AN: In the middle of Latent Image, there is a thirty second throw-away conversation on the bridge between Janeway, Chakotay, and Tuvok, concerning the outcome of the Seventy-Seventh Emperor's Cup. And in the midst of this, we find out that Janeway and Chakotay crossed paths once before, without realizing they had done so.

=/\=

"I was there."

In the dark, he stumbled over the words as they abruptly appeared before him. It was not the presence of her words that surprised him. No, he heard her words in his mind all the time, sometimes long after she had forgotten how to say them. He paused, midstride in his quarters as his mind caught up with his memory.

It was not her words that had caused him to start. It was his response.

"So was I."

Chakotay brought his feet together, standing and staring intensely at the starfield. The Seventy-Seventh Emperor's Cup had been fifteen years ago. He barely remembered anything except the outcome. He searched his mind, drudging up the watery faces of the two friends he had gone with – surnames long forgotten and voices no longer accessible to his memory. And yet –

And yet –

She had been there. A fifth row seat.

In the bowl-shaped arena, he had sat much higher in the stands; he vaguely recalled some difficulty in getting tickets early. And at that height, he had to have seen her. Had to have done.

Chakotay paced over to a chair and sat in it tensely. His whole body was taut with the effort to remember. And it was important that he remember.

Closed eyes. He had seen videos of the fight after the fact; he'd watched it a few times in the days following the match, and he recalled showing it to Mike Ayala once years later. A chuckle came, unbidden. He and Mike had been trying to convince a couple of drunken young man to sumo wrestle; the match had sadly not impressed them enough to warrant a subsequent fight. Really, you were as bad as Tom Paris, he chastised himself.

Eyes open and refocus. If he had watched the match that many times, he really had to have seen her. How could he have missed that long gold-red hair, bright eyes, and slim figure?

And yet he couldn't remember.

And it bothered him deeply.

Destiny was a bit of a big concept for Chakotay to swallow, but he was convinced that people met at the right times, and wrong times, missed appointments, and changed their minds all to the tune of some bigger dance the universe was doing. The Delta Quadrant, Voyager, and each person on this ship convinced him of that. He was definitely supposed to be here, with these people, finding a way home. And Kathryn… Yes, he was definitely supposed to be with Kathryn on some level. It wasn't just ego stroking when he told himself this, it was true. They worked together. There was synergy between them.

And so it bothered him immensely that he had been in the same room with her, watching the same fight, enjoying the same entertainment, breathing the same air, and cheering together, and not remember her.

Or maybe the universe really wasn't that sophisticated.

No, it was.

Maybe they weren't supposed to meet yet.

He didn't like the answer, but he could swallow it.

Still. Still, he wished he could remember. He devoutly wished that he could close his eyes, conjure up that ring and fight and glance to the side and see Kathryn Janeway. Long hair and bright eyes and slim, delicate figure emanating energy. He wished he could remember seeing that image, stopping for a moment, and just thinking: Damn. Look at that woman.

But he couldn't. So maybe the universe just wasn't that kind.

Chakotay knew he wouldn't sleep well, so instead of trying to get to sleep, he idly picked up a padd with B'Elanna's engineering report. The sentences blurred, the words lost meaning. And he sat there, staring out at the starfield and trying to remember something that he had never forgotten.

=/\=

She staggered out of the holodeck and made it several exhausted paces down the hallway before his voice spoke into her battered brain.

"So was I."

Janeway felt her headache double its pounding and she automatically reached for the wall to support her. He had been there.

No. She would have seen him, surely?

She closed her eyes and shook her head gently, trying to clear it. Too many hours of wakefulness, chilled skin from the cool holodeck, a sore shoulder from slumping in that chair all pulled at her, urging her to go to bed and get some sleep. She didn't have that many hours before she had to be on the bridge anyway.

The carpet sunk slightly under her feet as she continued towards the turbolift. She could walk the corridors of Voyager blindfolded, which meant that the images intruding on her mind's eye now did not slow her efforts to gain her quarters.

She had gone to the Emperor's Cup alone. Single though she had been, the Cup had not exactly been a move to find anyone. Still, she had gotten there early in the evening. Dim memories of punctuated faces and voices flitted around her, bringing with them the dim light of the arena, with the central brightness swirling down on the ring itself. Nobody special enough to create a lasting impression.

From the fifth row, she had claimed a commanding view of the deep arena, and she held an indistinct memory of the way faces had been looking down towards her, arms raised, voices ringing. Surely she had seen him. He had to have been in that sea of faces.

