for another two weeks..."

"Your father knew what he was doing, Tom. Kathryn looked really disappointed. I actually think - "

"She won’t say it, Chakotay, but she loves you deeply."

Chakotay sighed. "You know, Tom, I wish - "

"It’s a start, Chakotay. She’s fallen for you..."

There was understanding in Tom’s eyes as he looked at his Captain. He thought privately that Admiral Janeway has been falling for her husband since New Earth. Well, he sighed inwardly, nothing like prolonging the agony. Chakotay deserved happiness, he deserved that Kathryn Janeway should love her husband back with the same depth and intensity that she was loved by him. Great, Dad. It was a real conspiracy! Now, she really missed Chakotay!

"It’s a start," Chakotay agreed. "Now I suppose you’ll let B’Elanna know that your conspiracy worked, right?"

"Conspiracy? What conspiracy? And don’t forget, Captain," Tom grinned, "I’m also likely to face a few bricks when we get back...

***********

Admiral Kathryn Janeway spent the next week pining. Every day brought her closer to her scheduled communication with Chakotay. Her heart felt heavy, and she wondered not for the first time how she could live without her warrior.

She walked around her apartment, touching ornaments, walking into Chakotay’s room and looked at his bed. His robe hanged behind the door. She buried her face in the soft terry fleece, inhaling his smell. On an impulse she removed her own robe and put his on.

It brought him closer to her. She felt closer as she pulled the garment tighter around her. She walked to her own room, and looked at her bed. She pulled her face and groaned.

Her novel was lying on the bedstand, and she sat down on the bed to read.

I’m still on page three...

"Admit it, Kathryn, you are restless, you’re likely to turn into an insomniac again."

Kathryn turned the pages listlessly, read a line here and there. Soon her thoughts would be on Chakotay again; her eyes would fix upon a spot on the wall and she'd stare unseeingly for endless minutes.

Finally, she took her book and walked to the lounge. She groaned again. For all that Chakotay only recently made this place his home base, there were already signs everywhere of his presence. Kathryn herself had insisted that he put his medicine wheel against one of the walls in the lounge.

A sand-painting of an eagle took pride of place against another wall.

I miss you, Chakotay, so much I can’t breathe anymore without thinking about you. I want you home, please...

Her words were like a prayer as she moved around with restless energy. She entered his bedroom again, then decided to lie down on his bed. Removing his robe, Kathryn threw it at the foot end of the bed. The covers felt cool and comfortable as she slid under them, her eyes closing as she felt again Chakotay’s nearness. When she buried her face in his pillow, her warm tears soaked into it.

The second night she slept in his bed again and by the third night, the bed was hers. She felt his presence so strongly then. During the day at work, the prospect of going home in the evening was no longer so daunting. Sleeping in his room became her sole comfort. There Kathryn could cry, hug his pillow and imagine it was him. There she dreamed - images of her terrifying nightmares slowly, very slowly being replaced by dreams of Chakotay.

"Kathryn, have you been having a nightmare again?" he asked her the second week.

"It’s - it’s alright Chakotay," she said, "it wasn’t so bad."

"I said you could call me anytime, Kathryn. Why didn't you?"

Kathryn looked guiltily at him, then she turned her face away. He became instantly more worried.

"Sweetheart, you look unsettled. What’s wrong?"

Her heart started pounding when she heard his endearment.

"N-nothing, Chakotay. I’m fine, really. Please, don’t worry," she whispered as she saw the concern in his face.

How could she tell him that it was his face she saw when she dreamed in his bed? How could she tell him that she loved him? Her body ached with yearning for him - an ache that had become a dull throb every single minute of every day.

"Kathryn," he sighed, and she could see how a nerve twitched in his jaw, "you are unhappy..."

"I - " She wanted to tell him she loved him. She wanted to tell him that. "I m-miss you, that’s all"

"Kathryn..."

"I’ll see you next week, Chakotay," she said, her eyes dark with unhappiness.

She switched off her console, sat for a few seconds staring at it and cried again.

