The Fourth Intersect


A/N: Much thanks to Helen8462 for beta-ing! The story is infinitely better because of her suggestions.


PICARD: "Sit down, Counsellor. I want to talk to you about a matter of protocol. I know there are no Starfleet regulations about a captain becoming involved with a fellow officer, but—"

TROI: "You would like my opinion about you and Commander Daren... You think that your feelings toward Nella could change the way you function as Captain."

PICARD: "Yes. Relationships with co-workers can be fraught with consequences."

TROI: "That's true. But, cutting yourself off from your feelings can carry consequences that are just as serious."

-TNG 6x19 "Lessons"


It came into existence just after the ancient Terran holiday known as St. Valentine's Day—a simple replica of an ancient Terran captain's pocket watch. Chakotay had considered giving it to Kathryn then, hoping it might begin to mend the divide that had opened between them during their recent conflict with the Borg and Species 8472. He wanted her to know that he still believed in her, still supported her, and still would do whatever he could to ease her burdens. Such a gesture might have been a bit on the nose that particular day, however, and he decided to save it for another.

Given the way life was apt to be in the Delta Quadrant, timing rarely seemed to go right. Kathryn's birthday came and went in crisis, so Chakotay waited until the emergency had passed to give her the watch.

It's time, the watch seemed to tell him when the crisis was finally over, and he agreed with its prodding. Could it still convey its original message of support for her, even after the passing of several months? Perhaps. If nothing else, he knew that it would help to brighten her spirit; that alone made it more than worth the rations, and the wait.

"Got any plans for the weekend?" Chakotay asked as his captain skimmed over a status report he had brought to her. The watch shifted in a small pocket added to the inside of his uniform jacket several months ago, reminding him of what he owed to her.

She set down the PADD and looked up at her first officer with an easy smile. "I was thinking about checking up on the maestro. Why? Did you have something in mind?"

"Actually," he admitted, clasping his hands behind his back as he subtly set the snare. "Mike Ayala put together a new holoprogram that I've been itching to try out. Ever been hiking in Peru?"

"No, I haven't. Have you?"

"Not in Peru, no. Care to join me?" The snare was baited. Chakotay knew Kathryn well enough to be fully aware of the fact that she couldn't resist an opportunity to go on a new adventure, especially when he was the one asking. The maestro could wait for another day. What she needed was camaraderie, a place to blow off steam, and encouragement.

"I'd love to," she agreed.

He gave her his best smile, and watched her eyes go straight to the dimples in his cheeks. Gotcha.

Kathryn Janeway was, without a doubt, a child of the twenty-fourth century; even so, she was no stranger to hiking. When she arrived at Holodeck One the next morning, her confidence was absolute. Chakotay knew it would be. Surely, the Inca Trail would be child's play compared to some of the wonders on Mars that she had told him stories of exploring as a teen.

What she couldn't have anticipated was the surprise gift that he brought along to give to her at the end of their hike.

Chakotay waited until they were sitting together on the summit of Mt. Huayna Picchu, gratefully emptying their canteens and enjoying the simulated wind cooling off their sweat-covered skin. "Close your eyes," he told her. When she angled a quizzical eyebrow at him, he chuckled. "Trust me, Kathryn," he implored, so she obliged. Lifting the canteen from her grasp, he gently arranged her hands into the shape of a bowl before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the watch. "Hold this," he implored as he dropped the watch into her hands.

Kathryn gasped quietly when a cool, heavy, disc-shaped object settled in her palm. The surface was smooth, and it resonated with a subtle clinking sound as her fingernails tapped against it. A long, chain-like attachment jangled from the top, and she was momentarily concerned it would turn out to be some gaudy necklace that she would be obligated to wear at Neelix's next party. Don't worry, the object seemed to say, reminding her of what she knew and trusted about Chakotay. He could be a jokester when he wanted to be, but he wasn't one to humiliate people—especially not her.

She didn't have much time to think about it, though. Soon, her friend was grasping her arms from behind, pulling her up to her feet, and carefully walking her forward against the wind. Her eyebrows knit together over closed lids. "Chakotay? What are you doing?"

"I'll explain soon enough," he assured her, a teasing tone to his voice. "There's no need to wheedle."

At that, Kathryn let slip a real, honest-to-god giggle. It felt good to be so relaxed.

