By august
cFeb1998
This story is mine. The characters aren't. Paramount can sue my little arse, I have no money to give. Ha ha.
Despite the fact that you're probably already having sex, if you're under 18 you can't READ about it. Sorry, but who am I to argue with an established institution that is a democratic government, anyway?
The story is Rated R. It was voted third place in the 1998 J/C section of the A.S.C.E.M awards. I'm chuffed!
* * * * * *
She could only groan as her body hit the floor. She vaguely noted the cell door sliding shut behind her, but she didn't really care.
"Kathryn!" A voice. She knew she knew it. Other voices. She knew them. At least, she was supposed to.
Hands on her body (again), moving her away from the cold wet tiles. Fingers on her neck, intrusive, strange, seeking a small pulse that flickered underneath her skin.
"At least she's alive." Caustic and hollow. Her Chakotay.
"We need to keep her warm." Harry. "Get those cuts cleaned."
"Why do they keep taking her? I don't understand." A voice was further away. "They haven't touched the rest of us." It was moving, that voice. Pacing, like an old earth tiger, held in a cement prison, seeking reprieve. Strength under duress. B'Elanna.
She knew that she should talk, but she couldn't really focus on them. She had started to feel the pain in her body, spreading slowly. The things they had done to her - a shudder ran through her body as she remembered. She was so tired. So cold. She shivered slightly, even by the heat of the fire. She needed to sleep.
She slowly worked through the Vulcan mind barriers, learnt through survival courses at the Academy, and after a time spent in another cell, years and year away. She knew she was bleeding somewhere . . . focus on the bleeding, close it in your mind. She was pretty sure that some ribs were broken, and she couldn't move her arm. Focus on the pain, close it off.
After a while, she became aware of the others. They were sitting around her, not touching, just letting her rest. She could hear them talking, she knew they needed answers. A clue, anything . . .
"They want information." She finally spoke, startling them all. Perhaps even herself. "They want the transporter technology, replicator technology." She stopped and almost laughed as the absurdity of the situation occurred to her. "They want to know how to build a starship!"
"Aren't they at warp technology?" Harry asked.
"No."
"Then the signature we read on the planet-"
"-Some form of energy unique to the Delta quadrant, apparently."
"Oh, damnit." Chakotay swore silently, his thoughts rising above them all.
There was a silence, as they all turned and saw what caught Chakotay's attention.
By the light of the fire, they could see underneath the ripped uniform that Kathryn's side was completely swollen, the pale skin turned to shades of blue and purple. Across the colors were deep red welts, crossing with even deeper cuts crusted over with dried blood. Chakotay almost smiled, knowing he had seen such work in particularly vigilant Cardassian camps and thought wryly how some things just remain universal. Torture is torture, no matter what quadrant it's inflicted in.
"I don't know how to heal this here." He said softly. "We don't even have an emergency kit."
"I just want to sleep." She said, the fatigue finally winning.
"Listen to me, you can't sleep. I can't let you sleep."
"They'll be here for me again soon Chakotay, I just want to sleep."
"Listen to me." He gripped her arms, forcing her to stay focused on his voice. "You might have a head injury. I don't know much Kathryn, but I know that you can't go to sleep if you have a head injury."
"He's right Captain." Harry added. "You might have concussion-"
"-Enough! Just let her sleep Chakotay. She needs to sleep." B'Elanna's interrupted angrily.
"B'Elanna-"
"-She's tired. She's been there for almost two days. She needs to sleep. She won't survive if she doesn't." She argued calmly.
Silence as Chakotay contemplated B'Elanna's argument. Oh hell, he thought, she might not even come back next time.
"Sleep now Kathryn." He said gruffly, hating the fact that there was nothing to do while she lay dying in pain on the floor. "Sleep."
* * * * * *
"She can't help you!" Kathryn awoke to an angry B'Elanna, facing off with one of the guards. "Why do you keep taking her? She's not in charge."
