A/N: I recently re0 watched "State of Flux", and this scene came to mind. It may be the first of several added scenes exploring the development of Janeway and Chakotay's relationship, but for now, it stands alone. Many thanks to Mizvoy for the beta.

COMMON GROUND

By KJaneway115

"Your secrets weren't good enough. They wouldn't have been worth the trouble for a Cardassian agent. I had only one agenda with you, Chakotay, and I never kept it secret."

"I did it for you. I did it for this crew. We are alone here, at the mercy of any number of hostile aliens, because of the incomprehensible decision of a Federation captain. A Federation captain who destroyed our only chance to get home. Federation rules. Federation nobility. Federation compassion. Do you understand? If this had been a Cardassian ship, we would be home now."

"You are a fool, Captain, and you're a fool to follow her. I can't imagine how I ever loved you."

The words had been replaying in Chakotay's mind over and over again. Even several hours later, he kept hearing the echoes of Seska's voice in his head. The echoes of words upon words; not just the words she had spoken on this day, but years worth of words. Years worth of promises, professions of love and devotion, statements of loyalty and trust. Years worth of lies. Chakotay slammed his palm into the bulkhead.

The door chimed.

It took him a moment and several deep breaths to regain his senses. He gritted his teeth and then forced his jaw to relax long enough for him to say, "Come in." When he saw who was at the door, he was surprised. "Captain. What can I do for you?"

"Please, relax, Commander. Am I interrupting?"

Yes! he wanted to scream. Go away and leave me alone! Leave me to my own private hell - a hell you could never understand with your privileged background, always surrounded by loyal officers with distinguished Starfleet records. You have no business here, Janeway. But he couldn't speak that way to the captain, so instead, he said, in a tightly controlled tone, "Not at all. I was just about to get myself a cup of tea. Would you like one?"

"Coffee, if you can spare the rations."

"I think I can manage." He went to the replicator and ordered a cup of his favorite herbal tea and black coffee for Janeway. With his back to her, he forced his anger to cool and reined in his emotions.

"Thank you," she said as he handed her the steaming mug.

"Would you like to sit down, Captain?" he asked, gesturing to the sofa. She had only visited him in his quarters once or twice before, and always with some clear purpose. Her arrival unannounced and seemingly without any ship's business to discuss made him nervous.

She took his invitation and sat on the couch, gesturing for him to join her. He did, feeling strangely awkward alone with her. For two people whose backgrounds were so different, they'd easily slipped into a working relationship, and he never felt awkward with her in group social situations, or during their usual banter on the bridge. But something about her appearance in his quarters made him feel uneasy; it was uncharted territory for them. She took a sip of coffee and averted her eyes, seemingly feeling as nervous as he did.

"Can I help you with something, Captain?"

"No, no, Commander. Actually, I just came by to see how you were doing."

"Me? Oh, I'm fine." It was a bold faced lie, but he wasn't about to let this woman into his innermost thoughts at the moment.

She regarded him with a penetrating gaze, her blue eyes piercing his carefully constructed facade. "Well, then. You're dealing with this situation better than I am."

"Captain?" Chakotay didn't make any attempt to hide his surprise. He had witnessed Janeway's emotional reaction to Seska's disappearance from sickbay, but she rarely admitted any weakness. Certainly not to him.

"The idea that there could be a traitor aboard the ship was sickening enough. When Tuvok brought up the possibility in the turbolift, I couldn't even wrap my mind around it. Why would anyone aboard this ship betray us? Everyone knows what's at stake. We are in this together. I just couldn't understand why anyone would do such a thing." She paused, looking him up and down for a moment before continuing. "But the truth was even worse than that."

He remained silent. Chakotay had had enough of putting himself on the line. He'd had enough feeling and enough talking and enough trusting people who were only trying to use him for their own ends.

When he didn't speak, Janeway continued, "Chakotay, I feel betrayed, taken advantage of, used. And I barely knew Seska. She only served under my command for a few months, and I had no personal relationship with her, but I'm... hurt by what happened." She paused. "I can only imagine how you must feel."

He looked down into his tea and did not respond.

After a long moment of silence, Janeway stood. "I'll be going now. I'm sorry to disturb you."

