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1995-11-02
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Pleasure

Summary:

The crew of Voyager takes shore leave on a utopian planet and the senior officers let their hair down.

Notes:

A friend sent this story to fan fiction legend Jacqueline Lichtenberg, who wrote me a lovely note saying that she had enjoyed reading what I'd done with the characters, but it hardly counted as a story at all. She's right: the point of view switches constantly, there's romance-novel metaphor at times and great explicitness at others. It was still first season and I'd been playing with ideas about what gender equality might mean in a romantic relationship -- now that Star Trek had finally given us a female character who was the equal of the men we've known over the years, how would she think about sex and romance? What would it mean for a man and a woman to fall in love without any of the usual patriarchal baggage? I was trying to work out a balance in the story, not too much of her point of view, not too much of his.

Paramount owns the characters. Frank Lloyd Wright used the term "Usonian" to describe his architecture and would probably be appalled at its use here. Any resemblance to the honeymoon suite scene in 'Superman II' is the fault of my oldest friend, vertigo66, whose 'Lois and Clark' fanaticism has obviously begun to affect me in strange ways.

Work Text:

Neelix had made the recommendation: "If we divert from this course long enough to pass by Usonia, you won't be sorry." Janeway had very nearly laughed him off at first. But the promise of the ore deposits and vast knowledge of herbs possessed by the Usonians swayed her decision, and she made the choice to veer towards the planet. Usonia itself had no spaceflight, but all the other planets in its system did; the region was kept peaceful and stable by the more aggressive Divurrian neighbors, so all contact between Usonia and other worlds had been harmonious and mutually beneficial. The captain wasn't sure what the Voyager might have that the Usonians would want, but Neelix assured her that her gratitude would please the natives more than any barter: "They are very committed to pleasure. It's a deep spiritual passion for them. If you're happy they're happy, that's all there is to it.

The initial landing party, led by Chakotay and Tuvok, found Neelix to be as good as his word. The planet was relatively unsophisticated but remarkably industrialized; what technology they lacked for exploration, they made up for in pursuit of luxury. The people worked to improve the mechanics of easy life, but spent most of their days in meditation and spiritual pursuits, alternating the responsibilities of caretaking for the rest. They lived simply but beautifully in huge extended families, marrying young and spacing their children far apart so as to enjoy each of them fully, treasuring nature, preserving the past.

Chakotay seemed very taken with the Usonians. He returned from the surface full of energy and tales of the expeditions he had been taken on, up a mountain to a shrine and underwater to explore the great reefs of the vast inland seas. "They're going to let us mine as much ore as we can carry," he reported enthusiastically. "And they're willing to let our entire crew enjoy shore leave on the southern continent, since it's unlikely they'll come into contact with many Usonians there. Captain, their main concern is hospitality, they seemed afraid that we would think they were intruding on our rights if they came into contact with us. It's as if they have their own Prime Directive and don't want to corrupt us too much." His face glowed when he reported in; Janeway could not help but think that a sojourn on this world might boost crew morale as well as their energy reserves.

"All right," she agreed. "Start dividing the crew into work teams and shore parties. Should I beam down to the capitol, do you think?"

"They asked me to invite you. They're planning to show the entire planet off to you. Captain...if you don't mind, I'd like to stay in the city also and study some of the religious customs. The capitol is the center of their spiritual life, and I'd like to learn more."

She considered for a moment, then nodded agreeably; Torres could supervise the engineering teams more efficiently than Chakotay could, and Tuvok would take care of security for the away teams. "I want to talk to the leaders before I commit us to anything," she warned. "And we're going to need to find out if there are any particular customs we have to watch out for."

The magistrates seemed as open and pleasant as Chakotay had assured her they would be. "You must come to the surface," the spokesperson enthused. "We have already begun to teach your partner our ways of celebrating this planet. You must come and share with us."

"My partner?" she asked quizically while the magistrates smiled delightedly.

"Commander Chakotay," the spokesman said. "We do not fully understand your leadership structure--he said that you are his superior? We have no partners superior to any others. Nonetheless we will respect your practices in this important matter."

Janeway cocked her head as the magistrates took turns expounding the virtues of the capitol. "All right, Commander Chakotay and I will arrive in one of our hours," she agreed, cutting off a long but delightful speech about the mountain winds that caused flower petals to descend on the city in the summer. The magistrates applauded with the heels of their hands slapping their thighs. Janeway suppressed an amused smile and signed off to make preparations. As she left her ready room she signaled to Chakotay to follow her; the lieutenant on Bridge duty would be relieved by one of the members of the first shore teams later. They entered the turbolift.

"What did you tell them about us, Commander? They keep calling you my partner."

He grinned. "These people mate at young ages and remain inseparable until death. I couldn't quite get through to them that many of our people have more than one 'partner,' and some don't marry at all."

"You mean they think that you and I are..."

She rolled her eyes as he got the look of wicked amusement she'd seen him wear at her expense before. "I'm sure you can straighten this out when we get down there," he chuckled. "Although I'd be careful if I were you. If you tell them you're unattached, they're going to try to fix you up with a widower."

She shook her head as the lift stopped. "Well, I'm going to get supplies. I'll meet you in the transporter room at fourteen hundred hours." He nodded, and she strode briskly down the hall to ask Neelix what sort of gifts they should bring their hosts.

