"It's… beautiful," she breathed, her hands steepled in front of her face. She ran her fingers down along her chin and shook her head.

Chakotay had been busy in the log room all afternoon and had refused to let her watch him. And despite how tempting it had been to disobey his wishes, she hadn't. He had wanted to surprise her. And he certainly had.

The bed was breathtaking. Made from natural tree limbs, it reached almost to the ceiling, with a twisting canopy frame encircled with replicated green vines and purple flowers. He'd taken the mattresses from both of their single beds and seamed them into one. And he'd arranged the pillows and blankets on top. Instead of pushing the bed into a corner or against the wall, he'd positioned it in the middle of the room, directly under the skylight, in front of the fireplace. Just where she would have placed it.

He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed nearest the hearth. "This is your side," he said softly, his voice sounding weary.

In the fading light, Kathryn could see the creases of exhaustion on his face. She moved over and sat down beside him, her thigh pressed close to his. "We can share," she whispered.

Chakotay reached his hand over to hers, their fingers intertwining on top of her knee. His hand felt overly warm, and with immediate concern, she touched her other hand to his forehead.

"Chakotay! You're burning up."

He shook his head in denial. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"You're not fine."

She got up and disappeared into the other room, returning in a few moments with a medical kit. She set it on the bedside table and took out a tricorder.

"Kathryn…" He tried to push the tricorder away as she ran it over his body.

"Sit still," she instructed. "And that's an order," she added when she saw him start to protest.

"Uh-uh." He managed a crooked smile. "You can't give me orders."

"Under these circumstances, I can and will." It was definitely her captain's voice. She studied the tricorder readings. "You're sick, Chakotay."

He shook his head again and winced, the gentle movement stirring the beginnings of a headache. But still, he tried to negate the seriousness of her diagnosis. "It's… nothing. Just a cold." He stared up at her with fevered eyes.

And Kathryn silently chastised herself. She should have seen it coming. That morning, when he'd broken out in a fine sheen of perspiration just from her tickling him. And at lunch, when he'd played with his food instead of actually eating it. He'd said he wasn't hungry, that he was eager to get back to work. But she should have known.

"Don't go blaming yourself," he muttered, seeing the familiar look of responsibility lighting her eyes. "You didn't make me sick. It just happened. And… I'm sorry."

The look of concern on her face softened, and she rubbed a hand along his cheek. "It's not your fault."

He nodded. "I know. I'm just… sorry that the only thing… I'm planning on doing in this bed tonight is sleeping." He gave her an exhausted smile and lay back against the pillows.

Kathryn laughed and leaned over him. "You are a lousy host," she agreed, returning the tricorder to the kit and taking out a hypospray. She adjusted it and pressed it to Chakotay's neck. He winced slightly, and she rubbed her fingers over his skin. "That was something to help bring down your temperature. It's not terribly high, just enough to make you feel uncomfortable."

He gave her a slightly irritated look.

"And enough to make me overreact," she admitted. "I think you're right. The readings confirm an ordinary cold. But that could turn into flu symptoms if we're not careful. After all, as far as illnesses are concerned, we don't know what to expect on this planet." She placed the hypospray in the medical kit and then looked back at him. "So, as your doctor, I prescribe fluids and plenty of rest. Starting now."

Chakotay grinned weakly. "Your bedside manner is… definitely better… than the Doctor's." And then he sneezed.

"Bless you," Kathryn murmured. "And thank you. I'd like to think my manner is a little more personal than our beloved Emergency Medical Hologram."

Chakotay coughed slightly. "But I will miss Kes," he added, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh, no you won't," she assured him as she began to take of his shirt. "You haven't been nursed until you've been nursed by Kathryn Janeway."

Chakotay cocked an eyebrow at her, but chose to remain silent. He felt it might be safer that way. Probably not as much fun, but safer.

Ten minutes later, Kathryn had managed to change him into a pair of warm pajamas and tuck him in under a mass of blankets. He lay propped up against the pillows while she replicated a bowl of chicken soup.

"I'm sure it won't have the personal touch that Neelix would have added to it," she apologized as she came back and settled on the edge of the bed, "but I think it will do nicely."

He stared up at her. "I'm really not hungry, Kathryn," he murmured, shifting uncomfortably under the covers. One minute he was hot, and the next he was cold. And every now and then, all he wanted was to have her beside him.

