Author: Daya
Rating: PG-13 to R
feedback to: daya_pi226@hotmail.com
Spoiler: Thirty Days
Disclaimer: Voyager belongs to Paramount and TPTB...I'm just playing with them.
'Thomas Eugene Paris, I hereby reduce you to the rank of ensign,' Captain
Janeway uttered the words that caused Tom's stomach to plunge down to his boots.
The ache in his heart was only matched by the pain in Janeway's expression as she took
of one of the small pips on his collar, of the pips that he had tried so hard to be worthy of.
But it was obviously for nothing . . . Tom's feeling of pain vanished only to be replaced by hopelessness.
In the brig, Tom was looking at the irregular flashes of light being given off by the
faulty light panel in his cell. He had been staring at it for two hours. Before that,
he had counted the times that the guard shifted in his position at the brig console.
The guard - Ensign Greyes - had been calibrating the console monitor. Tom recognised
the procedure from the bleeps from the panel; he had done the same thing many times himself
on a slow day at the helm. The helm . . . his place. The place that he had been working at
for the past five years.
Outside the ship, unbeknownst to anyone (not even a certain perfectionist
pointy-eared security chief),
floated a being. It was pure thought, and at that moment, it thought that it might be
nice to play with these insignificant little bipeds on this flimsy little flying travel
iron . . .
Tom Paris threw himself against the force field, giving himself a huge zap with the energy
coursing through it. He threw himself at it again, and again rebounded off the lattice
of energy. He picked himself up and began to hurl himself at it again and again.
'Ensign Greyes to security.'
'Lieutenant-Commander Tuvok here. Report.'
There was no answer.
'Ensign Greyes, please respond.'
There was still no answer. Tuvok tapped his comm badge.
'Security to the brig.'
He turned to his console, erecting a level 3 force field around the area surrounding the brig.
Then he looked at Commander Chakotay, who said:
'Paris?'
'It appears so, Commander. Internal sensors show that his cell is unoccupied.'
'I don't think that Tom would do this normally. I was expecting him to stay in there
without protest for the duration of his sentence. You get down there and find Tom.
I'll speak to the Captain.'
Tuvok looked at him curiously.
'You will not accompany me to assess the situation?'
'No Tuvok, I don't think you need me there holding your hand. Take the Doctor down with you
to check him out.'
Tuvok was wondering what the phrase "holding your hand" meant, and concluded that he
was speaking metaphorically. He was still somewhat surprised that the Commander was not
coming with him, but he did not object, instead turning around smartly, and he walked
off the bridge on to the turbolift.
The creature frowned in its mind (which was considerable), and took stock. The test subjects
were coming along nicely; they were responding well to the endorphins it was releasing
into their bloodstreams. This would create interesting results. Increased desire,
for example. But there was one rather interesting one with pointed ears and green blood
that was not responding at all to the stimuli it was administering to him.
Chakotay waited until Tuvok was safely away on the turbolift, and then he went to his chair.
Standing next to it, he tapped in the command to locate Captain Janeway in to his terminal.
The green dot showed that she was in her quarters. Chakotay smiled to himself. That would
save time . . .
'Ensign Kim, you have the bridge.'
He stepped onto the next turbolift, and gave directions to Deck 3, officers quarters.
Tuvok had just arrived at the place where Tom Paris was supposed to be held by a
level 3 forcefield. It was empty.
He wasted no time. He initiated a Level 2 security alert, and called up an armed detail
to go after Paris where he was, in his quarters (courtesy of the ship's internal scanners).
He went into the brig, where the Doctor was already seeing to Ensign Greyes, who had been
struck at the base of his skull, and rendered unconscious. The Doctor looked up, and said:
'He'll be fine. Where's Ensign Paris?'
Even the Doctor, the last person to find out anything on the ship, was aware of Paris' demotion.
'He is in his quarters. I have sent a security detail to find him.'
'Good. Do you have any idea why he might have broken out?'
'I am afraid I am at a loss, Doctor. He appears to have forced his way through a fully charged
level 4 containment field here, and through a stronger, level 3 field close by.
To my knowledge, that should have knocked him out, as well as caused significant burns
to his skin. Yet it appears that Ensign Paris is well and almost certainly awake.'
The Doctor shrugged.
'He always did have the irritating habit of sleep-walking . . .'
Chakotay strode through the corridors of Voyager, nodding at passing crewmembers
as he made his way to the Captain's quarters. He stopped in front of them and pressed
the door chime. There was no answer. He pressed it again. Still no answer. He pressed it
again, and was about to use his security code to open it when it suddenly swished open.
Janeway - Kathryn - was standing there in her pink silk dressing down. The one, he remembered,
that covered her peach coloured nightg-
'Do come in, Commander.'
She went in ahead of him, and sat down on the couch. She motioned for him to sit down next to her.
The doors swished shut behind him, but he hardly noticed it. He was busy looking at her.
He could see the outline of her curves even through two layers of the silky fabric. Her hair was down,
and she was barefoot. She had obviously been preparing for bed. That didn't deter Chakotay, though.
He wanted to tear that dressing gown off her and-
She was looking at him curiously. Chakotay realized that he hadn't said a word to her in the whole...visit.
He cleared his throat.
'Uh, Captain, it appears that Tom Paris has broken out of his cell. Tuvok's handling it.'
'Good. I'll speak to him in the morning.'
'You're not going down there?' Chakotay was mildly surprised.
'No, why should I? Tuvok knows how to handle it. I have everything I *need* right here.'
She put her hand on Chakotay's, where it rested on the couch between them.
'So, Commander. Any other surprises?'
'N - nothing, Captain.'
'Really? That's a relief.'
She was drifting closer to him, and then he realized that he was getting closer to her as well.
'So, anything exciting happen to you, Captain?'
Mentally he kicked himself for choice of phrase.
'No, Chakotay. And please, Kathryn. We're off duty.'
'Yes, Kathryn.'
It was as if their minds were having a normal conversation, and their bodies were involved in
a completely different type of interaction that was almost instinctual. They were now
only centimetres apart, their faces very close together. He could feel her warm, sweet
breath blowing across his face, and he trembled at the feeling that washed through his body.
He made a quick decision, and closed the gap, lowering his mouth onto hers. Now he knew
that she was as affected by this as he was; he could feel her breathing grow ragged as
the kiss deepened, first tentative and shy, now becoming more passionate, as they gave
in to the need that raged through them.
Tom paced in his quarters. He was restless, and he knew that he didn't have long before
Tuvok came to find him. He decided that he wouldn't stay here, no he wouldn't make it
easy for him to find him. He would go to the holodeck. The idea seemed more and more
appealing. Yes. He went to the screen by the replicator, and said to it:
'Display all holodeck programs on file for Tom Paris.'
There was nothing there that he wanted to take part in, so he decided to go to that bar
where he'd been an American war soldier and Seven had been a Cabaret singer and the Captain
had been-
He suddenly realized that his thoughts were running away from the subject. He said to the replicator:
'Computer, one old American army uniform. Early 20th century.'
Then without waiting for the computer's response, he said:
'Lieutena- *Ensign* Paris to Lieutenant Torres.'
There was a pause, and then B'Elanna's voice came over the Comm channel.
'What is it, Tom? I thought you were being held in the brig.'
'Never mind that. Fancy some French wining and dining?'
If B'Elanna had been thinking clearly, she would have realized that Paris was out of
the brig without authorisation, and that she should really be concentrating on the warp
coils rather than thinking about going to the holodeck. Especially during her duty shift.
