A/N: For MiaCooper. Inspired by Of Kings and Fortune by MiaCooper.

Part of a self-indulgent series of Discovery x Voyager. Mia delivered my Janeway/Lorca. Then said "oohhh. Maybe we need a Chakotay POV. Hint. Hint."

How could I resist?
Please read hers first.

Every moment she is gone is one moment too long.

He's been watching the clock for twelve straight hours, counting down, trying desperately to stay occupied, to stem the rising tide of questions from the crew, to keep the thoughts of where she is – and when she is – out of his mind.

Actually, he'd rather think about where and when she is, than whom she is with.

He's known men like Captain Gabriel Lorca before. Unscrupulous, ruthless men who would do whatever it takes to succeed, even if it means destroying a future to which they are not entitled. His concern for her safety grows with each passing second.

Twelve hours in. Twenty-four more to go. In reality, it's hundreds of thousands of hours that separate them now. She feels, more than ever, impossibly far away.

The unstoppable force of his competing thoughts surge ahead again like a stallion struggling in a losing race.

This isn't just a stab and grab mission. She's having real conversations with real people. She's eating their food, being shown around their ship. If she's lucky, she's travelling to other impossible places courtesy of her host.

If Lorca's technology is anything close to what history claims, she could be farther from Earth right now than Voyager is. Or she could be standing on her great-grandfather's farm.

There's no way for him to know what she's doing, this overprotective need has him frustrated. He also can't stay awake the whole time she's gone, a realization that comes with an alarm. Because if he is tired, then so is she.

At some point, she will be vulnerably asleep.

In all likelihood she's sleeping right now.

Or, she's not.

He huffs stale air into the room and stands to stretch. Bare feet on carpet, hard floor beneath the soles of his feet, he begins pacing.

He knows Kathryn Janeway better than she knows herself most days. He understands how, in light of recent technological acquisitions, the lure of discovery and the possibility for a quick trip is more than enough of a carrot dangled to draw her a century into the past. Temporal directives be damned, the woman wants to go home. He fears she may break if she doesn't get there soon.

He hopes, deeply, that she finds what she's looking for soon, or that she is so thoroughly and utterly discouraged that she gives up trying before she runs out of chances.

He wouldn't wager on the latter.

But, of course, it's not the technology that scares him, it's the man behind it. History has a way of villainizing heroes and making heroes from villains. The simple fact that history contradicts itself when it comes to Lorca makes him all the more suspicious a character. All the more dangerous. And, for Kathryn Janeway, he knows, all the more appealing.

He compulsively checks the computer again. The one concession that she granted him was access to Starfleet's classified files. He reads the famed Captain's biography line by line, then the logs from Discovery during the time that Kathryn is experiencing now.

So far, nothing has changed. She's preserving the timeline.

Twenty-four hours to go.

She's back.

His eyes trace her from head to toe, craving the immediate assurance that she's alright.

Her appeasing smile tells him that in fact, she is fine. She looks altogether whole, still clad in a pristine uniform, carrying the bag she took with her. For an instant, it feels as if she's never left.

Satisfied for the state of her health and demeanor, the next question is, was she successful? He tilts his head and she holds her open palms to the ceiling briefly, letting them fall to her sides, indicating once again that her search has been in vain.

And now he will again be the one she leans on while she recovers from disappointment. The one who offers guarded encouragement for the rest of their long journey.

He takes the carry bag from her shoulder and offers an arm that she does not accept.

"No luck?"

"Not exactly," she admits. "I doubt there's a quick trip home for Voyager to be had with Lorca's technology. But I'll tell you, it was certainly worth a try."

"I'm glad to hear that at least. What was he like? What did he show you?"

"He's an… interesting man. Driven. Clever. Very self-assured. He reminds me of someone else we met not long ago."

Chakotay files that last fact away for later and then muses, "So history has been an accurate judge of character?"

"There were some things that history neglected to relay, but mostly, yes. He was what I expected. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was in the presence of a very powerful ghost."

"In a way, you were. Lorca's been dead for decades."

"Yes," she says with the whisper of a sigh. "I suppose even kings succumb to the passage of time."

Then, for a reason he can't define but will later regret, he has to ask. "You didn't warn him, did you?"

"No," she snaps to attention with a bite in her voice. "Of course not." And for a moment he is taken aback at her anger. Or is it frustration at his distrust of her ability to keep past-futures secure?

She clears her throat and begins again. "I assure you, the timeline remains intact, as is evidenced by the fact that we are all still here. And, as for what he showed me…" she pauses and he can see that she's considering her words carefully. "Someday, I'll tell you most everything. But not now, the trip took more out of me than I expected."

"Then, you should get some rest. Tuvok has the bridge for another hour before I relieve him. Take as much time as you need."

She nods and heads for the exit doors but not before requesting that her bag and it's precious contents be delivered safely to B'Elanna.

"Kathryn," he asks suddenly, causing her to halt her steps. "Will you be going back?"

A hush falls between them, her back stiffens slightly.

"I'm not sure. I haven't decided yet."

She continues away but pauses just before the doors open. From the hidden pocket inside her waistband he watches as she carefully retrieves something. A scrap of paper, perhaps?

She smooths it flat between her fingertips, giving it a final moment of attention.

With an odd smile she walks back to him and he waits, unsure.

"I did learn something important from Gabriel though," she says, softly, handing him the slip. "Fortune favors the bold, Chakotay. Advice we'd do well to heed, and not just in our pursuit of going home. We must not forget to live while we exhaust every option in getting there."

*The fortune cookie slip from Mia's fic reads: The past belongs to the past, now the time is right for a new beginning.

Please read her follow up entitled: "Forever in One Second"

My grateful thanks to CarlynRoth for her prompt and helpful beta.