"Is the bed comfortable?" she asked, as if reading his thoughts.

He sighed in frustration. "If I didn't have a fever, and if you were lying beside me, I think it would be wonderful. But since I do, and you're not, it isn't."

Kathryn shook her head and smiled. "That's one thing I like about you, Chakotay. You're so… succinct." She lifted a spoonful of soup to his mouth. "Now, try this."

"Kathryn…" he started to protest.

"Um-um. Don't talk," she insisted, pushing the spoon past his closed lips.

He swallowed despite his protests, the liquid trailing down his throat and warming his chest and stomach. He smiled slightly.

"Tastes good, doesn't it?" She gazed at him with a look of smug satisfaction on her face.

He nodded, too tired to argue. She fed him another spoonful.

"I thought you might like it. I know you prefer mushroom, but I don't think it has the same healing qualities."

He closed his eyes and then opened them. "I am sorry," he whispered, staring up into her eyes. She was so beautiful. "I… I want you, Kathryn."

She lowered the spoon back to the bowl, a slight frown crossing her face. "Chakotay…"

"No, that's not what I mean," he cut her off, realizing that he must sound like a man who only had one thing on his mind. "I mean… I do want you… I…" He felt as if he were digging the hole deeper.

And thankfully, she helped him climb out.

Touching her fingers to his forehead, she whispered, "I know what you mean." Her frown faded away, replaced with an expression of understanding.

"I just… I wanted to hold you tonight, and now…" He gave her a defeated look. "You're feeding me soup."

"Hey," she rubbed one finger along the lines of his tattoo, "we'll have plenty of nights to lie in this bed holding each other. I promise. Now stop worrying and get some rest. I'm going to light the fire and go get a chair and curl up with a good book. I'll be right here if you need me."

She started to pull her hand away, but he took hold of it, and kissed her palm. "I need you, but I think I can sleep as long as you don't go too far."

"Good." She leaned over and placed a kiss on his forehead. "I feel the same way about you."

~vVv~

He tossed and turned. And he dreamed. Disjointed dreams of his life before Voyager, on Voyager, and his life here. The separate worlds seemed to mix together, and he saw himself on the bridge, sharing a knowing smile with the captain, and then turning away and seeing Seska. And then he was on the Maquis ship, hurtling toward a Kazon vessel, and then the tingling sensation of the transporter beam, and then the sudden pain in his leg as it shattered on the falling metal stairs on the Ocampa homeworld.

And then, soft sounds of assurance and a gentle touch to his forehead caused him to stir awake, his eyes opening to a dimly lit room, the reflection of firelight on the walls, distant stars shining through the ceiling above.

"Shh, Chakotay. You're all right. I'm here."

Kathryn sat next to him on the edge of the bed, gently bathing his face and neck with a warm, damp cloth. He was freezing cold, but the cloth felt good. He tried to speak, but his teeth felt as if they were actually chattering, and he couldn't form the words.

"Shh, I know," she whispered, her fingers running through his hair, massaging his scalp. The gentle pressure helped him relax. "Lots of dreams, nightmares. But you're safe. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

He swallowed and nodded, his eyes holding hers for a few seconds before he closed them. And he fell, back into images and memories of long ago. But this time, she was beside him, and he wasn't alone.

~vVv~

He woke to the sound of birds outside and soft, gentle breathing issuing from the chair next to the bed. He turned over onto his side and stared at the woman curled under a blanket, a book propped precariously over one leg. He didn't see how she managed to sleep in such an awkward position, and he felt guilty for the comfort of the bed on which he was lying. Not for the first time, he wished she were snuggled next to him. Sure, she might catch his cold, but odds were she would come down with it anyway. After all, he'd just kissed her the morning before. She was probably already infected. And as he was fond of saying, misery loved company.

Surprisingly, however, he didn't feel as miserable as he had the night before. Either the hypospray or the chicken soup had done the trick, for he felt much stronger, and he didn't feel overly cold or hot, which he thought was probably a good sign. He did feel slightly uncomfortable though, a definite pressure in his lower abdomen. A quick trip to the bathroom would help relieve that.

