AN:This story is dedicated to ArgyleTrekkie and northernexposure

It's a sequel to 'Hidden Talents' by the hugely talented northernexposure; if you haven't already read it, then go read it now! It's in my favourites list. I promise you won't regret it. There are several shout-outs to it in this chapter.

Massive thanks to northernexposure for suggesting I write this, for the beta read, and for her incredibly useful suggetions. And another big thank you to Photogirl1890 for her invaluable typo check.

The rest of the story is written, so it shouldn't be too long before I can post it.

I haven't written any fanfic in over a year because… reasons, so I really hope this isn't a disappointment to anyone who enjoyed my other stories. Reviews or comments are obviously always very welcome.

Turning Point

One of the most striking things about the reception was the choice of illumination; nothing but candles. Modern candles on the bar, traditional wax candles on the tables, and lamps with candles hanging from the low roof of the beach-front restaurant.

Beneath his feet, well-seasoned wooden decking stretched out across the room. His gaze travelled its full length, past the point where the roof overhead ended and moonlight reflected off the polished surface of the floorboards. The tropical night air around him still held some of the warmth of what must have been a steaming hot day. Occasionally, fresher gusts pushed their way in off the dark sea to gatecrash the reception. After ten weeks of recycled air, the slight breeze smelled divine to his heightened senses.

Small groups of guests were scattered around, some sitting, some standing. There was animated conversation, easy laughter and frequent movement between the groups. In the short time that he'd been there leaning against the bar, several people had already introduced themselves, engaging him in conversation as they'd passed. They seemed to be a welcoming and sociable crowd.

To Chakotay's left, there was a slightly raised stage area where a band of musicians were just playing the final bars of a percussion-based number with an infectious Latin beat. His fingers drummed gently against the bar and his toe tapped in time with the music. The band members took a bow, accepting the appreciative applause of the guests with wide smiles.

The musicians set down their instruments, stepping down from the stage to wander across to where the decking stretched out under the stars. A small girl slipped quickly past them, holding above her head one of the elegant table decorations, trailing it out behind her like a blue and silver comet. A little boy followed her, trying to grasp it and failing. She was too quick and nimble for him. 'Twas ever thus, Chakotay thought with a wry smile. The little girl did one more circle of the moonlit dance floor with her sparkling streak of colour, then darted off down the steps that lead directly onto the beach, the small boy still in tow.

It was impossible not to notice the striking artistic flair of the blue and silver ocean-themed decorations adorning the walls and tables. Together with the candlelight, the music and the flow of laughter and conversation, they added to the atmosphere of relaxed sophistication.

Fitting, Chakotay thought.

He'd arrived on time. The family party had yet to make their entrance.

He was still a little surprised to find himself here. When he'd received the invitation, it had seemed very unlikely that he'd be able to make it. He'd accepted that perhaps a little more easily than he should have. But then it seemed the universe had other ideas. It just so happened that the date had coincided with a two-day maintenance stopover in spacedock for Voyager, and B'Elanna had been in touch twice to check he was coming, so here he was. The location had also tempted him. He'd always wanted to go the northern cays, and now that there was a transporter station on this island, getting to Playa Perla Blanca had been easy.

The flute of champagne he'd been handed on arrival seemed to be empty already, so he turned towards the bar. One more would be good, just enough to take the edge off his sobriety. Because they would all be here any minute. He looked towards the entrance again, his discomfort getting the better of him for a moment. He was here, and he would play his part, but he didn't relish the prospect of seeing Kathryn Janeway in the arms of another man.

Chakotay obviously had no right to comment. He had made his bed... He closed his eyes briefly and exhaled. This train of thought was not new. The irony of the timing wasn't lost on him. For years he had intended to be first in line to ask Kathryn out on a romantic date the moment they made it back, but things just hadn't worked out that way. He had no idea what Kathryn had thought about his brief relationship with Seven. She'd never said a word about it. In fairness, it was all over before she would have been obliged to acknowledge it. Seven had called it off at the homecoming ball. Decisively. Efficiently. And he hadn't been all that surprised or distraught. He had cared for her deeply, he still did, but he hadn't been in love with her and she could tell. True, Kathryn had never let him know what she thought about it, but his gut, as well as his failure to mention it to Kathryn himself, told him that it wasn't something she would have welcomed.

It wasn't as if he had ever turned down the chance of a relationship with Kathryn Janeway in favour of exploring one with Seven – which, according to Sekaya, was just one of the many stories about Voyager's personnel touted in the media since their return. The truth was that Kathryn had never opened that particular door. Or rather she'd pushed it gently shut after they'd fallen through it accidentally the only time he'd ever kissed her – and she'd most definitely kissed him back – one memorable evening when they'd been dancing together on the holodeck. Even though it was years ago now, he'd found himself thinking about it as he'd made his way to the restaurant. Hardly surprising, since these were the very islands that were once home to the music and the dance that had played a part in their passionate encounter during that short and steamy salsa session.