Janeway was embarrassed at the reception they received on Usonia, although she noted that Chakotay seemed to take it in stride. They were treated like visiting royalty: speeches were made, food was served, musicians wandered through the vast park in the center of the city where flowers bloomed in disorderly splendor. At Neelix's suggestion, she had left her uniform back on the ship and worn a simple skirt; even so, she felt overdressed, as their hosts seemed to prefer bare feet and loose, unkempt clothing for special occasions. The magistrate who had greeted her in her ready room approached her with something like disappointment on his face: "Why have you knotted your hair so sternly at a celebration such as this?" he asked, and after a moment's hesitation she began to take the bun down, handing the pins to her rather surprised first officer as she shook the locks loose. She wondered where Chakotay had gotten the clothes he was wearing for the occasion--everything he had owned on this side of the galaxy had been destroyed along with his ship, and she couldn't imagine him tinkering with the replicators just for fashion.

One of the magistrates asked them to join them in giving thanks. He showed them the motions to one of the swaying dances that the Usonians entered into before eating, sleeping, or engaging in any of the many forms of celebration to which the planet seemed devoted. Janeway was surprised at Chakotay's elegance in following the movements: she would not have guessed the big man to be so graceful. He was conversely humored by her stiffness; although she responded well to physical people, being one herself, she seemed at a loss when the aliens expected her to pick up on the performative aspects of their culture. She shot him a glare at his study and he made a comical face which made her giggle. Without the uniform, it was harder to remember the command hierarchy, and she reminded herself as she turned away that protocol had to hold, no matter the customs of the planet they were on.

They separated for a time to talk with different cultural leaders, but Chakotay was aware of himself searching the crowd for a flash of her hair shining in the evening light. He could not help wondering whether he unconsciously looked for her when he entered rooms on the ship for reasons other than her seniority.

After the celebration they were escorted to guest quarters that reminded Janeway of how royalty had lived on earth in very ancient times--one huge room filled with luxuries, potpourri boiling over a small fire built against a rock wall, a pile of blankets ranged before it, fruit and bread on one table, another strewn with clusters of flowers. The vast windows overlooking the lake were surrounded by pillows; more pillows were piled in the center of the room, and soft draperies hung about the windows and mirrors. A large, ornate tub with what looked to be heat jets took up one corner, surrounded by towels and scented oils. Her glance fell on the largest piece of furniture in the room, a bed at least four times as large as the one in her quarters on the ship, layered in soft sheets over heavy blankets, with a grand slotted headboard that had more draperies woven almost suggestively between the panels. The captain's eyes took in the sleeping situation and her first officer in wide surprise.

"I'll go tell them we need another room."

"That may not be a good idea, Captain. They've been giving us the privileges accorded to married people. I think they may feel betrayed if you tell them we're not."

"You mean you knew this and you didn't warn me?" She shook her head. "In that case, Commander, you get to sleep on the floor."

The grin again. "It looks like there are enough pillows in here to make that tolerable."

"We could probably both sleep in a bed that size and never know the other one was there." The moment the words were out of her mouth, she appeared to regret them and quickly changed the subject: "I can't believe that they left us more food. I don't understand why everyone on this planet doesn't weigh several hundred kilos."

"They get a lot of exercise," Chakotay observed, realizing that he was tired from several days of sharing that experience; he hadn't realized how cooped up he had felt on the ship, even with the gym, until he'd gotten to stretch down on the surface. "My muscles are killing me."

"Go lie down then. I'll finish the log." She dug out a padd and headed for a table as he crossed the room, glancing back to see where she really expected him to sleep; her back was to him. He flopped himself on the far side of the bed, kicking his boots off and tossing the coverings down around his ankles. He expected to fall asleep quickly, but kept sneaking glances at the golden hair in the firelight; the flowers, the warmth, the soft insect noises from outside all conspired to keep him awake.

The captain's dedication to duty impressed him. He knew that his own logs from the mission had been woefully incomplete, he had been too busy enjoying himself. He had taught the Usonians a little bit about vision questing and herbal medicine on his world as he learned about theirs, and they had showed him the various ways they kept their bodies and spirits linked in joy. He did not relish describing the midnight swim he had taken with the naked magistrates, nor how he had rolled like a child with them down a grassy hill, in an official report that Janeway would read. Of course, her background in science probably established a different kind of discipline even than command training. Although the captain had seemed slightly altered since beaming down, she was smiling more than usual and almost seemed to be flirting...but that was probably just his imagination at work. He didn't deny that he had had such thoughts about her before, but he usually knew better than to pursue them.

Eventually Janeway put down the padd and rubbed her eyes, rising to cross the room. Her eyes widened at the sight of her first officer stretched out comfortably over the blankets. From her vantage point, he appeared to be fast asleep. A rush of affection flooded her--she wanted to lie down beside him and press her face into his back--it had been so long since she had simply held someone--she dismissed the thought, telling herself that she should pile the blankets and pillows into a heap and curl up on the floor, then deciding that she was being foolish. Hesitantly she sat on the far side of the bed, tugging off her sandals and leggings, and lay down, reminding herself that she sat closer to him on the bridge than she was lying now. Chakotay shifted and she found herself attuned to his movements--his breathing, the fluttering sound of his hands as he shifted the pillows, the slight twitches of his limbs as they relaxed. It's just loneliness, she warned herself, availability more than interest. She couldn't pretend that he had not crossed her mind on other sleepless nights, but she tried very hard to convince herself that the stress of her position was merely getting to her.

In fact Chakotay was wide awake, stealing furtive glances across the great divide of the covers at the woman sprawled on her back with her arms above her head. Her breasts strained against the light fabric of her dress and the material clung to her stomach and thighs. He could not help but hope that it would slide up as she tossed in sleep. He sighed slightly; her eyes flickered in his direction and he quickly shut his own, although he thought he could feel her studying his face.

Janeway fought an urge to reach across the pillows and touch the tattoo on his forehead, to ask him about it. Scientific curiosity, she insisted to herself, as her arm began to stray. His lids popped open and their gazes locked. They both turned away quickly, embarrassed and nervous, rolling onto opposite sides with their backs toward each other.