Even after Chakotay had her positioned in a satisfactory spot, he still wouldn't let her open her eyes, and she frowned in consternation. Instead, he instructed her to simply feel the wind and the sun on her skin, and to listen. Then, he began telling her the story of a nineteenth-century sailor named Captain Henry Coey Kane. Captain Kane's ship, the HMS Calliope, was struck by a cyclone and trapped with several other ships in a dangerous harbor. Facing certain destruction, Kane made the gutsy choice to escape out to sea. His ship was presumed to be lost until he miraculously brought it—and his crew—back safely two days later. Every other ship had been destroyed, but Kane refused to sink.

A small smile started tugging at the corners of Kathryn's mouth.

Finally, he said, "Open your eyes."

Between the handsome replica of Kane's silver chronometer that she held in her hands—a pocket watch, as Chakotay called it—and the glorious view of the sun just beginning its descent over the ancient ruins of Machu Picchu, Kathryn was struck completely, utterly, speechless. There were many times when she found herself staring out of a viewport and wondering if she had promised too much when she told her crew that she would get them home. The longer they sailed through unfamiliar stars, the more frequently those doubts seeped into her soul. Yet, here was her first officer, her best friend, assuring her of his confidence in her ability to complete the mission.

"It's a little late," he admitted apologetically, "but happy birthday."


"How are you doing?" Chakotay asked, eying her with concern.

"Me?" Kathryn replied, screwing up her courage as she always did. She wasn't the one who needed his sympathy; it was her crew she was worried about. "I'm fine."

Chakotay chuckled, shaking his head at her. "You'd say that if you'd just had your legs torn off by a Traykan Beast. Look what you've been through in the last few days! We finally make a connection with home, and then it's ripped away from us. We manage to make yet another enemy who's going to try and hunt us down and destroy us, and, on top of that—" He hesitated to verbalize his last point.

"It's all right," she assured him tightly, looking him in the eyes. "You can say it. On top of all that, I got a Dear John letter." She sighed, dropping her gaze. "It wasn't really a surprise. I didn't honestly expect him to wait for me, considering the circumstances. It made me realize that I was using him as a safety net, a way to avoid becoming involved with someone else."

"You don't have that safety net any more."

"That's right," she agreed, looking into the deep brown liquid she held in her hands. Lifting her chin, she again met the lovely eyes that watched her, just as richly hued as was her coffee. "Then again, there's protocol to consider. Could I retain my objectivity as the commanding officer if I were to pursue a relationship here? The needs of this crew must come first. I cannot neglect my duty to them."

Just then, Neelix's voice sounded over the comm, cutting into her dilemma. "Neelix to the ready room. The party's about to begin and there are only two people missing."

She glanced at Chakotay and exchanged a light-hearted grin before tapping on her combadge. "Very good, Neelix. Give us just a moment; we'll be there shortly."

Dropping her feet to the floor, she leaned forward and placed her cup on the low table before her. Chakotay followed her lead, setting down his own cup and making his way silently towards the door. Kathryn shifted her weight forward to stand, but hesitated when she felt the chain of her pocket watch shift inside her jacket and brush lightly against her breast.

It's time, the watch seemed to say, but not for the party; she had asked Neelix to give her more time where she was. Why had she done that? She found herself glued to the spot, held by thoughts that had been interrupted and left unfinished. "And yet," she uttered aloud, her lips obeying the demand of an inanimate object that she kept in her pocket.

Chakotay turned back to face her, pausing just shy of the door's motion sensor, and looked at her expectantly. When Kathryn said nothing more, he prodded her gently. "And yet?"

The note of hope in his voice was unmistakable, and it was enough cast out her remaining doubts about whether he still had the same feelings for her that he'd made apparent during their stay on New Earth. Should she tell him how she felt? Oh, how she wanted to tell him; oh, how she feared the outcome if she did.

If she were to tell him, to give into the romance she'd been denying herself for so long, she would have to accept the possibility that he might end up being her next Justin—a love ripped from her life by his premature death. Could she survive another such loss? Could the crew survive if she were to spiral into another depression? Then again, considering how much she already cared for Chakotay, and how persistent had been her feelings for him over the past year and a half, could she honestly say that she wouldn't be affected in such a way, regardless of what they said out loud?

Her heart was racing. She didn't want to let the moment pass her by, but she struggled to rise above her debilitating fear. Each loss she suffered had chipped a piece out of her like a stone. How much more could she lose before she crumbled into dust?