"Who's in charge then, prisoner?" The sneer was evident, even in his voice, and it was all Kathryn could do not to curl up with fear. There was a silence before B'Elanna spoke . "Me. I'm the captain. Take me."
Laughter rang through the cell, sounding as malicious as the first time she had heard it.
"Well Captain, you'll be happy that we don't want you, we want her."
"She can't help you." B'Elanna stood in their way. In a flash, the guard slung his weapon to connect with her jaw, sending her sprawling across the cell.
"Anyone else?" He asked, smiling as B'Elanna tried to stop the blood flowing from her jaw. Out of the corner of her eyes, Kathryn saw Chakotay stand up, and she wanted to call out to him, tell him to sit, order him to stay.
"She's no use to you. If you beat her long enough, she'll tell you anything to make you stop." Chakotay said calmly.
"You're giving me instructions, prisoner?"
"No. I'm just telling you that she's no good to you. Take me. I'm the Commander of the starship."
"Well, a Captain and a Commander. Aren't we lucky?" The guard laughed, moving over to Kathryn, kicking her body and then pulling her off the floor. "Let's go."
They sat there, watching Kathryn walk. It seeemed almost inevitable that she would go, and a small part of her screamed that Captain Janeway should fight. But she didn't. She tried to set her shoulders back, to echo Picard's advice: "How we die is almost as important as how we live". She wasn't sure that she succeeded. Especially as Harry turned his face, not wanting to watch his Captain leave.
The gate slid shut behind her, and the guard turned back and smiled. "See you later Captain." He mock saluted B'Elanna, before pushing Kathryn onwards.
They sat in silence.
"Of all the-" B'Elanna sprang to her feet, angrily.
"-Enough!!" Chakotay held his hand up. "What were you trying to do there?"
"To stop them from taking her. To do-"
"-to do what, Klingon?" He said angrily. "Have you forgotten that they are the ones with the guns?"
"Well it's better than sitting here and doing nothing like cowards Chakotay! Or have you forgotten what it's like to fight, human?"
"Stop it! Both of you!" Harry's voice rose above them both. "Instead of fighting, we should be working on a way to get out."
"We can't get out Harry, we just have to wait until Tuvok figures a way to get us out of here. Mock heroics will just get us killed."
"-And in the meantime, Captain Janeway is slowly being tortured to death." Broke in B'Elanna. "Is that what you want?"
"You know it's not." Chakotay said in a low, angry voice.
A silence hung over them.
"She said that they wanted technology. Basic technology. We have to assume then that they have no beaming devices." Chakotay began.
"Or shields." Said Harry.
"Or shields." B'Elanna said smiling. "So why doesn't Tuvok just beam us out of here."
"We can't think . . . " Chakotay's voice trailed off as a scream echoed through the building. They all knew who it was, and they supposed that was what the Klex wanted. It didn't make it any less horrifying to listen to.
* * * * * *
Time passed. That was all they knew. They had no daylight to tell when one day ended and another begin. The sliding of gates and the sound of Kathryn's body hitting the dead floor became the only interval in their lives.
It was a different kind of torture, what they were going through. While Kathryn was being assaulted, they were under a different kind of attack. An attack which puts three good friends in a room and turn them against each other. An attack which made Harry consider his time in the prison with Tom as some sort of luxury resort. In the Klex cell there weren't people to fight off, food to be fought over, someone to constantly watch. Here time was the only thing he really had and he was thinking about things he would rather not.
He had once heard the Doc's nickname for Voyager was 'the Voyage of the Damned'. Sitting in the Klex cell, listening to B'Elanna and Chakotay tear each other apart, watching his Captain being reduced to a mere shell of a person through continued sensory abuse . . . he couldn't help but agree. It was his first mission and he had seen things that people shouldn't see. Harry smiled to himself. I would have been better off in Juliard after all, he thought. There weren't any almighty principles to defend there. There weren't things worth dying for.
The only trouble was, he wasn't sure that these principles were worth dying for either. He couldn't help but think that maybe they were wrong. Maybe there is a price that everything can be paid at. And those were the types of thoughts that scared him the most.