Chakotay tried to meditate and felt himself growing agitated nonetheless. If she were a restless sleeper, they might drift together in the middle of the night, waking up pressed into one another, his arms resting on those curves he could see through the dress...

...almost as if she were reading his thoughts, she pulled one of the light coverings up from the foot of the bed and hid herself under it. Her motives were rather different than he suspected--she did want to shield herself, but not from his prying eyes--she was half-afraid he would be able to smell how aroused she was becoming. She could smell his skin and that made her ache to taste it--warm, salty, she imagined--the longer she lay next to him, the stronger she was finding the temptation to touch him. She knew she should move elsewhere, but feared that he would guess why she could not sleep beside him.

Chakotay's thoughts ironically mirrored hers. Unable to put himself into the outermost levels of trance without his herbs, he tormented himself with fantasies, playing out a dozen scenarios in his head which all ended the same way. What if he rolled across the bed toward her, pretending to be asleep, and murmured her name? What if he touched her very gently, so that she could pretend not to be awake if she didn't want to be responsible for what happened? What if she reached out right at this moment for him? What if he simply opened his mouth and told her what was going through his mind? Somehow his desire to confess was even stronger than his desire to make contact with her; that disturbed him. Being stimulated from proximity was bad enough. If he let himself get emotionally entangled, he would never get any rest, not for the next 70 years...

Neither of the senior officers managed to sleep until the early morning hours, when exhaustion dragged them into restless dreams.

The sound of trumpeting animals awoke Chakotay, who opened his eyes to find Janeway already up. He swung his legs stiffly off the mattress and crossed toward the plates of fruit left from the night before. A bowl of large pink berries presented itself. He bit into one, which turned out to be mostly liquid under its crisp skin. The delicious fluid spilled over his fingers as Janeway came over to see what he was doing.

"Try this." He held the fruit out to her.

"What is it?"

"It's good, it's sweet and sticky and smells like watermelon."

"Watermelon doesn't have a smell." She reached to take it from his hands, then realized that the juice would probably get all over both of them during the exchange; looking up at him coyly, she leaned over and bit cautiously into it. The shell crumbled in his fingers and her dribbling chin lurched into his palm. "This is no substitute for coffee!" she cried.

He was tempted to lean over and lick the juice from her neck, but settled for snatching a corner of the cloth covering the table and pressing it to her face. "Tastes better though," he said, and she was forced to agree; whatever its disadvantages, the fruit was luscious, light and sweet. "Should we see if we can get the pump for that tub to work, now that we both need a bath?"

She felt giddy from lack of sleep and physical tension as she watched him fill the tub, turning on the heating elements to warm the water. "You don't think we're getting in there together too?" she asked dangerously. The self-conscious grin on his face told her that he had entertained the thought, and the speed with which he turned away from her made her wonder whether her words had sparked the same twinges in his lower body as her own.

"No, I think I'm going to go walk around that lake for awhile. And when I get back, I think you're going to find out what's on our agenda--Captain." She flushed slightly; she had thought for a moment that he was going to address her by name. "I'll see whether I can dig you up something more like coffee," he added on his way out, smiling back at her.

Janeway relaxed in the hot water, wondering what might happen if she let Chakotay find her still there when he returned. She reached over the side to open one of the bottles of oil; it smelled vaguely like pine trees, so she let a few drops fall into the tub, hoping the scent would remain on her skin. The towels were as big as she was, and when she inspected the closets she found that clothing had been left in them; she pulled on a Usonian shift, lighter and looser than anything she owned, tying a long cloth belt around her head to keep her damp hair out of her face. Thus dressed, she was afraid to brave the pink berries again, but tried some of the acorn-like nuts and strips of smoked vegetables.

She checked in briefly with Torres and Tuvok, feeling a pang of regret that they were not enjoying the vacation, and was relieved to hear that the mining was proceeding smoothly, the crew having little contact with the natives of the southern hemisphere. Chakotay knocked loudly and waited for her call before entering, probably afraid of catching her rubbing herself with one of the perfumed lotions--or perhaps simply rubbing herself, she thought wryly. He stared approvingly at her in the native clothes before holding out a stone pot in her direction. "Here. It isn't coffee, but it smells like almonds and I'm told it's medicinal."

They drank the alien beverage thoughtfully. He had jogged partway around the lake and kept away from her, suspecting he must seem greasy and unkempt next to her clean softness. "We have to get some of these roots to Neelix," she commented, marking the outlines of her first officer's biceps and abs under the damp shirt he was wearing, then chiding herself for looking. "I'll ask the magistrates. Any idea where I'm supposed to go?"

He directed her to the central dining hall where he'd gotten the hot pot; all the leaders had been assembled with their families when he arrived, and had asked after her, giving him knowing smiles when he said she was getting dressed. "I'll meet you there, then," he said, handing her the empty pot as she rose. "I gather those"--he nodded at her clothing--"came from the closets?" She nodded back, and he strode across the room to open one. "Looks like my choices are to bare my arms or bare my back, he said, holding up two shirts.

"I hope the pants are all there," she said straightfaced, and he gave her a devilish grin which made her look at the floor. "I'm going to get going. I'll see you in a little while."

Once she had gone, he stripped off what he was wearing and inspected the tub. He had planned to empty and refill it, but the lingering scent of woodlands and the strands of long hair that clung to the side changed his mind. He dropped in, letting the water that had enveloped her surround him. It had cooled and felt good against his sweaty skin. Running had taken the edge off the arousal which had kept him up most of the night; he had imagined that she might be watching him out the huge circular window as he jogged. "Just for you, Kathryn," he sighed aloud, realizing that for the most part they had ceased using one another's titles while on the surface. The name jolted the part of him which wanted to drowse in the tub all morning, rousing him to pull himself out and get dressed.

