Title: Kiss as Pilgrims do.
Author: Jcrycolr3wradc
A/N: Anyone else note all the hand symbolism between Kathryn and Chakotay? Lots of touching and hand holding and the scene on New Earth. So I spat this out. It's a little pretentious and un-beta. So fair warning.
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss
Act 1 Scene 5
-Romeo and Juliet
Their hands were so different!
Pale and soft with practical nails, long enough to be feminine but short enough that she was always able to type in commands the first time. No polish as dictated by protocol, but if it was absolutely necessary, then it was pale pink, like the inside of a seashell or painted flowers on china.
Dark and wide and strong. The fingers weren't long or tapered enough to be a piano player's or a surgeon, but they were sure hands that could do a million different practical things. Finger tips broad enough to hit the button of the first try.
They both had the same micro scaring though, small scratches and cuts and nicks that remained ingrained because there wasn't a dermal regenerator on hand and even if there was, both were quite convinced someone else needed it more. Cuts from paneling, or rocks and burns from electrical fires. Scratches from just not caring enough to avoid them.
Not that you would ever notice these. Not unless you were up close and too personal.
Her hands were always active! Typing, clutching, grabbing, patting, resting. Slamming on the rails, or on the arm rest or on an arm, or a shoulder or a chest. On her hips, in the air, folded and on that dangerous occasion, on a weapon. She didn't even realize what they did and said half the time.
His hands seemed to always be in control. Deliberate hands trained to handle things as they came. Excellent reflexes. Always on the defensive. Behind his back, in front of him. When he was nervous, or embarrassed, he shifted and tugged on his ear. Sometimes he mirrored her, as if joking. Tilting his body at an angle to hers and putting his hands on his hips. Both of them grinning like children.
Which was ridiculous. But maybe that was the humor part of it. The absurd dichotomy of it all. Lost and found. Isolated, yet surrounded. Alone, together. All at the same time.
His hands seem to always be protecting her. They guided and held and built.
Hers seemed obsessed with him. They grabbed and held and wrapped.
They seemed to find a middle ground here. Twined together, contrasting, yet exactly the same. Feeling the pulse of the other through the palm.
Together.
Holding one palm against another is like a kiss
-No fear Shakespeare Romeo and Juliet
Act 1 Scene 5