* * * * * *
For Kathryn Janeway it was a different kind of fear. She could remember how proudly she stood on the first contact mission with the Klex. She had mistakenly them to be a space-faring race willing to trade. She could not have been further from the truth. She cringed inwardly at the recollection of her arrogance. At her assumption that her title had somehow made her immune to failure.
She could even remember how proudly she had held herself when she was first pushed her to the ground. How she had calmly commanded the away team to comply as they were all pushed to their knees in front of the Klex. And as she now lay prostrate in front of the Klex interrogates, she tortured herself with images of a confident Kathryn Janeway who had dared to plan an escape. Who had dared to hope of an escape.
What had she become? Now she just returned to her cell, time and time again, sometimes no longer even acknowledging those who had been her officers, friends . . . more? Another thought she had to push away. It was not a Kathryn Janeway she knew. Or liked. And that scared her more than anything.
She closed her eyes as the Klex entered the room again. Even now, tears slid silently down her face. A part of her thought she should have been immune to the pain by now. The other part knew that she wasn't. She screamed as she fell to her knees, head swimming again.
* * * * * *
"I won't let them do this to her anymore." Chakotay said slowly, grinding his teeth as Kathryn's screams once again filtered through the room. There were so many adjectives to describe them, but none seemed to even begin to describe what he was hearing. The time in the cell had not been kind of him, and his thoughts constantly strayed between Kathryn Janeway and torture both inflicted and received as a Maquis. "I won't let them take her."
"They're the ones with guns, remember?" B'Elanna said softly.
"I don't care. They'll have to kill me first" He said with such quiet determination that B'Elanna knew it to be true.
"Why doesn't she just tell them?" Harry said, quietly. "They won't be able to put it together, they don't have the materials. Why doesn't she just tell them?"
"You know as well as I do, Ensign." Chakotay said grimly. "We can't afford to change-"
"-the balance of power in this quadrant. I know, I know. But surely-"
"-There's no buts Harry. You should know that better than anyone. The Captain is 'Fleet."
"And you're 'Fleet now, Chakotay? Is that it?" B'Elanna's angry voice interrupted sharply.
"I don't answer to you, Torres." He snarled.
"They're hurting her, Chakotay." B'Elanna said simply.
"You think I don't know that B'Elanna? You think I can't hear . . . that?" He said in a tight voice. "I know her, if we give in now, she'll never be able to look herself in the mirror again. Her principles are her currency."
"If we don't give in Chakotay, she might not have a chance to look herself in the mirror." She argued back.
"It's the right thing to do." Harry added.
"Not for her. Not for a Captain who would self-destruct her ship than have it taken by the Kaxon or the Viidians."
"Then for us." Harry said, softly. "We can't afford to be benign."
"We can't afford not to Harry."
* * * * * *
The door creaked open and she was pushed inside the cell again. This time she couldn't even manage a groan as she hit the floor. They were at her side in a second.
"Kathryn!" Chakotay moved towards her.
"Don't!" She said woodenly, as he went to take her in his arms. She struggled to sit up with her arms, all the while noting that her arm should not be at that angle to her body.
"What have they done to you?"
"I just need to sleep." She whispered, lowering herself back down to the floor.
"Oh Christ, you're bleeding everywhere . . . we have to stop this . . . oh god, what have they done to your leg . . . it's everywhere . . we have to . . ." Chakotay was fumbling for somewhere to start, some sign that it wasn't as bad as it looked.
"No." She said sharply. "Just leave me."
"Captain?" Harry bent down close to her. "What-?
"I didn't tell them Harry. I didn't tell them anything."
"Captain, we have to tell them. They're going to keep doing this until-"
"-Until it's over." She closed her eyes, wanting to give into the darkness that was calling.
"Kathryn, maybe-" Chakotay began.
