Chapter 3

"Captain! Captain, can you hear me?"

Janeway blinked. She felt there were people moving around her, there was a constant shouting and shuffling of feet. She made out the Doctor's grim face next to her. "So much for 'nothing special'. It seems the safety protocols are disabled - as usual in dangerous situations," he added sarcastically. "It would seem necessary that I assume a more... solid role in this romance of yours; Captain, if you will excuse me."

She weakly raised her hands. "Doctor, wait... can't..."

"A Doctor! She needs a Doctor!" The place of Voyager's chief medic was exchanged with someone she knew all too well. Chakotay held her hand. She felt a strong sense of deja-vu – she was hurt, he was by her side, worried. But she had to remind herself again, that this was not sickbay, and he was not her First Officer.

"Lu- Mrs Davenport," he said quickly, glancing at some of his guests around him, "can you hear me?"

"Yes, don't worry, I'm fine," she managed. Ouch. Why do I always say that? She quickly assessed the damage – probably a twisted ankle. And a severe headache, she added. Her hand touched her head, to check if there was any blood. And what did the Doctor say? Why did he leave? No blood, thank goodness for that.

She felt several of the men lift her up, carrying her over to the drawing room. She faintly recognised another familiar face.

"Tom?"

"Easy now, don't move her too fast," she heard him say. She was put down on a small sofa and tried to stay conscious, as the bustle around her continued. One thing stuck out, though. She heard a woman faint, and some other people started attending to her. Through the swishing dresses, Janeway thought she caught a glimpse of her – and her distinct forehead ridges.

After that, she tried to get a better look at her, but everything was still a bit hazy around her. She didn't quite know how much time passed, but suddenly she heard Chakotay's voice. "A Doctor, finally! In here please, quickly now!"

Again, the Doctor's familiar face appeared before her, but now framed by a stiff white collar, completing his flawless 19th century 'physician' look, waistcoat and all. He gave her a quick check, then proclaimed he needed space and ordered everyone else out. When they were alone, he quickly produced a medical tricorder.

"That's not very... in character, Doctor." Captain Janeway pulled a lop-sided grin, realising she was in quite a lot of pain.

"Luckily I'm always prepared," he said, " or you would be in serious trouble. The ankle they can deal with, but with the head, I'm not so sure." He pressed a hypospray against her neck and pulled out even more small equipment. Hovering his instruments over her head, he said, "I saw Mr Paris, by the way. He seems to be one of the gentlemen in the party. I wonder what his role is."

Janeway had an idea, but knowing his sarcasm, kept it to herself. "I know, I saw him too. And B'Elanna." That left only Seven. On a sudden hunch, she looked around the drawing room, until she found it. Her heart skipped a beat.

"You do realise that someone pushed you. This house is more dangerous than I imagined. You're going to have to be more careful, Captain. This is no game." The Doctor was working on her ankle now. "You should have..." he looked up and stopped when he saw her face.

Janeway was silent. She stared at the one thing telling her that he was right. This was only the beginning. She tried her voice, it was grim. "You're right. We're in trouble."

The Doctor followed her eyes. On the wall next to the window hung a large portrait. He gasped. The black curls of Beatrice and Henry's mother had been replaced by blonde ringlets, and she suddenly had a curious metallic adornment over her left eye.

"But that's Seven! How did she end up in that portrait?" He got up to get a closer look.

"That," Janeway said, pulling herself up into a sitting position, "is a portrait of the late Lady Burleigh."

"But if she's dead, why would the computer..." his voice trailed off as he realised the implications of this thought. "So..."

"So, she's not dead. She's alive, and if I'm not mistaken, imprisoned on the fourth floor. And I think I can safely conclude who was responsible for my little trip down the stairs."

The Doctor was shocked. Janeway guessed he wasn't too comfortable thinking of Seven as the 'evil mother' character. He came back to the sofa, and finished treating her ankle. "And I thought this was a harmless romance novel. Be more specific with your plot descriptions next time! You are in serious danger!"

Janeway raised her hands defensively. "Now wait a minute, I could hardly know the safeties would be down. Plus, I think it's Seven we should be worried about, not me."

"And why is that? The last time I checked, she pushed you down the stairs."

"I'm supposed to end up with Lord Burleigh. And what, in the 19th century, is the first obstacle in our way?"

"Oh."

Janeway involuntarily balled her hands to fists. "Sooner or later, she will die, and this time, for real. And if she goes, the Computer might delete her pattern - we cannot let that happen. And yet, there's no way for me to prevent it!"