Quietly, he pushed back the many blankets that covered him, and shivered slightly as the cool, early morning air hit his body. He felt grimy and sweaty, and he realized that his fever had probably broken sometime in the night. He longed for a hot bath or even a sonic shower, but when he gained his footing, he still felt a bit weak and dizzy. He braced himself against the edge of the bed as he moved toward the bathroom.

He didn't hear her get up, but suddenly felt an arm wrap around his back, and a hand supporting him under the shoulder.

"I would ask where you're going, but I think I know," she said softly, leading him toward the bathroom.

"I can make it on my own," he insisted, glancing over at her. She was amazingly beautiful for a woman who had just spent the night doubled up in a chair.

She shook her tousled brown hair back behind her shoulders. "No you can't." And she gave him that look that let him know that she knew. And he always wondered how she knew, but she did.

He sagged against her. "All right. Maybe I can't. Thanks for helping."

"Think nothing of it."

A few moments later, they reached the bathroom and she released him. "Hold on to the walls, and I think you'll be all right."

He nodded and moved away from her, into the small room, each step slow and unsteady.

"Call for me if you fall in," she laughed, leaning against the door frame.

"That could be a possibility," he replied, steadying his hand against the bathroom wall.

From the corner of his eye, he could see her standing in the doorway, keeping watch over him. Her presence was comforting, and he took care of business as quickly as possible so that he could rejoin her.

When he emerged from the bathroom, she immediately slipped her arms back around him, warm hands pressing into his shoulders. "I think you're looking a little better this morning," she observed as they made their way back into their new bedroom.

"I feel better," he said, only slightly out of breath.

Kathryn eased him back onto the bed and helped him slip his legs under the blankets. She reached over, retrieved the tricorder from the medical kit, and scanned him. "You should be feeling better," she remarked, with a sigh of relief. "According to this, your temperature is back to normal."

"Good." He smiled and gave her the impression that he wasn't going to stay put for long.

She set the tricorder on the bedside table. "But," she continued, placing a hand firmly on his shoulder, "I think a day in bed would be advisable."

"I'm not sick," he insisted, shaking his head.

"No, but you're still weak." She rubbed her other hand over his forehead. "And I've got to get you strong. Chances are you'll have to take care of me when I come down with your cold."

He grinned slyly. "That is a possibility, isn't it?"

She nodded, giving him a grin of her own. "Um-um. Especially since you kissed me yesterday morning."

He snapped his fingers. "I knew there was something missing to my morning."

She leaned over and kissed his forehead. "That's all you get for now."

"You're cold, Kathryn Janeway," he said with a frustrated sigh.

"Just call me Ice Woman," she laughed. "Now, I think I'll go prepare us some breakfast."

He watched as she disappeared into the next room. And suddenly, the bed felt too big and lonely. A peculiar feeling washed over him.

"Kathryn?"

"Just a minute."

"Kathryn?" he called again, the tone in his voice more intense.

She appeared in the open doorway. "I'll be there in a minute. I'm trying to fix breakfast."

"I'm not hungry… just come sit with me."

She came into the room and over to the bed, sensing that something was wrong. She sat down beside him, her hand resting on his blanket-covered knee, her eyes studying the expression on his face. "What is it?" she whispered.

And he suddenly felt foolish and childish for missing her. She'd only been in the next room for a few seconds, but still…

"I, um… I'm lonely without you," he admitted, his head tilting forward, eyes focused on the blanket that covered him. "I think… it has something to do with the fact that there's just the two of us. Everything seems bigger. Even loneliness."

He felt her hand touch the back of his neck, caressing the tight, tense muscles. "I know what you mean. I was so lonely last night, watching you sleep, and not being able to hold you. I couldn't help thinking what if…" She hesitated, swallowed deeply.

Chakotay looked up, saw the tears that had gathered in her eyes. He reached out and took hold of her hand. "I'm right here, Kathryn."

She nodded. "I know. But I still kept thinking that… you might not always be here. If something happened to you…"

"Or you," he whispered.

Their hands tightened and their eyes locked on to each other. And then Chakotay moved over in the bed and lifted the blankets. "Since that kiss probably infected you anyway, I could use some company," he suggested.

Kathryn smiled and crawled under the covers beside him. She snuggled into his arms. "What about breakfast?" she murmured.

He held her tightly. "Maybe later. I have all that I need right now."

~vVv~