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"How long do I have to wait before you tell me?"
Chakotay looked up from the wood, shaking off the flakes that coated his hands and forearms. Lost in the rhythm of sanding, he hadn't heard her approach. Sekaya looked comfortable enough propped against the door frame, arms crossed in a sisterly manner, and he wondered how long she'd been watching him.
"Tell you what?"
Her black eyes studied him sharply, but he hadn't squirmed under that gaze since he was seven years old. Flipping the wood deftly in one hand, he ran his fingers over it and smiled, satisfied with the smoothness and the gentle curve.
Pushing off from the wall, she roamed lazily through the space, more of a shed than anything, running her hands lightly over the half-finished projects that lined the shelves. Taking a deep breath, she sighed. "I always loved that smell. It reminds me of ahta."
Chakotay nodded. Their father had carved from as far back as he could remember, more artistic than practical in his work. The scent of fresh shavings had a transporting effect, evoking childhood and summer, and safety.
Her fingers explored the lines of a small chest, carved from a piece of wood he'd brought back from the Delta Quadrant. He kept meaning to finish it. His mind refused to entertain the reason he hadn't.
"You fought so viciously." Sekaya's voice had a wistful quality that irritated him.
"Don't blame me for that."
His tone jarred her from her reverie and she crossed the room to stand beside him. "Don't be so prickly," she shot back. "I was only thinking of how hard it was on us all."
Chakotay bowed his head momentarily in silent apology. She shifted to half stand, half sit in front of him, propped against the table he'd been using to brace the wood. Her fingers rested lightly beside her, drawing unconscious swirls in the sawdust.
"I thought you were angry. Since you've come back you've been sullen, distant."
He opened his mouth to object but she raised a hand. "I didn't blame you. You had experiences out there the rest of us can't begin to understand." Her eyes were blacker than coal and they refused to release him. Chakotay looked away nonchalantly.
Sekaya's voice followed him. "Coming home after a long journey is never easy. You have more to face than most. The loss of your friends in the Maquis, the loss of your daily life on Voyager..." She spoke quietly. "You're grieving. I understand that now."
The kindness in her voice brought unexpected tears to his eyes and Chakotay swallowed hard, blinking them back.
"The Maquis," he cleared his throat. "It's harder than I thought it would be, to be home and--"
She nodded, waiting.
"But I don't think I have it any worse than anyone else."
"Maybe not."
Sekaya looked at him thoughtfully. "There's something else."
His focus was back on the wood.
"I thought it had to do with the blonde, but that's not it, is it."
There was no real question there, so he let it go.
She shook her head. "No, I don't think so. This..." Sekaya's hand waved through the air, a lot like-- Chakotay cut off the thought, brutal and efficient, forcing his mind back between the acceptable lines.
"This mood that you're in, you're not passing through it."
Waiting a moment to see if he'd pick up on what she was saying, she lifted her fingers to her lips and blew the wood bits off them, like they had when they were children. He wondered vaguely if she'd made a wish.
"I didn't realise there was a time line."
"No time line, little brother." Her voice was mild, coaxing and it pulled him out of himself in spite of his best efforts. As it always had.
Chakotay sighed in frustration. "I can't fix what's wrong. I--" He was surprised when the words caught in his throat.
"It's your friend, Kathryn?"
He couldn't even find it within himself to be surprised that his sister knew. His friend. Could he even call Kathryn that anymore? Out of nowhere the urge to unburden himself was overwhelming and he spoke.
“I destroyed it.” The wrench of his heart was a physical thing.
"So certain of that, are you?"
"Yes." Certain, and ashamed, and very tired.
Tilting her head brought the thick braid sliding over her shoulder. "There was something between you. I watched you at the reception."
Shaking his head, Chakotay thought back to the celebration they'd attended once the debriefings were finally finished. "No. There was nothing."
"Hmm." Shifting off the table, Sekaya resumed her stroll around the room, this time to the shelves behind him. He didn't need to turn to know she was examining the pieces with the same focus she'd given him.
"This nothing, it's not over."
He heard her pick something up. "You need to bring her here."
Chakotay's head shot up and he spun around. "Have you lost your mind?" he snapped.
Sekaya's eyes glittered with amusement. "Ooo, now there's the reaction we've been looking for these long, quiet weeks."
She approached him again, this time tousling his hair with affection. "You don't frighten me, angry bear. You're only fighting yourself, after all." Wrapping her arm around his shoulders, she bent to kiss the top of his head.
Closing his eyes, he leaned against her and soaked in the first comfort he'd felt since he beamed off Voyager for the last time.
"You're miserable."
He nodded.
"You need to bring her here."
Chakotay nodded again, without opening his eyes. "I know."
***********
Her stomach was twisted in the kind of knot she associated with fighting Kazon or desperately chasing the scent of deuterium.
Which was unusual. Since returning to the Alpha Quadrant, Kathryn was on friendlier terms with her stomach than she'd been in years. No more skipping meals, or forcing down a cup of vegetable bouillon past the tightness. Instead she'd found to her surprise that she was hungry; intensely, insatiably hungry.