They were shown around the finest spots of the city--religious shrines, meditation gardens, ritual baths--and fed two glorious meals before noon. Despite her relative lack of sleep, Janeway felt alert and comfortable. The fresh air and open spaces of the planet gave her a strange sense of perspective; on the cramped ship she always felt that she had to dominate every room she was in, appearing larger than life to her crew, but under the vast skies of Usonia she felt dwarfed by nature. Whenever they were shown something which interested her, she grabbed Chakotay's hand excitedly; he could not say for certain that she was touching him more than usual, since she tended to be physical even during the most serious of situations, but he knew he was responding more than was his wont, and wondered if she noticed.

The religious beliefs of the Usonians manifested itself in every aspect of their lives: they gave thanks before performing any bodily functions, they stopped to pray whenever they entered or exited a dwelling, they ate no meat and wore no animal skins. Janeway knew that her questions must sound more scientific than spiritual and hoped that Chakotay's open appreciation of the culture would compensate for her inability to identify with them; her delight in the magnificence of the planet and her appreciation of its luxuries were genuine, and she could not remember being so at ease since before they had left home.

In the afternoon Chakotay was eager to show her the fabled inland sea, but their hosts convinced them to take a heliscooter to the mountains to see the planet's few active volcanoes, which they called the firefalls. They rode in a cramped aircar with two magistrates and their spouses, peering around each other out the open sides. There were many waterfalls which Chakotay commented upon; the sound of running water had always relaxed him, and he told his pleased hosts so. Every time Janeway leaned over him to see anything, Chakotay was aware of her breasts pressing against him--smaller and firmer than they looked in her uniform, he mused distractedly. Her hair whipped about in the breeze, smacking him in the face occasionally and getting caught between his lips. He finally grabbed it in his hands, holding it down against her shoulder as she laughed apologetically. It felt heavier than he expected, somehow strong and soft at the same time. He was in no hurry to release the tresses when she reached up to replace his fingers with her own.

One of the magistrates smiled warmly at them. "Your species is nearly as romantic as ours," she said. "Obviously you enjoy touching one another." Chakotay released the locks with a mock flourish while Janeway looked disconcerted, saying quickly that she had a reputation for being very hands-on even among her own officers. The magistrate shook her head, unconvinced. "It's also the way you look at one another. Even when the other is not paying attention to you, you can't keep your eyes off each other." They both squirmed, glancing nervously away as the magistrates beamed and the aircar slowed, jolting them in their seats. "Here we are. We must set down at the top of one peak and use metal fliers to look at the firefalls."

They exited the cramped car and Janeway almost called the whole thing off when she saw the fliers; they looked fragile and unsafe, she was not about to let herself and her first officer get involved in anything so dangerous. They stood less than two meters from a steep falls which dropped away to one side. Below them lay dense jungle, and a mountain rose above the greenery, stark against the lushness. Her hosts seemed to read her mind. "They are safer than they look," one said. "Our fliers are tethered by cables to the rock face. No one has ever been injured flying over the volcanoes."

"All right," she said finally, "but Chakotay and I go out one at a time. Me first."

They loaded her into one of the fliers and a magistrate into another, showing her how to work the hand controls which would let her angle the little machine so that she could look down into the volcano or up to the sky where its heat was said to be reflected. She glanced at Chakotay once before turning her full attention to the flier; he looked slightly but not overly concerned, he trusted these people.

She felt the metal leave the ground and suspend her over empty space, held only by wire and wind; her stomach dropped, and just at that moment the Usonians began to sing, a glorious religious chant. The sky brightened, turning red over the mountain, and a streak like an aurora came into view. Suddenly it seemed to sweep down at her, falling in sparks like fireworks, a seemingly endless pyrotechnic display spurting continuously out of the sky. It looked like lava from a volcano, but there was no source. Shards fell against her skin but dissolved just as they made contact.

"What is it?" she gasped aloud.

"The firefalls," the magistrate in the other flier called, interrupting his joyous song. "Come, if you swing over the next peak you can see the sea past the volcanic field." She tilted the controls hesitantly, feeling the flier lift, and everything within her seemed to soar: the song and the little car pulled her up toward the light, she was held within its spell. She wished that she could share the spiritual joy that the others obviously felt, and abruptly she wished Chakotay was with her so that she could watch him experience it; she knew that she did not dare turn around to look in the direction of the others, but she hoped preposterously that he could feel her thinking of him. As the craft rose upward on a warm draft, she caught a glimpse of the sea shining like a jewel behind the mountains. Janeway understood why the Usonians had never developed a need for space travel: they had learned instead to glory tirelessly in the splendor of their own world. No wonder they believed in gods who resided on the planet. She felt a strange tremor run through her body and lodge in her loins; she was surprised at how physically the religious fervor filled her.

Chakotay helped her out of the flier when they got back. She thought it was out of eagerness to take off himself, but he stopped her as she began to clear out of the way for him. "How was it?" he asked, looking at her eyes flashing over her flushed cheeks.

She tried to tell him, inarticulately, about the fire and the singing and the wind and the sea, as he smiled in puzzled fascination. "It was like getting to watch from heaven," she explained in frustration while he smiled gently. "Not like being in space on a ship, but being able to look at an expanse of planet and seeing everything that mattered there at once. I wanted you to be there so you could tell me how it feels to a spiritual person. It was beautiful, but it wasn't the same for me, especially not alone."