The turbolift opened, and she called for Deck three.

Janeway was absolutely certain that, had she and Chakotay randomly been tossed into a large room with hundreds of people now, they would find each other. Within seconds. She knew his voice: that deep, semi-edged cello. Even among dozens of shouting people, she would single it out. And besides that knowledge – and against all her scientific logic – she and Chakotay fit together. Now that they were, well, whatever they were, there was not a possible way they couldn't carry on in that same awareness of each other.

And yet they had not seen each other. It frustrated her, in some maddening way she couldn't quite put her finger on.

When the lift opened, she found herself ringing Chakotay's door chime rather than seeking refuge in her own darkened quarters. Her pounding head loudly inquired what the hell she thought she was doing. She had no good answer for it – she was just…well, Chakotay. She didn't know if she needed to see him, wanted to see him, what, just - Chakotay. She Chakotay. His name, at that moment, kind of meant all of those things and tens more.

The door slid open, and Janeway found Chakotay looking at her with a lopsided grin. Unbidden, her words slipped out again. "I was there."

"So was I."

The conversation was three days ago. Buried now under the strain of the Doctor's program going awry, the rekindled pain of losing a crewmember, and the messy drawers of old decisions rummaged through to find reasons. But of course he knew exactly what she was talking about.

His smile grew. "I've been trying to remember it. If you were really sitting in the fifth row, I must have seen you."

Janeway's tired face found its own smile – the one that formed of its own will in response to Chakotay's. "I know. And I was there for nearly two hours before the match started; I had to have seen you."

He shrugged and stepped closer in the dim light. "I wish I could say I remember seeing you." The hard emphasis not included in his statement echoed off the cabin walls and into her ears.

"I wish I could say I remember seeing you," she answered, letting her own thoughts join his on the ceiling.

Below, Chakotay tipped his head to the side. "You've got a fever," he said with no segue whatsoever.

Janeway blinked. "What?"

He raised a hand and brushed his knuckles across her forehead. "You have a fever."

"When did you become a human thermometer?"

He didn't answer, but moved to the table and picked up the glass of ice water he had been drinking. He came back and pressed it to her forehead, grinning at her. "It's one of the side-effects of my First Officer Alarm."

"Your what?" Janeway asked blearily, her eyes closed and forehead rejoicing in the chilled glass.

"A ridiculous internal alarm that goes off whenever you need something." He stooped down and continued in a conspiratorial whisper. "Unless you're telepathic and haven't mentioned it."

"Mm-mmm."

"How's your headache?"

She sighed. "I hate you."

"No you don't."

"You are being far too happy for this late at night."

He chuckled. "We've stayed up later that this, Kathryn. In fact, I recall one night a few months ago where we talked until 0430."

Janeway sighed and opened her eyes, reaching for the glass. She asked him silently if she could drink the water.

"Of course."

"You're incorrigible, Chakotay," she informed him, draining the glass. "And you're the best damn first officer any captain has ever had."

He took the glass and set it on the table, then took ahold of her arm and led her out of his quarters and ten steps down the corridor to her own, keying in the code. "Well, since you're the best damn captain I've ever had we'll call it even."

Janeway looked up at Chakotay and gave him an exhausted, but genuine, smile. "You've proven your point."

"Have I?"

"About us both being in that arena."

There was gentle pressure on her arm that slid down and fitted into her hand. "I would find you in less than a minute, Kathryn."

"Only if I didn't find you first," she returned, gently curling her fingers around the comforting pressure in her hand.

They stood for a moment, her half-asleep and him still wracking his brains. And then her left knee gave out and he caught her and steadied that dear slim frame of hers.

"Bed," he said firmly, and walked her to the bedroom door, put her hands on the doorframe, and gave her a good-night smile.

She watched his tall, broad silhouette leave her quarters, and then turned and walked the two feet to her bed, kicking off her boots and crawling right under the covers.

"Believe me, I was there."

"So was I."

Never again, Kathryn Janeway mused, could she not be aware of him in any way. She needed Chakotay. She liked Chakotay. She relied on Chakotay. She smiled because of Chakotay. She was not captain without Chakotay. She - just – Janeway Chakotay. Yes. That was it. Janeway Chakotay.

And in her sleep and fever-befuddled mind, it made perfect sense.

=/\=

Thank you for reading! In other news: why was JC talking about sumo wrestling on the bridge in the first place?