Author's note:

Unlike most of the JC stories, I don't want to write yet another story about how Kathryn and Chakotay find their way to each other and how they come together (it is only mentioned as a memory). I don't want to write a story where after the first kiss / declaration / night spent together, my story ends. I rather think that with those remarkable events, a story not ends but begins! And with coming together, the rest is not a rosy dream where everything's going to be alright, but a new situation, needing to adapt to, with its own joys and sorrows, support and difficulties. Which is at least as intriguing to follow like its premise… That's why my plot takes place in an already committed relationship and well practiced intimacy between our command team, long after the 'dust of collision' settled. What I want to find out, how this situation changes their reaction to some canon (or non-canon) events … I want to see how their bond works.

This is the very first story (of any kind) I've ever written. More, English is not my native tongue so be kind! Comments are highly appreciated!

For those who favorited and are following my story: I apologise for the delay in updating it, but a serious writing block and real life intervened. Now here you are the next chapter.

Thanks:

To Shari, my one and only trekkie friend. Without her encouragement, I wouldn't have even begun to write down my thoughts about Voyager and her crew, for to publish it - more, in English! She did the beta reading, but I've fiddled it with since, so all mistakes are mine. Thank you my dear!

To KJaneway115 for the "Friends" beta and for her encouragement. Thank you!

To you all. I've been reading your stories for many years now, and apart from endless hours of fun, I've learnt a great deal English from you. Thank you. This is my present for you.

Disclaimer: the usual. Star Trek: Voyager and its characters are not mine, and I do this for fun, not for profit.

Simply

„I love you not for whom you are,
but who I am when I'm by your side.„ Gabriel García Márquez

Chakotay

I love her. But it's more than that: she is the meaning of my life. It may sound pathetic but that's the simple truth. It has never been an easy task; not with our complicated nature, and not with our precarious and somehow absurd existence here. Neither makes it our lives easier: true, our special bond mostly helps to overcome the difficulties we face together, but there are times when it complicates our situation… We face it and assume it the way it is – and it has truly given us the meaning of peace.

Of course we've known that it won't be easy – we are not so young and naïve as we used to be, and we both have our experiences and scarrings in our bags. Still, it has been given to us… this feeling of home. The road is bumpy and we are far from the ideal circumstances both of us would glady found a family in, but … we do the best we can.

I remember when she came to me … there were no momentous events, there was no nearly-loosing-the-other situation like so many,too many times before. There was no making-up after a heated argument, nor romantic ambiance after a relaxing dinner together, no fanfares and firework… she just came to me. Simply.

Her eyes were clear and bright; her look brave and honest. Their depths were full of everything she had for me. I'd seen this gaze only once before – a long time ago in a hidden paradise of the Delta Quadrant … this was Kathryn. Spirits! just the memory of it cuts deep in me… then, our fate made yet another somersault, and I've given up to see that look again. To see her. Really her. I And now, after all these years: here she is, in front of me, without any mask and pretense, looking expectantly up to me with the same telling, smoky blue eyes…

She just came over to my quarters that silent night, and when I let her in and our gazes locked, it was… it was… I'm not sure I can find a word in any language that could describe it. We couldn't either – no words were spoken. No romantic declarations, no great words or 'always and forever' vows… we already knew all that. We had for a long time. Time to come home. To each other. Simply.

I had fought against that, though. After New Earth … no, after seeing her unwavering resolve to keep things like they were before our exile, I did not want to love her any more. I did everything – consciously and unconciously – to tear her out of my heart, to move on; but I've had no power over the bond we shared, no matter what I tried. It has been always something beyond us, beyond our influence – but it took time to accept that. Oh how I hated it! how I hated her – it hurts to admit it, but that's the truth – I hated her for doing this to me, for making me feel helpless… Still, I loved her for the person I'd become beside her, I loved her for what she'd given to me and to my life. Meaning.

Then, there was a point when I gave up the fight. I think that was when she laid in my arms, dead, on that rocky planet … all the fights and complications, it didn't matter anymore. I just accepted my feelings for her. And I didn't want to – and wasn't able to – hide it any more… I have learned to live with the fact I love her, no matter what. Simply.

Of course I knew she loves me, too. I always have.

And she told me each and every day – not with words but in so many other ways: with an unguarded sparkling glance, with a brief, but unexpectedly tender touch of her palm on my chest, with a bright smile of Kathryn flashing out from behind the Captain's mask every now and then, with her misty, velvety voice reserved only for me… I don't think she has been aware of them – but she knew that I knew. And I don't think she's had the slightest idea of what those little gestures of hers do to me… Dammit, it was really hard sometimes to keep my composure, and not to launch forward to grab her and make love to her with everything I am... But in the end, I've always gathered enough strength to keep 'the parameters'. For her.

Oh, it is not so heroic to do so as it seems to be. In a way, those little jewels of everyday rather made it easier; they helped to keep my sanity and bear the weight of the certainity that while onboard Voyager, nothing can come out of us. Because in this way, there was still an 'us'. Simply.