As it was . . .
'I assume you're talking about the Coeur de Lion?'
'Yep. The same.'
'And we get the best wine in the house?'
'Yep.'
'And we sit in the moonlight and make small talk?'
'Yep.'
'And we drink champagne with strawberries and get tight?'
'Yep.'
'And after that we make mad, passionate love?'
'*Whoa* yep!'
'Sure! When do I meet you there?'
'Uh, now would be a good time.'
'Okay. Just as long as I don't have to 'wear' that baby again.'
'No fear. No pregnancy in this holoprogram.'
'Great. See you there, then.'
B'Elanna signed off, and Tom turned back to the replicator. His army uniform was there.
It was very similar to the one that he had worn last time, but better.
This time, he was a full Commander. Tricky though, if he didn't want to be commanding
a full platoon of soldiers . . . He'd have to remember to alter the program to avoid that.
The creature looked at the people on Voyager. So far, it had kept to the senior staff,
leaving the rest of the crew alone. It was very pleased with itself. It had managed to worm
its way past the pointy-eared alien's mental defences. It could begin experimentation on him
as well now . . .
Kathryn tore her mouth away from Chakotay's. She looked at him wide-eyed, and could see in
his expression that he expected her to protest, or shout at him, or hit him, or do *something* to him for kissing her. Instead, she did nothing of the kind. She did the only thing that she could
think of at that moment. She kissed him right back.
The Doctor looked up from the medical console in sickbay.
'It appears that Ensign Paris emitted a field for the brief time that he was in contact with the
security screens. After both times he went through, the field disappeared, as if it were being
switched on and off like a light bulb.'
Tuvok looked at him curiously. 'You believe that there is intelligence at work here?'
'I can't give you a definite answer on that one, Mr Tuvok. All I know is that we have a
runaway convict on the loose on board. And by the way, where are your guards who were
supposed to be taking him into custody?'
'Yes, they are. I am not certain why they have not yet returned. I will go now and see
what the problem is.'
Tuvok turned and walked out of sickbay, a slight smile on his face.
The Doctor did a double take. Did he just see . . . No. He couldn't have. Could he?
Ensign Harry Kim walked into his quarters. As soon as the doors shut, a large form barrelled
into him, knocking him to the floor. It sat on him and held his mouth so that he could not cry out.
For a second he lay there, winded, and then he looked up. He nearly had a heart attack from the sight.
Tom sat at the table closest to the stage area. This time, though, it was different.
He knew he was Tom Paris, and not an army soldier and it was B'Elanna Torres, not Seven of Nine,
who was singing to the audience. Actually, he was the only audience there tonight.
He had deleted all the other characters except the pianist and Katrine. She was sitting at
another table with a glass of the wine she had refrained from giving to the Nazi/Hirogen officer
and looking at nothing, just listening to the music. Tom, however, was only listening to the music
with half an ear. The rest of his thoughts were turned to imagining what he would do when B'Elanna was finished.
He shifted so that the table covered his lap.
Chakotay drew back from Janeway and looked deep into her eyes. She gazed back into his - she loved losing
herself in their dark depths - and put up a hand to caress his cheek. He caught her hand
for a moment, and said to her:
'I want to be sure that this is what you want. Tell me that you don't think this is a mistake.'
'Oh, Chakotay.' She tightened her grip on his neck, where her other hand was positioned.
'I *do* want this. I… I have for so long.'
Chakotay smiled; he didn't need more than that. He stood up, pulling her up with him.
He brought her hand from his cheek and kissed her palm, all the time looking into her
intense grey eyes. She released his neck with her other hand, and trailed her fingers
over the outline of the off centre bridge of his nose, his well sculpted lips, the cleft
of his chin. She ran them into the little dimples in his cheeks that he had when he smiled,
and traced his tattoo with her fingertips. Chakotay in turn brought one of his hands round to her
face, and explored her features as well. She closed her eyes as he caressed her cheek, discovering
every nuance of her face with his fingertips. As he drew a very light, invisible line
down the centre of her face, she moved her hand down to his neck, and then around to his
back. He wasn't finished with her, though. He released her other hand, and used both of his
to remove the pins from her auburn hair (which she had grown long again, with a little help
from a growth inducer), and combed it out with his fingers, so that it fell loosely about
her shoulders. He drew back for a moment, surveying her, and then said in a very matter-of-fact tone:
'You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.'
Kathryn flushed, a rosy glow settling about her skin, softening her features.
'Thank you, Chakotay. It means so much to me that you're here.'
'To me too, Kathryn. I've waited so long for this.'
She opened her mouth to say something else, but he stepped forward, silencing her with another kiss.
Then he released her mouth, and she looked up at him with shining eyes.
'Well? What are you going to do now, Com- '
'Shhhh.'
He looked at her for another moment, and then reached down and tossed her over one shoulder,
so that her hair hung down his back, and he carried her into the bedroom. Her laughter was like
a silver bell, pealing delightedly across the room as her threw her across the bed.
The doors hissed shut.
The Doctor glanced at the monitor containing the results of the scans of Ensign Greyes.
He started to move to another workstation, but did a double- take, and looked at the
data more closely.
'This is strange.'
He was reading elevated hormonal readings, even though he was unconscious. They should
be steady. Something was obviously interfering with his hormone balance system. What
if this affected the rest of the crew?
Tuvok strode through the corridors of Voyager, searching for the lost security detail.
The computer had given their location as being the aft torpedo compartment. He finally
reached the torpedo bay- it was growing uncomfortably chilly, for some reason.
The doors opened, and suddenly classic waltz music could be heard by anyone who was
within three decks of that particular room. The torpedo bay had wonderful acoustics.
Tuvok stepped inside, carefully allowing the doors to shut behind him. The sight that
greeted him was substantially different from the norm. The security detail had paired
up, and they were cheerfully dancing around the bay. Tuvok regarded them thoughtfully
and then left them to it. He practically ran down the corridor, got into the turbolift,
and halted it in between decks. Then he looked at the PADD he was holding, and he placed
it carefully down onto the bottom of the turbo. A few minutes later, on four decks
either way, an excruciatingly Vulcan rendition of Verdi's Rigoletto could be heard.
Harry Kim fortunately did not actually have a heart attack, but came very close.
He looked up, and very close to his face was that of Seven of Nine. Her hand was
still clamped over his mouth, and at his signal that he was not going to shout
(anytime soon, at any rate), she released him. She stood up, and he followed a second later.
Then he gasped. She was wearing a totally different outfit to the one she usually wore.
Tonight she had donned a unitard, true, but it had . . . rather large parts cut out of it.
It was slashed very low down the back, and down one leg, and low cut at the front.
It was black, with deep red stripes that accentuated her stunning figure. Her eyes
were deep blue, and her hair had long black tiger stripes in it. She looked deep into
his eyes, stepped up next to him, and kissed him. Deeply. Expertly. She drew back,
and Harry found that he was breathless. 'Of course I am,' he thought.
'She's breathtaking.'
'Hello Seven.' Yep. The perfect icebreaker.
Seven echoed the words that he had dreamt in so many of his fantasies.
'Resistance is futile.'
And she kissed him again.
The song finished. Tom stood up and applauded, and B'Elanna blushed a rosy pink, unusual for her.
She stepped down from the small platform, and rushed into his arms. Tom gave her a hug
and led her to his table. There was a bottle of red wine there, matching the romantic
mood. She was wearing her slinky black dress that accentuated her figure so well.