********

It was 0100 when Chakotay quietly entered their apartment. He put his duffel down where he was standing in the lounge, wondering why the light in his bedroom was still at high illumination.

The door was ajar and when he looked in, he saw Kathryn fast asleep in his bed. He stood there watching her for a long time, his heart singing, a wild elation taking hold of him.

She lay on her back, one arm flung out over the covers and the other hand tucked snugly under her cheek. She had on her pink gown, the one held up by only two thin straps. He could see the gentle swell of her breasts move as she breathed. She was still wearing her locket, and it rested in the valley of her breasts. A hundred possibilities flew through his head, and none he wanted to entertain. It was too dizzyingly fantastic that she was in his bed, sleeping there as if... He felt his magnificent control break as Kathryn stirred, moaning as she changed position.

"Chakotay..." His name was uttered softly, as if she sobbed. She drew in a deep gasp and sat up suddenly and stared unseeingly in front of her.

"Kathryn?" he asked softly, immediately concerned. He moved forward and touched her slender and oh, so soft and smooth shoulder.

She looked at him as if he were still part of whatever she dreamed.

"I’m here, Kathryn," he whispered, his eyes soft as his gaze rested on her.

"Chakotay?" she asked, then she gave a huge sob and hurled herself in his arms. His arms went protectively around her, and he buried his face in the softness of her hair.

"My love," he cried brokenly as she clutched wildly at him.

"Chakotay," she wailed, "I’ve loved you for so long..."

"Beloved..." he whispered as her soft body melted into his.

***********

END PART SIX

PART SEVEN

Her fingers came up and touched his face. His eyes were closed as he reveled in the connection of skin against skin. It was tentative, fingers trembling as it sought the familiar lines of his tattoo and skimmed feather-light over each pore along which the dark markings were traced. He expelled a low gasp as her fingers trailed their path down, to rest against each cheek, her thumb brushing like a quivering feather over his slightly parted lips.

He arched his neck as the sensation of electrifying wonder pricked every nerve ending. Fingers that left his face now trailed to his neck and he could feel how her left thumb grazed one by one each rank pip on his collar. He found himself unable to open his eyes, and he drew in his breath, only to let it escape in a little sharp soft whoosh. Hands moved to his face again, and fingers queried the hot trail of tears that blazed their way down his face.

His hands came up and touched her soft hair, pressing her gently closer to him again, but she held herself back, content just to touch him. So her journey resumed, each stop becoming more and more a touch that seemed to indicate a desire of returning, and like a pilgrim, savour once more the joy and peace of fulfilment.

He sat still on the bed, and let Kathryn touch him. He opened his eyes at last and watched her. Her lips were parted, and her eyes seemed to follow each movement, each little tour a discovery with the same sense of wonder that a child looks at a long desired toy. He groaned as her fingers trembled against his lips. It was a sound of old yearning that bubbled deep inside him and found its way to her heart.

His need was clear.

She leaned into him at last, and with her hands on his shoulders raised herself slightly so that her lips brushed against his. He gave a sob as he pressed closer, and the touch of her lips deepened into a sweet explosion of sparks.

She sat back again and looked at him, her eyes heavy, sultry.

"I love you," came the words again from her, soft and low it was, like a gentle breeze of a morning.

"I am yours, beloved - body and soul," came his answer as he took her hand gently and guided it to his chest so that she could feel the wild thudding of his heart. "Feel what you do to me, Kathryn..."

"Yes..."

"Undress me, Kathryn," he begged softly, and he moaned when she complied. He could hear the slow, grating sound of the zipper as it made its inexorable journey way down.

He heard her suck in her breath when she finally pulled his red turtleneck over his head, his arms going up to discard it quickly.

"Don't be afraid," he encouraged gently as he watched her hesitate.

She looked at him, then her eyes fastened on his chest again. "Come, I'll help you," he coaxed as he pulled off his boots and socks and shifted so he could sit fully on the bed to face her.