The Doctor, in typical patronising manner, had said he was relieved to know her body was finally fighting back against the neglect. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was more that she suddenly had time to notice what she needed.
Either way, there'd been enough food to round out some of the sharp edges, helping her transition from Captain Janeway back to the Kathryn that her friends and family knew and loved.
"Ten minutes, ma'am."
Kathryn smiled and nodded at the pilot. She'd known they were getting close, there'd been a shift in the engines.
"It's a beautiful planet," she murmured, and he grunted in agreement. She'd spent most of the last leg of her trip staring out the window of the cargo shuttle. They'd passed over a huge expanse of turquoise water and were now zipping over plains that reminded her of Indiana.
Kathryn suspected the pilot was showing off a little for her; his announcement was tinged with a hint of swagger. It was funny; normally when people sought her approval it had more to do with her rank than anything else. In civilian clothes it was something else altogether.
Something not unpleasant.
The touchdown was smooth and easy. No one would be there; Chakotay was at a community meeting. That was fine. The fresh air and the walk to his home might soothe the butterflies in her rebellious midsection. No matter how she tried to tell herself that anything was better than the way things were now, they would not be appeased.
Something in Kathryn had always refused a lie. It mattered, what happened here.
Digging through her bag for the jacket Chakotay had suggested, she made her way through the open door. A soft floral scent in the air set her mind to vague questions of ethnobiology and when she looked up to identify the blooms for herself, tugging the hair out from under her collar, there he was.
The joy that fed her smile came from her toes, shattering the tightness in her belly. He looked just the same, grinning when she caught his eye. Moving quickly toward him, she dropped her bag and ran the last couple of steps, and then she was in his arms.
It was a completely spontaneous action. In all the time they'd known each other they'd never hugged, but in spite of it he was holding her as tightly as she was holding him.
He smelled incredible, and the scent of him brought tears to her eyes.
“You weren’t supposed to be here?” She spoke the words into his shoulder.
“I changed my mind.”
Kathryn slid her hands down his arms, stopping to squeeze his biceps before she released him and stepped back. She blinked a few times but ended up wiping her eyes anyway. "I'm sorry. This happens sometimes now. Apparently you can't suppress emotion for seven years and expect it to stay that way forever."
Chakotay laughed ruefully, giving her a quick flash of dimples before he ducked his head. "You don't say. I'm having some problems in that area myself." Moving back, he captured her abandoned bag, throwing it easily over his shoulder. "Come on. We have a bit of a walk and it'll be dark soon."
***********
"I wasn't sure you'd come."
"I wasn't sure either," Kathryn admitted. They'd exhausted the pleasantries and walked for a while in companionable silence.
There was a loud chirping in the tree above them and she stopped to search until she found the red feathers of a tiny bird, poorly camouflaged among the leaves. Smiling in satisfaction, she turned and fell back into step beside him. "But I have some time off, and the invitation was intriguing.”
Intriguing wasn’t quite the word. In truth she’d been more than a little taken aback. She wasn’t sure she’d ever hear from him again; an invitation to his home was the last thing she’d been expecting, and at the time she hadn’t been sure it was such a good idea.
The hurt they’d inflicted on each other had taken its toll.
But what was the alternative? Never see him again? Cut him out of her life, or let him cut her out of his, smile a polite greeting when their paths crossed at Starfleet functions, hear the occasional piece of gossip about him, and go on with her life as if he’d never been part of it?
Not possible.
Chakotay walked quietly beside her, letting her keep company with her own thoughts. He hadn’t said much when they’d planned her visit either, only that he hoped she’d consider it, now that things were settling down. But something in his dark eyes had made her think it was worth one more try.
It was fine. For once time was not her enemy. She patted his arm as they walked and relaxed into the joy of being with him.
“I’m looking forward to seeing your sister again. I liked her.” Kathryn smiled. “What I got to know of her in any case. Is it just the two of you in the house? Is she married?”
A shadow crossed his face. “Widowed. Her wife died in the war.”
Kathryn’s heart fell. “I’m sorry. Did you know her?” It was odd that she knew so little of his life before Voyager, but then she hadn’t talked much about her family either. It had been too painful.
“Oh, I knew her. We were friends even before she and Sekaya fell in love. I introduced them.”
The pride in his voice was sweet, warming her chest.
“You’re close to your sister.”
“Yes.”
She hadn’t known that. “Were you always?”
Chakotay smiled. “Yes. She always looked out for me. Even at the age when other girls considered their little brothers an irritation, she had time for me. Our mother died when I was very young, and she was protective. Then when she and Carina got married, it was both of them. Whether I wanted it or not.” He grinned wryly but there was a touch of longing in his voice.
“And then Carina died,” Kathryn prompted quietly.
He was silent for long enough that she thought he might not answer.
“She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught in a skirmish. The house she was in was burned by the Cardassians in supposed retribution for a Maquis raid.” His face darkened into the expression Kathryn remembered from his earliest days on Voyager. “She was on her way home. Another few minutes and she would’ve been gone.”