Tom took the bottle and showed it to her.
'House best ...'
'Good.'
He poured the wine, and she took the glass. Then he poured for himself, and they sipped
the alcohol gingerly. A smile spread across B'Elanna's face.
'Lovely.'
'I'm glad you approve.'
He tilted his head, and said in a louder voice:
'Computer, change holodeck settings to Paris Omega 4.'
The space around them shimmered, and then coalesced into an outside setting:
Risa, midsummer night. Warm weather. Perfect romantic setting. Also perfect to pull
off something that he had wanted to do for a long time, but had never had the chance.
Or the opportunity.
The creature observed the little life forms. It was time to broaden its horizons.
Suddenly, the entire bridge crew jumped up as if possessed, and began to dance the Hornpipe.
The music, of course, completely clashed with that blaring in the cargo bay ...
In astrometrics, the alpha shift started to play Data's life form song on their consoles. In unison.
In the waste extraction system, all was quiet.
Harry broke away from Seven, and looked at her. Her eyes were flaming, and she looked at him hungrily.
He backed away from her a couple of steps, and held her shoulders so that she could not move after him.
He said:
'Se - Seven. This … is a little too fast for me. We shouldn't be rushing into this
until we're sure that this is what we want.'
'This is what I want, Harry. And by the look of it, so do you.'
He actually smiled at that.
'Am I that obvious?'
'Only to me. And perhaps Commander Tuvok.'
Harry's face fell.
'He's the last person I'd like to think about right now.'
'You mean that you've decided accept my offer?'
'Seven, I still think we need to take this slow. You're not experienced in these things,
and I don't want to drag you into anything you're not ready for.'
Even under alien influence, Harry Kim was an officer and a gentleman. His nature would
not allow him to take advantage of Seven.
'How do you suggest we proceed, Harry Kim?'
He let go of her shoulders, and she immediately moved closer to him.
'Well, what's the status of Holodeck 1?'
The computer's perfectly toned voice sounded in the room.
'Holodeck 1 is currently occupied by Ensign Paris and Lieutenant Torres.'
'How about Holodeck 2?'
'Holodeck 2 is currently unoccupied.'
Harry smiled. He said to Seven:
'How about a date?'
'A "date"?'
'It's a human custom. The first date is usually where one starts off the relationship.'
Seven thought for a moment.
'Yes. Let us go on a "date". From my research, I believe that
a date is usually to get to know each other, while drinking an alcoholic beverage
called "wine", and set in romantic surroundings. Then the couple - '
Harry stopped her.
'Yes, Seven. That's usually what happens. But each experience is different,
as you will see. Now, what would you like to do in the holodeck?'
'I do not know. What is your preference?'
'Well, I think maybe you'd enjoy dancing ...'
'Dancing? I have never danced before, Harry.'
'Would you like me to teach you?'
Seven tilted her head to one side, like an inquisitive sparrow, considering his offer.
'Acceptable. Teach me how to dance, Harry.'
Harry smiled and turned to the replicator.
'One formal suit, my size, for dancing.'
The computer did not bleep obediently, instead saying monotonously:
'Specify: what form of dancing?'
'All forms.'
The computer bleeped, and a formal black suit and white shirt materialised in the replicator.
He turned to Seven.
'What size are you?'
'I will program the replicator myself. I have sufficient data to find suitable attire.'
Harry went into his bathroom, and began to get changed.
While he changed, Seven gave instructions to the computer to replicate a dress for her …
An hour later, Tom and B'Elanna had finished their meal. They lay on the soft grass looking up at the night sky, which was hung with glittering stars, so that the effect was completely three dimensional. They could almost lose themselves between the bright points of light. Tom was lying with his arms around B'Elanna, and they were seeing what shapes they could make out of the stars. Tom had read somewhere that what they saw in the sky or a painting was a reflection of the soul. Right now, all the shapes that they saw were of love. There were one or two that Tom did not actually mention to B'Elanna, figuring that he would do best to keep his mouth shut about that particular imagery. Now, however, seemed the perfect time to do something that he had been planning for a while ... But had never had the chance. First, though, he wanted to stay there for a while just to be with B'Elanna.
The Doctor was working furiously at one of the consoles in sickbay. He was putting together a block, in the form of a neuro peptides, that would provide an effective barrier against the intelligence at work on the crew. He had found that there was a specific energy signature being transmitted from the crew, and had realized that it was definitely an alien being, that had somehow managed to make a connection to each of their brains. After several hours, he managed to work up a satisfactory formula against the transmission, that would create an increase in the neural bonds in the brain. This would build up the natural defence of the brain, blocking out the transfer of information from the alien. Now the tricky part was to administer it to the whole crew . . .
The Cargobay was deserted. Everyone had cleared out in favour of moving to the mess hall. There they put the music back on, except this was old fashioned, late twentieth century rock music. Soon everyone was dancing in the room, having unscrewed all the tables from the floor and put the aside to make more room. Neelix was tied up and gagged near the cupboards, in order to prevent him from singing the Song Of A Thousand Days.
Tom extricated himself from B'Elanna's embrace. When she protested, he said:
'Wouldn't you rather go for a swim? The water's great. I know, I programmed it myself.' 'Who could resist an offer like that?'
'No one ...'
B'Elanna laughed, and said,
'Well, it's good to know your smart - ass attitude hasn't changed. Where do we get swimsuits from?' 'There's a place just over there. But I was hoping we wouldn't need swimsuits ...'
'Pig ...' she said lovingly. She wouldn't change his attitude for anything. Even if it meant a more polite Tom Paris. They went to get swimsuits anyway, and for a while they swam around in the cool water. They played like children, splashing each other with the water that was stained dark violet with the dying light of dusk. After a while, Tom got out of the water, and headed for the bar near the grassy hill where the towels were. She looked after him, frowning. Her face cleared as she saw him reach for the bottle of Tamarian flower wine. He brought it and two glasses, and walked towards B'Elanna, who was already pulling herself out of the water to meet him. She sat on the warm, flat stone that had made such a perfect diving board, and patted the ground next to her, signing for him to sit there. He put the glasses and the bottle down, and went back for the rest of their things. He sat, and placed the bag down behind them. They dangled their feet into the now inky water, and lay back on the blanket. Tom put his hands behind his head, and sighed. Then he remembered that thing ... He sat up, and B'Elanna looked at him curiously. 'What is it?'
'Nothing. Do you know how beautiful you look against the night sky?'
Best to get her in the mood, he thought.
'Why, thank you, Ensign. If I didn't know better, I would have thought you were propositioning me.' 'How do you know I'm not?'
She did not have an answer to that one.
He leaned forward, and kissed her deeply. She responded immediately, leaning back on her elbows for support. His hands stroked her neck and her back, and then ... He tickled her. B'Elanna was so surprised, she nearly choked, but then she warmed to it, and tickled him back. Soon they collapsed in a heap on the blanket, exhausted, while they tried to catch their breath. B'Elanna looked at Tom, and said, 'Tom, you always manage to surprise me.'
'I do my best, ma'am.'
B'Elanna tangled her fingers in his hair, and said softly,
'Don't ever change ...'
Tom smiled, and took her hand down from his hair. His smile grew mischievous as he thought of something. 'What?' B'Elanna had seen the change in countenance, and was immediately suspicious. 'What is it?' 'Well ... Nah. You wouldn't be interested.'
'Interested in what?'
'Oh, nothing.'
'What is it, *Ensign*?'