"Kathryn?"

She took a sharp breath, willing herself to finish what she had started. "And yet," she continued, "I can't just ignore my feelings."

He tugged at his ear—an unconscious gesture that made her want to rush over to him and take his lips with hers. "What kind of feelings?"

Finally, she worked up the courage to meet his eyes. "I think you already know the answer to that."

He searched her face as if he were looking for any sign at all that his intuition may be wrong. After several tense seconds, he gave an assenting nod. "I think I do." He was still giving her space to call the shots, even as she revealed her hand to him.

Suddenly, Kathryn's feet were compelled to move, carrying her towards the place where he stood, waiting. "So what'll it be, Chakotay?" she demanded desperately, the words tumbling from her mouth. "Indulge my feelings? Hold fast to protocol? What?" Her emotions were at war within her, preventing her from making a definitive choice. No matter how he answered her question, she'd happily agree if only to settle the conflict in her soul.

But, even as she spoke the words, she knew that Chakotay would not buy into the false dichotomy she offered him. Even though it was frowned upon by some in the higher echelons of Starfleet Command, there were, strictly speaking, no regulations preventing captains from pursuing relationships with subordinates. The only protocol she had to hold onto was her own, and that self-imposed standard was beginning to fold like a bad hand in a poker game.

Just like Mark, her personal protocol had become little more than an excuse for her to avoid her fear of suffering yet another loss. As Kathryn's closest friend and confidant, surely Chakotay could read the emotions that were written all over her face. Surely, he realized the power she had handed him—the power to act on what he had wanted for so long.

Still, he relinquished his power to her, and selflessly lifted the weight from her back instead—just as he always had done. "You have plenty of time to think about it," he answered calmly, without judgment.

At those words, the anxiety clenching her chest dissipated, and she found that she could breathe again. Of course, he's right, she thought, laughing at herself lightly for thinking she could be hearing the thoughts of a pocket watch. I don't have to decide this now. She smiled at him, overwhelmed with gratitude at how good he was to her. How had she ever lived without him? I have plenty of time.

Returning her smile, he offered her his arm. "Let's not keep the crew waiting."


"If you showed this data to any Starfleet engineer, they'd think we were out of our minds." His eyes begged her to reconsider her approval of Harry's plan for their slipstream flight. "We can find another way home, Kathryn. We've waited this long."

"Long enough," she insisted. "We've waited long enough. I know it's a risk—probably our biggest one yet—but I'm willing to take it. Are you with me?"

The corners of his mouth turned upward. "Always," he promised.

They had almost died the next morning. She had almost killed them all because of her obsession with getting home. She thought they were timeless, but their time had nearly run out. Never again, she swore to herself. I'll not miss out on the rest of this journey because I'm too busy pining away for the destination.

So, after leaving Harry in the Mess Hall with the message from a Harry Kim of another time and place, Kathryn quickly made her way to her first officer's quarters and tapped the panel by his door. It's time.

He stood the moment she walked in, dark eyes watching her as she set on him immediately. It took about three seconds for him to relax under her bruising kiss, and to return her affection. As always, he allowed her to lead, and she didn't pull away until they were both breathless.

"What was that for?" he panted, his fingers still curled in her hair.

"I thought we had all the time in the world, Chakotay," she gasped, "but we don't. I won't waste whatever time we have, not anymore."

He smiled, and oh, how she loved those dimples in his cheeks. "Are you sure you're ready to take this step, Kathryn? What about your protocol?"

"Trust me," she breathed, slowly drawing down the zipper of her black-and-red jacket to slip a hand between it and standard grey turtleneck underneath. Chakotay's eyes dilated, but stayed fixed on hers until she dragged one of his hands down between their bodies and dropped the silver pocket watch into it. "Hold this for me," she requested of him, feeling as though she were stripped bare yet not shedding a single piece of clothing. She wasn't very good at symbolic expressions of her feelings, but she knew instinctively that this was something she needed to share with him—her way of finally opening herself to the warrior who had given her his all. "I don't want to carry it alone anymore."

"You're not alone, Kathryn," he promised, accepting her watch into his hand, his soul, and his thoughts. He would do whatever it took to be worthy of the gift she gave him.

"I know," she replied. Running her tongue along her bottom lip, she lifted up on her toes to touch her nose to his as she purred, "Take me to bed, Commander."

