Now, Voyager

by

 

vanhunks

 

"The untold want, by life and land ne'er granted,

Now, Voyager, sail thou forth to seek and find."

 

                                    -Walt Whitman

 

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters Janeway and Chakotay and Paris. I think Columbia owns the rights to the movie, "Now, Voyager".

 

Summary: A very short mood piece in which Chakotay talks to Kathryn about an old 20th century movie. Set somewhere in season seven. Where? In Kathryn's quarters, naturally.

 

 

NOW, VOYAGER

 

He could never stop looking at her. It wasn't so much her flaming hair, or her petit form, the way her hands swung by her sides when she walked, or the gentle curve of her mouth that tugged upwards when she humoured a young crewman. Or, when they were in their command chairs and her hand would steal to his whenever she became excited. Of that too, he was always aware. How could he not be? She crept into his heart and staked a claim so deep he was afraid that he might hurt her. He never wanted to, never, even in a little argument, wanted to see her eyes darken with sadness. Yet, intrinsically, he knew that sadness was as much a part of her person as all her other emotions, all her other traits. He had seen her sad many times; he had seen her melancholic; he had seen her merciless as she ran down men like Ransom, Kashyk...

 

Now, they were in her quarters, like perhaps a thousand times before. Yet now the ambience was a silence that was marked in heartbeats and the soft clinking of a fork against a plate, the restfulness in the way Kathryn moved.  His eyes were riveted to the way she lifted her fork to her mouth and clamped rosy lips around the crouton balanced on its tines. How many times had he seen her do that? He knew with certainty that those occasions it had been with the deeply buried feelings he had for her, and that looking at Kathryn day after day had become an essay in self-control, the ability to make looking at her the look of only cursory interest, of detachment,  like the colleagues they were, like the friends they were and not like now, like the lovers they were. Those times he could tease her about her new hairstyle, banter lightly about her looks, even flirt. 

 

Now...

 

Chakotay's heart gave a an extra beat. Would he ever stop pinching himself? Would he ever become used to this new Kathryn?

 

There was no reserve about her, only a pure confidence and absolute surety that she was cherished, and that in her giving and sharing she could make herself vulnerable and know that he could never ever betray that trust. That had been a part of her fears. Something twisted inside him, a curl of pure pleasure as Kathryn closed slender fingers a round the stem of her flute. Kathryn paused mid-air; she gazed him and his heart burned at the way her eyes became soft.

 

"Will you stop looking at me, Chakotay?" she asked him, her mouth curving again into that half smile that made him think of the mystique of La Giaconda, or the beautiful Danaë in her tower of gold. He couldn't help smiling, nor could he stop the words gushing from him.

 

"Never. Almost never. Only when I'm on the bridge; even then I want to steal a glance at you. Did you know your eyes light up then? Or in the ready room when you hold a PADD in your hand. Or, when you're sleeping. No, when you're sleeping and I'm awake, I can't help myself. I - "

 

"You're blabbering, you know. Chakotay...my warrior, robbed of eloquence..." 

 

"I wasn't eloquent?" he cut in, feeling the pleasure twist and curl inside him like old Catherine wheels. In truth, she did create fireworks inside him the way she teased, now... 

 

Kathryn cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. His heart did a double backward flip and he wanted to drown in the liquid golden wine, or vanish into the blue-grey depths of her eyes. Preferably vanish into her eyes and drift on all the oceans and nebulas contained there.

 

"No, you're just Chakotay. Oh, I warrant, a little breathless right now, and gushing and more than articulate than normal, but..." Kathryn's voice lowered a register, became soft and mellow and husky. 

 

"Then I must blame you. You're very beautiful, flirty, sassy, smart, tough, uncompromising, very, very sexy -"

 

"Now you're talking," she purred. 

 

" -  and beautiful - "

 

"You said that."

 

"I did?" 

 

"Yes..."

 

"See what you do to me?"

 

"I know..." she replied and closed rosy lips around another crouton. 

 

Something exploded and sprayed bright and colourful behind his eyes. Chakotay gave a sheepish grin, and felt unaccountably a little embarrassed. He gave a little cough and Kathryn smiled at him. Again it felt to him as if his heart did a double flip. She took another sip of her wine. Her movement was unhurried, elegant, sweetly sensual; she knew the effect she had on him and it sent him crazy with want and rendered him speechless most of the time. He coughed again, then continued to study the golden liquid in his glass, inhale its bouquet. When he looked at her after several minutes, he felt more in control and this time he didn't feel the awful sense of breathlessness of the knowledge that she loved him. She loved him back, like he loved her with a consuming passion.