These days, whenever he began thinking about his personal life, memories of Kathryn Janeway surfaced pretty soon, usually as some sort of benchmark against which to measure potential partners. More irony? Sure, in some ways, but not in others. For the greater part of their seven year journey, he'd been convinced that a more intimate relationship with her held the promise of a lifetime of untold potential. So was it really so strange now to want to find a prospective relationship that seemed to offer equal promise?

In the first few weeks after their explosive re-entry into the Alpha Quadrant, Chakotay had been on the receiving end of plenty of attention, and he had enjoyed unwinding in the evening a few times with attractive female company. A couple of the women he had met had made it clear they wanted to see him again, but he simply hadn't been able to drum up the requisite enthusiasm to arrange any second dates. One of them in particular had struck him as a lovely person, lively and attractive. Cherry? Sherry? Cheryl maybe… She had even shared his interest in anthropology. But a week passed and he still hadn't called her, so he gave himself a talking to. He made a mental list of the reasons he should want to call her. Hardly an auspicious start. Needless to say, he didn't call. Despite their best efforts, none of the women he had dated had managed to get under his skin or get his nerve endings jangling even a fraction of the way Kathryn Janeway had for years by barely lifting a finger.

Chakotay actually envied Kathryn's optimism; he envied her ability to entertain new beginnings in her personal life. Of course she deserved to be happy, so for that reason he would swallow the undeniable waves of disappointment, washing down with them the surprisingly intense surges of jealousy that threatened his peace of mind whenever he thought about the fact that she had found someone with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life.

If he'd spent more time thinking about this beforehand, he might have made an effort to come with a date of his own; there was Kathryn's situation and there was also the fact that he didn't expect to know many people. But the life he had chosen meant that he had been busy 24/7 with ship's business until about an hour before he left, so, here he was, propping up the bar on his own.

He accepted a refill, straightening the cuffs of his white shirt as the bartender poured the champagne. The dark grey suit he'd chosen for the occasion felt good. It was always worth getting them sent over from that Italian tailor. There was something about the way the jacket of a handmade suit sat over his shoulders that always felt far better than any replicated garment.

Instinctively he turned towards the sound of voices and laughter in the entrance. The family party was arriving. He took a sip of champagne and waited for them to filter in.

He'd had the dubious pleasure of being introduced to Kathryn's partner not long after they'd starting dating. For some reason he couldn't fathom now, it hadn't occurred to him at the time that Kathryn would be serious about the relationship. Even so, he had still been instantly jealous of the man, and he'd suspected Kathryn could tell. The introduction had been a strain, but he'd gotten through it with his dignity more or less intact.

He reminded himself again that he was honoured to have been included in what was a joyous family occasion for Kathryn tonight. He'd try harder this time to keep a lid on things. He'd done it, more or less, the first time. Maybe it would get easier with practise.

XxX

Except, actually, it didn't.

The minute Kathryn and her fiancé walked in behind the bride and groom, it hit Chakotay just how much harder this was going to be.

Kathryn was dressed in rich midnight blue, her hair in an elegant up-do. Even though others in the party were half-masking her from his line of vision, to Chakotay she looked so very appealing. He could see enough of her to notice the hint of colour warming the dusting of freckles that spread down her elegant neck to her defined upper arms. And the dark circles that had once taken up more or less permanent residence under her eyes were long gone. She looked at once achingly familiar and even better than he remembered. He barely noticed her tall, blonde escort.

But then those around her shifted, affording Chakotay an unobstructed view of her whole outfit.

His jaw went instantly slack as his brain stalled.

There was no doubt about it; she was wearing an exact replica of that dress. The whole damn outfit actually. Right down to the sheer black pantyhose accentuating her toned calf muscles and the black patent heels that added a tantalising tilt to her hips. The only difference was that tonight's dress was a shimmering midnight blue and the other had been black. It was a very distinctive look, and it wasn't as if he was likely to forget, even though it had been five years. As his gaze swept over the garment from where it crossed in a 'v' shape just above her cleavage, his mind was flooded with vivid memories of running his hands over the sheer fabric, mapping the dips and curves of her lithe body. Everything about her was a deep blue ghost of that night on the holodeck – that particularly memorable night. Instinctively he clenched his fists as his traitorous hand recalled exactly how her hipbone had felt pressing into his palm while his other hand had slid down to cup the curve of her perfect backside, pulling her flush against his body as they'd devoured one another in a frenzy of passionate chaos…

For a second he felt almost dizzy.