A warm chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. He loved the way she could follow-up her rare sentimental display of emotion with such forward command. She frowned slightly at him in frustration, but this only made him smile wider. Then, he leaned in and breathed his gently teasing answer against her lips. "Aye, Captain."


"I don't have time to explain," an older, white-haired Admiral Janeway snapped at Kathryn from the viewscreen. "Now, in case you didn't notice, I outrank you, Captain. You have to seal that rift. Do it, now!"

It was a day that had changed Kathryn's life forever. When the Admiral boarded Voyager, she had wasted no time in explaining why she was there—the Borg were intending to invade the Alpha Quadrant, and Voyager had a chance to stop them. Though their plans had been delayed by the rebellion of Unimatrix Zero's liberated drones, it would inevitably fail, and the Federation's ensuing war with the Borg would be devastating.

"I've come to change history," the Admiral informed the Captain. And, change history they did, working together to destroy the two transwarp network hubs that lead to Federation space. The Queen's greatest mistake, Chakotay thought, was being so haughty as to underestimate the power of having two Kathryn Janeways in one universe.

The Queen had also not realized the secret power of a certain object that the Admiral carried in her jacket as she took her stealth shuttle into the hub that day—her pocket watch, imbued with the unwavering faith of a man she would love until she released her final breath.

From the first moment the elder Janeway stepped foot on his and Kathryn's ship, she maintained a hardened look in her eyes, never letting any emotion slip to the surface. But, Chakotay hadn't missed the small gold band she wore on her left ring finger. When had they gotten married? he wondered. What happened to him? And, what happened to the watch?

She showed the watch to Chakotay as he made pre-launch checks on her shuttle. It was as battle-worn as she, but it still faithfully ticked away the time. In that moment, those hardened eyes filled with tears and finally came to resemble the eyes he had fallen in love with so long ago. As he looked into them, just as captivatingly blue as they had always been, he found confirmation of that which he already knew.

"How did you lose him?" he dared to ask.

She pressed her hand against his chest, and her watch with it. "As a hero," she answered in a voice full to the brim with heartbreak and pride, "saving hundreds of lives."

He clasped his hand over hers, feeling her grief deep into his own bones. "And that's how I will remember you, Kathryn. Saving millions."

Then, she put it back in her pocket, and left Voyager to meet her own end. Thanks to some advanced technology that she had brought with her, a neural pathogen that Starfleet had quietly developed for use against the Borg, and her own carefully-laid plans, Voyager rode the transwarp network all the way home.

Most of Starfleet was pleased by the intrepid crew's arrival. Frankly, after what the Admiral had told them about the way their future would have turned out, Chakotay didn't give a damn about the complaints of the Temporal Integrity Commission, and neither did his captain. They were home, their crew was safely reunited with their families, and the Borg had been cut off from their mode of attack. By the time the Collective recovered enough strength to threaten Federation space again, Starfleet would be ready; he had no doubt Kathryn would make sure of that.

After months of debriefings, command reviews, hearings for the former Maquis and Equinox crews, and intensive psychological therapy, Kathryn happily accepted her nearly-immediate promotion to the admiralty. Chakotay had opted not to keep his commission—though he could have, after the case Kathryn and her crew had made for him and his. Instead, he resigned from active duty, and chose to pursue his first love of anthropology.

It hadn't been easy for either of them to adjust to such a slow, peaceful pace of life. Not only had they missed the Dominion War entirely, they had in fact returned two years into the Federation's rebuilding efforts. Both got antsy for danger now and again, and although Kathryn did find a smaller degree of adventure once Voyager was recommissioned and returned to duty as the new admiral's flagship, it was nothing like the constant threats of the Delta Quadrant. With time, however, they rediscovered how to find excitement in the small joys of their lives, and how to fall in love with each other all over again.

The wedding was a small one—by the standards of the power-couple's newfound celebrity status, that is. The guest list was simple, including Kathryn's mother, her sister's family, Chakotay's cousin, and, of course, their former crew. They both had their younger sisters beside them at the altar, while Admiral Owen Paris served as the officiant. Although Chakotay had opted to don a traditional tuxedo for the special day, Admiral Janeway was, of course, wearing her Starfleet best.

It wasn't until after the ceremony was over, when the couple had recessed to a back room of the venue where they awaited their introduction to the reception, that Kathryn finally noticed the silver chain curving from the middle button of his tuxedo vest to the pocket in which their watch was nestled. A smile played at her lips as she reached for it, slipped it from his pocket, ands traced its smooth edges reverently with her fingertips.

