Disclaimer: Paramount of course, owns all, except the festive season ;-)

Fade Into Me

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Kathryn can feel Chakotay's warm hand deliberately gliding a fraction lower, sliding from a formerly highly respectable position level with her waist, to rest just above her lumbar spine. The subtle manoeuvre attracts her attention and she tilts her chin upwards slightly to enable a better look at him. Narrowing eyes at his familiarity, she doesn't have chance to pass comment as the tempo of the music in the ballroom suddenly slows to a romantic ballad and there is a corresponding exodus from the dance floor. Silently, he smiles pulling her closer, their bodies threatening to make total contact as his hand moves again, this time edging dangerously close to her derrière.

"Chakotay"

His name crosses her lips with an affectionately soft hiss, accompanied by a hint of warning.

His reply is to raise dark eyebrows innocently and maddeningly try a muted version of his dimpled grin on her, of all people. Pulling her face into her best mock frown in response, she suspects from his expression, that she's fooling no-one. Eying the periphery of the room through the thinned crowd of dancers, she notes that his risqué move has caught the attention of a number of the more observant (and more sober) of their former Crew, who are now regarding them both with more than a passing degree of interest.

A sudden surge of warmth starts at her décolletage before rising slowly in a tidal motion towards her throat, at exactly the same time as his tall, muscular body is moving ever closer. She swallows as her heart rate starts to climb and, all too aware of the effect that he is having on her, tries to assert some control.

"People are starting to stare, Commander."

Amused at hearing his rank, he throws his head back and laughs softly, before suddenly relinquishing her hand and pulling her torso flush against him, wrapping around her tightly. She's not sure that she remembers to breathe, but somehow that doesn't matter, the overwhelming need to be close to him, greater than that for air. He leans down, eyes twinkling and relaxes his hold just a little, nuzzling her neck while whispering into her ear.

"Oh no you don't Kathryn. Tonight we're off duty. It's just you and me."

She is forced to suppress a slight moan as his warm breath caresses her skin, sending subtly electric tremors of pleasure racing along her spine. A part of her is unwilling to acquiesce and she fights, using all of her remaining self-control to arch her eyebrows while attempting to squirm free of his arms just a little. He easily keeps her encased and worse still, she feels his hand start to wander again.

"You wouldn't dare," she tries to protest crisply.

But she knows that he would, that he will.

With approximately one hundred and fifty people and their extended families present, he has apparently decided that now is their time. For the briefest of moments, she tries and then fails to be angry, he has been discreet and she supposes that it is only fair, but his hand still concerns her, she knows only too well the potential for trouble it poses. Apparently satisfied that she isn't thinking of going anywhere, he retakes her hand and continues to lead as they dance, elegantly negotiating other couples all the while moving in harmony. The appearance of normality restored for now, she allows herself to relax a fraction. Exchanging smiles with Harry and Libby, who are standing at the edge of the dance floor talking to Mike and his wife, she wonders idly if it is her imagination or if Harry's cheeks have a faint flush of pink, perhaps a side-effect of the Champagne that is freely flowing.

"Do you trust me Kathryn?"

The question calls her attention back to her dance partner.

"That depends."

He grins at her again and his fingers start to play lightly with the hem along the backless edge of her dress. Made of a midnight blue and cut on the bias, it is draped over one shoulder before falling down her back in a river of silk. The soft, sensual material caresses, a stark contrast to the form fitting command red that has for so long been her second skin. It moves freely as they dance, making her feel feminine, desirable, without (she hopes) appearing inappropriate. She has chosen to largely forego jewellery, save for a small pair of round amber earrings, her hair coiled at the base of her neck, held in place with a selection of small amber pins accentuated with pearls. Upon seeing the full effect, Chakotay declared himself mesmerised and she has caught his eyes appreciatively following her around the room throughout the entire evening.

He clarifies. "To know what's good for you?"

She hesitates, unable to suppress a small coy smile which he takes as his cue.

"Tonight Kathryn Janeway, we're going to have a little fun."

Hearing this definitive, she is equal parts apprehensive and exhilarated, but before she can protest, his hand slides over the base of her spine and onto her bottom which he proceeds to caress. She bites her lip, unable to stop her body melting under his touch, her hips instinctively press forward and as his lips brush against her neck; she feels her face flushing at the pleasure the contact elicits.

She is jolted abruptly back to reality, by the unmistakable sound of a Champagne flute smashing as it hits the floor. When she opens her eyes, Chakotay's face is close and he is smirking slightly.

"Mmm... I think that we may have just killed Harry Kim."

Before she can prevent it, a soft, slightly girlish giggle escapes, "I think..." she manages, slightly breathlessly, "that Mr Kim's apparent demise can be directly attributed to your actions alone."

He raises his eyebrows, a seriously wicked look crossing his features. Staring at him, she re-absorbs every detail of his face, tracing the outline of his tattoo, the kind lines around his eyes, memorising the curve of his jaw as he leans in again to brush his lips against her earlobe.

"The Captain has done her job, she got us home. Tonight, I just want to dance."

"Is that all?"

Her voice is husky and she can't tear her eyes away; her attention totally diverted by his still wandering hand. They have stopped dancing and stand completely still, enveloped by the blur of slow movement, soft music and warm lights. Intoxicated, she willingly gives in to the sensation, closing her eyes and inhaling the scent of him as he bends to murmur softly to her, his check coming to rest gently against hers.

"Well now that you mention it..."

At this invitation, she tilts her face upwards and he drops the hand he was holding and pulls her forward into a tender embrace. His fingers gently brush a wisp of hair aside before finding the back of her neck and guiding her lips to meet his. Her left arm wraps appreciatively around his waist and she deepens the kiss just a little, cupping his face with her free hand. Not wanting to stop, she begins to see stars before he pulls back allowing her to breathe.