'I'll only tell you if you agree to it ...'
'What? Do you think I'm that crazy?'
'Well, then. I guess you'll never know.'
'Fine.'
She was silent for a few minutes, as Tom lay back onto the blanket, looking nonchalantly up at the stars. 'Okay, Tom. You got me. I agree to whatever it is you have planned.'
'Great. You won't be sorry.'
'I hope not ...' B'Elanna muttered under her breath.
Tom was rummaging around in the bag, and he took out something black and roughly cylindrical. 'Now, close your eyes.'
'What? No way.'
'Okay, then.' He started to put the black thing back into the bag.
'Fine, fine.' She shut her eyes, albeit with a heavy sigh.
'Good. Now just relax,' said Tom, in the kind of tone that doctors use when they say 'This won't hurt a bit'. B'Elanna relaxed as much as she could. Then she yelped, and her eyes flew open. There was some kind of dark liquid running down her neck. 'What are you DOING?'
'Hey, hey, *relax*, B'Elanna.'
'But, you just ... you just … poured CHOCOLATE SAUCE over me!'
'Yeah, B'Elanna. What's the problem?'
'WHY?!!'
'Just wait ...'
'Wait for what? For it to congeal?'
'No. For this.' He leaned forward and started to lick the stuff off her neck, using little open mouthed kisses to suck it gently off. B'Elanna watched him in surprise, but then he hit a particularly sensitive spot, and she moaned. He moved his face away, so that he could see her face. Her eyes were shut, and she had an expression of utter bliss. He whispered,
'Did you like that?'
'Mmm, yes.' She opened her eyes, and looked directly into his eyes. 'You have such a talent.' 'Thank you, ma'am. With your permission ...'
'Oh yes, of course. Do continue.'
So he did.
Lieutenant Commander Tuvok strode into the messhall, his imperturbable air covering him like a shroud. He glanced around the room. In the impeccable tidiness of the room he could clearly see Neelix still bound and gagged near his cupboards. Other than he, there was no - one else in the room. There was only Tuvok, Neelix, and all the tables stacked up on top of each other to form a perfect three dimensional octagon in the centre of the room. It was a piece of work that even a Vulcan would be satisfied with. Tuvok immediately freed Neelix, who brushed himself down quickly. 'Mr Neelix ...'
'Yes, Mr Vulcan?'
'Do you have any of that leola root left over?'
Neelix was rather surprised; *no one* actually had the suicidal tendency to *ask* for extra leola root. He went over to the leftover cupboard, and took out a plate of white slimy stuff. 'This is from yesterday's leola root stew.'
'Thank you, Mr Neelix.' He took down the table on top of the octagon, and placed it on the floor. He took two chairs down from the same place, and put them around the table. He pointed to one of the chairs. 'Would you care to join me?'
Neelix was astounded - Tuvok never invited anyone to sit with him - but took a seat. Tuvok picked up his fork, and took a bite of the leola root. In between mouthfuls, he said: 'This is truly excellent, Mr Neelix. I congratulate you on your fine cooking.'
Neelix gaped at him open mouthed.
'Why ... Uh ... Thank you, uhm, Mr Tuvok ...'
Tuvok just kept on shovelling down the leola root stew. When he had finished the entire plateful, he sat back in his chair, and gave a big, happy smile. Neelix's jaw was at about, oh, floor level.
'Thank you, Mr Neelix.'
'Uh, well, eh, you're welcome ...'
Tuvok abruptly stood up, and stretched.
'Have I introduced you to Vulcan opera yet, Mr Neelix?'
A few moments later, everything made of glass within twenty metres of the messhall shattered.
Harry waited in the holodeck for Seven to come in. She had insisted that he wait there because she wanted to surprise him. Harry was surprised enough just knowing that she wanted to surprise him. That was quite an un- Borglike custom ... The holodeck doors swished open, and Seven entered. Seven entered ...
Harry gazed at her, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of her in a dark, long dress. It flowed all the way down to her ankles, and clung to her upper body, accentuating her curves almost as well as her body suit did. Below her waistline, the dress flowed outwards, so that it was not too streamlined. Harry recovered his faculties admirably quickly, considering the situation. He offered her his arm, and led her out on to the dance floor. They were in a restaurant, which had a dance floor in the middle of the room, but there was no one there. There were a few candles in the otherwise dark room, and a little muted lighting near the bar. In spite of the lack of light, though, Seven did not protest that the 'lighting is insufficient', instead walking over to the floor with Harry. Harry stood in the middle of the floor, and took her hand. 'Okay, Seven, what kind of dance would you like to learn now?'
'I have no experience with dancing, Harry. Teach me what you would like to do.'
'Well, I thought maybe we could start with the … uh … Tango?'
'Acceptable.'
Harry started up the music with a quick command to the computer, and soon they were dancing across the floor. 'You see, Seven, you're a natural.'
She looked at him, puzzled.
'A "natural"?'
'It means that it comes naturally to you. You are very good at it.'
'Oh. Thank you, Harry,' said Seven, in a very small voice for her.
Harry looked at her, and then changed the subject.
'Would you like to try slow dancing?'
'Alright ...'
'Computer, change musical settings to ...'
And he gave the specs for his favourite slow dance. He changed his position so that his hands rested on Seven's hips, and showed her to put hers on his shoulders. He started to move to the slow beat of the music, and Seven soon learned to adjust to the rhythm. She became comfortable enough to move closer to Harry, and she laid her head on his shoulder (she was actually only a little taller than Harry now; she was wearing much smaller heels than usual). He held her closer, and could feel the warmth of her body. She looked at him, gazing into his dark eyes, and he smiled at her. 'Are you enjoying this, Seven?'
'Yes ...'
And she kissed him. He was startled for a moment, and then started to respond. After a few moments, he drew back, and said to her: 'Is this really what you want?'
Seven was busy looking at him, her eyes roving over his features, drinking in his face, his body. 'Yes, Harry. I want to be close to you.'
This was enough for him. He kissed her again, and then they went back to dancing to the slow music that permeated the room like warm mist.
The alien looked on. Its experiments were drawing to a close, but it was still collecting data. Best to carry on, but it was not long before it was going to push off. They were a little too primitive for it ...
Now anyone on Deck 5 ran every which way, trying to get away from the noise that was rapidly coming closer. Tuvok and Neelix came round the corner, singing a mixture of 'We're Off To See The Wizard' and 'The Song Of A Thousand Days'. This ensured that they would continue to entertain the crew for a long time with their singing. They entered sickbay, intending to serenade him during his research, and then incorporate him into their little band. They walked into the Doctor's office, singing 'Is The Doctor In,' but he immediately whipped round his desk, and pressed two hyposprays in their necks. Neelix shook his head, and passed out. Tuvok blinked twice, and then said: 'Doctor ... I believe I was under the alien influence ...'
'Yes, Mr Tuvok. You do a very nice soprano. Would you care to join me in the opera program on the holodeck?' Tuvok passed out.
Some time later, B'Elanna stood up from where she was sitting on the blanket. She pulled Tom up with her, who looked at her curiously, and said: 'Where are we going?'
'"We" are going for a swim.'
'Haven't we been for a swim already?'
'So?'
'Well ... okay.'
