BOOK ONE: BEGINNINGS

CHAPTER THREE

Chakotay opened the door to his apartment, and as soon as he crossed the threshold,  practically ripped the tie from his neck. Walking into his bedroom, he cursed under his breath as he stared at his thunderous expression, reflected in the mirror.

He was angry. Angry that so many things he’d done tonight hadn't been planned. Certainly he’d planned to take a beautiful woman to the Command Performance for the President of the Federation. That illustrious gentleman and his wife had occupied the first bay of the concert hall, but Chakotay  paid little attention to the dignitaries who were present. Truth was he hadn't even heard Harry Kim play. Truth was, Harry Kim had played his heart out tonight, but Chakotay, who at one time had sworn off women, had not noticed the beautiful notes running like water over river stones.

Allegro…adagio…rondo… He’d heard nothing…

No, he hadn't noticed the concert soloist tonight. He was vaguely aware that he had met Admiral and Mrs Paris, two illustrious personages in their own right. The Admiral had been less aloof than he had remembered him, and Mrs Paris was the perfect companion.

But Kathryn Janeway had taken his breath away, literally. The moment she’d opened her door, he’d sucked in his breath, then struggled afterwards to find it again. He had stared at the vision before him. It didn't help that standing against the light, thrown into relief the silhouette had enhanced her beauty a thousand times over. With a supreme effort he’d managed to keep a straight face, even joke a little. If he were honest with himself, it was the joking that had broken the ice, so to speak.

Chakotay sat on the edge of his bed and rested his head in his hands. No, he thought, he hadn't planned to be tongue-tied in Kathryn Janeway's presence. He hadn't planned to move his head closer to hers in the auditorium because he couldn't keep himself from inhaling her perfume, smelling her hair. Somehow, he had known her hair would smell glorious. He hadn't planned on pressing his hand against her back wherever they walked, at the concert during its interval, or when he took her home. How had his hand stolen there? he wondered. How had he felt unable to pull it away when he knew he should? It didn’t matter that it was good protocol to guide a female companion in that way; it didn't matter that every couple at the concert did exactly the same. Why, Admiral Paris, austere and implacable - he had been a student of the Admiral in his first year - was the very embodiment of courtesy! But then the Admiral and his wife had been married at least thirty years.

He, Chakotay, had only met Kathryn Janeway tonight. Tonight! He’d met her for the first time tonight and all he wanted to do was be in her presence for the rest of his life. She had given him a smile from which he thought his heart would never recover. He shook his head. He felt miserable, yet at the same time exhilalarated with the old thrill of being in a beautiful woman's presence.

He’d kissed her. It was unforgivable - unexpected, spontaneous, unforgivable. Somewhere at the back of his mind he knew that he was about to be ensnared, that he didn't want to free himself. He‘d tasted Kathryn Janeway's lips as they moved under his. He was drunk, waves of ecstasy had coursed through his body and left him reeling. He’d had to stop, stop what was happening, stop what he knew would be another long road to recovery from a woman's clutches. He had a sudden vision of Caroline Meissen the last time he’d seen her: wanton, malicious, boastful of her conquests, crude and uncouth.

But Kathryn Janeway was clearly not Caroline Meissen. Kathryn was refined, a lady, mysterious, enigmatic, her smile hiding her total allure, yet revealing and inviting him to drown with her somewhere in the Aegean Sea where he knew it was folly to fly too high to the sun. Kathryn had melted in his arms and had given an involuntary groan of pure pleasure as he realised she wanted him to kiss her, that she was not averse to discovering delight in a kiss with him. She had been soft, warm, and when he pulled her closer, he’d wanted to die when her hands gripped his shoulders, and she’d pressed into him. Hadn’t she felt how aroused he’d been? How aroused he was?

What was happening to him? Kathryn was a total surprise, a most pleasant one. No, it was not just her looks - she was incredibly beautiful - but something innate that he sensed in her. It was a goodness, a quality of inner strength that abhorred crudities, an inability to hurt anyone wilfully.