They walked a few moments in silence, as Kathryn absorbed this.
“What was she doing there?”
Chakotay nodded, as if he’d forgotten Kathryn didn’t know.
“She was a makisha.” A slight frown while he searched for the translation. “A baby guide. Like my sister.”
“A baby guide? A midwife?”
His eyes crinkled with amusement, breaking some of the tension of the mood. “Sort of, but it’s not quite the same.” He touched her shoulder gently for a second before pulling his hand back and Kathryn smiled at the contact. “My people believe that during pregnancy, the spirit of the child prepares to enter the corporeal world. A makisha helps the mother and child get ready for the physical and spiritual transition that takes place at birth, and aids in that transition in whatever ways are needed.”
Kathryn nodded. The sun was setting behind them, leaving the trees in purple shadow. “So Sekaya’s been to hell and back,” she said quietly, thinking of her own losses. “She doesn’t mind my being here?”
Taking her hand, Chakotay squeezed it warmly, and looked at her in a way she couldn’t interpret. “No, she doesn’t mind.”
Her first inclination was to pull her hand away but with a start of amusement she realised there was no reason. She could touch him now, as much as either of them wanted.
Twining her fingers into his, she squeezed back and grinned to herself at the surprise on his face. Kathryn had no idea what was left between them, if anything, but being with him felt good and right. It was a start.
***********
For the first few days they circled each other, willing but wary. Whatever had gone on had caused terrible pain. Trying to keep their distance, physical and emotional, Sekaya watched them return to each other again and again, with little touches, inside jokes, and studied looks when each believed the other unaware.
It was a powerful bond and one they wouldn’t overcome, but it wasn’t her place to point out the obvious.
Ah, Carina, we wouldn’t be so foolish as to waste a second of that time if it were restored to us.
She shook her head and finished watering the last of her seedlings. Each must walk their own path.
Kathryn exhaled sharply from across the loam, whether in frustration or to remove the wild strands of hair from her eyes Sekaya wasn’t sure. She was a focused worker, planting her section of the community garden nearly as quickly as the more experienced in the group, but from time to time, as now, Sekaya found her gazing off into the distance.
She didn’t mind the silence, comfortable with her own thoughts and planning quietly for the coming weeks. Resettlement was no easier this time, but peace was returning to them, rubbing up against their legs like a fat, lazy cat, with every home constructed, every new child born, every clod of dirt turned over.
It was infinitely satisfying and Sekaya sat up on her heels to survey the progress they’d made over the course of the afternoon.
The sun was slanted low in the sky and most of the others had already left for the day. Kathryn was on her stomach, propped on her elbows, patting down the soil around the last of the plants she’d been given.
She appeared to be talking as she worked.
“You’re not arguing with those seedlings, are you?”
Looking up startled, Kathryn flushed a pretty pink. She hauled herself into a sitting position and brushed the dirt off her hands.
“No. Although I may find them easier to persuade than Ranishe.”
She’d been intrigued by the water project, and had spent a long time in conversation and argument with the coordinator, much to Chakotay’s gentle amusement.
“Ranishe talks to no one. The fact that he allowed you to engage him in discussion speaks to the respect he held for your ideas.”
Kathryn smiled modestly in acknowledgement. She had dirt on her forehead and chin, and the hair at her temples was damp.
“Come, now. We’re done for the day.”
They washed quickly at the water pump, shaking their hands dry and letting the sun do the rest. Kathryn undid her hair, raked her fingers through in an attempt to restore some order, and redid the loose braid that kept it contained.
Sekaya watched her in silence. Kathryn wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Confident, intelligent, and used to being in control, the woman had a tender heart that appeared to influence everything she did. Chakotay had alluded to a great sadness in her past, which was perhaps the source of her wisdom, but it seemed not to weigh her down. Instead there was a buoyancy to her that refreshed like a cool breeze.
Oh yes, the spirits knew what they were doing when they brought this one into his life.
With a nod, she patted Kathryn on the shoulder and led her down the path, taking the left side of the fork instead of the right.
“Where are we going?”
“I have something I want to check before we return to the house. If you don’t mind?” She turned to Kathryn politely but it was more a formality than anything and she suspected Kathryn knew it.
“Of course not.”
Kathryn was quieter today than she’d been and while it was possibly a result of the heat, Sekaya thought not.
Leading her into the dark, cool shed, Sekaya went directly to the last container in the row and busied herself skimming off a sample.
“A still.” Kathryn’s voice was surprised and laced with laughter.
“We have to make our own. Well, we don’t have to, we prefer to.” She poured the liquid into a mug and passed it over. “Tell me what you think.”
Kathryn took a sip and held it in her mouth before swallowing. Her eyes widened. “This is good. Very smooth.”
A wave of pride flowed through her and she grinned happily. “Thank you. We’ve been doing it this way for generations. It’s not quite ready, but it’ll do for now.” She skimmed a second glass and motioned Kathryn to the few chairs that comprised the room’s furniture.