They made their way down to the inky water, and dived in. B'Elanna went first, disappearing below the dark water. Tom followed soon after, and they swam for a while in silence, enjoying the cool water enveloping them in the navy blue of the night. Then suddenly, B'Elanna disappeared under the water, and Tom stopped swimming. He tread water for a minute, then realized he could reach the bottom, and stood up. B'Elanna was nowhere to be seen. He scanned the dark water, searching for any sign of her. Nothing. Then Tom unexpectedly took a ducking, when his legs were pulled out from under him. He came up gasping, and looked directly into the grinning face of B'Elanna. 'How ... (ppppth) did (khhh) you stay under for so (cough) long?'
'You're forgetting about my redundant Klingon lung. I can stay underwater for minutes at a time.' 'Wonderful. Now, shall we - '
'Doctor to Ensign Paris and Lieutenant Torres. Please report to sickbay.'
'Great. Well, we'd better do what he says. You know it's extra hypos if we don't do what he says,' said Tom. They put their clothes back on, and went down to sickbay, remembering for once to shut down the program after they left.
When they arrived in sickbay, they found that there were already half a dozen crew members there. They were mostly lying on the bio beds unconscious, the result of the Doctor asking each one of them if they wanted to be in his opera. Tom and B'Elanna moved towards the Doctor, who turned to them, and raised an eyebrow. They noticed that some other crew members were looking at them strangely, and stared at the Doctor, a question in their eyes. He was examining their clothing. 'Perhaps you would like to change your clothes around, Lieutenant, Ensign?'
'What are you talking about, Doctor?' asked B'Elanna suspiciously.
'Well, you appear to have each other's clothing on ...'
They looked at themselves, and then each other.
'I don't see the problem, Doctor.'
The Doctor took out a hypospray, and pressed it to both their necks in turn.
'There. Now, look at yourselves.'
B'Elanna took one look at Tom and collapsed on the floor, rolling around with laughter. Tom looked back at her, puzzled, wondering why on earth she was wearing his favourite shirt. Then he caught sight of himself reflected on the console, and fainted dead away. B'Elanna, having recovered from her merriment, said:
'Who would have know that he looked so good in a dress?'
The Doctor frowned.
'Hmm. Well, I'm sure that you'll be pleased to know that almost the entire crew are cured from the neural links that I'm almost certain were caused by an alien.' 'You mean ... We were under alien influence?'
'Yes. I will brief you and the Captain later.'
'Alright. Who hasn't been cured yet?'
'Two crew members.'
'And those are ...?'
'The Captain and Chakotay.'
'How come?'
'They have not answered my calls. I think they will come in eventually though.'
What the Doctor did not say was that he did not really want to disturb them, as the internal scanners had shown that they were together. He was sure they would come to sickbay when they were good and ready. He had left a message on their personal screens. 'Fine. I'd better be getting back to Engineering. But before that ... Could you do something for me, Doctor?' 'What?'
'Lend me your holocam.'
'Are you sure Paris won't mind?'
'Are you crazy? Of course he'll mind!'
'Then, I shouldn't really lend it to you, should I?'
'Well, think of it this way, Doc. You'll have a new picture to show on your next lecture to the crew.' 'Here it is.'
The alien was no longer in contact with the tiny life forms on that metal shell that they called Voyager. Only two remained under its influence.
Kathryn shifted under the dark blue covers of her bed. She could smell the sweet herb and grass fragrance that seemed to be part of Chakotay. She let it permeate her entire being, breathing it in and letting it relax her. She clasped Chakotay's hands with her own where they lay, gently encircling her waist, resting on her bare stomach. He leaned forward, his chest pressing against her small shoulders, and whispered to her. 'Kathryn . . . '
His voice was low and sensual, sending small shivers through her body. She could feel the heat of his breath on her ear, and she closed her eyes. His presence was almost intoxicating ... 'Did you sleep, Kathryn?'
She gathered her scattered senses and worked up the composure to say, albeit in a rather shaky voice, ' . . . Yes. Chakotay . . . did . . . ' she trembled slightly, all her senses feeling his presence acutely. He smiled, and he answered the question she had started, but not had the control to finish. 'I didn't. I was watching you sleep. You're beautiful, Kathryn. I could watch you sleep forever.' She was captured by his words and his tone, and she turned around, still safely within his embrace. 'Oh, Chakotay . . . I love you . . .'
He stared at her with an intense gaze.
'You have no idea how long I've waited for you to say that, Kathryn.'
She gazed back at him, and did not ask the question that she dared not ask, the question that they both knew was going through her mind. 'And you know I love you too.'
He caught her hand with his lips.
'Forever.'
She looked deep into his eyes, and then held him close. They stayed that way for a time. Then without the urgency of the past hours, they made love, discovering each other from the inside out, each looking deep into the other's soul. They both cried out at the end when the wave of resurrection crashed over them, washing away the shadows that had accumulated in their spirits over the years. At that moment, the alien released its hold.
At the same time, Harry and Seven were lying on the bio beds in sickbay. The Doctor had beamed them in just before Tom and B'Elanna came into sickbay. Harry had been holding Seven's hips, and she had her arms around his neck, obviously in the middle of a dance. The Doctor pushed down a twinge of jealousy, and had administered the antidote to them both. Now they were beginning to wake up, both blinking confusedly. They sat up on their beds, and looked around the room. Harry caught sight of the unconscious Paris lying in a *dress* on one of the other beds, and his mouth hung open in shock. Honestly, he looked just like Sleeping Beauty lying there ... Well, maybe not *just* like that, but close enough. He turned his head, and saw Seven looking at him. He remembered the past few hours, and felt a warm flush of contentment wash over him. He smiled at her, and she smiled back, cautiously. The Doctor came over, and said: 'So, how are you feeling? Finished your little stint on the holodeck?'
'Uh, yes thank you, Doctor. Why are we here?'
'You were under alien influence. I beamed you here to administer the antidote.'
'I didn't know that there was an antidote for alien tampering. I would have thought that it would have to be technological.' 'Normally it would. But there were no engineering staff left sane enough to work out a solution. I solved it by creating a formula which increased the natural resistance of the neurons in the brain.' 'Interesting. Can I go back to duty now?'
'You may. Just be careful, and tell the Captain or Chakotay to come to sickbay if you see them.' 'Okay, Doc. Is Seven released as well?'
The Doctor heaved a sigh.
'Yes, she is released as well.'
'Thanks, Doc.'
He turned, and made his way to the bio bed where Seven sat. She had heard what the Doctor had said about the alien influence, and was now deep in thought. Harry's expression grew sombre as he realized that Seven was probably having doubts about their relationship. 'Hello, Seven. How are you feeling?'
'I am feeling the after effects of the alcohol that I consumed in the holodeck.'
'Yes. I replicated that myself. It was real.'
'But otherwise I am functioning normally.' she looked at him, her expression troubled. 'The Doctor stated that we were under alien influence?' 'Yes, Seven.'
Her frown became a little more pronounced.
'Then we were not acting under our own judgement?'
'I don't know. Maybe we weren't. Maybe we were.'
He saw her face, and quickly said, before the moment became uncomfortable, 'Seven, I understand if you don't want to continue this relationship. After all, if we were under alien influence, maybe you didn't really want this.' She looked back at him, and considered her next words.
'Perhaps you are right.'
His hopes fell, and he felt the disappointment bitter in his mouth.
'What would you like to do, Seven?'
'I do not know. It is ... unsettling.'
'Well, you don't have to make a decision just yet. What are you going to do now?'
'May I make one request?'
'Of course, Seven. What is it?'
'Would you dance with me some more?'
Tom woke up on the bio bed. He was now dressed in proper uniform (thanks to the kind intervention of the Doctor). He could see Harry in a deep conversation with Seven, and the Doctor lurking in a corner with a tricorder. 'Hey, Doc!'