Exhausted, Chakotay got up and swiftly stripped. Minutes later he was in the bathroom, standing under an ice-cold shower. He gasped in shock as the cold water hit him and only gradually his body acclimatised to the cold.

Damn Sergei!

"Sergei, you knew, didn't you?" he muttered as the water ran freely over his face, down his chest, down his back. Chakotay remained standing, allowing the coldness to bite into his skin and desensitise him, make him lose all feeling. He didn't want to think, yet Kathryn's image kept impinging on his brain, her face altering to look exactly like the figure he had painted only two days ago. How had he known so instinctively that his painting would be Kathryn, or that Kathryn would be the woman in his painting? Was it the thought that he'd be taking a woman on a date - a blind date at that - that which encroached on his conscious, so that  when he did his first sand painting in years, it had been a manifestation of his chaotic thoughts about a mystery woman? They both exuded hidden strengths, fey beauties, an untouchability that made the desire to touch a paramount urge.

Later Chakotay walked into his small office and sat down at his vidcom. He had known Admiral Janeway vaguely. When Kathryn's face appeared on the screen, his heart burned again at the sight of her. She had a smile on her face, the same one he had seen this evening. Tonight he had seen her at her most beautiful, and even though he had no frame of reference he knew intuitively she could never appear more lovely than she had this night. Now, in the picture on the screen, she was dressed in command red.

"First officer of the USS Crimond," he read. He remembered Andreas Buccholtz, the commanding officer of that vessel. A rising star in Starfleet, Buccholtz was heading for the Admiralty. They had been at the Academy at the same time, although Andreas was almost four years older. 

Chakotay's heart sank. Kathryn Janeway was not for him. He didn't want to get involved again. He didn't want to lose his heart again only to have it trampled on by beautiful woman. What the hell was he thinking? Wasn't tonight over?

Over! Over!

Face it, Chakotay. The night is finished. You did what you had to do, and then more. You awarded yourself the right to kiss the woman for an evening well spent. In another lifetime you would have wanted the evening to end in sex. Yeah, right. Sex. But tonight was not to be. Kathryn Janeway was pedigreed, too refined to be bedded on a first date, too refined for anyone she didn't...love. Yeah, that's it. You can bet yourself she had never done that. But spirits! She tasted like sweet nectar, drugging your senses, making you want to believe that there might be such honourable characteristics as constancy and fidelity after all.

Chakotay closed his eyes. A wave of pain hit him in his chest as he remembered her taste... He'd never forget how she’d tasted, never forget how she’d melted in his arms, never forget how he found it impossible not to give in to the desire to kiss...kiss...kiss... 

But it was over. He only had to take her out, take her home, and it was done.

Chakotay closed the vidcom again and sighed deeply. Tonight, he knew, sleep was a commodity that would be in short supply.

*** 

"So, how did the evening go, Kath?" Dalene asked. She had given Kathryn an early morning call, too early for any sane person to be up. Kathryn stared bleary eyed at the screen of her vidcom. How on earth could Dalene look so sprightly at 6am? She was based at  Starfleet headquarters, serving as aide to Admiral Gordon. "It figured," she answered her own question, "the old fogey never slept." 

"As well as could be expected, Day," she replied, running her fingers through her hair. She was still tired, hadn't slept much since Chakotay brought her home, although she wasn’t going to tell Dalene that.

"Looks like you haven't slept much since you got home, honey." Dalene gave a naughty wink. "Am I thinking along the right track?"

"More like your mind is in the sewer; join the rats on their early morning swim - "

"Then you kissed."

Kathryn's palms cupped her cheeks involuntarily. She knew she was blushing. Dalene smirked as she saw Kathryn's flush.

"He kissed you! That's great! Wonderful!"

"It's over, Dalene. He took me to the Command Performance - "

" - and then he gave you a command performance. Ooh…I'm drooling here, Kath. The man's a dream…"

She wasn't going to ask how Dalene knew that.

"Dalene! It was nothing. A peck on the cheek, that's all."

"And a peck on the cheek makes Kathryn Janeway look like she's not slept in days, gives her whole face  a healthy, reddish glow and makes her eyes sparkle. Go figure, Janeway. You've lost it."