 

"You are beautiful, Kathryn. Especially when you've just been in the shower and your hair is all dripping and shiny from the water, and your lips are parted, with little droplets of water like jewels... Like a nymph that just emerged from a steamy pool."

 

"Jewels... Nymphs in steamy pools...that's new," she murmured through half closed eyes.

 

"Or Venus arising from the sea in her shell...naked..."

 

"Chakotay..."

 

"Hmmm?"

 

"Will you stop it? You're making me uncomfortable," Kathryn said as she lowered her glass and gave a little sigh.

 

He couldn't imagine Kathryn ever being uncomfortable. She was serene; here with him, she was untroubled by the woes of her vessel. The confidence she exuded when in command was different in the privacy of her quarters. It was a confidence in her charisma, her sensuality, becoming wholly comfortable with a Kathryn no one has seen. Except him. He was seeing the Kathryn always hidden from view, a Kathryn who could finally trust herself to show the woman, allow herself to feel, to weep, to love...

"It's just that - that I've never seen you so at peace," he replied. "I always thought you'd never..." He was suddenly at a loss, not certain how to say it, fearing that he might offend her.

 

"What, Chakotay?" she encouraged softly.

 

This time it was Chakotay who sighed. For almost seven Kathryn had been so rigid, so cold inside that no one thought Kathryn Janeway would ever thaw and reveal the woman inside her. Her own needs had been buried so deeply that they almost vanished in the face of her mission; she had been unyielding, never giving in to the simple pleasures everyone on board indulged in to relieve them of the daily burden of sailing...sailing...never finding a harbour they could call home. Once before, very, very early on, maybe in their first year, she had been sometimes playful, showing that she could mix with the crew and even join them playing pool, have an evening out in Sandrine's with the crew. Those early years...they played Velocity so many times...

 

Then things changed. The longer they stayed out here, the longer they were lost, trying to find a way home, the more she became aware that the only way to bind the crew and to inject them with the hope that soon they would be home, was to subjugate her person and her own needs so completely that she became ruthless and driven. Ruthless and much like Ransom had been. Chakotay sighed. After Ransom, Kathryn was not the same... 

Yes, she had driven them and driven herself harder than anyone else on board. She got the names to prove it. "Ice Maiden", "Miss Fridgidaire", "Cold Comfort", "Iron Lady", and some more colourful, derogatory terms. Though, he could swear, it was never meant in a harsh light. The crew loved her, but most of the time they wished she could unwind, be a little more approachable. Most of the time he tried to get her to unwind. 

 

The more she became aware of her mission, and the harder those adversities were to overcome, the harder the shell became that she wrapped herself in. Mostly, she just wanted to protect her heart, he believed. She had been hurt before, and was afraid to take another leap of faith. 

 

And, oh, the needs she had. They were plentiful, heart-breaking. How many times did she seek refuge in the holodeck to centre herself again after ensuring that everyone else remained happy and satisfied? How many times did she come to his quarters just so that she could throw herself against him and cry her heart out? How many times did he exert so much control to prevent his declarations of love scaring her away? 

 

They were on a vessel, sailing...sailing... He thought of an old  movie Tom told him to watch. Did Tom know then? 

 

Chakotay gave a sigh.

 

"You remind me of Bette Davis," he said, his words coming out of the blue and seemingly unrelated.

 

"Another one of your old flames?"

 

Almost, he thought he heard a tinge of regret, even bitterness in her voice. He could no more eradicate his old alliances than Kathryn could deny Mark and Justin's existence in her life. Even Michael...

 

"I wish," he said quietly, and her features sobered from the sadness that wanted to crash through the regret.

 

"Who was she? An actress?"

 

"Early to mid-20th century," he replied, downing the last of his wine in one gulp, and placing his flute down carefully on the table. "I watched an old movie - " 

 

"Courtesy Tom Paris, naturally."

 

"Naturally."

 

How did the ambience change so subtly? Chakotay paused, not really certain that Kathryn was interested. He sighed. "Forget it, Kathryn..."

 

Kathryn put her glass down.

 

"I'm interested, Chakotay. It's just that it's new for me too, to be looking at my First Officer as someone I can't live without. It's a great leap, if you must know. I'm learning so many things new about you, so many things I didn't really think formed part of what enriched your life." 

 

"Not even New Earth?"

 

"Not even there, Chakotay," Kathryn sighed. "There, we played house, we...pretended. I - I'm sorry...so sorry..." 

 

"Don't ever be. You're right. You could never let go completely."