"Take it," he murmured, drawing her eyes up to his.

She shook her head. "It looks better on you."

He made a humming sound in the back of his throat as his hand moved to cup her face. "That's not possible. Everything looks better on you."

She wanted to argue; he could see that look in her eyes. They'd been over this before, she and him. After a moment of hesitation, she accepted his compliment.

"Besides," he continued as he disconnected the chain from his vest, "I think it's time you took it back. It's always been yours. You accomplished the mission. And you'll accomplish every new mission Starfleet gives you, because that's who you are. You never give up. I believe in you, Kathryn. I always have. And I will always support you in everything you do. But, it's your watch."

Tears streamed down her face by the time he finished. Once again, he had left her speechless.

"There," he said, fixing it to the waistband of her trousers.

Regaining her composure, she lifted her chin confidently and struck a classic Janeway pose, resting a hand on her hip. "What do you think?"

He gave her a wry smile and an approving nod. "Very handsome."

Just then, the comm chirped, and the voice of Kathryn's sister, Phoebe, invaded their privacy. "Alright, you two. Get your clothes back on and get out here. Admiral Paris is ready to announce you to the reception, and we're all waiting to try some of that cake!"

Kathryn chuckled and shook her head. "We're on our way!"

Chakotay held out his elbow for her to slip a hand under. "Let's not keep the family waiting."


"Chakotay," Kathryn gasped, dragged into wakefulness by the god-awful cramp that tightened everything in her belly. The sleeping lump of a man next to her groaned but didn't stir, so she served him a swift kick in the shin. "Chakotay," she hissed, then pivoted her body on the bed so she could drop her feet to the floor.

"Kathryn?" he asked groggily. "What—"

"It's time," she answered.

He was silent for a moment as his tired mind tried to interpret the meaning of her words. Then, she heard him echo, "It's—it's time? Are you sure?"

She snorted as she pulled on her robe and slid her feet into the shoes by the bed. "Trust me," she said, taking her watch from the drawer of her nightstand and dropping it into his hand. "Hold this. Contact the Doctor and have him meet us at Starfleet Medical."

Kathryn watched as Chakotay ordered the lights on and looked down at the pocket watch she had put in his hands. He looked up at her with a smile. "It's time," he repeated. Then, he sprang into action.

They had practiced this, Kathryn reminded herself. He knew what to do, and she trusted him—she always had. "They'd damn well better have that private room I asked for," she muttered.

"You're Admiral Kathryn Janeway," her husband reminded her as he quickly pulled on his own clothes. "They'd shut down the whole place if you asked."

She chuckled. "I doubt that. But, you're right, as always. I won't worry about it."

Tucking the watch into his pants pocket, Chakotay made his way to his wife's side, taking just a moment to pull her close and press his lips to hers. "Let's go have a baby," he whispered reverently.

When they had been stranded in the Delta Quadrant ten years earlier, both believed they had lost their chance at having families. Each one learned to accept it, finding purpose and happiness in their lives on Voyager. Their cobbled-together crew became their family; after three years back on Earth, that sense of family was still strong, transcending many divergent paths. The command team had also learned to lean on one another—as colleagues, friends, and eventually lovers. Ten years strong, and aged as Kathryn and Chakotay both were, they were about to add someone new to that special Voyager family.

But she wouldn't leave her child to grow up without her, the way she had grown up without her own father; she promised Chakotay that from the start. Her arrangements were made with Starfleet Command, and they had agreed to let her stay put with her husband in San Francisco. Her watch over the USS Voyager, and over a fleet of specialized science vessels, was complete. No more Maquis sat in prison cells or penal colonies, and Starfleet was taking seriously the inevitable future of having a conflict with the Borg. It was time for a new watch—their watch, together.

It was just beginning.

Kathryn smiled up at him, excited as she always had been at the prospect of a new adventure, and Chakotay already knew what she was about to say before the words had even left her mouth.

"Let's do it."


Source Episodes: VOY 4x8 Year of Hell, 4x15 Hunters, 5x06 Timeless, 7x25 Endgame

A/N: When Chakotay gives Kathryn the pocket watch in "Year of Hell," he tells her about a British naval officer named Cray who was lost at sea for eight months. Cray is based on a real man, Captain Kane, who is substituted here because I thought the real story was pretty cool, too.