Set during Caretaker, after Kathryn destroys the array but before Tom is granted his lieutenant position.
Impressions
The door chime rang as Kathryn headed to the replicator. Making a slight detour, she moved to the panel next to the door and hit the button to manually open it.
Chakotay stood outside her quarters, hands clasped behind his back, averting his gaze to the ground until the doors slid open to reveal her standing in the entryway.
Swallowing hard, he took in her appearance. She wore a long, peach-colored satin nightgown with a matching three-quarter sleeve robe. Her feet were bare, and her hair fell loosely around her shoulders and cascaded down her back.
Kathryn stared at him as well, surprised to see him at this late hour. He was still dressed in his Maquis leathers, which she had to admit complemented his muscular physique. His eyes were dark and a little brooding, and she found herself gazing into them for a few seconds too long.
"Mister Chakotay," she finally said, stepping away from the door and gesturing for him to enter her quarters. "What can I do for you?"
Chakotay followed her inside. "I thought about what you said," he replied, glancing around the room.
She looked at him expectantly. "And?"
"And I accept your offer," he said, turning back to her. "I think it makes a lot of sense."
Kathryn gave him a small smile. "I'm glad you feel that way." She moved to her desk and picked up a padd, and began typing a few notes. "As of tomorrow, you'll be granted the field position of Commander."
"And my crew?" he asked, taking a step towards her.
She tossed the padd back on the desk. "We'll discuss your crew tomorrow, but know that they'll be placed according to their abilities. I'm sure they have a variety of skills to offer." He nodded. "I'll also make sure you and your crew have replicator access to replicate the appropriate uniforms."
Chakotay looked down at himself and smirked. "I think I like this one better, to be honest." Noticing his boot had become uncuffed, he bent down to fix it.
"Yes, well, if this is to be a Starfleet ship, then we'll wear Starfleet uniforms. Plus, not all of us look that good in leather," she quipped.
He glanced up and caught her staring at him. She averted her eyes quickly and moved around him towards the sofa.
"I'm sure you'd look good in leather," he replied smoothly under his breath, but unintentionally loud enough for her to hear. He stood, not taking his eyes off her as he did so.
Kathryn stopped in her tracks but did not turn around. "Is there anything else, Mister Chakotay?" she asked, ignoring his comment and crossing her arms over her chest.
"Actually, there is."
Taking a deep breath, she spun around slowly to face him. "Yes?"
Chakotay stood back up and clasped his hands behind his back once more. "It's about Tom Paris."
Kathryn took another sharp inhale. "Well, this conversation could last all night," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?"
"Whiskey, if you have it," he said, not missing a beat. Noticing she was slightly taken aback by his request, he added, "It's been a rough couple of days, don't you think?"
The thin lines of her lips curled into a small smile. Without saying a word, she breezed past him towards the cabinet in the corner of the room. Opening the bottom door, she pulled out a large bottle of Irish whiskey and two glasses.
"Of course I have whiskey," Kathryn huffed, placing the glasses on the table. "Any self-respecting Irish girl does." She then grunted slightly, trying to get the cork out of the bottle.
"And now I know where you keep it. Here, let me." Chakotay grabbed the neck of the bottle, brushing over her delicate hand in the process. Kathryn took a step back, a bit startled by his touch.
After he poured the whiskey, they moved to the sofa. She cleared her throat. "So, Tom Paris," she continued, taking a sip from her glass.
"Yes. I, uh… I just want to make sure there's not going to be any trouble. He's a troublemaker, you know," Chakotay replied.
Kathryn snorted. "I'm aware. I am very close with his father." Chakotay looked up at her and raised a curious eyebrow. "I served under him for a long time. We were both captured by the Cardassians when I was an ensign." Her eyes grew dark and she averted them quickly, opting to take another large sip of whiskey.
"Cardassians?" he asked, shifting on the couch.
"Yes," she replied, turning slightly to gaze out the viewport. "We were orbiting Utrea II as part of the Arias Expedition. It was a year-long science mission. And we were captured. Held in a Cardassian prison. Owen was…"
Kathryn trailed off and squeezed her eyes shut, clearly troubled by the memory.
"You don't need to say any more," Chakotay offered, placing his whiskey glass on the coffee table gently.
Opening her eyes, now pricked with tears, she turned slowly towards him. "Owen was tortured. I… I somehow managed to not get beat up too badly. Luckily, Starfleet sent their rangers in to rescue us. But it was..." She stopped again, unable to provide any words for her harrowing experience.
Chakotay's heart tightened at her emotional narrative. He reached out and placed a tentative hand on her arm. "The Cardassians destroyed my colony on Dorvan V. They slaughtered my family. It's the reason I joined the Maquis."
Kathryn sucked in a breath. "Yes, I… I read your file before leaving for the badlands. I'm sorry."
He retracted his hand and nodded. They sat in silence for a few moments before Chakotay spoke again. "Amazing how Tom Paris can cause trouble even when he's not in the room," he said, smirking and running a hand through his raven black hair. "I'm sorry this conversation took a strange turn."
"It's okay," Kathryn replied, stifling a chuckle. "Looks like we just have one more thing in common."
"Not a very nice thing," he answered, giving her a longways glance. "But yes."
They stared at each other, each one wondering how this partnership was going to work with the other. Each one with doubts, fears, and worries — but also a sense of mystery, excitement, and perhaps even attraction that stunned them both.
"I better go," Chakotay finally said, standing up and moving to the recycler with their empty glasses. "Thank you for the whiskey and for the talk."
"Anytime," she replied. She also stood and tugged her robe tighter around herself. "And just let me know if Mr. Paris causes any...issues. He's a troublemaker, but he's usually a harmless one."
Chakotay paused in the doorway to give her a quick onceover and smiled. "I look forward to working with you, Captain."
"Likewise," replied Kathryn, noticing for the first time the dimples sneaking up to his cheeks.
fin