"I - " she started again, softly, tentatively.

"It's alright, my Kathryn, put your mouth there," he whispered, then gasped as her hands homed slowly, with some intense fascination in on his nipples. She touched them, drawing little circles with her thumb so that his nipples stood stiff and hard, dancing to her touch.

"Yes... that's good..." he gasped, then groaned aloud when her mouth, moist and hot, covered one nipple. She drew away quickly when she heard his groan, a startled look in her eyes. "More... I want more, Kathryn," he begged. His hands were in her hair, his skin burning as the moist touch of her mouth seared and sent deep sensations of pleasure through him.

Her hands were against his shoulders, reveled in the hard muscles that twitched at her touch. He took her hands, his fingers circling her wrists. She cried out, and when he looked in her eyes, he saw a brief flash of fear.

He cupped her face, looked deeply in her eyes and said softly, like a vow:

"Never, beloved, will I hurt you. Never."

"I - I k-know," she stammered softly.

"Make love to me, Kathryn... I need you. Here, feel. Feel how I tremble at your touch," he said as he guided her hand again gently, this time to the tight bulge of his erection. He cried out in pleasured pain as her hand covered him, a sensation that burned through the fabric of his trousers. He was a quivering mass as her hand massaged him, rubbing and kneading, his rock hard shaft straining and straining.

"See? It begs for you to release it, my Kathryn," he whispered hoarsely.

He watched her face as his reaction to her touch registered. The first hesitant fluttering of her eyelashes interplayed with the incredible way it seemed that the tiny flecks in her eyes moved like little shadows. Then it seemed to him that those tiny flecks all joined, giving the impression that her pupils dilated. Her lips parted and he could hear the soft, low hiss as she breathed.

Her hand was still on his crotch, and a low sob escaped her as his hand caressed her cheek. She was able to feel, through the fabric, how he became harder and harder at her touch, how that part of him throbbed under the ministration of her hands.

"That is what you do to me... Love me, Kathryn," came his voice, begging and trembling as she heard in it his yearning for release.

Her hand released him, an action that was unwilling, loath to leave the warmth her hand generated, but which in breathless anticipation prepared for the next movement. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, his hard muscles twitching under her touch as they smoothed their way up from his waist. Her thumbs pressed against the collarbones, and Chakotay gave a long, soft sigh as she eased him back against the pillows.

He looked at her looming over him, and the impulse to close his eyes and just die with pleasure was intense as her creamy breasts were revealed the way she leaned forward. The locket dangled between them, just touching the edge of the neckline of what he thought had to be her most incredibly sexy nightgown. Pink and long and soft and satiny, it kissed her skin, the folds of it, like her skin, creamy and rich. He wanted to eat her... Her hair slinked down and when she lifted her face, he thought illogically of a young tigress as she readied to pounce. Kathryn's eyes... He was riveted for long seconds just staring at the way her eyes darkened with passion.

He found his voice at last.

"Computer, light at - "

"No! No..." she murmured.

"Kathryn...?"

"I want to see you..."

"Sweetheart, yes... I'm yours..."

"I want to love you," Kathryn murmured again.

"Let me see you, Kathryn," came his entreaty as she straddled him only to lean forward and cup his face between her hands.

"Soon..." she whispered into his mouth just before her lips touched his.

He moaned softly as he opened his mouth, her tongue greedily darting in and tasting him. He pressed against her, wanting to suck on her lower lips, but she beat him, her own teeth claiming his lip and nipping, sucking, pulling. He heard her gasp with pleasure as he held her head and caught her mouth in a deep, searing kiss. Again he felt the tears squeezing from his eyelids as he experienced her savouring his taste, his smell in the way she melted into him.

Her satin gown increased the sensation of erotic pleasure as it slinked smoothly between them, causing him to groan again.

"More..." came his plea, and Kathryn complied, sliding down his length until her hands connected with the waist band of his trousers.

"Yes..."

