A/N: The obligatory "Endgame" fix story :P This was inspired by a line for The Wedding Date that is included towards the end. Oh, in this story Chakotay and Seven did date but have recently broken up. Hope you enjoy! :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Slave To Love
Chakotay was ashamed to admit how long it took him to realise that he was being childish.
She had asked for his help with meeting the press; something about presenting a "united front." He knew she'd been joking but something in her eyes as she said "united" had caused him to snap.
What had followed was a torrent of words in which he had vented seven years of pent up frustration about how she took but never gave. About how she could feel guilty about what she did at the array, but never for what she was doing to him.
"So you know what, Kathryn? We're home now; I'm no longer at your beck and call. Find some other fool," he'd spat out at the end of his tirade.
He'd then watched in morbid fascination as shock, disbelief, hurt and, finally, anger had chased themselves across her face.
He had braced himself for her reply, this was how they worked: they would yell it out and move on. At least, that was how they had been working recently.
She was so upset that he could see her shaking and he wondered briefly whether she'd hit him.
But she didn't.
Instead she had turned her back and ordered him to get out.
He'd stared at her for a long time, resisting the urge to shake her and demand to know what her response was to what he'd told her.
But he didn't.
He just walked away.
He'd been walking ever since, mulling over the encounter and wondering if this was the end of their friendship. It was not the end he had imagined, he'd always believed their friendship wouldn't end but evolve to the next level. Not even Seven had been able to distract him from Kathryn, she'd always been there in his thoughts and by his side.
As he thought about it he realised that she had always been there in a different sense as well. He had been the one to expect more, he had given himself to her completely whereas she'd given a piece of herself to everyone. He should have seen how much her giving nature was taking its toll on her and tried to make her burdens lighter, like he'd once promised.
He should have been satisfied with the knowledge that he knew her better than anyone and that, someday, she would be his alone.
Now when she was finally free of her responsibilities, free to give herself to him just as he had given himself to her all those years ago, he'd thrown it back in her face like a spoiled child.
His only hope was her forgiveness.
He made his way back to where she was staying and, using a highly illegal manoeuvre, let himself in.
He found her right where he'd left her: staring out of the window with her back to the door. He remembered the many times on Voyager when he'd found her in that exact same pose. The only difference now was how defeated she looked, even from behind.
"I thought I told you to leave," she said flatly, not turning around.
"I did leave, but I decided I couldn't leave things as they were."
"I never thought you were a fool Chakotay," she said quietly, as though he hadn't spoken, he caught the quaver in her voice and hated himself for hurting her.
"I know. I'm sorry; I never should have said those things to you."
"But you meant them."
"Only in the heat of the moment," he admitted. "I was angry," he continued as he began to make his way over to her, "and I was going to leave you. But then I realised," he came to stop just outside her personal space, "I'd rather fight with you than make love with anyone else."
She turned around to face him and Chakotay noticed that she'd been crying, "I'd prefer not to fight at all," she told him in a whisper.
He smiled as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
The timing was all wrong: he'd always imagined a more romantic setting, but somehow it was still the right time for him to tell her. Now that all of the parameters and regulations were gone.
"I love you," he said, pulling her into a comforting embrace, "and I was rather hoping you might love me enough to forgive me."
He felt her smile against his chest, "I think I love you enough for that," she told him, pulling back a little to look in his eyes, "and then some," she added, making hum smile.
"Well, we'll certainly have a story to tell the press now, won't we?" he teased as she snuggled back into his arms.
"You'll come with me then?" she asked, peering up at him.
He laughed, "Kathryn Janeway, regardless of what some idiot (who shall remain nameless) said to you earlier, I am, and always will be, your slave."
"Well, in that case," she began in a teasing tone.
"Coffee, black," they both said together and laughed.