She looked so forlorn that he took her hands in his for a moment. He could feel the Usonians politely pretending not to watch. "I'll tell you when I get back," he promised her, squeezing her fingers before releasing her to get into the flier. She watched as his craft flew in the same arc hers had taken, wishing she could know the exact moment when the sky would turn to fire for him. The Usonians began to sing again and she stood taut in the wind, feeling the sense of flight overtake her body, watching Chakotay soar towards paradise. Her fierce carnal identification with the sacred ecstasy of her hosts made her uncomfortable; she was very glad they could not know about the thrill that made her body tense as they sang.

Chakotay was very quiet when the fliers returned, looking almost dreamily out of the aircar as they descended. His face glowed with whatever emotion the firefalls had evoked in him; Janeway did not want to call it bliss, which seemed too quiet somehow, what he felt seemed to be more passionate than that. He found her eyes, the same blue as the sea, focused intensely on his face, and they brought him back from the clouds, anchoring him. "You're not going to like this, but I think you described the experience very well," he said quietly. "I'm starting not to believe you when you say you're more of a scientist than a spiritual person. Every time I've felt strongly about something on religious grounds, you've gone along with me, and I think you appreciate it more than your scientist self wants to admit."

"You're probably right," she confessed, feeling a strange ambivalence at his words: she did not know whether it bothered her that he might know her better than she knew herself, or that she might have changed because of him.

They were treated to another great feast that evening, this time in an indoor hall where the dancing was more formal and the food more elaborately prepared. More clothes had been left for them, ornamented but neither stiffer nor heavier, and they went along with their hosts' wishes to see them share Usonian custom. Chakotay drank a glass of something which was definitely derived from alcohol and felt a little tipsy for part of the evening; he could not seem to speak eloquently of how his own customs contrasted with theirs, and found himself studying his captain's hair--she had altered it again, some kind of twisted barrette held part of it back and to the side with ribbons braided down through it, but a few rebellious strands had fought their way loose and were curling across her front. For her part, she found that she could not eat: after two days of feasting and the wonderful satiation of the afternoon, coupled with a near-sleepless night before, she had no appetite whatsoever.

They made a polite attempt to participate in the dances, but the magistrates seemed to sense that they had taken in all that they wished to for the time being, and several smiled knowingly as if they suspected ulterior motives for the visitors' distraction. The banquet broke up earlier than Janeway expected and they were escorted with much flourish back to the guest quarters by the magistrate who had first greeted them. "What's on the agenda for tomorrow?" Chakotay asked him.

"Well, you had spoken of wanting to return to the reef, and we have not shown you any of the continent where your people are working so hard," came the reply. "But we also had the thought that you might want to rest. We could have food sent in to you, if you so desired. You would never have to leave the room if you did not wish to." The alien smiled carefully as they reached the door. "You must have customs of your own that we distract you from," he added. "We will not bother you tomorrow unless you seek us out." Janeway looked after him quizically while he withdrew.

The first thing Janeway noticed when they entered the room were details: someone had strewn fresh flowers across the tables, replaced the food, left more clothing draped over the couches nearest the bed. The first thing Chakotay noticed was that someone had gutted the middle of the room and installed a fountain. He was breathless with delight. When she finally realized what he was staring at, she was amazed; the running water looked as though it had always flowed across the room and into the great basin under the window, the sound of bubbles tinkling gently over the crackle of the fire which had been relit. "They are unbelievable," she said, shaking her head. "You say you like running water, they give it to you. I may just take them up on their offer to stay in here all day tomorrow. Maybe we could lose our communicators, too."

Chakotay glanced at her, wondering if she had missed the expression on the alien magistrate's face when the man had made the suggestion; it had been obvious to himself at least that eating and resting were not what he expected them to do once they were alone. He headed over to the water, splashing it on his face while she crossed to the table strewn with flowers. "They brought more of that almond drink," she said. "And more of those berries, they noticed what we ate." She headed over to the tub with a smile. "And some kind of plant--it must be whatever was used in that oil..."

"Look at this." He had walked toward the couch nearest the bed, the one with the native clothing resting across it. His voice held amusement and something else, a glitch she couldn't quite identify. She stepped behind him as he lifted the material with a strange expression on his face. "I think, um, I think this is for you," he said and handed it to her. She pulled the thin layers of tinted fabric apart and realized that it was some sort of negligee, or barely so; the cloth was cut in long strips from the tie at the neck to the floor-length hem, and made her think her less of nightclothes than a wrapping for a gift.

"On the contrary, I think it's for you," she retorted and stole a look at his face; he was trying to look as though he were examining the cloth, but in fact he was staring at her body through the translucence, his fingers slightly clenched. She could feel color rising in her cheeks as she reached past him to the couch, releasing the gown into a heap, laughing nervously when she inadvertently brushed his hip. Her breathing sounded uneven to herself and she did not want to think about how it sounded to him. "Well. We should put this into our reports."

The captain moved skittishly away from her first officer toward the almost-forgotten padds lying on the tables among the flowers. Noting that the bouquets were held together by small ties, she began to unbundle them, saving the fasteners. When she had collected several, she reached behind her and began to put her hair up.

"What are you doing that for?" he asked in disappointed surprise.

Janeway glanced at him, then down at her own feet. "I think my hair is causing trouble." In her peripheral vision she could see him approaching, and her voice became slightly too forceful. "As is just about everything on this planet."

Chakotay reached toward her and caught her hands, pulling them gently down from her head as he detached the tresses from her fingers. "Don't blame the Usonians. I've been conspiring to get your hair down for months." She turned her face up to him--she couldn't help herself--and they both froze.