Taking a long drink, Sekaya sighed in satisfaction. Another eight to ten days, which meant it would be ready in time for the post-planting festivities. She wondered if Kathryn would stay.
“You fit well here.” She appraised the other woman with approval.
Kathryn smiled. “It’s good to be here. It seems odd not to see Chakotay every day. He was my best friend for such a long time.” She took another swallow.
“Best friend that you’re in love with.” Sekaya studied the colour through the clear glass. Maybe twelve days.
Kathryn’s drink had gone down the wrong way. Catching her breath, she cleared her throat and glared at Sekaya, but there was a grudging respect in her tone. “You’re blunt.”
Sekaya raised her eyebrows. “I have eyes, don’t I? I’m sorry, did you think it was a secret?”
Kathryn looked down for a moment, then shook her head briefly. “No.”
Nodding thoughtfully, Sekaya waited but the silence stretched out between them. Not a talker, this one.
“I like you, nishime. Little sister.” She corrected herself and smiled at Kathryn.
“Love comes, love goes,” she said thoughtfully. “Sometimes that’s okay. Sometimes it’s not. I don’t know how you tell the difference.”
She shrugged and drained her glass. “What I do know is this. When you mistake one for the other; when you lose what you should have kept...” She shook her head. “No one wants to live with that.”
A cloud passed over the younger woman’s face and when she looked up, the flash of pain in her eyes took Sekaya’s breath away. “I know.”
Sekaya nodded. “All right then.”
***********
The beginning and end of the day were always his favourite parts. Mornings, with their hopeful freshness, and evenings, with the rewards of dusk, bookended securely to make him feel he could accept whatever came in between.
He’d lit a few candles to chase away the blood-thirsty insects that came hunting in the twilight, but the porch was almost dark. The sounds of nature winding down mixed pleasantly with the laughter of Kathryn and his sister, who had shooed him away from the kitchen.
Chakotay shifted uncomfortably when the door opened. There were things between them still unsaid. For the first time he didn’t seem to have it in him to bring them up. Ripping the scab off his relationship with Kathryn seemed vaguely masochistic, but something in what Sekaya had said wouldn’t leave him alone. He was miserable.
“May I join you?” The soft, teasing lilt he remembered from so long ago, wending its way right through him.
“I was waiting for you.”
She moved to the railing and spent a few moments looking out across the land. Flickers of purple flashed in the dark and Kathryn spun around.
Her skirt made a little swishing noise against her legs and for a moment he was back in another time.
“Fireflies?”
Chakotay smiled to himself. “Something very similar, yes.”
“I like it here.” Kathryn leaned back against the railing. “I should’ve known it would be like this. You have a gift for creating pleasant spaces.”
He could picture her look, although he couldn’t quite make it out in the almost-darkness.
“It was difficult to imagine you anywhere other than Voyager. I’m glad I got to see it for myself. Now I’ll know what you’re talking about when you tell me things.”
Chakotay nodded, touched. “I’m glad you’re here, Kathryn.”
She paused a moment before continuing. “If you tell me things. You know, almost everyone else has stayed in contact with me, even the Doctor. The only ones I don’t talk to regularly are you, and...”
“Seven.” Chakotay filled in the word for her.
“Yes.”
They were silent. In the house he could hear Sekaya murmuring quietly to someone. She must have gotten a call.
“I know things were bad between us at the end. It was largely my fault, but Chakotay, I never meant to end up so far apart from you.”
Her words were unexpected, blurted quickly.
“I spent some time in mandated counseling, even after it was no longer required.”
If it was possible, this surprised him even more. “You did?” He tried to keep the amazement from his voice but judging by her chuckle, he hadn’t succeeded.
“I know, it’s not what anyone would expect, and I was resistant at first. I thought it was an enormous waste of time, not to mention ridiculously self-indulgent.” Wandering slowly the length of the railing, she trailed her fingers along it. “It turned out to be nice to talk freely with someone who wasn’t under my authority or invested in my decisions.”
“You could have talked to me, you know.”
Kathryn shook her head. “Chakotay, there was so much unspoken between us at the end, and we’d hurt each other so badly and so often. Every conversation beyond ‘what’s for dinner tonight?’ felt like an explosion waiting to happen.”
Her voice was low and Chakotay’s chest ached. She was right.
“It was interesting.” Kathryn took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “I expected to be criticised, however tactfully, for some of the things I did on Voyager, but it didn’t turn out that way. She congratulated me for how well we handled things, as a crew.”
He could hear her smile and the corners of his own mouth turned up a little.
“She also said they’d found fewer indications of stress or trauma in the crew than would be expected. They’re attributing that to the community we created on the ship.”
Kathryn was sharing a sense of vindication with him, and Chakotay let her pride surround and join with his own. “That was because of you. You made us a family.”
“No. That was because of us all.”
The silence this time was warmer. There was a rustling in the bushes beside the door.
“Somebody’s hunting for their dinner.”
“Yes.”
Her head tilted in the shadowy light. “No monkeys on this planet?”
“No. No monkeys.”
A pause and the sound of her thinking was almost audible.
“I miss you,” she said finally.