But then, one night, she was standing in my quarters, still in uniform but without her jacket – like her visit came out of a sudden decision –, with a stare so open like she were standing completely naked in front of me. In a sense, she was. Her soul was. She knew I know her, she knew I would understand. And I did. This time, I did launched forward, nothing to hold me back anymore, claiming her soft, fine lips with mine, pressing her petite, pliant, warm, beautiful body to mine, drowning with each and every one of my senses in her scents, aromas, tastes, colors, flavors and fragrances.

She was delicious.

And she was deliciously unhibited – just like I always knew she would be. It was actually coming home, and rediscovering things you've believed to know, yet so new and intriguing they are in the new light. I had years to observe the way each of her muscles move; the subtle changes of her soft skin's teint in different places from the dense dusk of freckles to the translucent white, the way her thin nails glint in the light while her long, slender, delicate fingers go in their way of exploring, the way each silky hair caresses my palm while slipping through my fingers like a copper river... I've already known how that feels. I never forgot. Yes, I even recognised the sweet aroma of her arousal... I recognised with amazement the message I've got for... Spirits, for all the times I've known her. I was lost.

The realisation she would let me take her in my bed and in my life, let me love her at last and offer everything, everything to me, generously and by her free will, almost made me crazy. I wanted to treat her with reverence; reverence what I've always felt when I admired her mysterious female power over men, amazed by the elegant, almost royal grace of her glowing feminity in what she was so much more than any other beautiful women in this world… I wanted to offer her the freedom that night; the freedom to be a Woman. Simply.

But I lost control after a while … and I relished in being allowed to do so. After so many years of restraint, the primal in me got the better of my intentions; and in the end, the only thing I wanted, badly, was to make her mine, to mark her as my mate, forever. And I did. Simply.

Later that night, I found her sitting on my sofa, in her characteristic posture, gazing out to the stars. Can you think of your commanding officer, a respected Starfleet Captain that she is endearing when she is wearing your used tee of the day before, twice her size – and nothing else?

Although I know her enough to know when she makes up her mind to something, it is definitive, however… after so many years, this woman still can be an enigma. Her very (naked) presence in my quarters is a living proof of that. So I felt compelled to ask – after I settled behind her on the cushions and pulling her close – if she regretted it.

Kathryn turned to face me. "No! No, I don't." Then she smiled at me – yes, that little crooked one – and cupped my face. "I do have some regrets about us - but let me assure you, this was probably the wisest thing I've done in this godforsaken quadrant. I don't think either of us has to prove anything yet, neither after so many years together, nor after tonight… You know, I'm still tingling everywhere -" her smile widened to a mischievous grin. "It seems I should have come to you sooner, asking about 'mating behaviour'… now that's what I'm really regretful about!"

I laughed out loud, remembering that scene on the bridge ages ago. Only Kathryn could have the courage to flirt wih me this outrageously in front of the whole bridge crew! Spirits - she had no idea how damned close she'd came to drive me crazy with desire then…or maybe she had. Not that she would have needed any explanation in the matter, after what I experienced with her tonight… the woman knows what she's doing, no doubt about that.

After a light kiss on my lips, she turned and nestled back in my arms, looking out again to her beloved stars. Then, slowly but surely, words began to roll down of her lips like pearls; words so open and shameless that I hardly dared to breath, for fear of stopping them. She told me how she had suddenly come to decision; that it was like an unexpected revelation and … I don't know if she had ever been so honest with herself. I just listened to her. I let her bare her soul to me and free herself of years – dare I say, decades – of self-constraint. Then she tried to apologise, saying how egoistic and short-sighted it was for her to see only her goal and by sacrifying her happiness for the sake of the crew, she sacrified mine as well. She said that her incapacity to face her feelings and her fear, her self-punishment was the real reason for the many … troubles … we had between us. But at this point I stopped her because that's not how I've seen things – and her. She is anything but selfish: the most devoted leader I've ever known. Yes, she has always put the crews needs before her own, to the point of completely ignoring the latter, and she has sacrified already so many things for us. But I've been content for the opportunity of living my life beside her, the closeness she allows me – only me -, and her many subtle ways of letting me know how deeply she cares. It was more than anything I've got since...I don't even know. I meant it when I assured her, looking deeply in her eyes: "I wouldn't change anything in our history".

Then it was my turn to confess. We had a long, freeing, purifying talk that night – about 'me' and 'you', about us and them, about mistakes and regrets, about accusations and lies, about gratitude and respect, about trust and care, about duty and belonging, about loyalty and disappointment, about past, present, and future – and in the end, she just stared at me with tearful eyes. She said she doesn't deserve me, but when I started to protest, she silenced me with a long, loving kiss that made me reel… Then she made love to me, right then and there, on my sofa - slowly and thoroughly, with so much tenderness... and passion. Such a passion, what made me feel like floating - and I opened myself to her, like I never did to anyone in my life. Simply.

Oh how I'd need that simplicity right now…

Kathryn

I love him. But it's more than that - I'm his. Simply.