The Doctor looked up, and saw Tom sitting up.
'Ah. Up from your little nap?'
'Did I imagine it, or did I have B'Elanna's kinky dress on a minute ago?'
'Excuse me?'
'Well, I thought that I had a dress on, and B'Elanna had my clothes on, and you were there, and we were in sickbay ...' 'What on earth are you talking about, Mr Paris?'
'Then it didn't really happen. Thank God. I could just imagine B'Elanna standing there above me with a holocam.' 'Would you care to come to my next talk, Mr Paris? I can guarantee that it won't be as long as the one before. In fact, it need only be a few minutes long.' 'Sure, Doc. What's it about?'
'Fashion.'
'Okay. When is it?'
'I haven't scheduled a time. It would be helpful if I could show you the talk first, and then you would help me schedule a time ...' 'Sure thing, Doc. Where?'
'Right this way, Ensign.'
Tom's face fell.
'I was kinda hoping that was a dream, too. Okay, Doc. What are you going to show me?' 'Look.'
Seconds later, a huge scream could be heard from sickbay, two decks in either direction. Then there was a rather large thump.
B'Elanna was working in engineering, but she still managed to hear Tom's yelling. She smiled to herself, but felt a little guilty. That would not stop her from paging them to every console on the ship, but she started to think up ideas to reward Tom afterwards, to make up for the humiliation. Thankfully, he didn't have any Klingon blood in him. If he had been, he would have wrecked sickbay *and* the rest of deck 5 as well, B'Elanna would have had to do the patch up work on all the equipment, and the Doctor would have had to do the patch up work on all the people.
Tuvok sat in his quarters meditating. At least, he was trying to meditate. He was actually thinking about Neelix. The little alien had been badgering him, trying to make him smile again. What Tuvok could not make him understand was that he had only smiled because he had been under alien influence. Neelix had simply kept on insisting that the capacity to smile was still in Tuvok, and as a result, kept giving him that revolting leola root stew leftover. Tuvok had dutifully eaten it, as it was not proper for him to complain. After all, it was nourishment, and what did it matter how it tasted. But Tuvok was still a little ... inconvenienced by Neelix's efforts.
A few hours later, the Doctor had had enough of waiting for the Captain and the Commander. *To hell with it,* he thought.
'Sickbay to Commander Chakotay.'
A few seconds later, the exhausted voice of Chakotay came over the comm.
'Chakotay here. What is it, Doctor?'
The Doctor could have sworn he heard another, feminine, throaty voice murmuring close by ... The Doctor decided not to think too deeply into that one. Not missing a beat, he said: 'Commander, I would like you to come down to sickbay for a check-up. The crew has been under alien influence, and perhaps you are too, without knowing it.' 'Alright, Doctor, I'll be right down.'
'And Commander ...'
'Yes?'
'If you see Captain Janeway, would you tell her to come down to sickbay as well?'
Chakotay looked at Kathryn, whose face was just inches from his. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. 'I'll be down shortly, Doctor.'
The Doctor signed off, and Chakotay drew Kathryn into his arms. He kissed her gently, and said: 'Time to go.'
Kathryn sighed. She just wanted to lie there in his arms for a few more hours. However, it was her duty to - That thought was cut off when Chakotay sat up in bed. She did the same, wrapping the dark sheets around her body. He looked at her in amusement. 'Do you really need to do that? It's not like I haven't ...'
He trailed off, and she smiled mischievously.
'You'd like that, wouldn't you?'
'Yes. I would,' he said seriously.
Kathryn's smile grew soft as she heard the affection in his voice. She knew that it would always be there, and she loved him for it. Time to return to the here and now, though. She got up from the bed, and padded towards the bathroom. Chakotay could hear the hiss of the shower (not sonic; Kathryn preferred water). He grinned evilly, and went after her.
Half an hour later, both officers entered sickbay looking professional and utterly composed. The Doctor looked up from his holocam, and frowned. 'What took you so long?'
Chakotay looked uncomfortable.
'Ah ... I had to find the Captain first.'
'I was ... busy,' agreed Kathryn. The Doctor's face cleared, *slightly*. He thought that it would be better that they did not know that he knew that they had been together. He had *some* discretion, after all. He took out a medical tricorder, and started scanning them. He did a double take, and looked at the readings. 'Curious ...'
Janeway's Captain's training kicked in. She went up to the Doctor.
'What is it, Doctor?' she said, trying to ignore the intensity of Chakotay's gaze.
'During the past day, the entire crew has been under the influence of an alien. I have successfully blocked the alien contact from each one, and was about to do the same to you,' and he looked at both of them. 'But it appears that you are not under influence.' Janeway and Chakotay shared a glance.
'Have we been under influence at all?' asked Chakotay.
'The readings clearly show that your minds have been tampered with, but the contact abruptly stopped approximately four hours ago.' 'So there is nothing wrong with us now, but there was a few hours ago?'
Chakotay could see the Captain's expression stiffen, and she no longer looked in his direction. He felt disappointment, even fear that she might reject what had happened, and leave him all alone again. 'Yes, that is correct, Captain.'
'Thank you, Doctor. I will expect a full report tomorrow.'
'Aye Captain.'
She was about to leave sickbay when the Doctor said:
'Oh, and Captain ...'
'Yes, Doctor?'
'Just in case there are any side effects, I would like you to take the day off. You too, Commander.' 'But Doctor, I am perfectly fit for duty - ' Janeway protested.
'I will make that determination. Now, back to your quarters. You need rest.'
Chakotay was unsure if the Doctor truly thought that they needed it, or whether he was more perceptive than he let on. He thought that perhaps the Doctor knew what was happening between them, and was giving them a chance to sort themselves out. Oh well. Whichever it was ... He and the Captain - Kathryn - left sickbay, heading for their quarters.
Tom and B'Elanna were arguing in Engineering. Tom was relatively lively, having passed out twice in sickbay, and B'Elanna expected the paint on the bulkheads to start peeling off at any moment. She dragged him off to the Engineering head, where she locked the door. 'Tom. I'm sorry, okay, I'm sorry.'
He stopped his tirade, and looked at her.
'I was stupid, I shouldn't have done it …'
Inside, though, B'Elanna thought it was actually quite funny. She had, in fact, paged the photo to every console on Voyager. She *could* see Tom's point of view ... But it was still funny. 'Okay, B'Elanna. I forgive you.'
Tom leaned closer to her, and whispered:
'But you're going to have to make it up to me.'
'That sounds like a challenge ... I like challenges,' B'Elanna growled to him. Then she pulled away from him and returned to her console in Main Engineering, and carried on with the deflector shield modifications. Tom emerged from the head about five minutes later, with a look of great concentration.
Seven and Harry were in the holodeck once more. Harry was holding her in his arms, having danced for more than an hour. They were sipping a little wine, and talking. The wine was pungent, tasting like dark, liquid velvet. They were talking of astrometrics and interests, two unrelated subjects, but still making good conversation. They sat there for a long time, just enjoying one another's company. Seven relaxed back into Harry's arms, resting her head on his chest. Harry adjusted his position so that he could hold her close. For a long time, they stayed like that, and they were content.
