In an alternate reality, Voyager was unsuccessful in retrieving the vaccine from the Vidiians and rescuing the Captain and Chakotay at the end of Resolutions. Tuvok continued to lead the crew home to the Alpha Quadrant, in as logical a manner as possible. Meanwhile, Janeway and Chakotay continued their lives on New Earth. This story picks up right at the end of the big "defining parameters" conversation near the end of Resolutions. Everything coincides with the canon timeline, albeit with new fresh scenes, until near the end of part one, when they go inside to look at the boat designs but Voyager never contacts them.
Kathryn and Chakotay looked at each other across the table, their fingers interlaced, a couple tears running down her cheek. She was outwardly calm despite the tears, but inside she was reeling. When she'd come out of the half-closed-off sleeping quarters, after escaping his enticing presence on pretense of needing to go to bed, she'd expected them to decide that he could never again massage her shoulders, that maybe they would avoid touching each other at all, to prevent them turning to physical comfort and then regretting it later.
She had most certainly not expected this thinly veiled confession of love. Love? Was that truly what he was saying? It certainly seemed like it. At the very least, it was a confession of extreme devotion.
He reached his other hand out and wiped the tears away. "I didn't mean to make you cry."
Instinctively, she leaned her face in and nuzzled his hand. "No, don't apologize. That story was probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me."
Encouraged, he rose from his seat, shuffling his way around the end of the table, fingers still laced with hers, other hand still on her cheek, eyes in constant contact with hers. Once he had cleared the table, he crouched before her chair. "Then let me be more direct, Kathryn. I know you've been desperate to find a way to leave New Earth and rejoin Voyager. I know you've felt like I settled here too easily and I know you're terribly disappointed that all your work was destroyed in the storm today. But the only reason I've been content to stay here is that, however much I want to return, I want nothing so much as to be with you, whatever that might look like and wherever it might be." Her eyes searched his as he took a deep breath and added, "And, to speak even more plainly . . . I love you, Kathryn. I have loved you almost since I've known you."
Kathryn stared at him in wonder, fighting the urge to lean forward and kiss him. Instead she unlaced her fingers from his, removed his other hand from her cheek, and held both of them loosely before her. "You're talking about a huge shift in dynamics. I'm not saying no mind you-in fact, I want to say yes. It's just..." The corner of her mouth twitched. "Just give me a few days on that one, okay?"
A strange look passed over his face-an unusual combination of disappointment and hope. But then, as he recognized her words as echoes of his own when they'd first arrived, in reference to calling her Kathryn, he chuckled. "It's a deal, on the condition that you don't expect me to spend those days acting like nothing has happened."
She smiled back. "I expect nothing of the kind.'' Then, standing and drawing him to his feet, she added, "But! Right now I think we both need sleep." A small, involuntary laugh escaped her lips. "If such a thing is possible after a conversation like that."
He smiled, lifted both her hands to kiss her knuckles, then said, "I've got just the thing." Finally and somewhat reluctantly releasing her hands, he walked to the replicator and said, "Computer, two mugs of Chakotay tea 1."
Kathryn tilted her head and quirked an eyebrow, trying to hide her smirk as she teased, "Chakotay tea 1? I don't believe I remember a drink by that name."
He brought the mugs over, handing one to her. "My own recipe. A simple warm milk toddy combined with a traditional calming tea my people drink, plus a touch of vanilla, cinnamon, and a couple other seasonings."
She inhaled the aroma deeply, then took a sip. "Thank you Chakotay. It's delicious." After an awkward moment she added, "Well . . . goodnight.'' Then she turned and took the mug with her to bed.
...
Chakotay sat at the computer working on designs and trying-unsuccessfully-not to think about Kathryn. About their conversation more than a week earlier that he'd replayed a thousand times in his head. About how he'd sat at the table after, nursing his tea and surreptitiously watching her through the sheer screen that separated their beds from the rest of the shelter. As far as he could tell by the shadow, she had sat up with both hands wrapped around the mug as she sipped the tea, except occasionally lifting one hand to the headboard. She finished her drink long after he'd finished his, and his was cold by the time he took his last swallow. It was clear she'd finished it by the way she had to tip her head, but she continued to hold the mug, sometimes staring down at it, sometimes staring off into the distance. Once or twice she'd tried to drink more, realized the mug was empty, and gone back to staring.
