Kiss Her, and Start the Day
by
Disclaimer: Paramount is God. I own none of these characters. Actually, there's only two mentioned, so that's all I don't own, but... I'm babbling, aren't I?
Summary: A short, introspective piece from Chakotay's point of view, regarding the most important woman in his life: Kathryn Janeway.
Rating: PG
I work beside her every day. I know her almost better than I know myself. So called 'command distance' doesn't prevent much from slipping through the cracks in our working relationship, provided by our friendship.
For almost seven years, I have watched her string along an endless cargo of men. Some of them she truly loves, others she does not even realize who she is while being courted. That happens more times than not, I'm afraid. And still others, are simply flings, to help ease the boredom or the sexual tension that I am sure resides within her, although I have seen no trace of it as of yet.
It hurts. Every time she falls for another man, I feel a piece of my heart rip. I want to scream. I want to rip him limb from limb, and take my place in Kathryn's arms. I want it to be me kissing her, holding her, making her laugh. I suppose I do make her laugh sometimes, anyway. But not that way.
I have protected her from phaser fire with my body. I have sacrificed more than I can say, so that she can live. I have let her into my heart without question, without demanding anything in return. In return, she has offered me the best friendship a man could ever have.
I have held her unconscious body in my arms on a planet covered in blizzard, waiting for Voyager or the Viidians to find us, praying it would not the be the latter. I have begged for her to hold on when it seemed she was finally injured beyond repair. I have even told her I loved her, though her mind was not awake to receive it. And what did I get in return?
So very much. So much more than I deserve. A strong, unbreakable bond with one of the most amazing women in the galaxy, or even beyond, if those 'Species 831' things are any indication. What I know is a special place in her heart.
But not the right place. I want to occupy that place where she has tried to make dozens of men fit, only succeeding with a few. I have a place like that in my heart, where I know she will fit, perfectly, like the right puzzle piece in an old 20th century jigsaw puzzle. I wish she would relax from her rigid stance and allow herself to slip in.
I want only the love which I know is already there. I ask for no more. I don't want false love, and I don't want pity. I want her to wake up and smell the coffee, and take her place at my side. And then, I want to lean over and kiss her, to start the day.