It is at that moment that she remembers where they are and realises that the room has fallen into a stunned silence. She does nothing, her entire being locked into a trance as the events of the past week whirl around her slightly foggy brain. As coherent thought returns she wonders just when in those seven years she fell so totally and completely in love. Suddenly, she is abruptly pulled back into the present as the room erupts into a deafening wave of applause. A little lightheaded from the kiss and two glasses of Champagne on an empty stomach, the figures blur slightly and she leans against his chest while trying to bring things back into full focus. Sensing her momentary disorientation, his arms tighten around her protectively.

"I've got you Kathryn - always."

"I know." she manages to whisper in response, glad for everything that has happened between them and utterly past caring who knows it.

The applause starts to die down and she becomes aware of the sound of a fork tapping against crystal. Regaining some semblance of control, she lifts her head and rearranges her hair in time to see Tom sauntering towards them from the far side of the room. The other couples have hastily vacated the dance floor and they find themselves surrounded by a circle of their former Crew, the majority of whom are holding onto barely concealed grins while others openly gawp, their jaws slack.

When Tom reaches them, his face too, is slightly flushed and he wears a wide smile. Chakotay releases her to stand beside him, one arm around her waist, his hand still a little too low for her Captain's brain's comfort. Tom pauses to say something to Chakotay who replies with words that she doesn't catch. Turning to her, he takes one hand and kisses the top of it chastely, bowing slightly as he does so. A typically theatrical Paris gesture that breaks the tension in the air, creating a flutter of kind laughter and putting her at ease. Exactly, she realises gratefully, as it is designed to do.

Next, he claps Chakotay jovially on the shoulder before shaking his hand, eliciting more than a few slightly confused expressions from those surrounding. Tapping his glass again, Tom turns slowly to address the crowd.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I believe that this is an appropriate moment for a toast. As you all know, I'm a man famed for my charm and tact and apparently we are celebrating a little more than just a return to the Alpha Quadrant tonight?"

He looks questioningly at Kathryn who feels her cheeks colour a little under the scrutiny of every single pair of eyes in the room before dipping her head to give just the merest hint of a nod. Her gesture is instantly understood for the confirmation that it is, and results in a hearty ripple of applause and a few wolf whistles. Tom winks at her affectionately before raising his voice a notch to be better heard over the background murmuring.

"In all seriousness - Commander, Captain, words cannot express how much we all want to thank you both, for getting Voyager back safely and for each and every sacrifice that you have made over the last seven years. I cannot think of two people who have thought of themselves less and of their Crew more. We can never repay that debt; we owe our lives to your inspirational leadership and determination. You never gave up on getting us home and we want you to know that you will always have our admiration and our loyalty."

He pauses as people clap again and Kathryn feels her eyes fill with tears, a few of which overspill and run down her cheeks. Hastily, she brushes them away and Chakotay squeezes her hand, blinking away a tear or two of his own.

Paris has the room now and is enjoying his moment.

"I know that everyone here would agree that no two people are truly more deserving of the happiness that you have found." He turns back towards them, an exaggerated grimace on his face. "Even if I haven't personally been able to profit in replicator rations."

Laughter echoes around the ballroom again as waiters and waitresses circulate with additional trays of Champagne.

"It is my therefore my absolute pleasure ladies and gentlemen to ask that you raise your glasses and toast the Captain and the Commander. Please join me this evening in offering them our warmest congratulations, not only on this most welcome of homecoming celebrations, but also, I am reliably informed, on the occasion of their marriage earlier today."

As the three of them hear the collective gasp of surprise, he envelopes them both in a joint hug before stepping back to allow the crowd a better view and making a sweeping gesture, one arm outstretched. Through misty eyes, Kathryn catches Tom's and sees an expression of the most deeply honest affection. She reaches out for his hand and he takes hers and holds it tightly, tilting his head towards them both, raising the glass in his other hand as he does so.

"To the Captain and the Commander."

The toast is instantly followed by another thunderous round of applause, foot stamping, whoops and cheers. The noise is deafening and only stopped by the sound of Tom's glass once again. This time though, he has an all too familiar mischievous glint in his eye.

"I won't take up much more of your time fellow Crewmen..."

There are a few heckled comments at this and some more laughter, but it is as if they are awaiting his next move and the large room is suddenly stilled in an intense wave of anticipation. The air becomes eerily hushed, filled with an almost palpable current.

"As the majority of us apparently missed the ceremony..." Tom drawls, now thoroughly absorbed in his role as master of ceremonies. "I would like to formally request Commander, that at the very least, you find it in your heart to afford us the opportunity to see you kiss your exceptionally beautiful bride this evening."

Before she can protest and using his hold on her waist as leverage, Chakotay unexpectedly turns Kathryn around to yet more applause and to prevent her aiming a death glare at Paris she decides. Quiet chants of kiss, kiss, kiss grow subtly louder and Chakotay's dimpled grin tells her one thing.

"I think it would only be fair, don't you?"

Pretending to consider Tom's request, she waits, pursing her lips before apparently having a change of heart and allowing them to part slightly and a small smile to escape. Leaning towards Chakotay and wrapping her arms around his neck loosely, she whispers into his ear.

"As the entire crew are watching Commander, perhaps you could really make it count, this time?"

Her raised eyebrows are a challenge that he accepts instantly and he deftly dipping her backwards, one hand around her waist and the other supporting her neck and shoulders. She sees the ballroom lights twinkle above them, like thousands of tiny stars, each one a part of their journey home, as he leans forward and she loses herself in his deep brown eyes and the happiness they have finally found.