"No. Please, no more. I just want-"
"-leave her Chakotay." B'Elanna moved forward for the first time. "Let her be." B'Elanna had been in this situation, picking up the broken pieces of a person enough times to know what to do. She moved gently, until she held Kathryn's head in her lap, gently stroking her hair. "Leave her be."
Chakotay stood up. An anger, gone for years, had just re-emerged. He would not let this happen again. He had seen too much. Too much of himself. How many people had he left like this, everywhere, in his fights with the Maquis. How could he have done what was done to Kathryn. He had no doubt that he had done the same things, he was just no longer sure how. And he hated that. He set his jaw and narrowed his eyes, looking away. He would not let this happen again.
Fortunately for them all, a few hours later the faint tingle of the transporter beam captured them all, and they rematerialised on board of Voyager. "What the hell took you so long?" Chakotay said angrily, the minute he was solid. The Captain was transported to sickbay seconds later. And life went on.
* * * * * *
She turned away from the viewport. So long had the stars offered her comfort and stability when she needed it, that their alien nature to her now hit her harder than anything she had been through.
The doctor had confined her to her quarters. She had listened, slightly detached, as he listed the injuries she had sustained at the hands of the Klex. Broken shoulder, broken hip, both legs shattered in several places, a ruptured spleen, severe concussion, bruised clavicle, several serious infections, severe malnutrition and a kink in her neck that just wouldn't come out. In any other situation she would have marveled, yet again, at the extent to which the doctor's programme had grown, allowing him to express the utter distaste at what her captives had done to her, by just the tone of his voice.
"I don't mind telling you Captain" He had broken her thoughts. "By all rights you should be dead by now. You have the kind of injuries that would have broken a lesser person."
"What can I say doctor? I had considerate jailers."
"Somehow I doubt that." He huffed, turning away and filing an official relief of duty.
So here she was. Kathryn stood up, pain jolting up the sides of her body. The doctor had managed to relieve most of the serious ailments, leaving her with a slightly disjointed feel and a hell of a headache. And now she was angry. Not the "Mr Paris, the shuttlecraft is not your private lovenest" anger. Not even the "Tuvok - how could you?" anger. No, this was an anger that was quietly curling up inside her. Winding and winding until there was room for nothing else.
She paced the length of the room. How had the events of the past week spiraled so much out of control? One part of her said that she was alive, the prime directive had been upheld and the balance of power in the quadrant had been maintained. The other part didn't care.
She just didn't care.
It was an interesting sensation, to say the least. For the first time in her life perhaps, the principles she had grown up with, that she had lived by, didn't mean a thing to her. Or at least didn't mean what she knew they should. For the first time, she had finally understood what Chakotay was saying when he asked her to consider alliances that weren't 'Fleet in principle. What B'Elanna had been thinking when she had installed the Sikarian space folding technology. What the Marquis had believed all along.
She understood Chakotay.
Chakotay.
The name made her breath in sharply, and she found herself gazing back to the starfield. Her thoughts wandered to the last time she had returned from being held captive. She had been so much younger then and Justin knew just how to . . . But the Cardassians and Justin seemed so far away. She laughed to herself quickly. They *were* so far away. Justin, Mark . . . poor vulky Mark. Chakotay. Maybe the furthest away.
She had of course been aware of the growing attraction between herself and her Maquis XO for some time. She reveled in it a little, tucked it away and examined it late at night when it just became too much. It was hers.
But the feel of his arms around her as she lay in the cell, beaten and bruised, was not easy to remove. The realization that as she lay sobbing in his arms, he too had cried. The knowledge that he had been avoiding her ever since they had returned to the ship, that he could not look her in the eyes, that he was changing duty rosters so he didn't have to see her. The idea, however foreign, that she had lost him - it was all too much for her to think about.
She had lost so much. So much. And she was angry. But even as she paced her quarters, she could feel herself winding down. She could feel herself give in. The things she had been through, the things she had thought about in the past week were more than she could deal with. Chakotay. The Klex. The Prime Directive. The bruise, the bruises. She closed her eyes, the stars just seemed to taunt her.