She pulled it down, in agonising thoroughness moved her hands along his burning skin as the trousers came away, and his penis was released from its restraining tightness. When the discarded pants joined the rest of his clothing, Kathryn looked at his quivering shaft.

"I want you, Kathryn... take me..."

"Yes," was her soft answer as her hand took him and she began the gentle motion of massaging, pushing and pulling his skin, his tip swollen and already moist from his own pre-cum fluid that squeezed from the narrow slit.

He cried out as her tongue licked at him, cried again as her mouth released him, a feeling so bereft that he begged her to return her hot mouth there.

"Soon..." she promised as her mouth started its journey over his hard body, sucked and nipped at him, all the way up his chest until she reached his mouth,

"I love you, Chakotay," she murmured again, and his tears spilled as he sensed how her hands slid up her own thighs, pulling her nightgown high up over her hips. His penis pressed into her stomach. He wanted to help her, but she beckoned him to stillness while she raised herself on her knees as she straddled him. He could see her take him, one hand on his penis and her other hand gently prising her folds open, to prepare herself for entry.

He groaned as she lubricated him, rubbing his tip into the opening of her very wet and very hot centre.

"Kathryn..." he cried as his body quivered with need. He wanted to push into her, his being screamed to take her wildly, and fill her to the hilt. And so he suffered the most excruciating pleasure of feeling her sink down on him, inch for agonising inch, until he saw no more of his shaft. It was embedded in her.

"Touch me there, Chakotay..."

His fingers were there before she completed her words. He was drowning as his finger found her most sensitive nub. When he started to rub gently, she started to move on him, in a rhythm they quickly established as desire exploded into gasps and grunts and cries.

"Oh, great God, Kathryn!" he screamed as his body prepared to surge to its release.

"Yes..." she cried, her head thrown back as the current of passion overtook her and her rocking movement on him brought her closer and closer to exploding. His hands were on her hips, and every downward thrust she gave, he helped steadying as she cried his name with every move. He pushed into her, his penis finding the slick, hot sheath a haven he didn't want to leave.

But they were close to the eye of the storm, each gasping with mouths wide open, eyes closed in dazed expectancy of release. With one final thrust, Chakotay spilled hotly, gloriously, and in long, agonising spurts into her. Their cries were long and pained and pleasured as it mingled with their tears. Bodies tightened, muscles screamed for release as they lifted of the bed, he wanting to be deep, deep into her, she wanting to have him deeper that he could happen to be, in her.

They collapsed in a heap on the bed, with Kathryn's tears spilling on to his chest, his tears rolling hotly down his cheeks.

His arms covered her slender body, cradling her to him so lovingly, protectively, that she sobbed against him.

"Shhh...my love," he crooned as his hand smoothed her hair, stroking and stroking for long moments until they drifted finally down in long, sensuous spirals that caused occasional twitches of pleasure.

He was still in her, and the release both experienced from their climax only short-lived as he felt himself hardening again.

"Chakotay...?"

"Yes, sweet Kathryn, I'm hungry for you - hungry as I've never been..." he said softly as he cupped her face and looked deeply into her eyes.

He raised himself carefully, bringing her up with him, so that she sat on his lap, and he was still deep in her. His hands rested on the satiny nightie, sliding it up her thighs and all the time his eyes never left hers as they waited for the first sign that she might have that trapped look again.

Slowly, his hands traversed up, bringing the nightie with them, and when he reached her waist, he stopped and waited.

"Yes..."

"I want to look at you, Kathryn," he pleaded softly.

She answered by leaning into him to brush a kiss lightly against his lips. Her eyes smouldered, the answer there leaving him no doubt what she wanted.

He removed the garment slowly, enjoying the feel and release as she raised her arms so that he could pull it over her head.

Chakotay thought in those moments he stared at his wife, with her breasts full, firm and creamy, the nipples pert in the darkened aureoles, that he would never experience quite the same exhilaration again. She was astoundingly beautiful. With a soft sigh he buried his face in her bosom and for a few moments gave dry, wracking sobs before he looked at her again and said:

"You are the most beautiful woman, Kathryn," and when she said "take me, Chakotay," he gave an exultant cry of pleasure before his mouth latched on to one nipple.