What…? Why?

Why on earth would she choose to wear this, and have him invited here to watch her walk in on the arm of another man? The man who was, he'd been told a few weeks earlier, now her fiancé.

He swallowed a desperate mouthful of champagne.

Why on earth would she want to walk in as the reincarnation of the Kathryn of that fantasy-made-a-little-too-real evening? He could feel his blood rising as more questions buzzed through his head. What was she playing at? Was this amusing for her? Was she toying with him, to see if he would react?

He watched her as she laughed at something her fiancé said. Then he took a deep breath and checked himself, dragging his gaze away from her. He shook his head as he exhaled.

Idiot. Get a grip.

Kathryn Janeway's world did not revolve around him. It never had, and it most certainly didn't now.

Far more likely that she had simply remembered the outfit because she liked it. None of them had had much time for off-duty clothing during those years in the Delta Quadrant. His own civilian micro-wardrobe from that time had barely filled half of one small transit unit when they'd packed for disembarkation. Far more likely that it had occurred to Kathryn that the outfit would be perfect for this Caribbean evening with live Latin music, so she chose to recreate it. More likely that she hadn't given a second thought to the circumstances in which she'd worn it the first time, or to him. She was engaged, and anyway, it was five years ago. Five and a half years ago to be exact. This was his problem, not hers.

Deal with it, man.

Chakotay took another deep breath in and squared his shoulders. Then he made his way decisively over towards his former captain and her partner. He would not lurk in the shadows avoiding this. To do so would be to fail to meet the basic expectations he had of himself; namely to make his way through life with a certain level of grace and courage in all things.

"Kathryn," he greeted her warmly, gently clasping her elbow and leaning in to kiss her cheek. His lips lingered there a fraction longer than they should, as he took the opportunity to breathe in her scent. (He aspired to grace and courage, not saintliness.)

Drawing back, he checked himself yet again and regrouped. "It's good to see you. You look stunning."

Shining eyes smiled up at him. "You always did scrub up pretty well yourself. I'm so glad you were able to come."

Her fiancé shifted slightly where he stood. Kathryn turned his way. "Chakotay, you remember Guy Baldwin."

Chakotay extended his hand. "Good to see you again."

"Likewise." Baldwin's handshake was brusque and gelid.

Chakotay fought a cruel and irrational urge to crush the man's long fine-boned fingers.

"How's life among the stars treating you, Captain?"

The surprisingly high pitch of Guy Baldwin's voice didn't seem to marry with his appearance. He was very tall, several centimetres taller than Chakotay, and he was handsome and poised. His wavy blonde hair was swept back neatly off his fine features and he had an aura of effortless self-assuredness. The grey eyes appraising Chakotay gave little away. When, not long after they'd gotten back from the Delta Quadrant, B'Elanna had told him Kathryn was dating Baldwin, Chakotay had feigned indifference so successfully that he discovered afterwards that he'd completely failed to retain any of the details. All he could remember was that Baldwin worked across the square from Kathryn's office, heading up the legal section at the Fleet Operations Center.

"Good, thanks. Our latest mission went pretty smoothly, all things considered." Chakotay looked to Janeway, knowing she'd have something to say to that.

She didn't disappoint.

"Really? Because I heard that you managed to crash my ship so badly that they had to recall you to spacedock," she challenged, her expression playful, her hands gravitating towards her hips.

Despite everything, Chakotay found himself smiling. "You know, you shouldn't believe everything you hear, Admiral. And you do realise I wasn't piloting the ship myself?"

"So you admit you crashed?"

"Let's just say it wasn't the smoothest of landings."

"I hope you gave your pilot a good talking to."

"She was very apologetic – although it really wasn't her fault."

"I see. Well, I'm actually rather grateful to her. If she hadn't given Voyager a few sizeable cuts and bruises, then you wouldn't have been called back to spacedock and been free to come this evening."

"Good point. " Chakotay nodded. "It's good to know my crew are working together to make sure I still have a social life."

"All the best crews do that for their captain," Kathryn replied, a little wistfully.

Baldwin was watching her closely. "And when you were forced to captain that vessel for all those years on the far side of the galaxy, Kathryn, did your crew do the same for you? Did they ensure you had plenty of opportunities to let your hair down?" His long fingers casually reached up to toy with one of the auburn wisps that had escaped Kathryn's elegant up-do.

"Oh yes," she replied, looking at Chakotay rather than reacting outwardly to Baldwin's touch. "They ganged up on me more than once or twice."

Chakotay quickly steered his way around memories of the week before talent night and arrived at something else. "She made a memorable Queen of the Spider People."

"That wasn't social life – that was to save the ship!" she protested with a smile.

"You're right," he agreed. "Nice work, if you can get it."