She had reached the door when Chakotay called out, "Captain, wait." She turned back, whirling around on her heel, and for the briefest moment, before she found her composure, he saw a myriad of emotions play across her features - pain, anger, betrayal. He gestured to the sofa where she had been sitting. "Please don't go." Her face softened, and she returned to the couch. Now it was her turn to be silent, waiting for him to speak. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me. You came here to find out how I was doing, and I shut you out."

She shrugged. "I might do the same thing, if our positions were reversed."

He took a deep breath, trying to order his thoughts. "You asked how I'm doing. I don't even know how to answer that question, to be honest. I'm confused, I guess, more than anything. I keep looking back over the past few years. I wonder, was any of it real? Was everything she ever said to me a lie? Was our entire relationship a sham? She said today she can't believe she ever loved me, but how can I believe she ever did love me? And who was the woman that I cared for? Surely not her; I didn't even know who the hell she really was." His fists balled up in his lap, and he desperately wanted to punch something. He continued, "And that was just the personal side. I can't even begin to contemplate the other implications. A Cardassian spy aboard my ship? What did she learn from me that she sent back to her slimy, conniving, ruthless bosses? How many Maquis died because of what I told her? How many of my own people's deaths are on my shoulders?" He was shaking now, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.

Janeway reached out hesitantly, almost afraid that if she touched him, he would unleash his anger on her. But her overwhelming sense of compassion won out over her trepidation, and she reached out and grasped his shoulder firmly. "Chakotay. Chakotay, look at me." He had buried his face in his hands, and it took several moments before he raised his eyes to hers. "First of all, you will never know the answer to that question. And second, any Maquis who died because of intelligence Seska sent to the Cardassians, those deaths are on her, not on you. None of us saw beyond her facade. Not Tuvok, not me, not Lieutenant Torres. You can't blame yourself."

He shrugged her hand away. "Don't you blame yourself for not being able to see through her ruse? How many Kazon died in that explosion caused by our technology? Don't you feel just the least bit responsible for that?"

The captain slumped back against the sofa. "Yes, I do. I won't lie to you about that."

Chakotay saw her defeated body language and immediately felt guilty for saddling her with that burden. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

She leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees. "I'm sure we could both spend a lot of time thinking about the things we regret, or the things that, when we look back, we realize we should have done or seen. But the fact is, we can't go back, and it won't do either of us any good to dwell on the past or on the mistakes we've made. We need to move forward. That's the only way we're going to be able to work together and the only way we're going to be able to get this crew home."

He let her words sink in for a moment before he responded. "You're right. But I can't just forget the past or pretend it never happened or pretend it doesn't affect me. I won't allow it to affect my duties. I can promise you that, Captain. But it's going to take me a long time to square with Seska, and to square with myself."

Janeway became very quiet and still for a moment, and then she said, in a gentler tone than he'd ever heard her use, "I know you won't allow this to affect your duties. I didn't come here tonight because I was concerned about that. I came here as a friend." She paused, and then added very quietly, "And as someone who knows that the hardest thing is often forgiving oneself."

Chakotay regarded her closely for a moment, wondering what she meant by that. She was obviously speaking from personal experience, but she had already shared a great deal more with him than he had expected, and he decided it was not the right time to ask her meaning. I came here as a friend. The words echoed in his mind, and he was struck by their apparent sincerity. She hadn't come as his captain, concerned about his job performance or out of some sense of duty. She'd had no selfish motive. She had come out of genuine empathy and concern for him. He thought about her compared to Seska, a woman who had used him for her own purposes and who had always had a purely selfish motive. Janeway was different. He had known it the minute she had told him he wouldn't need his weapon, that first day on the bridge. Seska's parting words came back to him, and Chakotay looked at Janeway, finally finding it within himself to offer her a small smile. "Seska was wrong, you know."

"About what?"

"You're not a fool, Captain. And I may have done lots of things in my life that I regret, but choosing to follow you isn't one of them."

She looked away, her expression unreadable to him. "You might want to reserve judgment on that, Commander."

"Oh no," he countered. "I'm quite sure that's one decision I'm never going to regret." Then, she smiled, and he saw some of the hurt in her eyes begin to fade. It occurred to Chakotay that perhaps he had been wrong about her privileged Starfleet background. Maybe they shared more common ground than he knew.