For several long moments neither breathed. He bowed his head, knowing he was about to shatter the relationship they had carefully constructed since he'd joined her crew, but then, unwilling to sacrifice to duty what he suspected was an even stronger motivation, he returned his gaze to hers.

"I would ask you just to enjoy with me what this place has to offer us," he finally said softly. "But it wouldn't be fair, because I know what I'm feeling right now isn't just from being on this planet. And even if we go back to the ship without doing anything about it, I'm still going to feel it. And I think you are too."

She opened her mouth to stop him and her breath shuddered in her chest--he was right--the emotions had been wrapped inside her practically since she'd met him, this place was merely cajoling them to the surface. She tried to think about Mark and found only a fading sense of mourning. She'd already let Mark go, she realized with a jolt, if she hadn't begun to do so before she left on this mission, along with any domestic fantasies she'd ever had about life with him. In a corner of her mind she thought distractedly of how proud her hosts would be if they knew what their hospitality was propelling their guests to do. But then, if she and Chakotay remained locked in this room for the next two days, skipping all the meals, ignoring the sights and nixing communication, the natives would probably consider it the highest form of compliment.

Janeway was fighting so many impulses she couldn't form words: she wanted to get back to the ship, she wanted to race out the door and jump in the lake, she wanted to slap some sense into her second in command before they ruined their working relationship, she wanted to throw herself into his arms, knock him to the floor and let her hair spill all over him. Her instincts warned her to protect herself. But he was the one who had just taken a risk. And he was waiting, her hair still caught in his fingers, longing scrawled across his features like a letter of confession. Whatever the consequences, she owed him the truth.

"Yes," she finally managed to pronounce, moving half a step closer to him. There--now it was out in the open. For several moments they simply regarded each other in joyous relief. He started to smile, she started to smile back, he closed his eyes at the intensity, she looked down at his chest to escape the passion on his face but not before he caught the wave of desire which crossed her expression. Nostrils flaring, he swallowed as he let his own eyes travel down the length of her hair to where it spilled across the soft clothing. He seemed to be almost on the verge of tears; the notion overwhelmed her, she began to tremble as her own eyes watered. Moved, he lifted a hand to her face, and some final barrier fell. They closed the distance between them as her arms went around his waist and his other hand circled her shoulders.

She thought for a moment that he would ask formally for permission to kiss her, but he simply kept his gaze focused on hers while they continued to come slowly together, until neither could see clearly and their eyes drifted shut. The first brush of lips was cataclysmic; she had the sense that nothing would ever be the same, not for the ship, not for either of them, and it was too late to prevent it. She almost swooned and he tightened his arms around her. "Is it the flowers?" he inquired with a touch of his usual sarcasm, but the hoarseness of his voice quashed the wicked humor. She dug her fingers into him, clenching her eyes shut against the tears that still threatened to spill over.

He had been afraid and ashamed of the fierceness of his own emotions, but his resistance dissolved at her reaction. "Kathryn," he whispered and returned his mouth to hers, feeling her arms slide slowly up his chest to hold his shoulders. They kissed hesitantly, then tenderly, then playfully, then with increasing ardor as their hands slowly began to explore one another. He turned her around in his arms to lick slowly down her neck and across her upper back, embracing her abdomen and then gently stroking her breasts as she arched against him, running her hands along his thighs. She smelled wonderful, better than the blossoms strewn across the tables, and he pressed his face into her throat while she moaned and turned back toward him.

The entire room had been designed for lovemaking: they could have moved to the bed, fallen onto the great pillows in the middle of the floor, sat back onto one of the couches, sprawled across the window arch, pulled each other into the tub...instead they sank down beside the fountain, wrapping their legs around one another as they continued their slow caresses. When the voice of responsibility threatened her, Janeway thought back to that afternoon, when the music and the fire in the sky made being lost in the Delta Quadrant seem unimportant. Chakotay could not tear his eyes from her for long, which worked to his advantage, slowing him down when he was tempted to let his body's needs overwhelm him.

They spent the better part of an hour just looking and touching, moving clothing out of the way when it became a nuisance. Sitting up when the floor began to make his back ache, Chakotay lifted her up with him as he rose and edged toward the bed. They fell back onto the covers where they had spent the previous miserable evening. He laughed and she smiled in sympathetic delight, apparently reading his thoughts. "You don't want to spend another night like the last one?"

"Please, no," he replied firmly, pulling the remaining clothes away from the lower half of her body. She whimpered as his hand moved lightly down her abdomen, then slithered between her legs. Her upper thighs and pubic hair were soaked slick. "Have you been in this state all day?" he asked with an appreciative smile. Her expression--abashed, relieved, ravenous--silenced any need for further inquiry. Moving quickly down the bed, he stopped briefly to kiss her nipples and the rise of her belly, then spread open the flushed cleft with his fingers and pushed his tongue into her slowly, rubbing the swollen knot at the top with his lip. She rolled her hips at the sudden sensation and then startled them both by crying out, closing her thighs about his head while she spasmed against his mouth; her upper body thrashed uncontrollably and her fingers gripped his hair. He had never been with anyone so eagerly responsive to him, and the delight he felt at her pleasure was unexpectedly gratifying.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "I just couldn't wait..."

"Don't apologize," he murmured. "Don't ever try to hold anything back with me, okay?" She sighed assent and he dropped his head, kissing her softly, wanting to taste her again. His lips teased her until she shrieked, knocking him upward with her hips. Then he rolled her over and began to nibble his way up her back, squeezing her hips as he slid over her. "How would you like to do this?"

"I don't think there's a way I don't want to make love with you." She twisted her head around to kiss him, straining the muscles in her neck. Feeling him throb against her, she reached down between her legs to stroke him. "How about you decide this time and me the next?"