Kathryn strode down the hallways of Voyager, Chakotay struggling to keep up. She was ... What was she feeling, exactly? Angry, disappointed, embarrassed, in pain, in love? None of those? All of them? All she knew was that she was feeling something really, really strong. She was walking faster and faster, almost trying to outrun the unwanted feelings. Chakotay just kept increasing his pace with her, and she knew that he wanted to talk. She kept on going, though, even as she saw the disappointment etched into his expression. She saw the turbolift doors ahead, and knew that the ride to the officers' quarters would be interminable. She practically ran into the lift doors, as they were a little too slow to open for her pace. When she turned to face the doors, she saw that Chakotay hesitated, and then boarded the lift as well. She realized that he was struggling with his feelings too.
Chakotay hung back for a moment before going into the lift. He knew that Kathryn would be uncomfortable in the small space there with him. He could see that she was having second thoughts about their relationship, all because of the evidence that they had been under alien influence. He stepped in after her. Silently, he cursed the Doctor for telling them that they had been affected by the alien. Then Kathryn would most likely be in his embrace right now. Chakotay shook his head to clear such thoughts from his mind. It was not the Doctor's fault, he was just doing his job. And this was really not the time to be thinking about holding Kathryn in his arms, about how good it felt to be near her, about how her lips felt under his ... Chakotay realized that his mind was wandering again. He risked a glance at her, and was not encouraged. Instead of the warm looks she had given him when they had been together in her quarters, hell, even the looks she gave him on the bridge, her face was schooled to the perfect, stony, captain's poker face. Unfortunately, it made her unapproachable to Chakotay. He turned towards the turbolift door as well, keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead, not trusting himself to look at her again.
The alien was watching the two humans in fascination. They had been the only ones to break its control over them (though it had no idea how). They were also exhibiting the strangest behaviour ... They both wanted something. In fact, they wanted the same thing. Yet they still denied it to themselves, simply out of fear. This warranted further observation. It would stay to see how the situation played out ... In truth, it was like watching an old 20th century soap opera, had it been interested in such things.
Janeway risked a glance at Chakotay. He was staring intently at something she could not see. She knew that he thought that she was going to reject him. The trouble was, she thought the same thing herself ... Damn protocol. Damn the alien. And damn the feelings that she was trying to suppress. She believed that emotions were the last thing that she should be considering right now. She decided to lock them away deep inside her ...
Chakotay was afraid. He was very afraid. He could see that before, Janeway had been shaken, but she was at least responding with emotions. Now she was visibly isolating herself from them, and from Chakotay. He felt a chill in his stomach, and his heart sank. She was going to stop this before it even had a chance to start ...
They left the turbolift together, still not looking at one another, afraid of what the other might say. Janeway went to the door to her quarters, and was about to tap in the code, when she saw Chakotay take the extra couple of steps from his door to hers. She paused, and then tapped the code in anyway. She stepped into her quarters, hoping that by some miracle, Chakotay would just go to his quarters and not talk about what she knew was going through his mind. And, she admitted silently, her mind as well. He stood at her door, looking at her from outside. She put on her best 'Captain's Mask'. 'What is it, Commander?'
'Don't.'
'Excuse me?'
'Don't isolate yourself from me. Not after what happened.'
'Nothing happened between us, Commander. That was not us.'
'I don't believe that. And I don't think you do, either.'
'Who are you to tell me that?'
'I'm your First Officer, I'm your friend ...'
'Oh?'
' ... And I'm your lover.'
'Don't say that. You aren't my lover. Nothing happened between us,' she repeated, panic clear on her face. 'How can you stand there and say that? How can you deny what we did? Kathryn, you did this after New Earth. Please, don't do it again.'
She was torn. She believed in their feelings, but was afraid to admit it. She was afraid ... She was afraid of the intensity of her feelings for him. She did love him ... Gods, she had always loved him. But there was no way that they could go back.
Chakotay looked at her face, saw the expression there. He realized that he could not do this to her anymore. He was causing her pain. Anything else would pale compared to that. He could not bring himself to do anything that would distress her. Even if it meant giving up his own happiness for her. 'I'm sorry, Captain. It's ... just been a stressful day for me. It wasn't intended for you.' The words felt like ashes in his mouth, dry and bitter. Her Captain's Face snapped back into place at this unexpected opportunity. 'Of course, Commander. I understand.'
Chakotay moved back a few steps, allowing the doors to close in front of him. When they did, he let out a long breath, leaning against the bulkhead. A few moments later, he shook himself mentally, and walked the few meters into his quarters. He slowly undressed, cleaned his teeth, and got into bed. He felt tired and emotionally drained, and yet he could not sleep. His bedclothes were twisted up as he moved almost continuously, turning over and over, as if trying to outroll the cloud that hung over him. Finally, he fell into a fitful sleep.
Janeway too was trying not to think about her feelings. She paced quickly around the room. She realized that this was probably not the best way to relax, so she went to the replicator, and asked for hot camomile tea. It had always been her favourite drink to relax with, aside from coffee, of course. She set it down onto the table to cool while she changed into her sleepwear. She sat for a few minutes while she drank it, took it to the replicator to have it recycled, and climbed into bed. She felt the misery erupting in the pit of her stomach, enveloping her, eating away at her very soul. Her bed, her bedclothes, the air, all smelled of Chakotay. She held on to the covers tightly, trying to will the pain away. When she thought she was in control, she slowly relaxed her hold. The misery was still there, like a weight on her heart, making her feel stifled and heavy. She turned over onto her side, and covered her face with her hands. The tears flowed out from between her fingers, dropping onto the pillow like so many raindrops. After a time, when the tears no longer came so copiously, and the shudders that had racked her body so violently had quieted, she fell into a deep sleep.
Tuvok went into the mess hall with some trepidation. He was there for a late night snack, as he needed the energy boost to be able to take on the next double shift. He was concerned that Neelix might try to force another smile from him ... He forced the thought from his mind, and moved towards the counter. As soon as he reached it, Neelix suddenly popped up from behind it. 'Mr Vulcan! How lovely to see you!'
'Mr Neelix, do you have anything to eat?'
Neelix opened his mouth, and Tuvok quickly added,
'Something other than leola root? I am attempting to broaden my horizons ...'
As soon as he said it, Tuvok knew that it was a mistake. He could now look forward to the rest of his time on Voyager with Neelix there to help him with that particular activity. 'What a good idea, Mr Vulcan. I will, of course be helping you in any way I can. However ... uhm ...' 'Yes, Mr Neelix?'
'I will be otherwise engaged most of the time. I hear there are some very depressed people down in maintenance ...' Neelix was, in actual fact, remembering what Vulcan opera was like.
'That is quite alright, Mr Neelix. I am capable of doing this for myself. Your efforts are ...' he dredged up the word, ' … appreciated.' 'Thank you, Mr Tuvok. Now, there is some bread in here, and soup is in the big orange pot there. Help yourself. Good night.' 'Good night, Mr Neelix.'
Neelix hurried out of the mess hall, just in case Tuvok decided to start singing again. Tuvok, of course, was ecstatic that Neelix was leaving him alone for once. Though he was trying not to show it.
Chakotay stood on the cliff, watching Kathryn standing on the edge. He was isolated in a bubble, unable to make himself heard. He saw Kathryn come to a decision. She took a deep breath, and he could tell that she was going to jump. He slammed his fist against the sides of the bubble, shouting her name, trying to make her look at him, make her see the love for her in his eyes. She did not turn. Instead, she steeled herself, and cast herself off the edge. She fell, further and further away from him - 'KATHRYN!'