Kathryn sighed resignedly.

"Okay, he kissed me."

"You played tonsil-hockey?"

Kathryn rolled her eyes. She had to smile at Dalene's apt description of an outsider's view of Chakotay's kiss.

"Dalene, please. I'm still tired. I have to leave on a shuttle for Deep Space Nine. One of the Crimond's shuttles I might add. Captain Buccholtz gave me kind permission - "

"Buccholtz? Andreas Buccholtz?"

Why was Dalene pretending to be so surprised? She knew the names of the captains of most Federation vessels. She knew Andreas Buccholtz. There was another man who was a dream and Dalene Petranoff was too aware of that. Was she thinking that Kathryn would whisper her of some juicy information about the man? Kathryn didn't miss the sudden flash of eagerness in her friend's eyes...and the flush….

"Ah, now there's one man who is impervious to Dalene Petranoff's charm…"

"I like him," Dalene declared. "Don't worry, he'll come round. Now, about Chakotay - "

"What about Chakotay?"

"Chakotay is still here in San Francisco for a month, Kath - " Dalene offered, homing in on the wistful sound Kathryn had been unable to keep from her voice. "He'll leave for deep space after that. You know he's First Officer of the Ormskirk - "

"Your brother's vessel."

"Yes. Chakotay's friend Sergei is the Chief Medical Officer…"

"Ah, the one who put him up to this…"

"Kathryn…"

"What is it, Dalene?"

"You've fallen for him," she said, her voice filled with awe. "You've fallen for Chakotay…"

Kathryn wanted to laugh it away, dismiss it as Dalene having fun at her expense. But she had been thinking all night of Chakotay. This morning just before her vidcom beeped, she had finally drifted into restless sleep, with the resolve that she should forget about a Native American called Chakotay. Yes, she had gotten up in the middle of the night and researched his file in the Federation database. She had a level 4 clearance, as she was certain Chakotay had. His photograph in the database had not done the handsome man any justice. The Chakotay whose hand she could still feel burning into her back, was alive; although he spoke little, and was a trifle withdrawn, he had an animated look about him. He could be still and yet, he had given the impression of swift movement, like an eagle poised for flight…. God…

"Kathryn…?"

"I'm alright, Day. I - I need time, you understand?"  Kathryn was gratified to see Dalene nod.

"They'll be away for six months, Kath," Dalene said softly, as if through her revelation she hoped that Kathryn might want to make some overture. Kathryn knew that Dalene was worried that she'd reach her forties without a man. She had Mark, didn't she? Dear, sweet Mark…

"I know, Dalene…" she replied, knowing her admission would let Dalene know she'd been checking up on Chakotay.

"Contact him, Kathryn. I'm sure he'd like to meet with you again. That kiss was something, huh…" How did Dalene know? Kathryn wondered constantly at her homing instinct.

"I'll not say, Dalene. He must think I'm in need - "

"We'll, you connected last night, Katie," Dalene said, using the endearment of their childhood days. "I can see that in your face. I didn't see you together - I'd love to, you know that - but I can see he's affected you. That alone deserves to be explored, don't you think?"

Kathryn knew Dalene was speaking the truth, but she had not been there when Justin died. She had not been in Indiana when Kathryn had lain in her darkened room pining away, plunged into deep depression. She had not been there.

"I can't walk that road again, Day. I'm sorry. Please, I have to get ready to meet Admiral Paris later today. I'll see you for lunch. But just…don't ask, will you…?"

Dalene's eyes softened at the entreaty in Kathryn's voice.

"I'll see you this afternoon then, Katie. And - and if I'm unable to make it, good luck then on your mission to Bajor…"

"Thanks, Day. Take care…"

Dalene Petranoff closed communication and for a few minutes Kathryn sat staring at the Federation insignia, her hand idly caressing her cheek. She closed her eyes, felt a tear squeeze out and roll hotly down. Chakotay had done something she hadn't thought anyone - any man, she corrected - could do. He had come and opened her again to all manner of emotion, all kinds of impulses that made her vulnerable, that made her feel again. For ten years, she had been dead inside. Ten years was a long time for a woman - for her - to subdue her feelings, close herself off from the  danger of losing her heart again. She didn't want that. Not again. She didn’t want to love again, only to lose it once more. Even if that man were to be Chakotay, he’d unveiled the temple of her heart, thawed the hard layers of ice that she had cultivated with so much care in the last years. She had nowhere to run now. She was as open as she had been ten years earlier but no less able to protect herself.