"I don't remember you putting yourself forward for the part at the time," Kathryn replied with a sideways smile. "Are you sure you could have carried off the slit skirt and the low cut dress?"

"Maybe not." Chakotay quirked a brow. "Then again, some of the traditional robes of my tribe are pretty revealing."

Kathryn laughed, and the sound breached Chakotay's defences like floodwater. Guy Baldwin cleared his throat and Chakotay tried not to enjoy Baldwin's evident lack of enthusiasm for the length and warmth of their exchange.

"Have you met the groom?" Janeway redirected, possibly picking up on the mood of her fiancé.

"Not yet," Chakotay replied. "I've already been told he's a celebrated musician and that he grew up in these islands."

"You'll like him. Federico is a wonderful person. And any man brave enough to take on my sister deserves our respect."

Chakotay chuckled. Guy Baldwin remained silent, projecting an air of tolerant patience.

"Phoebe's friends are a very creative bunch," Chakotay observed. "Everyone I've been introduced to seems to be an artist, an actor, a musician or a performer of some kind. I have to admit I was starting to feel a little inadequate about my own lack of talents."

"I see. Then I think you might be overlooking something."

"How so?"

"I seem to remember you were quite a performer yourself when push came to shove."

Chakotay felt sudden heat rising in his neck together with a renewed pulse of confused antagonism towards her. So much for the theory that she'd forgotten about the last time she wore that outfit.

"You remember then?" He kept his tone light, but he suspected that his eyes had betrayed him seconds before. An answering spark of something equally intense kindled in Janeway's expression. She held his gaze for a beat, opening her mouth to reply just as her escort spoke.

"Champagne, Kathryn?" Baldwin's voice cut in. Chakotay turned to see him lift two flutes from the tray of a passing waiter and hold one out to Janeway, obliging her to look his way.

"Thank you, Guy," she replied politely.

Instinctively Chakotay backed off. Less than five minutes with Kathryn Janeway and he was off balance yet again. "Well, I'll leave you two to circulate. It's time I paid my respects to the happy couple."

Kathryn nodded diplomatically. "Tom and B'Elanna are right behind us. I know they're looking forward to seeing you too."

XxX

An hour went by, during which Chakotay kept his distance from Janeway and Baldwin. For the most part, he tried to stand with his back to her; that way he couldn't so easily watch her progress around the room.

He was introduced to Federico, the instantly likeable groom. He caught up with B'Elanna and Tom and shared news. He charmed several of Phoebe's friends, all of whom were nothing short of charming in return. A couple of them seemed to take a particular interest in him, and seemed keen to make him feel welcome.

He was a model guest. The currents of drink and music and laughter and talk were flowing and he was doing well. As long as he couldn't see the sister of the bride and her fiancé, he was just fine.

Then the band began their second set for the evening and, immediately, the distinctive rhythm of a traditional Cuban salsa caught Chakotay's attention. He looked across the room to exactly where, despite his best efforts, he knew Kathryn was standing, to find her turning towards him in the same instant. Just as their eyes locked, Baldwin's body eclipsed her. The tall man took her hand and led her towards the furthest part of the decking out under the stars, where other guests were dancing.

Chakotay studied the polished wooden floor for a moment, brushing invisible fluff from the lapel of his jacket, exasperated with himself. It took more concentration than he'd have liked to admit to summon up the semblance of a neutral expression as he tried not to watch them dance.

It didn't matter that she'd rarely looked as good to him as she did in that moment. So what if he had been thinking about her more and more in recent months? Kathryn had moved on. Definitively so. She'd done so months ago – years ago probably. It was high time he did the same.

Although… it would be difficult to find a harder place for him to start, frankly, with her right in front of him wearing that dress, that lingerie, those heels, and dancing with someone else to music that occupied a special place in his heart.

If you could call it dancing… The man was a disaster on the dance floor. For more reasons than one, it was actually painful to watch.

And how exactly should he go about 'moving on' when this evening had done nothing but reinforce for him how much power she still wielded over him? Power she didn't even want or value. In every other sphere of his life he was his own man. Never had he felt so fulfilled professionally; the captaincy of Voyager meant everything to him right now. Even though he knew there were those at Starfleet Command who remained unconvinced, and possibly always would, that he was the right man for the job, he was where he wanted to be. He was in excellent health; he had good friends and a spectacularly comfortable apartment he'd barely slept in yet. His life was good. He was happy. But after only a few minutes of watching Kathryn Janeway in the arms of another man his equilibrium was shattered.

It was no good. Who was he fooling? It was time to cut his losses and get out of there. He'd paid his respects to the happy couple, he'd spoken to his friends; he could end this torture and no one would even notice.

He turned to leave.

[TBC]