“I miss you too, Kathryn.”
She turned to face him from the far corner of the porch. “I talked about you a lot.”
“About me?”
“Well, not so much about you, as about us, and...”
“Yes.” This was something new.
Kathryn resumed her wandering pace along the rail. “She seemed to think the vast majority of what went wrong between us was the result of circumstance.”
Chakotay nodded. “I can see that. The constant stress...”
“The danger and isolation.”
“The never-ending adrenaline rush, especially in the last year.”
It made sense. He’d never understood why things had fallen apart so badly.
“I’m sorry.” Kathryn’s voice was laced with sadness. “I know I ruined things.”
“Kathryn, you didn’t ruin anything. It wasn’t you, it was just...” An angry feeling of helplessness choked off the end of the sentence, and Chakotay sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t know how to have this conversation.
“I could’ve handled things better.”
It was true. She could’ve.
He could’ve as well.
“We did our best,” he offered. There wasn’t much else to say.
“Yes.”
***
Crossing over the porch, Kathryn sat on the far end of the bench, Sekaya’s words ringing in her head.
Chakotay was unhappy; she recognised that. She’d come hoping to salvage something of the closeness they’d had, telling herself she could live with friendship if that’s all it could be.
Being with him again had made it clear that it wasn’t enough and never would be.
If only she could get past...
“Chakotay...”
He looked over at her.
“Why Seven?”
She felt him wince in the darkness.
“Kathryn--”
“We have to talk about it.”
It was more strident than she’d intended to be, and she swallowed her impatience. Her hands were at her sides, resting on the bench, and she leaned her weight forward onto them. “Please.”
“I don’t see the point.”
Kathryn said nothing, concentrating on the chirruping sound of the night-dwelling insects around them, and after a moment he acquiesced.
“I was lonely, frustrated, cut off from you,” Chakotay said flatly. “I was trying to get over losing whatever it was that we did have, so when she approached me, I said yes.”
“But there were so many women interested in you. At any given time there were two or three openly flirting with you. I don’t understand why it was her.”
“I was angry with you.”
It was a physical blow to the gut, sucking the breath out of her lungs.
For a moment it hung thick in the night air between them.
“What?”
“I was angry.” Chakotay leaned forward and his face was lit by the candle beside him. Shame haunted his eyes. “It’s the only answer I can come up with.”
“You wanted to hurt me.” Kathryn’s voice was small, foreign to her own ears.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” He stood and went to pace along the opposite railing.
“Kathryn, toward the end you pushed me away at every opportunity. Everything had changed between us and I didn’t know why. You wouldn’t talk to me and you threw every overture I made back in my face.”
Anger swelled up her chest and neck, and frustration for his childishness. “I couldn’t be with you,” she said furiously. “You knew that.”
“I know,” he shot back, his hands clenching in front of him. “I’m not talking about that. But you didn’t have to take away all the rest of it. You pulled the rug out from under me. One day you were my friend, a huge part of my life, and the next day you weren’t.”
That brought her up short. There was truth in it. She’d been so overwhelmed she’d shut him out entirely, isolating herself and punishing them both.
“So you used Seven to get back at me?” she said bitterly.
“No. No. That’s not fair, Kathryn. I liked being with Seven. And when I didn’t, about thirty seconds after we were back in the Alpha Quadrant, I ended it.”
“Is that what you want?” Her tone was cruel and taunting but she couldn’t help it.
“No.”
“Somebody younger, naive, innocent?”
“No,” Chakotay said coldly. “That’s not what I want. That’s why I ended it.”
***
The anger sizzled between them for a few moments more, then started to dissipate.
“If it had been anybody but Seven.” Kathryn sat back on the bench, leaning her head against the wall of the house.
“You broke my heart,” she said softly.
“And you broke mine.”
He spoke the words without malice. His chest was hollow, awash in an aching sense of futility. So this was how it would end. Chakotay wondered vaguely how he was going to live. The weeks since he’d left Voyager had been agonising. A lifetime of it would be unbearable.
He returned to sit beside her, not too close, resting his elbows on his knees, and tried to sort through the thoughts that were strangling his mind.
“The thing is,” he said quietly, straightening up, “I don’t understand it myself.”
“What do you mean?”
Chakotay looked at her intently. “It was so out of character for me. It was like I didn’t recognise myself, the whole time I was with Seven. Looking back, I can’t believe I did it.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Yes, I was angry, but I’m not a vindictive person.”
There was a strange look on her face but he continued. “And Kathryn, I would never deliberately hurt you, no matter how angry I got.” He ached for her to understand what he was saying. “You know me. You know I’m not like that. But that’s what happened.”
She was silent for a time. Chakotay had no idea what she was thinking.
“I had a hard time understanding some of the things I did as well,” Kathryn said finally. “There was so much about what happened that made no sense to me.”
For the first time she moved a little closer to him on the bench, and he could see her face more clearly.
“The counselor told me when people live long-term under the kind of stress we did, they start to behave oddly. In ways that are out of character. She gave me a whole list of things." Kathryn blushed. “Working too much, isolating oneself, failing to eat, and forming relationships that are inappropriate or unusual.”
