Title: Dinner Date
Author: Megara79
Series: Star Trek: Voyager
Rating: K
Summary: After Culluh and Seska have taken Voyager and stranded the crew on Hanon IV, Kathryn and Chakotay share a moment.
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Thanks to: Missyhissy, for being another fab and speedy beta job. She also supplied the title, which in my opinion is awesome! Take a bow!
A/N: This fic, like Turn My Grief to Grace, was written for VAMBs Secret Drabble, and for Lissy, who supplied the first line.
The sky was bright, the air cool and fresh, but Kathryn's heart wasn't open to the beauty of nature.
In spite of the barren wasteland, the numerous rock formations were striking, their shape accentuated by the faint glow of an erupting volcano glittering in the distance. Had she not been stranded on an unknown planet with her ship in enemy hands, she could have easily recognised how striking the desert was, but the scenery was lost on her as she worried about the crew and considered their next move. Night was falling and it was only going to get colder. Mealworms notwithstanding, they still hadn't found much in terms of food. With the added worry of the planet's seismic activity, its indigenous people, and the unknown threat that had killed Hogan, it was hard to see a way out of this. Their only hope of escape was Tom, but they didn't even know if his ship had made it to the Talaxian convoy.
Kathryn clenched her jaw, and allowed herself the indulgence of envisioning knocking Culluh and Seska off her ship with her bare fists.
The thought wasn't charitable, but neither was her mood.
"Dinner?"
Her reverie was cut short by the hand that appeared in front of her face. A reluctant chuckle escaped her and she turned her head to look at him.
"Neelix said you hadn't eaten," he shrugged.
"First officer and a personal chef. My, am I lucky."
Chakotay ducked his head, trying to smother his grin, and sat down next to her. His hand hovered expectantly between them, her dinner wriggling in his palm.
Kathryn pulled a face, her stomach rolling in protest at the maggots in his hand. "Maybe later."
Chakotay raised an unimpressed eyebrow in her general direction, and for a split second Kathryn wanted to laugh. "Have you been taking lessons from Tuvok?" she asked.
"Everyone else has eaten, and you were the one who told them not to balk at the cuisine," he smiled innocently at her. "You wouldn't want to set a bad example in front of your first officer, would you?"
She glared at him. "Fine. But if I eat, you eat."
Chakotay started to protest. "Captain—"
She cut him off. "Don't you Captain me, Commander. Those are the rules."
Even in the state she was in, hair in disarray, smudge on her forehead and clothing torn, the command tone was unquestionable. There was a short-lived battle of wills that ended with Chakotay rolling his eyes in begrudged defeat.
He grabbed her hand, and placed half of the worms into her open palm. "Bottoms up," he grumped and they swallowed their meal in unison.
Kathryn shuddered as the worms slid down her throat. Next to her Chakotay gagged, but managed to keep the contents down after a few deep breaths.
"I think I prefer your tomato salad," Kathryn managed, and felt Chakotay go still next to her. It was the first time since their rescue that either of them had brought up anything related to New Earth. Kathryn shook her head in silent derision. This was not the time or the place. She kept her eyes on the scenery, and hoped he'd let it pass. When he finally spoke, his reply was so unexpected that she couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"You do know the secret ingredient to that salad was ground up worms, right?"
"You lie!"
Chakotay's chortle warmed her insides and kept a smile on her face even as they sobered. "Thank you for dinner," she said, bumping her shoulder against his. "And the laugh."
He grinned back. "You're welcome." The mirth only lasted for a moment, his smile slowly dwindling as he cupped her chin and gently turned her face to examine her right cheek.
"I'm fine," she told him, a hint of exasperation creeping into her voice. She flinched in spite of herself when he touched the bruise Cullah's back-hand had awarded her.
"It must hurt." He carefully stroked the spot.
"I'll live."
"When Tom gets here, you're going straight to the Doctor."
She moved out of his grip, her eyes finding his. The strain of the day suddenly clawed at her, and she couldn't keep the frustration and uncertainty from settling in her features. "You think Tom made it?"
"Tom's been dodging phaser fire his entire adult life. If anyone can escape the Kazon, it's him."
Kathryn drew her breath and willed herself to calm. Chakotay was right. She had to put Voyager out of her mind and have faith that Tom would reach the Talaxians. She had to keep her focus. There were too many dangers lurking around on the ground for her attention to keep being distracted by what was happening in the sky.
"What's our status?"
"The solar stills are up and running. B'Elanna and Harry have taken another team out to hunt for food. Tuvok is making progress on the weapons, but we're still struggling with the fire. I was heading over there to see if I could help, when Neelix told on you." He rose, realising downtime was over.
"Little snitch," Kathryn mumbled, as Chakotay pulled her to her feet, and shuddered, remembering her dinner. Together they started walking back to the campsite, silence descending upon them. She felt so damned helpless, and she hated it. She'd never been a fan of camping, and Hanon IV had teeth to boot. They'd already lost Hogan. Losing anyone else was not an option. "We will make it through this, Chakotay. I promise you that." She looked at him as they walked, every word laced with iron, and the uncertainty she had displayed earlier was gone.
"I believe you," he answered.
She nodded to herself. They were going to get through this. If he believed it, so did she. The migraine she'd had since Cullah slapped her was still present, but her head had cleared and her focus was back. They had shelter, and they were relatively safe for now. With daylight, new opportunities would present themselves, and soon enough Tom would find them. Until then, they just had to survive. She looked at Chakotay as they entered the underpass, clinging to the slight levity they'd found out on the rocks. "Any chance you could make me a bathtub while we're here?"
His dimples flashed at her, eyes crinkling as they locked with hers. "I can't promise you that," he told her, "But given the chance, I will make you a tomato salad."
The End