 

Kathryn reached forward and touched his hand. "And, it's exciting, re discovering you...establishing old territory as wholly mine now... I'm selfish..."

 

He couldn't help but smile at her words. He wanted to tell her that he could spend his whole life discovering her, too. But the wish of a moment ago swelled above that thought. This Kathryn who suppressed what had always been in her for so long, was relaxed, open and generous and not afraid to express it.

 

"Bette Davis played the lead in a film called "Now, Voyager", he said quietly. Kathryn's eyes widened at the mention of the film title.

 

"Does it have anything to do with the Whitman poem?"

 

Chakotay pondered on her words then nodded.

 

"Yes... actually. The character, Charlotte Vale, was a very repressed woman in her early forties, and  wasn't allowed to express her needs - "

 

"The untold want," Kathryn started the words of the short poem.

 

And Chakotay joined in:

 

" by life and land ne'er granted,

Now, Voyager, sail thou forth to seek and find."

 

Kathryn didn't show any surprise that he knew the words. He had gone through the database, found Walt Whitman and started reading. Kathryn loved poetry, and the way her eyes darkened, he knew she understood the import of the words.

 

"Yes," Chakotay replied, smiling at Kathryn. "That's exactly it. Charlotte's mother dominated her to the point of killing her personality and Charlotte complied for years - "

 

"Surely, there must have been a time that Charlotte did have those needs - "

 

"She...always had them, Kathryn. Very early in her life, and that's the crux of the movie, I suppose. Charlotte did have a frame of reference for living her life to the fullest...."

 

"And you think I'm Charlotte..." Kathryn said intuitively, "and I was letting my ship - "

 

"Did you know that sailing ships formed a large part of the theme of the movie?" he cut in, not wanting her to lapse into self-recriminations. But he knew what she was going to say. Out here, instead of becoming liberated  by her ship, the opposite happened. "Those times that Charlotte came alive, was when she embarked on long cruises." Chakotay lifted his empty glass and stared pensively at it.

 

"Voyager..."

 

"Yes," he replied, his eyes meeting hers. Kathryn nodded, but this time there was no regret in her eyes, or guilt or bitterness. Just a simple acceptance, affirmation of what could never be changed. Kathryn was moving on, sailing...sailing... 

 

"And there was someone who brought her out of her shell?" she asked. " Someone with whom she fell in love?"

 

He could tell Kathryn that Charlotte never got her man, for he was married. He could her Kathryn that Charlotte's love for her man was reciprocated, even though they could never make a life together. He could tell Kathryn Charlotte raised the man's daughter because it was something that brought her closer to the man she loved. He could tell her that that alone, was enough for Charlotte: just being close to him, for it meant more to Charlotte that anything. With him and Kathryn...it was not so much different. . 

 

He could tell Kathryn that being close to her, just the knowledge that she loved him and wasn't afraid to express it, meant more to him than anything. 

 

"Aye, Kathryn. Charlotte fell in love, and she became confident, buoyant, vivacious, sexy, smart, alluring, beautiful - "

 

Kathryn gave him a beautiful smile.

 

"I think you said that, Chakotay. So...sailing ships...a metaphor for freedom..." she said musingly.

 

"Yes. Voyager. I think you found your heart, Kathryn. It's not just the armour that guides us home, but the heart too. They work together. I'm glad you - you found it, Kathryn."

 

"I never lost it, Chakotay."

 

"No, I guess not. But you never spoke about your needs, did you, Kathryn?"

 

"It's different now."

 

"Aye," he sighed, "I know..."

 

"So why are you so...melancholic tonight?"

 

"I should pinch myself."

 

"Chakotay! Believe it, will you? I'm more at peace with myself now than I have been before, thanks to you. I just never...listened before, did I?" 

 

Chakotay gave a sheepish laugh and shook his head. 

 

"Guess who needs cheering up tonight," he said.

 

Kathryn reached to touch his hand. Chakotay felt the surge of air leaving him breathless again. He blinked, still not fully able to take in everything Kathryn offered. He waited so long...so long... Did a sob escape him? he wondered. Then Kathryn's voice drifted to him, soft, mellow, confident and loving. 

 

"I'll make you a deal. We watch "Now, Voyager" together, and - "

 

"And?"

 

The sudden gloom left Chakotay, and he looked at her with so much eagerness that she laughed.

 

"You will know my needs when we're in bed..."

 

***

 

end

 

NOTE: "Now, Voyager" [1942] starred Bette Davis and Paul Henreid, with Claude Rains as the psychiatrist. Both Henreid and Rains were seen with Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman in the all time classic "Casablanca".

 

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