I could argue, I could cite regulation – which, true, does not forbid explicitly a relationship of romantic nature between superior officer and subordinate. I could refer to Starfleet protocol – which, indeed, discourages it -, but whatever I do or not do, say or not say, avoid or face, in the end, remains the simple truth: I belong to him.

It is momentous – in the same time, downright scary – to be part of such a force, beyond human comprehension. Nothing ever had such a power over me as this bond has – and nobody ever had such a power over me as he has. Frankly, it was quite an unsettling feeling for me – until I learned to trust him so fully as I do now. For Kathryn Janeway, you know, it's a slow process to trust somebody… maybe too slow. So much time we have wasted… I have wasted. Not only with him, but with the crew as well. In hindsight, I can see now that my earlier isolation was a wrong choice – here, in the Delta Quadrant, we need each other because we have only each other. Simply.

Everyone knows I am not a spiritual person. But if anything, my relationship with Chakotay has served as a good lesson to me: sometimes the essence of things are far beyond the measurable data. And as strange as it sounds: it is freeing. With him, I don't have to know all the answers anymore – I don't have to be perfect anymore. I can be just myself. Kathryn. Simply.

I'd always chosen the rocky road – our presence here in the Delta Quadrant is a sharp reminder of my bad habit. But he made me change my perspective; he taught me how to see things differently.

This is the life we all are destined to live on board of this vessel. We live each and every single day of our incredible lives with the possibility that this might be the last one we are spending together, or alive. We try to hold on a life as normal as it can be on a lonely starship lost in an unknown territory, but sometimes events weigh on us too much, turning us against each other. Paradoxally, those conflicts often come of our most inner fear of losing each other. We miss our loved ones who we left behind on the Alpha Quadrant – living or dead -, sometimes terribly, and sometimes we commit errors, we make wrong decisions and we hurt each other. But in the end, we are still there for each other. And that's the only certainty we can count on in this mess of a life we are living. It is, after all, so simple.

That was the point when I knew. I knew I can do it. Just like many other women could do it in history: have a whole life – with a job, mission, love, and family in it. Chakotay also taught me to find balance between Kathryn and the Captain, find peace with every part of my being and now I am as proud to be a woman, a mate, a mother, a friend, than to be a Captain. My life is whole: right here, right now, on Voyager, in the Delta Quadrant – the place I'm meant to be.

I remember when we decided - well, I decided - to give in to the connection Chakotay and I always shared. I'm in wonder at how simple it was, after all: suddenly, how clearly I could see us. We love each other. We've done so for a long time. We've had a strong and complex bond between us. It has been there from the very beginning, and even after enduring many storms, arguments and conflicts, it still survived. It has changed, though – flowed and ebbed, warmed and burned, supported and stumbled; twisted, matured, anchored, bulversed, scarred and healed, gave strenght and made vulnerable, has been changed in color and taste with time – but endured. Through so many ordeals, nothing could harm it, and we know deep inside, nothing will, ever.

Actually, we've been in a committed relationship already for a long while. Even without acknowledging it. We've already learnt to handle it during the years within the context of our professional relationship and command structure, as best as we could. And no matter if we admit it or not, act on it or not, it will be there anyway. Simply.

But we know well, by those years of experience, what can happen if we try to ignore the bond, in a futile attempt of get rid of it: anger, pain, cruel words, estrangement… no people could hurt each other so much and no people could make each other so unhappy like we did. And that's not what we need – not what the crew needs. Not a frustrated, conflicting command team. And not leaders of our community who slowly but surely drive each other crazy.

For years, I'd thought that I have to sacrifice my own happiness to serve my crew better as their Captain. That a romantic relationship would only complicate our – already enough complicated – situation here. What a stupid assumption it was... did I really think if I denied my feelings then they would just go away? Or if I pretended not to feel what I feel, then the apparence would convince everybody – especially him - of the opposite of what they all know better? Who was I kidding? And how many time had I left in living in a lie, actually? Before Kathryn would fade completely and would be lost forever for the Captain – taking the latter physically with her soon enough...?

But I paid my due for that and I learned my lesson. Those years' experiences made me understand the real truth: the crew needs my emotional equilibrium in order to survive as much as I do myself. They depend on me on every level. Simply.

That night, our first night in each others' arms, the fulfillment of our love was not our lovemaking. It was a step – however a significant one - to our full union which has been completed by the open words we offered to each other afterwards as a token of love and trust – a discussion brutally honest: the first real one since the day we met.

And on the coach in Chakotays quarters, our battered, weary souls finally found home. Without the pasts illusions, but rejoicing in the safe respite of our old, newfound intimacy.

And despite all the precariousness that is our life here, for the very first time I'm at peace with my destiny. I've never been aware of that: I had never recognised before that the Woman Warrior struggles with herself as much as her Angry Warrior did, and she needs to learn the true meaning of peace as much as he needed to do so. And although I have still a lot of difficulty forgiving myself when I don't fulfill any of my roles as I expect from myself, either as Captain, as friend, or as mate and mother, it helps when I see Chakotay doing so, when I see our crew doing so.

And that's what I'm needing right now… the forgiveness.