She lowered herself to the floor, concentrating only on her breathing. She rested her head on the floor and breathed deeply - not hoping, not wanting - these she could not afford, could not allow. She just had to breath, and wait until morning.
* * * * * *
After a week of rest and relaxation - and even that term seemed to tease her, Captain Kathryn Janeway was making her way back to her quarters after her first bridge shift. Everything had been fine - no spatial anomalies, no space/time rifts, no visits from obnoxious omnipotent beings. Just a regular duty shift, apart from the notable absence of her first absence.
For days Kathryn had not been able to think about the implications of his absence. Chakotay, who had spent the last three years by her side, now ran at the sight of her. It wasn't that she didn't think about him, it was that she couldn't. After everything that had happened in the past three years, she couldn't lose that as well.
As if on cue, she walked straight past his quarters. And stopped. I can't lose this as well, she thought again.
"Computer, locate Commander Chakotay."
"Commander Chakotay is on holodeck two."
Kathryn sighed and walked on into her quarters. By her count, it was the fourth time in two days she had found him there. What was he doing? Pacing her room slowly, she debated as to whether she should join him. She had not seen him for longer than a few moments since she had left the planet, and at the moment it seemed like the only thing to do.
But what was he doing there? Running a programme of New Earth? She knew that he had taken a recording, even joined him there a few times. She also realised he had been accessing her recording of Lake George . . . but that somehow felt right. But now? She had to go to him, that much she knew. He would not make the first move, that had been his gift to her.
So, before she could change her mind, Kathryn stepped back outside and along the corridors to the holodeck. Taking a deep breath she keyed in the over-ride codes and moved inside the holodeck. The doors slid behind her and she quietly whispered the security lock. Then she looked around. *I know this place * was her first cognitive thought, before the realization made her stagger backwards. A few minor changes aside, Kathryn found herself standing once again in the Klex confinement cell.
And then she saw him.
But it was not a Chakotay she had ever known. She watched silently, her heart quietly breaking, as Chakotay systematically slammed into Klex soldiers. She watched him spin out, kick and then slam his body into the holographic images. She had often wondered what Chakotay the Maquis was like, and she realised that this is what she was seeing now. This was not the Chakotay who had shown her animal guide, or the Chakotay who had made her the bathtub. This was not even the Chakotay who had sobbed over her dead body, begging her to breath. No, this Chakotay was one who was intent on simply on the destruction of a unbreakable opposition.
Kathryn stood, rooted to her spot. Is this what we have become? She wondered. Something Kes had said earlier flitted through her mind "People deal with things in their own way . . " Is this how he was dealing with it? Is this his regret?
"Chakotay." She whispered, needing him to stop, wanting him to stop.
But he didn't hear. He couldn't hear. She didn't notice the tears that were sliding down her face until they hit her hands.
She crossed the room to him, silently. Sliding a hand across his back, she wiped the tears from her eyes. The next thing she knew, she was flying across the holodeck, her already tender back connecting sharply with the wall. And Chakotay was standing before her, breathing heavily, and raging against something she was scared to consider.
"Captain-" He bent over, catching his breath. "Oh god, it's you. I thought-"
"-At ease Commander." She picked herself up from the floor.
"I thought you were a Klex." He said softly, not meeting her eyes.
"Chakotay." She stepped forward. Choosing his name.
"Don't Kathryn. Please." He stepped back. "You should go."
"Chakotay, please." Kathryn stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her. "Talk to me. What's going on here?"
"You should go." He repeated again, almost growling. "I don't want to hurt you."
"I'm not going anywhere." Chakotay looked at her for a long moment and then turned away.
"Computer, resume programme." He snapped. Almost immediately a Klex guard sprang at him and in a swift movement, Chakotay had him by the throat and snapped his neck.
"It wasn't like this." He muttered to himself. "It wasn't this easy. Computer, increase Klex strength by a factor of four."