The Doctor packed his things away and looked at her hopefully. "Maybe you could be really unfriendly to Lord Burleigh?"

She thought about it, but shook her head. "I don't think I have that much control over the plot. It has its boundaries. All we can do is delay it. But not indefinitely."

They were startled by a gentle knock on the door. Speak of the devil, Janewaythought. It was Lord Burleigh, inquiring after the patient, trying to make it look as inconspicuous as possible. The Doctor assured him that his governess was fine, but should stay put for the evening – he couldn't really pretend he healed a twisted ankle just by looking at it, so Janeway was confined to her sofa.

Again, Lord Burleigh pretended to be only mildly glad, although his eyes – Chakotay's eyes – told her differently. The attending guests started filling the drawing room again, and since the governess was nobody of consequence to them, regained their good mood rather quickly. Janeway had a hard time looking weak and unimportant now, she was in full Captain mode, thinking rapidly about her options, about what she could do to prevent a catastrophe – whilst being chained to a sofa in a room full of people alien to her and her world.

The Doctor, she noticed, had been pressed to stay, and was immediately immersed in a conversation about medical practice with one or two of the guests, who hung on his every word.

Janeway started watching the others, and specifically looked out for Tom and B'Elanna. Their characters had to be important, in some way. Her eyes finally found him, standing next to a very beautiful woman with shining dark curls. When she turned a little, she saw it was B'Elanna, looking amazing in her shining sky blue dress. Tom looked quite handsome himself, all dressed up like a gentleman. He seemed to notice her watching him, so he walked over to the couch and pulled himself a chair.

"May I join you?"

Janeway had to suppress a grin - his accent - and simply nodded most graciously. It took her about five minutes to know what his part was. He was way out of line, to start with, introducing himself ("George Pearson, at your service") instead of being introduced (properly), and he was blatantly and impertinently trying to impress her. First, by inquiring about her health, then by complimenting her strength and so on. He was flamboyant, and a bit too sure of himself.

"Tell me, Mrs Davenport, what is so funny?"

Janeway tried to look modest, but thought, what the hell; "It is just, Mr Pearson, you remind me of someone I know."

His answer was as prompt as it was predictable. "Someone you like, I hope," he said with mock indignation.

"Fortunately, yes," she smiled. His face lit up. "Then, by all means, call me George. I hate all this Mr and Mrs business." He probably expected her to accept that and offer her name, but she simply made no comment. Instead, she steered the conversation to the guests, primarily interested in where exactly the plot was going. Ironically, it turned out B'Elanna, or Adelaide, was his sister. Tom was most happy to indulge his captain with any gossip she might be interested in. Janeway wondered if he was going to divulge any dirty family secrets if she asked nicely.

"Your sister is very beautiful, Mr Pearson. I'm sure she has many suitors here."

"Really, it's George." He gestured around. "Oh and there are a few. But just between the two of us, there's only one she's got her eyes on." He looked across the room. B'Elanna was now seated with three others around a bridge table. Chakotay sat next to her, and she was literally all over him, as much as she could in this century anyway. She bowed forward to pick up a card she had clumsily dropped – her hair quite naturally brushed his cheek. She continually made comments and jokes that were probably meant for him. In fact she was so busy trying to attract him, she was totally unaware that he was not the least bit amused.

Of course, he looked amused. He played along with her games, was courteous, even a little flirtatious. But his eyes were somewhere else. Janeway saw that he held no esteem for this woman whatsoever.

"I think it's only a matter of time now." Tom grinned and clicked his tongue. "Nice catch, don't you think? They make quite a striking pair."

Janeway tore her gaze from Chakotay. "They do indeed." It was ironic. This was all designed to make her jealous – and now she actually was. Yes, it wasn't real; yes, this wasn't him. But still, deep down her instincts fuelled a fire that couldn't be suppressed so easily.

She had trusted him with her heart a long time ago. She felt a lurch in her stomach when this realisation dawned on her. He belonged to her. As surely as she belonged on Voyager's bridge, his place was right by her side. In all respects.

She tried to shake the thought and concentrate on Tom instead, who was eyeing her curiously. He had said something. "Pardon me?"

He smiled, but his face radiated pure arrogance. "I said, too bad you're confined to the sofa. The air is lovely tonight, and it is still warm for this time of year. But," he sighed, "I guess I'll have to take you on a stroll another day."

Janeway thought she would rather still have a real twisted ankle than stroll through the garden with George. She tried to smile, but was still occupied with B'Elanna and Chakotay. She saw him lean over to her to say something. She managed a genuine blush and they got up to leave the room.