It was done. She could feel again, and with it came the breathtaking, if terrifying prospect that she wanted to walk that road once more’ instead.

She didn't know if she should curse Chakotay, or thank him.

Perhaps neither, she thought as she rose from her chair, walked to the living room and removed the eagle carefully from the shelf. She took it into her bedroom and placed it on her dresser. Tonight when she left for Deep Space Nine, Grey Eagle would travel with her and then sit proudly on the desk of her office.

***

Sergei Karkoff  watched his friend hoist Anatoly on his shoulders. Chakotay was a tall, big man, tanned and muscular, and could probably swing a loaded barrel of old earth rum across his back with ease. It was why Sergei felt confident that his son was in safe hands. Anatoly had asked first thing this morning:

"Is Uncle Chakotay coming, Daddy?"

"Oh yes, he'll be here this afternoon - "

"And he’ll bring me my present?"

"Naturally. You got Uncle Chakotay's present, peanut?"

"My name's Anatoly, Daddy!"

At six, Anatoly was very precocious. It had not helped that Chakotay, Anatoly’s godfather, spoiled him. No, Sergei thought, not really spoiled the little one. But they shared a birthday and it was always special that they have it together, whenever Chakotay happened to be on Earth. Chakotay loved Anatoly as he would an his own son.

Sergei heard the loud squeals of the child, and minutes later Anatoly was running towards the first of the guests - mostly children from his school - who had arrived.

"You're good with him, Chak," Sergei said reflectively.

"And your next words are going to be: 'you should get married and have children', right?"

Chakotay glared at him, and Sergei felt like banging his friend's head against something, anything hard. It had been a week since his date with Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay hadn't said a word. It was that very fact that cautioned Sergei and the ebullient Svetlana from poking around too much. Chakotay would talk, eventually, but sometimes, Sergei thought, the man needed to be nudged in the ribs to kick-start him. Chakotay had been staying with them the last few days, and tomorrow he'd be on his way. He never said where. Never. Later he'd tell them he'd been in Mexico with Grey Eagle.

He'd tell them he'd go on a date with Kathryn, but Chakotay, the man, who craved the silences both outside and in his heart, was an enigma. He'd wander off and they'd only know he was back a few days before he had to report for duty.

His friend had been affected, there was no doubt about that. Under normal circumstances Sergei would have rejoiced that Chakotay had found in a brief encounter something that would endure if he let it. Dalene had let Svetlana know that Kathryn left the very next day to report for duty at Deep Space Nine, to leave on the Crimond for Bajor for an undisclosed period. He knew what that meant. The mission was covert, and Kathryn as first officer was duty bound to keep her movements as unobtrusive as possible. Still, it meant that any contact, if not through subspace communication, would be out of the question for at least two months.

Six months…that is how long he and Chakotay would be in deep space on the Ormskirk. When would Chakotay and Kathryn ever meet again, if that could happen?

"Hey, you dreaming, Sergei?"

"No. I was thinking we'll be off in about a month into deep space for a half year. I'll not see Svetlana and Anatoly for that time, and…"  Sergei paused, unable to put into words what he wanted to say next, but Chakotay took it out of his mouth.

"You think -  is there anyone I'll be coming home to?"

If Chakotay hadn't had that deep, dark look of pain in his eyes, he would have joked, like they always had in the past. Suddenly the rules of the game have had changed. He was treading on uneasy ground, the dance an uneasy dance of the flamingos when they sensed danger, which he had seen once on the marshes of the Serengeti. Sergei sighed. That was what he was going to say; Kathryn was what he wanted the conversation to lead to.

"What is there you're not telling me, Chak?" he asked quietly. He knew his friend. Chakotay had been preoccupied for some time, although to look at him, he couldn’t tell what it was.

