ANY WAY YOU LOOK AT IT
Kathryn Janeway sat alone in the mess hall. It was late, and Neelix had closed up shop for the evening. Sometimes she liked to come and sit here, with her cup of coffee, to gaze at the stars rushing by past the windows, and to think. It was a better view for contemplation than her quarters, and when she sat in her ready room, she always ended up working. She took another sip of coffee.
Tonight, her thoughts were centered on recent events. Her altercation with Ensign Kim kept replaying itself over and over in her mind. She kept hearing Harry's words repeated: I am not sick. I didn't disobey your orders because I'm under some sort of alien influence. I disobeyed your orders because Tal and I are in love. And it's not right for you to keep us apart. Have you ever been in love, Captain?
She allowed herself a faint smile. Had she ever been in love? Oh yes, Ensign Kim, I've been in love. But how long had it been since she'd felt the sort of unyielding passion that Harry felt for Tal? Not with Mark. It must have been... Justin, perhaps? She couldn't remember a time when she would have disobeyed orders based on her belief in a relationship, although she was sure that once, she had had that sort of capacity for passion.
Seven of Nine told me love's like a disease. Well maybe it is: pheromones, endorphins, chemicals in our blood, changing our responses, physical discomfort. But any way you look at it, it's still love.
She shook her head, taking another sip of coffee. She no longer had any doubts about the voracity of Harry's feelings. It was love, but was it worth it? That was another question entirely. She had responded to Harry by giving him a rare insight into her own personal life. I lost him. And you're going to lose Tal. You know that.
And finally, the question that kept echoing in her mind; the question which she hadn't had the opportunity to answer: That man you were going to marry; if you could've just taken a hypospray to make yourself stop loving him so that it didn't hurt so much when you were away from him, would you have done that?
This was the question she continued to ponder. They had been interrupted before she could reply to Harry, but now, she felt glad of that. She didn't think that the Ensign would have liked her answer. She heard the doors to the mess hall open, and she whirled around in her chair. She was unaccustomed to visitors at this hour. As soon as she saw the identity of her guest, her expression softened.
"Am I interrupting?" Chakotay asked.
"Not at all," she said, gesturing to a chair at her table.
"I have the damage report from the incident with the Varro, as well as next week's duty roster," he said, handing her a PADD.
"Working late tonight?" she asked with a smile. "Coffee?"
"Thanks," said Chakotay, "but I'll pass. I have a late duty shift tomorrow, so I'll be up for a few more hours. I asked the computer where to find you, and it said you were here. I didn't mean to intrude." He moved as if to go.
"Please stay, Chakotay," the Captain replied. "I was just thinking about Mr. Kim."
"I see," Chakotay said quietly.
She looked at him, trying to read his eyes, his expression. She remembered their conversation over dinner. Is that why you came down so hard on him? A formal reprimand for being intimate with a young woman? "You disagree with the way I handled the situation," she said. It was both a question and a statement.
Chakotay hesitated. "I think you were a little harsh," he finally said. "We're not in a normal Starfleet situation. Our crew doesn't have opportunities to meet anyone outside of the people they've known for five years. It's only natural that once in a while, one of us might want to be romantically involved with someone we meet on an alien world. I wasn't formally reprimanded for having a relationship with Kellin."
Chakotay had told her about his relationship with the Ramuran woman. Although he had not let her read them, but he had shown her the handwritten pages detailing their encounter with the Ramurans and his relationship. "That's a little different, Chakotay," she said. "Weeks had gone by by the time you told me about that. I couldn't very well punish you for something that no one could remember, could I?"
"That's not my point. Someday we might face a situation where a member of our crew wants to stay with a romantic partner, or someone wants to come with us in order to stay with a member of our crew. We haven't had to face it yet, but we might someday. You can't ask a hundred and forty three people to remain celibate for the next forty years."
She smiled, allowing the conversation to lighten a bit. "I guess I can't," she said. "And I guess that if those situations arise in the future, we'll deal with them accordingly."
Chakotay returned her smile, and changed the subject. "How's Harry doing?"
"He seems to be fine. He's thrown himself into his work."
"Is he still refusing the Doctor's treatment?"
"He is." Kathryn grew quiet and took a sip of her coffee.
Chakotay saw a dark look in her eyes; it was a look he knew well. "What is it?" he asked softly.
Kathryn closed her eyes for a moment. She hadn't intended to speak of this to anyone, but she wouldn't lie to Chakotay. "In my ready room, when I ordered Harry to report to the Doctor, he asked me a question. It's been on my mind ever since." She paused; he waited expectantly. "He asked me, if I could have taken a hypospray to make myself stop loving Mark so that it didn't hurt so much when I was away from him, would I do it."
Chakotay could see that this was hard for her to tell him. "What did you say?" he asked gently.
"I never got the chance to answer. That's when the Varro ship started breaking apart." She became quiet again. Chakotay reached out and gently placed his hand on her arm. "The thing is, Chakotay," she said as her voice broke over the words, "I think I would have."
He left his hand on her arm. "And that bothers you?"
She turned her head to face him fully, sliding her hand over the top of his. "Chakotay," she said softly, "when was the last time you felt like you would do anything for love? When was the last time that you felt like you wouldn't give up that feeling no matter how much pain it cost you?"
"I don't know," he said.
"Exactly. I don't either. Maybe it's only possible when you're very young, or very naive. Maybe after a certain age, it's just not possible to feel that way anymore. If we are hurt enough times, we lose the capacity to love altogether."
He shook his head. "I don't think that's true, Kathryn. I don't think we ever lose that capacity. But it does get buried sometimes. It gets harder to let yourself trust, to let yourself be vulnerable." Her hand still rested on top of his, and he removed their hands from the top of her arm and intertwined his fingers with hers.
She looked up at him. The one man she did trust more than anyone; who was not afraid to challenge her, but who had pledged to always support her; her closest friend; her... She stopped the thought. She could not allow herself to think of any more than that. He seemed to read her thoughts, and squeezed her hand, bringing her back to the present moment. "It does get harder," she admitted.
"We have plenty of time," he said softly.
She nodded, reaching for his other hand and taking it in hers. "Plenty of time."