Tom was watching them as well. "It seems my dear sister thinks along the same paths as I." He looked pleased, but leaned over to Janeway. "Jealous?"

She was startled and laughed it off as convincingly as she could. "Don't be ridiculous." He pulled his devious grin again. "Tell me, Mrs Davenport," he stressed her name in a mock serious voice. "What will you do when his Lordship takes a new wife? Oh and by the way," he continued, "you have been married, too?"

Janeway turned to him again, and pulled her thoughts together. "Yes, I have. Unfortunately, Mr Davenport died a few years ago, and I returned to being a governess."

"How tragic. He left you so young – and penniless!"

She gnashed her teeth and tried to ignore the 'so young' part without blushing. "Indeed he did. And to answer your first question, I will simply seek a new situation. I am sure his Lordship will assist me."

"Oh I'm sure he will. He knows so many people, there is bound to be someone who will employ a talented governess."

Janeway threw him a smug grin. "And how would you know how talented I am, Mr Pearson?"

He was slightly taken aback by her comment. She mentally scolded herself to be more Mrs Davenport and less Kathryn Janeway. This was not the time to have fun, she needed to stay focussed. It seemed she had only encouraged her suitor more. He was beginning to become annoyingly suggestive, when the Doctor suddenly approached and relieved her from her misery.

"Excuse me, sir, but I believe my patient needs some rest now. Mrs Davenport, if you please." He offered an arm, and Tom jumped up to help her up, too.

"But she hasn't had dinner yet!"

"I'll have something sent up. Please," the Doctor led her away, with Janeway putting on a most convincing limp. When they reached the door, she entreated Tom to 'stay and not bother himself', and he grudgingly wished her a good night.

When they were alone again, Janeway stretched and sighed. "Thanks Doctor, I owe you one."

He raised his eyebrows. "It seems Mr Paris hasn't changed much."

The Captain shook her head, laughing silently, and heaved up her massive dress to ascend the stairs. When they reached her room, she simply fell back on her bed, spreading her arms over the soft material. The Doctor produced his tricorder again and hovered it around her. "Your head is all right, Captain, but when this is all over, I want to see you in sickbay, no excuses."

She moaned and rubbed her waistline. "You can probably add a few cracked ribs to the list by then. This dress is killing me! Don't say anything," she added, seeing his smug grin. Some recreation this turned out to be.

The Doctor returned downstairs, as the guests would surely expect him at dinner. When he had left, she sat down at her small dressing table. She knew she shouldn't really get ready for bed, but loosened a few strands of hair from her bun to relax and leaned back. She smelled the cool night air through the half open window, saw the glimmer of her candle reflected in the mirror; the dark carved wood under her fingers; she couldn't help being drawn in by the atmosphere. She knew it wasn't real, but somehow that didn't ease the pressure weighing heavily on her heart. This was earth, home, and no matter what century, it felt so, so good to be 'off' a starship for once.

She stood up and walked to the window. It was getting darker, but she could still make out two figures walking back towards the house. Of course, it was Lord Burleigh and Miss Pearson – his half-Klingon would be bride. They were talking, but suddenly, just for a second, Janeway saw Chakotay's gaze flicker up towards her window. Her heart skipped a beat. She retreated a little but continued to watch them. He offered his arm to the lady, who graciously accepted. They returned inside.

Janeway lay down on the bed again. She wondered how much time was passing now, and what was going to happen next. What influence would the Doctor have? And yet, all her thoughts strayed back to Chakotay. She hadn't been prepared for her feelings. She genuinely hated seeing him with another woman, real or not. She sighed. It was situations like these that she wished they had a counsellor on board. If only Kes was still with them. Just someone to talk to, to ask for advice. Usually that someone was her First Officer. But in this case...

She sat up, startled, when she heard a tentative knock on the door. Before she could say anything, the Doctor slipped back inside. "Doctor!"

He held up his hands reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'm officially sitting in a carriage home. I'm back to being the invisible observer."

Janeway grinned. "You really enjoyed yourself, didn't you?"

He straightened up and tried to look professional. "Never mind that, we need to be careful. I have a bad feeling about tonight."

She became serious. "Why? What else happened when I was gone?"

"Oh nothing special, really. Dinner was excellent, albeit a little rushed, and Miss Torres continued her less than subtle flirtation with the Commander..." when he saw her narrow eyes, he added, "which, as you might like to know, were quite ineffective." He grinned smugly.

"Doctor!"

"Anyway, after dinner, seeing that you weren't there, there was a rapid increase in speed again. Everyone has gone to bed now."

The Captain frowned. "So what's going to happen next?"