"I don't even know where to start. I want to touch you everywhere," he groaned, pulling her onto her side as he rolled that way himself. His large hands covered her breasts and belly, stroking down her thighs and then up her back under her hair; she wrapped one leg over both of his and he pressed his chest against her back while her fingers guided his probing erection into the soft folds of her sex. He curled up slightly, bending her frame with his. "Just lie here with me for a minute," he begged, wishing there was some part of her he could hold the way she was holding him exquisitely within the heat of her body. The rhythm of her breathing surged through him. He clung to her, one hand resting between her legs, the other cupping a breast, feeling almost as though he had never been in this position with a woman before. She felt wonderful but the most jolting sensations were coming from his thoughts: Kathryn Janeway, this was Kathryn Janeway he was lying with, he was inside her, he was inside her...he gripped her as if he could absorb her through his skin and keep her with him forever in this place...

She could sense the slow buildup in him despite his stillness, feel him twitching while he filled her until she ached, his fingertips brushing her most sensitive spots, his stomach pulsing into her back...she shuddered and bucked wildly as he squeezed her breasts to hold her to him, and then she was coming again, jerking against his unrelenting fingers while she convulsed around him, feeling him roll over with her, his weight crushing her breath out as he climaxed in a heated gush, sobbing into her hair. They lay still together, breathing raggedly, lost in private silence. Then, reaching for her hand, he linked his fingers through hers. "Stay with me," he whispered, rolling his weight off her without relinquishing his hold on her waist.

"I'm not going anyplace," she assured him, squeezing his hand.

"I need a minute," he said tightly, and the emotion in his voice caused goosebumps to rise along her neck. He took a deep breath which she heard catch in his throat. "It scares me, you know?"

"I know." She spoke as steadily as she could, gripping his fingers as she choked up as well. She rolled over against him, pressing her face into his chest. "It scares me too."

He nodded against the top of her head, his chin stroking her hair. Turning her face upward, she tried to smile for him, but her lips were trembling. He kissed her gently. "Your turn--take the conn," he managed, and they laughed quietly together. "It's been a long time since I did anything like this with a superior officer. I hope my sensor array is up to the task and you won't overload my warp core."

She grinned and warned throatily, "If I catch you shouting anything like 'Firing torpedos,' I'm going to vent my conduits."

"Mmmm, but I'm detecting elevated energy readouts in your generators," he stroked playfully across her breasts with one finger. "I think we'd better use a probe to make sure my adjustments to your binary phase inducers aren't causing a coolant drain."

"Seems to me that it's your plasma injector that's showing signs of leakage," she batted at him as he grabbed a pillow from above his head and swung it in her general direction. They both giggled at the ridiculousness until they were relaxed, the fierce intimacy of the minutes before replaced by tender affection. "Kiss me like you did before." He pulled her mouth open with his fingers and nibbled softly on her lower lip, then ran his tongue over her palate behind her teeth. "You're showing off."

"Did you mean kiss you where I did before?" he smiled, pressing his body suggestively against hers.

"No. My turn." She moved her mouth down the left side of his face, licking over the tattoo and down to his neck, biting gently at his bicep, sucking one nipple and then the other until they stiffened against her tongue. Her hands ran down his torso and over his buttocks, then up his back, tickling him faintly as she feathered her fingertips against his skin. Curling her fingers, she drew her nails lightly all over his back and around his hips, raising goosebumps along his sides. Her face rested against his belly, where she could smell the musk from his his groin, listening to his stomach growling faintly from all the food they had eaten that day. She jabbed her tongue into his navel and was rewarded by his wriggling around her as the sour, salty taste drove her lower. Sliding in a maddeningly slow trail across his abdomen, she kissed her way down his erection very gently while her fingers crept around his thighs to press the hard spot behind his scrotum. His hips jerked upward involuntarily and she parted her lips, enjoying his groan of surprise, letting him thrust into her mouth as her hands continued to massage his lower body.

She felt his fingers touch her neck and smiled up at him, leaving her lips pressed against the tip of his penis. "I thought it was your turn," he reminded her.

"You think I'm not enjoying this?" Her expression was wide-eyed innocence as she slurped at him quickly while one finger teased his anus, then withdrew with a chuckle as he grunted.

"Now who's showing off?"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to let you end it too soon." She swung her body around and over his, straddling him as she lowered her mouth again. He rolled her slightly to the side, moving his head between her parted thighs. She murmured impulsively, "When we get back into space, I want to make love looking out the window at the stars."

"We'll just hope no one on the planet has a good telescope," he replied in surprise, and she suddenly felt certain that it was going to happen: she could almost see the stars spread before her and feel him behind her, buried in her body. He thought that her enchanted laugh was out of proportion to the joke, but it made him smile anyway; she could feel the corners of his mouth turn up against her skin. She sucked him in a lazy rhythm, rolling her lower body gently against his face, until her neck began to cramp from the angle. Pivoting around on top of him with her hands and knees, she rubbed her sex down along the surface of his before sliding up to take him inside her.

He sat slightly, stroking her face in one hand while he let his weight rest on the other; she bent her knees and pulled her torso upright, feeling his hand fall to her breasts while one of hers reached behind her to stroke his testicles. The hand that had been caressing her breasts dropped to press against her pelvis. She gasped, not having realized she was so close to peaking again, and tried to grunt a warning to him. He let himself go, pumping rhythmically into her while her explosive moans drove him until he felt the force of his climax begin in his gut and grip all his muscles, tensing, releasing, sweat running down his chest, her long hair brushing his shoulders, making him squirm at the tickle on top of all the other sensations. Her fingernails dug hard into him as he pressed himself up into her with a roar that contrasted with her high sharp cries. He caught her when she collapsed on top of him, sliding against his wet upper body, face pressed into his neck, while he struggled to regain his breath.