He looked at her in amazement.
“Like I did with Kashyk.” Her eyes burned into his.
“Like I did with Seven,” Chakotay echoed, finishing her thought. “It makes sense. I’ve been over and over it in my mind. I could never...”
The truth of it resonated all through his body. “I could never make it make sense.” For the first time since he’d ended the relationship with Seven, the tight, hard band around his heart started to loosen.
The relief was like a blast of pure oxygen.
“But if you had feelings for her...” Kathryn was hesitant, attempting to be diplomatic, to see both sides even if she didn’t like the view.
That part he knew the answer to.
“That’s just it. I didn’t. I don’t. How could I?” Chakotay shook his head, remembering how entirely lost he’d been to her, right from the beginning.
“It’s only ever been you, Kathryn. Since the first moment I met you.”
She drew a shuddery breath that ended in half a laugh and her fingers reached out to brush across his hand, searching. “You feel that way? Still? Even after everything that’s happened?”
“Yes, I feel that way. Still.” Chakotay caught her fingers and looked up into the face of the only woman he’d ever wanted to spend his life with. “Always.”
He wasn’t sure who moved first but once Kathryn was in his arms it didn’t matter. He pulled her tightly against him and she clamoured onto his lap, burying her face in his neck.
Her hair smelled incredible and her breath was hot against his skin. Holding her shattered the last of his restraint, and the last of his guilt.
Chakotay rubbed his hands down her back, pressing her hard against him, and she wriggled like she was trying to burrow her way into his body.
She held tight as if any moment something might happen to wrench her away from him, but she didn’t need to worry. This time he was never, ever letting her go.
***
Being in his arms was pure joy.
Kathryn nibbled the side of his neck, breathing in the scent of him. Nuzzling her way along his jaw, she kissed him hungrily, and let the taste seep into every part of her body.
Chakotay’s mouth was hot and greedy, his tongue stroking against hers until she shivered.
Running her hands through his hair, soft against her palms, she stroked the sides of his face over and over. She couldn’t get enough of touching him.
Liquid heat pooled between her legs in response to the hardness she felt there. Kathryn rocked against him and he grunted in response. His hands tugged, impatient, at the hem of her shirt. Yes, yes. She needed--
The sound of a throat clearing pulled her back.
Sekaya. Sekaya was trying to get their attention.
A momentary flush of bashfulness overtook the heat of her arousal and she buried her face in Chakotay’s shoulder, laughing, in a desperate effort to regain her composure.
He stroked her hair, soothing her, but he didn’t let her go and she turned her head to look at his sister.
If Sekaya was surprised by the scene before her, she did nothing to indicate it.
“I got a call,” she said politely. “I’ll be leaving for the night now.” Catching Kathryn’s eye in the shadowy light, she grinned ever so slightly. “In fact, I probably won’t be back until late in the afternoon. It’s her first baby and the contractions are still very light.”
Moving to go back into the house, she paused to look at them. After a moment she nodded. “Good,” she said softly.
“Thanks, Sky.” Chakotay’s voice was low and Kathryn felt the rumble of it against her hands.
The door closed and the awkwardness flared through her again. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly.
“It’s okay, Kathryn.” He chuckled, running his hands over her back.
“I can’t believe it. I feel like I’m sixteen.”
“My people aren’t shy about sexuality,” he reminded her. “It’s not an embarrassing thing to her.”
“But it is to me!”
He cupped her cheek, looking at her with amusement. “Is it?”
His deep brown eyes twinkled with tenderness. She shook her head, smiling. “No.”
Chakotay listened for a moment, then hearing something that Kathryn couldn’t, grinned.
“She’s gone.”
He pulled her back down hard onto his mouth and for a split second her heart threatened to burst with happiness. Kathryn giggled again, thinking of their interruption, before her body took control and she was flooded with desire.
Finally.
The smell of him fueled something deep inside. Chakotay’s hands stroked under her shirt and up the bare skin of her back, firing the ache between her legs. Slipping a hand around and across her ribs, he slid under her bra to capture her nipple, rubbing his thumb across it until she was pushing against him.
Kathryn’s brain was a haze. When he withdrew his hand she buried her face in his shoulder and groaned in frustration. “Chakotay, I need--”
He was already undoing his trousers, his hands working between them, and when he was free she reached down to grasp him roughly.
It was his turn to groan and Kathryn grinned smugly. It seemed impossible that he could want this as much as she did but the shudder gave him away. She let him go quickly and raised up to her knees, wanting rid of the last barrier.
But he was quicker. Chakotay’s hands slid up her bare thighs under her skirt, brushing across the crotch of her panties. “Too much clothing,” he muttered grimly and she started to get up. Gripping her hips, he stilled her and tore the panties neatly off her body.
Amusement bubbled up in Kathryn’s chest. “Was that really necess--” She gasped and arched into the fingers that slid inside her.
“Better?”