"I kissed her, Sergei."

A slow smile spread across Sergei's face, a smile that held kindness, understanding. Chakotay had not mentioned anything about sleeping with Kathryn Janeway and it hit Sergei like a hammer: he hadn’t. It spoke volumes when Chakotay said he’d kissed Kathryn. Volumes...

"It affected you."

"Yes."

"And you don't want her to be another Caroline…" Sergei said with some insight.

"I don't think she could be, Sergei. She is not Caroline, never. There is too much that is honest about her."

"But?"

"I think she hurts still."

"As you are, my friend."

"I - I don't know her past. I didn't want to be that intrusive, you know. But I could sense there had been a man. For a moment Kathryn had looked like a doe facing a predator, the fear acceptance blending together, flitting through its eyes. Kathryn looked like that, Sergei. I don't mind telling you. You're my friend." 

Chakotay looked pensive for a long time. In the background the noise of the children faded. Svetlana had everything under control. She had given Sergei a nod of approval and then regimented her little squadron of six years olds.

"Yet you couldn't stop yourself..."

"I've never felt so badly and so good about what happened, Sergei. It was…I don't know…wrong to be presumptuous, to kiss her. I wanted to, very badly. It - it was inevitable." Chakotay was silent for a moment, then gave a crooked smile. "And then it was good. It - I think I need time to assimilate it all. I've met her; she's beautiful. Did I mention that?"

"No, I did. More than a week ago, before the concert."

Both men smiled. Sergei didn't want to tell Chakotay how his eyes lit up, or how there was a lightness in his voice. If they were to believe Dalene, then Kathryn Janeway also  hadn’t come away from her date untouched. Chakotay was falling in love, and while the denial was a verbal protestation to the contrary, the evidence was there in Chakotay's eyes, in his mien, his voice, the way in which his fingers trembled while he spoke of Kathryn Janeway. Chakotay had no idea how much he gave away. He had not looked like that since Caroline. No, Sergei decided, not even Caroline had been able to put that look there, and that was the defining difference.

"Well, I did feel very proud, you know. I took the most beautiful woman to the concert. We were…feted. I didn't feel as out of place as I thought I would and - "  Was Chakotay blushing?

"It was her presence. Believe me, Chak, Svetlana has that same effect on me."

They smiled again, watching over the congregation of little children who filled their home, and the wide front porch that was their playground. Sergei knew that Chakotay was not going to give him any more than necessary and he respected his need for introspection. He thought that Chakotay had done enough of that; the man's face appeared closed, but he knew that Kathryn Janeway was on Chakotay's mind probably every minute of the day.  Thinking to change from the serious tone of the conversation, Sergei asked:

"So, what have you given Anatoly this year, Chakotay?"

"What do you think? The kid is going to be the Federation's youngest grandmaster. He already beats you at 3-D chess!"

"I know. I must be a bad Russian, not following the great tradition of grand masters…"

Chakotay laughed.

"Don't worry. When we're on the Ormskirk in a month and traveling in deep space in the Gamma Quadrant, Dr. Karkoff, you can beat me lots of times at chess, while I'll box the snot out of you."

Chakotay threw a few shadow punches in Sergei's direction. Sergei fielded them, saying:

"When we're on the Ormskirk, you're going to contact her, Chakotay. You can't leave it like that."  He was gratified to see the assent in Chakotay's eyes. At least he was considering it. A month ago he would have thrown his friend against a wall.

***** 

Kathryn Janeway sat in her office just off the lounge of her quarters on the Crimond. They were returning from Deep Space Nine and heading towards Earth. Just a few days reprieve and the Crimond would be off again, to Aldoran IV, one of the planets on the perimeter of Federation Space. She was tired, the journey through the wormhole had gone smoothly but all hands had remained at red alert for the duration of their journey. Their stopover at Deep Space Nine was brief, since the Crimond was due for maintenance at McKinley station.

Her communication with Mark had left her a little dejected. He was already back home; usually, on those occasions when he contacted her while she was away, she looked forward to his conversation. Tonight he had sounded so...prosaic. She sighed. It wasn't fair to him. She loved him as a brother, and valued their friendship, but that was about the most enduring thing she could say about him.