"That would breach holodeck safety parameters. Please restate-"
"-Over-ride safety over-lock. Authorization Chakotay-"
"-Computer, belay that order." Kathryn interrupted. Chakotay spun to look at her. "Don't." She said softly, reaching out for him again. This time he didn't move away, and she could feel him trembling under her touch. What scared her was that she didn't know why: passion, anger or lust? All she knew was that she had to find out.
"We have to talk about this Chakotay." She took his hands, deliberately. Knowing that he would not hurt her. Hoping that he would not hurt her.
"I can't talk about it Kathryn. Not now." He looked at their hands, clasped together.
"Look at me." She whispered, a finger under his chin, forcing their eyes to meet and steeling herself against the emotions when they did. "What's going on here?"
There was an awful silence, and she was too scared to move her finger from his face in case she lost him forever. She needed some kind of connection, however small, to her Chakotay. In the silence that followed, she realised there was so much that she wanted to tell him, so much that he should know. Images flashed in her mind - Justin, Admiral Paris, sitting in the San Francisco Bay waiting for the sun to rise before taking her first command, the Klex. She wanted to tell him it all. Wanted to know that he would understand the images, even when she didn't.
And still he was standing in silence before her.
"The things they did to you . . ." He stopped, looking away.
"The Klex?"
"Yes, the Klex." He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I've done those things. Me."
"When you were in the Maquis." She asked, staring at him, not quite sure if she would ever be prepared for this conversation. He just nodded.
"It was . . . it was a different situation Chakotay."
"Why? Because I was a freedom fighter?" He asked sarcastically.
"Yes. Exactly because of that."
"It doesn't make any difference."
"It makes all the difference. It's what separates you from them."
"What did they do to you?" He asked suddenly.
"They beat me." She began, unsure of his question.
"And?"
"And . . . and they tied to me to some kind of table and used some sort of plasma ray. I don't . . . I can't really remember."
"Why? Why did they do it?"
"They wanted technology. Information."
"And so did I." He said simply. And then he turned. "Computer, restore holographic images. Strength factor-"
"-So this is what you are going to do?" Kathryn was suddenly angry. "For the rest of your life on this ship, you're going to fight computer images?"
"Maybe. I don't know. Jesus, I just don't know." Chakotay spun back around again, looking at her angrily. "I just can't fucking do this anymore with you Kathryn. One step forward, six hundred steps backwards. And I'm left here like this dog who's happy that he's being petted. It's pathetic. And I just can't do it anymore."
"Do you think I know? I don't Chakotay. This whole trip . . . I feel like I'm some cosmic joke - I'm just waiting for Q to spring up and say 'Surprise!!'. It's all gone so wrong."
"Well then we both have regrets in common, don't we?" He snarled, in a low, low voice. It bristled her, and she rose to the challenge, returning in an equally low voice.
"Listen to me Chakotay. You are not the Klex. You were fighting for a reason, for a course. You were fighting for your family. Not a replicator."
"How do you know what they were fighting for? How do you know what their reasons were?"
"I don't, but-"
'-but, nothing. We're the same. Torture is torture Kathryn. And the truth is, I am no better than the Klex. In another world that could have been me beating you."
"But it isn't another world Chakotay, it's here. And here you are not a torturer. Here you supported the decision to save the lives of the entire Ocampan race at your own personal detriment."
"But you know what I've done."
"Who I am to place judgment on your life? It's up to you, it's always been up to you."
"And from now on, you look at me and see a reminder of the Klex, isn't that right?"
"Dammit, Chakotay!! What do you want me to say?"
"There is nothing you can say Kathryn, that's my point."
"And my point is that I understand you!! Is that what you've wanted me to say, all this time? I understand." There was total silence as her words sunk in. She plowed forward, wanting to force the words out before she lost the courage, her voice breaking a little as she spoke. "That treaty was *wrong*. It was wrong. It was possibly the worst thing that the Federation has ever done - political compromises, they kill us all. We sold out our own people, for godsakes! We let them die, for a piece of paper. It was wrong." She stopped, pacing a little in front of him. "I tried to think what I would do - if it was my family slaughtered. I'd join the Maquis. In another world, I would be fighting with you."