He looked worried. "I'm not sure. But something will happen very soon. Just when I came back here, I noticed time slow down to normal again."

She ran her fingers through her hair, forgetting she still wore her bun, causing half her hair falling down. It was hard enough maintaining it at all with her shorter hair now. She pushed one strand back, still thinking, trying to remember what had to be next. "We have to... out-think the programme," she murmured, "we need to know what's going to happen before it does."

The Doctor simply watched her in silence. Suddenly, she got to her feet. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Oh no." Her hand covered her mouth in shock. "The fire."

Seconds later, she was already outside, running down the corridor, hearing the Doctor shouting behind her. Her mind raced. Too soon! The faint cackling became louder as she neared Lord Burleigh's bedroom. She could smell it now. Ripping the door open, she jumped back at the initial onslaught of heat. But she did not hesitate – she'd been through worse on Voyager.

"Captain, get back, it's too dangerous!" The Doctor was beside her, holding her arm back.

"I have to help him! Doctor," she tore from his grip, and instead grabbed his arm and pulled him closer to listen. "I know what happens next," she hissed. "Go to the end of the corridor, there's a door. Go to the fourth floor."

"But what...?"

"Seven's up there. She mustn't leave! Go!"

He staggered back, completely bewildered, and ran off.

Janeway grabbed the pitcher of water from the night stand, holding one hand up to shield her eyes. She poured what she could over the burning bed. Her dress caught fire. Chakotay woke with a start. She grabbed a blanket and put down the remaining flames on the bed and herself. He took in the situation quickly, and jumped out of bed. His damp shirt hung loose around his shoulders, and Janeway thanked whoever made the programme that he was still wearing his trousers.

He stared at her; she was half drenched and scorched, her cheeks glowing and her eyes watering from the smoke. He stepped closer. She noticed his breathing. He took the pitcher from her and put it down without looking away. She knew this scene. She knew exactly what was going to happen, but was still unable to tear her gaze from his dark eyes.

He blinked. "My God, Lucie." He went to his dresser and grabbed a blanket. "My God," he said again. "Here." He put the blanket around her shoulders and stepped closer. "I believe you just saved my life."

In more ways than you think, she thought.

His hand grazed her cheek and wiped off some soot. "My sweet angel." All right, this was going too far. Janeway drew back instinctively. This was so wrong. He looked just like him! But she was pretty sure he'd never say stuff like that. He took her hands. "What would I just do without you?"

She tried to work it all out in her head, but the situation was just too weird to be true. He wrapped his arms around her with a sigh, and gently held her head against his chest. When he spoke, she heard the deep rumble in his chest – she so loved his voice.

"How foolish of me!" he exclaimed. "To put you in such danger! Never, never..." he paused, recollecting. Janeway tried to think of something to say. He loosened his arms to look at her. His fingers gently stroked through her loosened hair.

"M..my Lord," she started, her throat dry.

He lowered his face to meet her eyes. Memories of Chakotay flooded her, and she felt her last defences weaken. "Please, call me Edward." She felt soft lips on hers, and closed her eyes, simply letting it happen. He even smells like him! She thought of her best friend, her closest confidant; the man she had loved for so long. Just once, she wanted to know how it felt to be in his arms.

But reason did not let her indulge. This was neither the time nor the place to finally solve her love life conundrum. She pushed her feelings away, trying hard to get a grip on herself.

She pulled away from him. "No! No, we are in danger, we need to---"

"Don't, my love! Let us just forget this terrible accident!"

Now, she was fully alert. It occurred to her again, how obviously unlike Chakotay this man was.

"Accident!"

He let go of her, surprised.

She took a deep breath, shaking the last remainder of the kiss from her. "That was no accident. Just as I didn't just fall down the stairs - I was pushed!" Let's hope he doesn't remember my ankle...

"Lucie," he stammered, "what are you saying?" Chakotay's face contorted with anger and confusion. He raised his voice. "You are confused."

She straightened herself up and balled her hands. "I am not. You will tell me the truth, or I shall go to the fourth floor and find out myself."

He was clearly taken aback by her behaviour, but it wasn't entirely out of character, so he accepted it. He searched her face for a moment, his own features grave, lit only by a faint glow from the corridor. "All right," he nodded. "I will show you." He offered his hand, which she took, and they stepped through the door.

But when they had walked a few paces, he stopped.

"Wait."

Janeway flinched and tried a very unconvincing limp. But that wasn't it.

"Do you smell that?" They shared an alarmed look. Still holding hands, they broke into a run towards the main staircase.

It was ablaze.