Eventually she had slept, but he couldn't bring himself to go to his bed. Falling asleep in a bed so near hers seemed like a nearly impossible task. The next morning, she'd awoken him, with a hand on his shoulder, from where he'd fallen asleep at the table.
And so the subsequent week and more had passed. She'd been more affectionate, more relaxed, or perhaps his imagination just told him she was. She'd touched him more often too-he was sure he hadn't imagined that. Sometimes she'd even been subtly flirtatious. But he wanted more, always wanted more, and knowing that she was warming up to the idea was making him extremely impatient. So to distract himself he was working on another design, something for himself and for her at the same time. He double checked a couple calculations, knowing that her brilliant mind would probably catch the slightest problem and she'd want to help fix it. As with the bathtub and the headboard, he wanted this to be something he did to please her. A final input to the computer, then he went outside to find her digging in the dirt yet again.
She was weeding her Talaxian tomatoes. Apparently Neelix had sneaked some seeds into the supplies beamed down to them before Voyager had left orbit. They joked a bit about this contrast to her usual distaste for nature, then he invited her to come inside to see "something."
He felt like a proud child showing off a crayon scribble, eager for her to see the design he'd made but afraid she wouldn't like it.
His trepidation was unnecessary. Her eyes lit up as soon as she saw it. "A boat!" She turned her gorgeous smile to him as he explained his hope that this could aid in her desire to explore the river.
She wiped her dirt-covered hands on a towel as she excitedly added, "We could go camping!"
Chakotay felt the corner of his mouth twitch into a partial smile. This from the woman who readily admitted to always having hated camping. "I'm not sure we could fit the bathtub in the boat."
She laughed. "That's okay, I'll have the river!"
He tried to put the image of her skinny dipping in the river out of his mind. Instead he said, "It sounds fabulous."
"Anyway," she continued, "I'll still have the bathtub to come home to."
They both paused and looked at each other as they realized what she'd said. "Home. When did that happen, Chakotay? When did this place start to feel like home?"
He gazed at her for a moment, weighing his next words carefully, wondering if the timing was right. Then he said it anyway. "I don't know when it did for you. But for me it was home from the very beginning. Just as Voyager was almost from the beginning. Because you were there."
Her eyes widened, and for a moment he feared he had ruined everything. That he'd pushed too much when she wasn't ready yet.
Instead, she took a step closer to him. Stared into his eyes for a moment. Slowly, almost tentatively, reached her hand up to his cheek. He slowly reached his arm around her waist and dared to pull her even closer. Neither looked down, but their other hands other found each other, and their fingers laced together as they had that night a week ago. Kathryn leaned her face toward his, and he moved his own head down, eager for this relationship to finally progress. As their lips touched, she finally broke their gaze as her lids fluttered shut, and she pressed her lips harder against his, standing on tiptoes to reach his height and eagerly drinking him in. But he kept his eyes open, not wanting to miss one expression on what he could still see of her face. He had waited too long for this to risk missing a single moment.
As their kiss moved from the initial tentative touches into a deeper expression of the love he now knew they shared, she released his hand and moved both arms around his neck, fingers playing in the back of his hair as she pressed her body against his. He wrapped his free arm around her waist with the other arm, then suddenly lifted her and spun her around. She broke the kiss to laugh, the most delighted laugh he'd ever heard from that delicious mouth. As he stopped spinning and set her back down, they gazed at one another again, mirror images of both relief and exuberance.
In her husky voice that he had long loved so much, she nearly whispered, "I do love you, Chakotay. So much."
In response, he bent his head to kiss her forehead, her cheek, her other cheek, her nose, then once again full on her mouth. Her mouth was ready and waiting to respond.