Silence again. She stood, her heart beating madly, waiting for his reply.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" He whispered, looking more like a little boy than a commander of a starship.
"I didn't know before." She replied, her head spinning trying to comprehend everything that she had just said.
"Another regret, then." Chakotay said wryly, as he turned and walked to the door. "A shame, Captain, because we would have been so good together."
His words washed over her ears with a tinge of disbelief. What was he saying? She had just handed him her heart on a platter. How could he be walking away?
"Turn around Commander, that's a goddamn order." She could only hear her breath as he turned, eyes blazing wildly. It was all she needed to know. "Come her." She whispered, drawing him to her. He resisted for a second, and then moved, as if some monumental decision had been made. Silently, calculating, he slammed his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. They stood there for a long time, pressed up against the wall, bodies touching and staring at each other. They matched uneven breaths, pulled in between teeth, as they both contemplated the inevitable actions that were to follow.
"C'mon Chakotay." She finally said, staring at him. Almost in fast action he lifted her to his waist, pushing the breath out of her as he kissed her angrily. Kathryn wrapped her legs around his waist as she scraped her nails across the back of her neck, purring softly. She felt his hands at her top, fumbling until finally he ripped the material away. She felt the stones of the cell dig into her back as she bent to bite his neck and shoulders, claiming them as hers.
"You don't know how long. . ." He murmured as he gathered her hands in his, pushing her body back against the wall, pinning her arms to the wall. Trailing the other arm across her body, roughly touching every part of her.
"C'mon Chakotay." She whispered, head held back, watching him. He stopped just then, matching her gaze. She arched her back towards him and he shook his head, laughing.
"Not yet Kathryn." He began an excruciating caress of her body, starting at her neck, flicking all over her body. She struggled a little against his hands, but it was as if some unspoken agreement had been made - this was for her.
"Do you want to go to your-"
"-No." She stopped him. "I want you now. Here."
"Here?" He asked, looking around the Klex cell, slowly gaining his breath. She didn't answer, just leaned forward and kissed him slowly. It was their first slow, passionate kiss and Chakotay slowly let her arms go as he reached for her neck, cradling her head, caressing her hair. She slowly slipped to her feet and was pushed back up against the wall, as they both began the journey started years and years ago.
Neither were sure when the switch from passionate to just plain lust took over, but all of a sudden Kathryn was pulling Chakotay to the floor, desperately wanting to feel his body on hers, giving in to urges she'd been fighting for years. "I want to feel you now Chakotay." She whispered in his ear, as he tried to gain some sort of footing that would not squash her.
"I don't want to hurt you Kathryn." He said, repeating words from earlier. She thought perhaps she had never heard anything sexier in her life.
"Don't make me rip your clothes off, mister." She said, laughing. The breath caught in her throat when she realised that he was staring at her intently. He didn't say a word, instead just lightly cupped the side of her face and kissed her gently on the forehead.
"You have no idea what you do to me, Kathryn." He said, his voice uneven and full of an emotion she wasn't sure she could name. It was having the same effect on her, and she smiled, not wanting to lose herself in it all, just yet.
"I think I have some idea." She wriggled her hips against him, having felt him grow hard a long way back.
And then it began again. Clothes off, his hands braced either side of her head, her back arched to reach up and kiss him. Watching drips of sweat fall from his chin, feeling him move inside her, slowly and luxuriously. Aware of fingers digging into skin as he moved faster, urging him on, flipping him over and remaining still, wanting to keep him inside forever, slowly rocking, being turned on side, giving up control, just holding on, wanting to hold on forever, wanting to hold on forever . . .
Later on in the evening, lying in his cabin, the feeling came again. She could no more name it than before, but she told him just the same. She accepted the fact that sometimes he would understand, sometimes she would, something they would just have to hold on. Forever.