“Yes, much better,” she panted. “I stand corrected.” Blinking away the lights that sparked through her vision, Kathryn kissed him hard again, probing deeply into his mouth as she moved against his fingers.
Breaking away from her, Chakotay held her chin for second, searching her eyes. His breath was sweet against her face and she held his gaze, letting him find what he was looking for, even as tremors ran across her abdomen and down her legs.
Moving off his hand, she slid her fingers slowly up under his shirt and along his stomach, feeling the muscle clench under her touch.
Everything in her ached to stroke him, to discover every centimetre of bare skin. But not now.
Kathryn reached down and gripped him firmly, squeezing until he made a strangled sound. His hands moved to her hips, tugging insistently, then guiding her down until he slid up deep inside her.
***
Her soft gasp as he entered and the agonising sweetness of being inside Kathryn made him tremble like the centre of an ion storm.
Chakotay wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight against him, the pounding pulse of her throat against his lips.
Kathryn leaned back to look at him, brushing his cheek gently, hissing when he caught her fingers in his mouth, moaning when he traced around them with his tongue.
They were fully clothed and the need to touch her frustrated him momentarily, until she began to move on him, blanking out the irritation in a sweet white fog.
Arching into him, she tossed her head back and his mouth found her throat, sucking the taste of her into his blood. He bit gently and was rewarded with a moan that raced down his back and across his belly.
Stroking once more eagerly up the soft skin of her inner thighs, Chakotay circled around to grip her hips, holding her firmly as she rode him. Shards of electricity shot through him as she moved, teasing at the tension coiled tightly in his groin, and he ached to somehow reverse their positions, to pound into her until she called out his name.
Instead he let her take from him, give to him, until the lines between them were blurred and he was panting. Kathryn kissed him, tangling her tongue against his urgently, taunting his control.
Sliding a hand to where they were connected, he stroked her clit roughly with the pad of his thumb and she gasped her approval before clenching around him.
She was beautiful in orgasm, free and joyous, and the sight of it sent him crashing over the edge with her. Her name echoed through his mind and he spoke it aloud on a groan of release; at once a promise and a prayer of gratitude.
***********
Lying with her on the cool sheets of his bed, gloriously exhausted, Chakotay stroked his hands through her damp hair and listened to her thinking.
They’d made love in the shower, then again when she’d crawled in next to him.
Now she was working something out in her mind and curiosity poked at him, in spite of his fatigue.
“You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” He could joke about it only because the incredible post-orgasm bliss had robbed him of every negative emotion he’d ever known.
“No.” Kathryn chuckled and turned to kiss his chest. “I wish we could have done this long before now.”
“Hmm.” His eyelids were heavy but he fought the urge away. Just a little more time.
“I couldn’t be with you on the ship.”
“I know.” Chakotay smoothed his hand down her back and let it come to rest on her hip.
“I couldn’t have put anything ahead of you.”
“I understand. You might’ve had to.” He wasn’t sure where the conversation was going, and sleep pulled at him relentlessly.
Kathryn shook her head, rubbing her soft hair against his chest. “No. That’s not it. I couldn’t have. Not, I didn’t want to have to. I never would have.” There was a slight quiver in her voice.
Chakotay opened his eyes. There was something to this. “Tell me,” he encouraged gently.
She took a deep breath and tried again. “I never could have, never would have put anything ahead of you. I’m not made like that. I couldn’t have done it. I would have sacrificed the ship to save you, if it came to that.”
Kathryn turned over to prop herself on his chest, resting her chin on her hands. She looked into his eyes, and chuckled darkly. “Obviously that’s not an option for the captain, so I made sure I was never in a position where it would be an issue. That’s why I stayed so far away from you and that’s why the more I cared for you, the more distance I put between us. I loved you so much and I knew that anything more than what we had was an impossible, unacceptable risk.”
Chakotay nodded, letting her words roll through him and soak into his spirit.
“I’m sorry.” Kathryn’s voice was a whisper.
“You loved me?”
“Yes.” She nodded sadly.
“No, but I mean, you loved me? Past tense?”
“Oh--” The sadness faded from her face and Kathryn grinned, blushing a little.
“Not exactly.” Laying her head down on his chest meant she didn’t have to look at him, he knew. “Past, present, future,” she said simply.
Wrapping her up in his arms, Chakotay rolled onto his side and gathered her close against him, settling in happily for sleep.
“Then I think we’re okay.”
***********
The sun was just over the horizon when Chakotay opened his eyes to find Kathryn draped across him. They’d shifted position in the night but at some point she’d snuggled into him again. He liked that.
He smoothed the hair back from her face, but she didn’t stir even as he began the slow process of disengaging their bodies.
Love or not, Chakotay didn’t want to be the first person she saw when she woke and discovered there was no coffee immediately available.
Pulling away gently, he slid from the bed and settled the covers back around her bare shoulders. He rummaged for a pair of pyjama trousers, stood to watch her sleep for a moment, then made his way to the kitchen.
