Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Trek universe, though I wish I did. It's a travesty, I know.

Author's Note: Written as a present for all of my wonderful J/C shippers, this is my Christmas present to the fandom. Merry Christmas, my friends!


She stands on the balcony and watches the snowflakes fall while the orchestra plays on in the ballroom she's fled from. It's been so long since she's had the chance to enjoy real, genuine weather; seven years of living in recycled air's left her with a deep appreciation of being cold. She thinks belatedly that she should've grabbed her shawl, though, as a gust of frozen wind tosses snowflakes her way. She's still staring out at the snow falling when she hears the ballroom doors open and she smiles, knowing who's there without having to look.

"I'll be in shortly," she says. "I'm just admiring the snow."

"You don't have to freeze while you do it," Chakotay says gently and she feels her shawl settle on her shoulders. Tugging on the edges of it to pull it into place, Kathryn smiles over her shoulder at the man behind her - behind and to the left, just as always. The smile slips away as she remembers that he won't be there after tonight, that he belongs to someone else now. Turning her attention back to the snow, she blinks furiously to keep her tears at bay.

"Thank you," she whispers.

"You're welcome," he replies, moving up to stand next to her at the railing. They both stand in silence for a long while, neither wanting to spoil the moment. Kathryn finds the silence comforting, like a familiar old sweater that fits just right. It's a comfortable silence born of years of adjusting to each other, years of getting to know things spoken without needing words. They forged an alliance in the first moments after he beamed aboard Voyager and a friendship in the years after that first meeting. In the years since the angry Maquis captain came to her bridge, Kathryn found a best friend and the only person in her life who hasn't fled in the face of her glaring shortcomings; she's not an easy person to be around, a fact she's well aware of.

She's going to miss this, she realizes. She's going to miss being around him every day, seeing him whenever she wants, knowing he's next door when she needs to talk. She's used to having him close, though she acknowledges that she never let him get too close - she didn't want to risk him getting so close that he'd know that her greatest weakness was him. She knew it'd only be a matter of time, though, before he grew tired of being held at arm's length but she'd selfishly thought her hold over him powerful enough to keep him by her side. If she'd known, if she'd acknowledged the truth before her eyes, she'd have seen the signs of his withdrawal long before the Admiral came onboard and told her about his relationship with Seven of Nine.

"You've accomplished your goal," Chakotay says softly and Kathryn nods.

"I got them home," she agrees and is startled by the large hand that settles on her shoulder. Looking over at him, she's struck by the intensity in his eyes.

"Then why do you look so sad?" he whispers. Kathryn swallows hard and tears her eyes away from his and turns back to the snowy landscape, shaking her head slightly. She's afraid that she'll cry if she speaks so she focuses her attention on the horizon and stands in silence. The tension grows as she waits for him to leave, to go back to his date, but the doors never open and she doesn't hear him leave. A quick glance to her left lets her see that he's still standing there with that same intense look in his eyes. He takes a breath but she cuts him off before he can speak.

"Don't, Chakotay. It's been a long day of handshaking and smiling and I don't have it in me to have this conversation."

"Too bad. We're talking now and I won't take no for an answer."

She rolls her eyes and sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose to stave off the headache forming. Looking up at him, she sets her jaw and crosses her arms, tilting her head.

"Well then, let's talk. Is this where you're going to tell me about Seven of Nine and ask me to do the ceremony in the morning?"

"No, this is where I tell you that I love you."

"Because if you're going to tell me to wear my dress uniform, I mi-"

She stops and stares at him in shock, her mouth hanging open unattractively. She's fairly certain that he just told her he loves her but-

"You're with Seven."

He shakes his head as he says, "I'm not with Seven and I never have been." His words are so nonchalant that Kathryn's overwhelmed by the ease with which he speaks. Licking her lips and finally getting her mouth shut, she stares at him in shock. It takes her a few tries but she finally finds her voice again.

"You're not?" she manages but she's horrified to hear the squeak in her voice. Chakotay just smiles and shakes his head. Kathryn exhales sharply, the relief she feels intense, but she won't give in yet . "But the Admiral said you married Seven."

"The Admiral lied to you, Kathryn. She had a specific agenda and she knew you wouldn't help her unless she manipulated you."

"She knew me well," Kathryn says, tugging her shawl tighter around her shoulders. Looking back out at the horizon, she lets the situation settle in her mind and then sighs. "I thought I'd pushed you away one too many times. I had my reasons for drawing the line between us and I thought they were right at the time but looking at them now, I see how wrong I was."

"You weren't wrong, Kathryn. I had a relationship with someone under my command and we both know how that worked out, don't we? I understood your reasons for not letting us have a personal relationship and while I would've liked to be able to have the sort of connection with you, I agreed with your stance. But now? Now we're home," he says and she takes a shaky breath when he uses a finger under her chin to turn her face back to his.

"I'm not your captain any more," she says. The smile she's treated to is breathtaking and she feels her knees weaken. Trembling fingers reach up to memorize his dimples, moving up to trace the lines of the tattoo she knows as well as if it was her own. His hand covers hers and they stare at each other, dropping all pretenses and masks to let emotions show. He smiles again and she returns it, a solitary tear sliding down her cheek as he leans down.

"I love you, Kathryn. Merry Christmas," he says softly, his thumb brushing her tear away. She beams at him and pushes up on her tiptoes to meet him halfway.

"I love you too," she whispers. Just before their lips touch, she chuckles. "This is the best Christmas ever."