When he finally could talk, Chakotay said, "I think your hair is mopping up my sweat."

"How romantic," she replied lazily, reflecting that her head was too heavy to lift nonetheless, and they both chuckled. "Should we take a bath?"

"In the morning. I'm too tired," he groaned, grinning, then tensing slightly. "Kathryn, I want to tell you..."

"What?" she asked tremulously, pulling herself up to look at him; he opened his eyes with a serious expression. They stared silently at each other for a long moment, the unsaid words hovering between them. She wanted to tell him that he had told her everything in that first moment after he said her name: it was too soon for anything else, and she pressed a fingertip against his lips carefully as if to warn him. Then she saw the gleam beginning in his dark eyes, and knew he knew it.

"Tomorrow I want to sleep late, eat some of those pink things for breakfast, and spend the rest of the morning licking the juice off you."

"Mmmm."

"Then I want to take you to the shore of the inland sea and show you the reefs and get sand in your hair. And then I want to come back here, sit in front of the fire, and tell you about the first time I ever had an out-of-body experience." She smiled in delight. "What do you want to do tomorrow?"

"I can't think that far ahead. Right now I want you to roll over so I can fall asleep pressed against your back." She dropped against him, pushing him over as her arms went around his waist. "Are you with me?" she added.

His hands came up to clutch her fingers against his chest. "You're not getting rid of me," he promised her, wondering if that litany were as close as they were going to come to what he had almost said the moment before. For the time being, it was enough. They drifted off quickly and slept long after the sun had risen. The magistrates finished breakfast without them.

It was not until he heard the Vulcan speak that Chakotay realized the chirping which had woken him was a communicator rather than an insect. "Tuvok to Janeway," the voice repeated insistently, "please respond, Captain." Chakotay scrambled off the bed to find the dress she'd worn the night before, to which her comm badge was still attached. He looked for a regretful moment at her face relaxed in sleep, then closed his hand over her shoulder as the message repeated once again. She sat up like a startled animal and took the communicator instinctively.

"Janeway here. Tuvok, what is it?"

"We appear to have a...situation, Captain, but it is under control. One of the Voyager crewmembers stole away from his shore party and apparently came into contact with a number of this planet's inhabitants. He did not wish to leave even when the Usonians requested that he do so, and had to be restrained in order to be transported back to the ship. I thought you would want to be informed."

"Yes, Tuvok, thank you," she sighed, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Keep close tabs on all the landing parties. As soon as engineering reports in, I think it's best if we began to recall all our people from the surface."

"That would seem to be a wise precaution," the security officer noted as Janeway glanced at Chakotay to see what he thought. He nodded ruefully.

"I'll get in touch with Lieutenant Torres and have her report back to you. Janeway out." She let her eyes move leisurely down her fiirst officer's naked body before tapping the badge again. "Janeway to Torres. Good morning, Lieutenant. What's our status there?"

"We've gathered about as much as our cargo bays can contain, Captain," Torres reported, sounding pleased. "Right now we're collecting our equipment and cataloguing everything for transport back to the ship. Kes and the biologists have taken over another storage hold for the soil samples they've accumulated, but I think we're going to be in good shape when we're ready to go."

"Good, because we're going to try to leave orbit by thirteen hundred hours," Janeway said, regretting that the chief engineer probably would not have had a moment's leave. "I owe you a few days off, B'Elanna. But right now I need you to start returning your people to the ship, and to make sure all our materials make it up there too."

"Understood, Captain." If Torres resented the added workload, she covered well; she had been struggling to impress Janeway with her dedication, and was certainly not going to create a stir over not getting to explore a pretty planet. "I'll report in when we've gotten engineering ready to depart."

"So much for our day at the beach," Chakotay shook his head as Janeway broke the link. "I wondered whether something like this would happen--someone not wanting to leave."

"Well, we'd better go quickly, or he won't be the only one." She wrapped her arms around her legs as she drew them up to her body. "Maybe we should have left yesterday. Things would seem a lot simpler."

"Are you sorry?" He folded his arms over hers to pull her against him.

"Not sorry, just guilty," she said. "We sent our people off to work while we spent two days in selfish bliss. No, it's worse than that. I got these people stuck in the Delta Quadrant, away from their loved ones, and I go and..." She exhaled hard. "Well, we can't go back to the ship like this. I just hope no one figures out what we've been up to."

"Research," he rejoindered lightly, running a finger down her leg. "This planet values pleasure above all else, and we took it upon ourselves to experience every form of pleasure at our disposal. Very scientific of us, don't you think?"

"I think," she stretched in his arms, "that we should take that bath now. And eat those berries." He murmured a pleasantly surprised affirmation. "But then we have to figure out what happened to the clothes we wore down here, and make our apologies to the magistrates, and get back to the ship...and do our jobs for a couple of days, and see if we can make this work, and agree to treat each other with respect and camaraderie if we can't." He kissed the back of her neck and released her from his embrace. Swinging his legs off the bed and standing up, he offered a hand to assist her. "Thank you for not pushing anything," she sighed.

"Thank you for not trying to end anything," he replied. "I would always treat you with respect and camaraderie, no matter what happened between us. Or didn't happen. And we have a lot of time for things to happen." Glancing at her grateful expression, he could not help getting a grin in his eyes. "Except right now," he added. "Don't you think it would be a lot faster if we ate the berries in the tub? Then we could just wash each other off when you drip juice all over the place."

"Research," she repeated, following as he pulled her across the room. "We may as well be able to complete our reports."

They were the last crewmembers to beam up to the ship.