On Voyager Kathryn attacked mornings the way she attacked everything else; as though they were something to be wrestled into submission. Smiling to himself, he remembered mornings on New Earth when she’d emerged sleepy and tousled from her bed corner, padding past him in bare feet to retrieve a cup of coffee before settling into a chair in the yard with her feet tucked under to watch the day unfold.
Small, simple memories like that one had tormented him for months when they’d returned to the ship. He couldn’t live through that again. He wouldn’t.
With a start, Chakotay realised he was standing in front of the replicator. Shaking his head, he ordered their tea and coffee. He’d go back with her, if she’d let him, and he thought she would. There was nothing else to do. He didn’t want to live his daily life without her.
He had a momentary sadness at the thought of leaving Sekaya and his people. For the first time since he was a young child he felt fully himself with them, at home and a part of things. He’d thought he’d never have that again. To think of losing it pulled hard at his heart.
But it couldn’t be helped. It was a small loss compared to being without Kathryn.
Warm hands slid across his back and around his waist, pulling him from his reverie.
Turning to enfold her in his arms, Chakotay stopped to appreciate the fact that she was dressed in one of his shirts, which stopped high on her bare thighs. His groin tightened in response.
“I woke up and you weren’t there,” Kathryn said pointedly.
He bent to kiss her, lingering for a moment. “I was going to bring this to you in bed,” he offered, turning back to retrieve their drinks.
“Ahhh, smart man.” Her look of delight as she took the first sip made his heart do a funny little flip.
“I’ll try to ignore the fact that you’re happier to see the coffee than me.”
Kathryn took his hand and led him out of the kitchen and back up the stairs. “Not happier,” she promised, then looked back over her shoulder at him and grinned. “Equally happy.”
Chakotay laughed. “I can live with that,” he said, climbing back into bed beside her. He sat propped against the headboard and Kathryn moved in against him, under his arm, as if she’d been doing it all her life.
She shifted to kiss his neck, inhaling deeply, then settled back with a satisfied sigh to drink her coffee.
“I thought I might stay here for a while.”
“You did?” He hadn’t expected that.
“I like it. It’s peaceful.” Kathryn’s hand traced a little pattern against his leg under the covers, arousing and soothing at the same time.
“More importantly, you love it here.”
“Yes.” Chakotay wasn’t sure how she knew, but it was the truth.
Kathryn shifted out of his arms and turned so she could look at him. Her face was very serious.
“I’ve been thinking about this. For seven years we did everything according to what I wanted.”
She shook her head when he started to protest. “I know it was circumstantial, but what mattered to you never came into the mix. It couldn’t. I made all the decisions and they were based on what I needed as captain, what I felt Starfleet would have wanted, and what was best for Voyager.”
She smiled a little shyly. “I want to change that.”
“Kathryn, you don’t owe me anything.”
Her look of tenderness made his breath catch. “I owe you everything,” she said lightly, “but that’s not the point.”
Breaking off her gaze, she took a long sip of coffee then turned to settle back in against him. “I never planned for work to be my entire life. It’s not what I want.” She elbowed him gently in the ribs and her voice took on a hint of laughter. “This might surprise you but I led a very balanced life before I was pulled away to the Delta Quadrant.”
Chakotay rested his chin on the top of her head. “It doesn’t surprise me. I remember New Earth.”
There was a pause. “I wanted...”
“I know.” He kissed her hair before releasing her. “I did too. We just ran out of time.”
“But we have time now,” she said happily.
“How are you planning to manage this?” Chakotay was cautious, although his heart was thudding with delight. “You’ll go crazy, not working.”
“Who said anything about not working? I can do a lot of what Starfleet wants from here, although I would like to take some time off.” She shrugged and finished the last of her coffee. “I have enough of it coming. Besides, there’s a water project that I’ve been dying to get my hands on, and Sekaya thinks I might have an in with the manager.”
Chakotay set his mug on the bedside table and took the empty one from her. “You have this all figured out.”
Kathryn slid down into the bed and tugged him down beside her. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what I want for my life. Once I figured that out, the details were easy.”
He slid a hand up under the shirt, tracing across her ribs to brush the soft underside of her breast. “And what is it that you want?”
Moving closer to him she wrapped a bare leg around his thigh. “You and me together, and a chance to build the life we want instead of just falling into it.”
She moaned softly when he licked his way up her throat. “What do you think?”
Pausing, Chakotay pretended to consider it, as if the universe hadn’t just been handed to him on a silver platter. “That sounds reasonable,” he said seriously. “What about children?”
Kathryn made a face. “How about a dog first?” She tugged at the waistband of his trousers, sliding them down his hips. “I promise to give serious thought to the other.”
He sat up to pull the top over her head and she caught him before he lay back down. “Chakotay,” her eyes searched his for something. “I can’t be without you.”
His heart ached at her vulnerability. “You won’t be,” he promised, rolling her underneath him. “Not ever.” He stroked her cheek and watched her study him. Her breath was soft against his lips.
Nodding, she pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him deeply.
Warm, liquid desire flowed all through him, blurring the practicalities and shutting down his brain, and that was fine. It would take time for them to trust it, but she was right. They had all the time in the world.