"Yes..." came her joyous whisper as she threw her head back...

************

Chakotay opened his eyes in the early morning to the distinct knowledge that his life had changed forever. Several things established themselves in his mind almost at once.

The first thing was experiencing the very pleasurable sensation that a new dimension filled his life. It lifted him, and lowered him gently so that his heart and mind and soul and his body conspired for once in years to connect in a chain of peace.

He lay staring at the ceiling and for several seconds the feeling he experienced was somewhat disconnected and he was unable to put a name or a face to it, or at least, he didn't know quite what it was that gave rise to the complete peace that had settled in his heart.

He took his gaze away from that spot on the ceiling and looked around him, looking somewhat surprised that the covers were more rumpled that they normally were. He was not a man who normally thrashed around in bed. He turned his face into the pillow and smelled the fragrance of apples. Didn't Kathryn...?

"Kathryn..." he breathed her name so softly, only to himself, really, as the reason for the unbelievable sense of deep peace established itself in his mind. He slumped back again, lying on his back, stared at that spot on the ceiling again.

"Kathryn..." he murmured her name softly.

They made love for the first time last night, was the second thing that settled in his heart, a thought that caused him to blink back the moistness he felt again, like he did so many times during the night.

The third sensation was the fact that Kathryn was not in his bed. For a moment he wondered where she was, and when he heard a closet door closing somewhere, he knew she was in her own bedroom.

He got up slowly, his movements unhurried as the first rays of the morning sun streamed through the window, and gently touched him. Not finding his robe as he reached for the hook behind the door, he walked to his own wardrobe and pulled out an old T-shirt from a drawer. He pulled on his shorts, ran his hands through his hair and proceeded to Kathryn's room.

He was not prepared for what he saw. She could have been in bed, reading, or sleeping, or in the shower. Instead, she was sitting on the floor, with two large open boxes next to her. And she was wearing his robe. He smiled.

She held a tiny pink garment in her hands, fingering the softness of the fabric, then she brought it closer to smell it.

"It still smells of her," Kathryn said softly, reflectively. She hadn't looked up, knew he was standing in the doorway of her room.

"You feel close to her, even now...?"

"Yes," came her reply as her hand dipped into the box and a white, hand-made baby shawl came out. Patterns of white satin teddy bears adorned the soft woolen fabric, and her hands brushed caressingly over the cuddly-looking bears.

Chakotay stepped forward and joined her on the floor. She sidled closer to him, so that her head rested against his shoulder. He smelled the apples in her hair again and closed his eyes for a second.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that she held the locket in her hands, the gold chain dangling through her fingers. He pressed his lips to her hair, then watched as she opened the locket.

He did not look at the baby's face, but at his own image that adorned the right side of the locket.

"I loved you for a long time..." she repeated her words of last night. "Even...even..."

"Before this...?" he asked as he took a little sleeper in his hand. He knew how painful it was for both of them, but she was Kathryn, who right now wanted to face her old fears head-on.

"Yes..." she replied. "I was just side-tracked for a while, my love..."

"And now?" A hard hammering against his chest as he pressed his lips against her hair again.

"Now, I'm right where I want to be, Chakotay," she said as she finally turned herself to look at him.

No explanations necessary, no angst to talk about and rake up, no shadows that danced wildly, but respectfully kept their distance. Those things were all there, would always be there. But they were where they belonged.

"Where?" he asked softly as all that she felt for him was in the softness of her gaze.

"On track, here, with you." It was firm, no hesitant utterings this time.

"The fight is not yet over, Kathryn..."

"I know," she replied softly, her palm against his cheek. "But we've won a very important round..."

"Yes..." he said as a tear escaped through his closed eyelids.

"No looking back, Chakotay."

"No looking back," he repeated as he opened his eyes and drew her into her arms.

"I'm by your side, always, beloved."

****************

END

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