Chakotay awoke with a jolt, sweating, trembling with fright. He looked around, searching for the cliff, the bubble ... He realized that none of it had been real. The dream's horror was real, though. He could still feel the panic coursing through him. He took a deep breath, and then another, trying to calm himself enough to go back to sleep.
Kathryn stirred, half hearing Chakotay call out her name. In her mind, he had her enclosed in his embrace, caressing her back, whispering in her ear. She moved closer to him, knowing only how good it felt to hold him, to be near him ... She opened her eyes, still half asleep. 'Ohhh ... Chakotay ...'
She was roused from this half slumber by something ... Something intangible ... She held her pillow in her arms, clasping it tightly to her body, clutching it with her hands, trying to draw it as close to her as possible. She nearly threw it across the room in her disappointment. WHY WASN'T HE HERE?
For a few moments, she had been with Chakotay...
She wanted him.
Needed him.
She wanted him so badly it was almost a physical pain in her, torturing her like a wound, bleeding the life out of her. She had to go to him ... *No,* her mind told her. *It would send the wrong message to the crew. It would affect your command. It would be a breach of protocol. It would ruin your friendship. It would ...* Her rational mind was silenced by her instinct. She *must* go to him.
The doors to Chakotay's quarters hissed open, and light spilled into the room. Chakotay did not wake up, not even when they hissed shut again. Kathryn moved quietly to the bed, and saw him twisting and turning in the snarled up bedclothes. He was still asleep, though sweat dripped from his body. He was dreaming, Kathryn could see that much. His expression was of deep sorrow, and he moaned in his sleep.
'Kathryn ... no ... don't go ... stay with me ... please stay with me …'
He was begging her. Kathryn's expression grew soft as she looked at the man who even in sleep could not banish his feelings for her. She sat down on the bed, and crossing her legs, she gently lifted his head, and placed it in her lap. She stroked his short dark hair, looking tenderly down into his face. 'Shhhh ... Shhhh.' It became a soothing rhythm for them both, lulling them to quiet once more. 'I'm here. It's all right.'
The anguish that they had both felt dissolved into the comforting cadence of her low voice. For a while, they slept.
The Doctor entered the holodeck. Alone. He sighed dramatically; no one had wanted to do the opera with him, not even Commander Tuvok. It was a pity, these other opera singers were *all* insufferable. He took up his place beside the fireplace, and instructed the computer to begin the first act. Halfway through, the Doctor realized that this was really not the way to gain the attention of the crew. What he needed was something a little more ... A little more ... Something with which they could identify, he amended. While opera was enjoyable to him, most other people fell asleep from it. 'Halt playback.'
The music abruptly stopped, and an indignant young woman came down the steps, and screeched at him in an overdone Italian accent: 'Why you stop the music, heh? I was doing perrrfectly on my sollo!'
The Doctor had had enough of her shrieking for one day.
'Computer, delete character. In fact, end program.'
The old house and the fireplace dissolved, to show the silver lattice of the holodeck. The Doctor went over to the doors, and tapped at the console to one side. He accessed the 20th century music collection (he had overheard Ensign Paris' appreciation of this particular era's music), and looked at the considerable list. Hmm. What to choose, what to choose. For a few hours, the Doctor played back the old videos (modified to 3D for the holodeck, of course), and eventually found one that he wanted to perform in. He would be ... A Spice Girl!
As usual, there was again no one on deck nine section twelve who did *not* know when Ensign Paris and Lieutenant Torres were having 'intimate relations'. That particular area had cleared rather quickly.
Some time later, Kathryn awoke, a little disoriented. She was lying on her side, and in Chakotay's quarters. She vaguely remembered coming here a few hours ago ... She sat up. She did not want to leave, but some of the trepidation of before came rushing back. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and stood up. She stayed there for a moment, looking at Chakotay's sleeping form. This would probably be the last time she ever saw him like this ... She moved towards the door.
'Kathryn ...'
His voice stopped her.
She turned to look at him, and was struck by the vulnerability that she saw in his eyes. 'Kathryn ... no ... don't go ... stay with me ... please stay with me ...'
They were the same words that he had pleaded with in his dreams.
'Chakotay ... I can't. I shouldn't have come here ... I wasn't thinking ...'
Chakotay was sitting up on the bed.
'You must have ... You came before ... don't you want to be here?'
Once more, a look of confusion, hurt, fear crossed her face. She was remembering her dreams. ' ... You were there ... then ... then you weren't ... you went away ... why did you go away ...' she said brokenly. Chakotay looked at her exposed countenance, and knew that she needed reassurance. It took him three steps to reach her. He gathered her into his arms and held her close to him. She needed to feel his nearness, that he was there, that he had not gone away ... He strained her shivering frame to him. She had her arms folded up, holding them against her chest, forcing herself into a smaller form so that the pain would be locked out, would leave her alone. Then Chakotay released her. She felt a great sense of loss when she came out of his embrace, but she knew that she shouldn't stay. She had to go away, put this behind her, gather the shattered parts of her spirit and put them back together. She pulled further away from him, and backed towards the door. Whatever Chakotay had been expecting, it was not this. 'Where are you going?'
'I have to go back ... I can't stay ... The crew ... It wouldn't be fair ...'
'You're going to forget this ever happened, aren't you?'
She remained silent.
'Please, Kathryn, don't do it again. I can't go back to being only your First Officer. Not after this.' 'Why not? You did it after New Earth. Why not now?'
'Because after New Earth, I knew it was what you wanted.'
His voice took on a harder edge.
'Now I know that you want this as much as I do.'
She was standing there, listening to him. Really listening to him.
'I *want* us to be together, I need us to be together. I have for so long. Not a day goes by when I don't look at you, and remember how good it is to be with you. If you want it too ... How can it be wrong?' Kathryn was still standing there forlornly. Chakotay wanted very much to go to her, but he knew that he had to get this out. 'How can it be wrong, when *I* *love* *you*.' He said each word with quiet intensity. He watched her as the feelings flickered across her face, and saw that she could not speak. In her eyes was the pain that she had carried for the past three years, ever since they had been stranded on New Earth. They had lived there for a time, in a life of freedom, a life of intimacy and joy. A life that had been callously snatched away from them when Voyager had returned, and they had gone back to being Captain and First Officer. Finally, she came to some silent decision. She straightened slightly, and raised her eyes to meet his gaze. 'I ... love you too ... Chakotay ... I want to be with you so much it's like ...'
Her voice failed her. A few seconds passed while she pulled herself together.
'I want to be with you so much it's like a physical pain when I'm not,' she finished quietly. There. She had said it. She had exposed her true feelings to him, something that she had never dared to do, not even with Mark. She grew calmer, now that the hard part was over. Chakotay realized that what she had done, she had done for *him*. She had made one of the biggest sacrifices that she could make. She had bared her soul to him.
The creature slowly floated away, satisfied that humans were not really the ideal race to run these tests upon. They were really too rudimentary for it ... It needed something with more experience, more challenge. It had come across something interesting in the starship's database, in fact. Some race called the Q? Intriguing. 'There are always possibilities,' it would have thought to itself, had it been capable of such a primitive form of coherence. 'Hmm… Possibilities…'
And it went to find the Q.
Epilogue
She looked at Chakotay, saw the vulnerable look on his face, saw that his eyes were shining with unshed tears, and held him close. He buried his face in the hollow between her neck and her shoulder, and let the tears fall. They were tears of happiness, tears of joy, tears of release from the burden that he had carried for five years. The five years that he had known as a Captain, a friend, and now as a woman, Kathryn Janeway.
The End
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