Naturally, he’d asked about the concert.

"You went, after all?"  He sounded a little incredulous. "Alone?"

"Mark, I didn't go alone..." She paused, and that set him up again.

"You went with Dalene Petranoff?"

It was such a typical sentiment coming from Mark, but she had really been in no mood to tease him in his assumption that if he couldn't take her, no other man could…or should… Kathryn sighed. How could she tell Mark in a nice, safe and diplomatic way that she’d had a blind date? He was such an intellectual; something as common and as off-beat as a blind date would never strike him as something Kathryn Janeway would do. His mind was too elevated to comprehend that men and women could be impulsive. In that respect, Mark was predictable. He wanted no surprises and he gave none.

Yes, how could she tell him?

"No, I didn't go with her, but she introduced me to her brother's first officer who was - who was kind enough to offer to accompany me."

Oh, why did she falter?

Mark pounced.

"Do I know him?"

She had sighed again.

"No, you don't, Mark. We must have crossed paths during our Academy days…"

"Well, Kathryn, it seems you enjoyed the evening…"

Mark was not a philosopher-negotiator for nothing. Why would he assume just because she went with another man, she wouldn't enjoy an evening out with him? She had shaken her head. She was being unduly harsh with Mark, she knew. He cared for her a great deal, and was naturally worried that she not have a dismal evening.

She had given Mark her best smile, one she hoped could mask the turmoil she was experiencing, that she hoped would come across as just normal, detached interest, if there ever could be such a thing.

"I did, Mark."

"I'll make sure I'll be there for your next outing, Kath…So tell me about your date? What was he like?"

Did he sound suddenly jealous? Why did it seem as if he were protecting and marking his territory?

"Chakotay was an excellent companion, Mark."

"And handsome…"

"That…too… Mark, if you don't mind, I am tired. We'll talk when I return to San Francisco, okay? We have some major debriefing after which I'll have some time free before I leave on my next mission."

Mark had given an exaggerated sigh, but was contrite when she had stifled a yawn. Seconds later he‘d closed communication and she sat staring at the Federation insignia. She was still staring at it, wondering how on earth she could get a dark-haired, dark-eyed, dimpled man's image out of her mind. Since their evening together she had been toying with the thought of seeing him again. She wondered idly whether Chakotay thought about her too. He had been on her mind in all her quiet moments, whether she was sitting here, in her office, or in the holodeck, or relaxing in the observation lounge in her favourite corner. She had done so much of that in the last two months, that she'd been viewed as reclusive. She couldn't help it. She had never reacted like this to any other person, someone who dominated every aspect of her life, and that after one evening together. There had been no intimacies like sex on a first date, no long discussion over coffee or a glass of wine. Just a goodbye kiss.

A smile, a face that flickered unaccountably with remembered pain from somewhere, and Chakotay was gone.

She didn't want him to be gone.

She wanted…

She wanted to see him again...

How had it happened? Her fingers had curled protectively around the little eagle that perched on her desk. She caressed its wings, smooth and gleaming and a head that stared at her with unafraid eyes.

"What are you telling me, Grey Eagle…?"

She gazed at the face, the strong beak, direct gaze, its breast proudly jutting forward. Did it nod to her? To what did it nod? she wondered. Did she want the little eagle to affirm her intent?

There was a sudden burst of light behind her eyelids; in seconds she was transported to a brilliant blue cloudless sky, with Grey Eagle soaring up…up…up…its destination unknown...  It swooped and dipped in circles, then took off with great assurance as if it had found its destination, to start a new journey...the thrill of arrival…

"I know what I must do..." she whispered.

Her hand touched the controls, found the correct bearings, co-ordinates, her voice bearing no trace of hesitation as she said:

"Computer, open subspace communication with the USS Ormskirk, Gamma Quadrant.."

The lights flickered as it complied, waiting for the next command.

No hesitation.

She knew where she was going.

"Private message direct to Commander Chakotay."

**** 

END CHAPTER THREE

Chapter 4 

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