Note: This edit/rewrite is actually going a bit faster than I thought, so here's another chapter for you. I hope the big reveal isn't a huge disappointment to anyone. And if it is...stay with me. I'll do my best to make it worth your while. :-)

Part 7

"So this is it."

"This is it." Chakotay couldn't take his eyes off Kathryn's pale hands caressing The Falcon's every curve and plane. A glimpse of her slim wrist as she brushed her fingertips across the hood made him shiver.

She rounded the car slowly, taking in every detail with whispered delight, until she stood next to him again. "It's exquisite, Commander."

To hide his reddening face, he reached over and manually rolled the top down. "It's a bit…overdramatic."

Kathryn smiled up at him. "Maybe."

"Kayma calls it 'The Midlife Crisis Mobile.'" Out of the corner of his eye he saw her bite her lip to keep from laughing at him. He frowned. "I know it's a little…out character for me."

She drew back in surprise. "I don't think it is."

"You don't?"

"No. Not at all." She waved a hand at him. "You are very much the product of two cultures, Chakotay. You're equally at home here in the woods, kilometers from your nearest neighbor, or at the helm of a starship with state-of-the-art technology in your hands." She patted The Falcon's hood. "This machine represents both. It bridges the gap between your profession and your private life. It's solid and reliable, like you." She reached over and fingered the sleeve of his civilian jacket. "It's also high-tech and stylish, but at fifty years old, stylish in a classic way."

He rocked back on his heels. "Forty-nine," he corrected.

"What?"

He shrugged. "B'Elanna keeps reminding me that it was 'born' the same year I was. So it's not yet fifty." He fished the starter from his jacket pocket. "It's only forty-nine."

She raised a hand and touched his cheek. Her eyes roamed over his face, bringing his every nerve ending to sudden and sparkling life. "It's in very good shape for its advanced age."

He held his breath. "Thank you," he said, his throat tight.

She stroked his jaw with her fingertips. "I want to ask you a question."

"Anything," he whispered, covering the hand on his cheek with his own. He'd forgotten the way her fingers, so small and fine, always disappeared into his.

She leaned so close to him he could feel her breath on his neck. "Can I drive?"

He closed his eyes and tilted his chin down to her. "No," he replied.

She snatched her hand away. "But I just said-"

He laughed at her outraged expression and opened the passenger door. "I know what you just said, and you still can't drive my car. You can barely keep your eyes open, and I'd like to arrive in Monterey in one piece." He waved to the car's interior. "We're going to have to hurry to get there before the transport station closes. I suggest you put away your indignation and climb inside." He took off his jacket and handed it to her. "You'll want this. It gets chilly with the top down."

With an annoyed little sniff, she snatched the jacket, slid into the car and slammed the door behind her.

It was a good ten minutes before she unknotted her limbs and relaxed, his jacket pulled around her body like a blanket.

The moonless night closed around the car. Tall redwoods and pines loomed over the highway, forming a kind of tunnel ahead of them. Kathryn pointed out three mule deer in the vegetation at the side of the highway. Once, a coyote darted in front of the car and out of sight before Chakotay could even react.

A comfortable silence settled over them both. The background purr of The Falcon's engine felt familiar and right, somehow. They'd spent many silent hours in her Ready Room or quarters, the hum of Voyager's engine hovering at the edges of the quiet.

When the lights of Monterey came into view, Chakotay glanced over just in time to see her eyelids flutter closed. He let the car roll to a halt at the side of the road. The image of her he'd had at the car dealership, her hair flying behind her and her hand resting on his thigh, hovered in his mind's eye. It was a powerful image, and seductive. But the reality before him was so much different…so much better…that for a moment, he couldn't breathe.

For the first time since their early days on Voyager, she had ceded control to him, had placed herself completely in his hands and allowed herself to relax and let go and fall asleep. She must feel safe with him, and cared for.

Watching her sleep, her face serene and vulnerable, he fervently hoped she felt safe and cared for.

Unable to bear the thought of waking her up and breaking the peaceful spell of these stolen moments, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face, pulled the jacket more snugly around her shoulders, and restarted the car. Without letting himself examine the consequences, he pulled back onto the highway and pointed The Falcon toward San Francisco.

=/\=

"I don't want any trouble."

Kayma sat very still in the passenger seat, unsure whether to stay in or get out. She'd heard Harry's gasp when the thin man had stepped toward the car, and his soft, bewildered words: "This is impossible." Harry recognized the stranger and was clearly alarmed at his presence. Kayma leaned forward and tried to get a glimpse of the man, but it was too dark and Harry was standing in the way.

"If you need assistance with your car, I'd be happy to help," Harry continued. "You can put the weapon away."

Weapon? Kayma drew back into the seat. Her eyes darted over the car's interior, looking for signs of a phaser. Surely these Starfleet types never left the house unarmed? But as far as she could see there was no weapon at hand. There was nothing in the car of value at all. So why had the man stopped them? What was he looking for?

"Oh, I don't think I should," the man said in a dark, edgy voice. Kayma frowned. The voice sounded almost familiar. She heard soft footsteps. Harry moved slightly away from the car, keeping himself between the man and her. She understood that he was doing it on purpose in order to keep from giving away her presence and putting her in danger. She shrank further into the seat and held her breath.

"I have no quarrel with you, sir," Harry said. "So if you'll just put the weapon away I'll get back in my car and—"

"Who's your friend?" the voice said.

Cold fear crawled up Kayma's spine.

Harry stilled. "I'm alone," he said.

The thin man laughed. "You're a terrible liar, Ensign Kim. Oh, it's 'Lieutenant' now, isn't it? Congratulations." His voice dropped. "Now get out of the way."

Harry didn't moved. "You stopped me on purpose, didn't you? You were expecting me. Mister…Suder, isn't it?"

The thin man laughed. The sound made Kayma tremble. "Oh, you are a smart one, aren't you?" He paused. "Since you'll be dead in a few minutes anyway, I'll tell you. You're right. Lon was my brother. That monster Chakotay dragged him into the Maquis when he should have been getting help for his psychosis."

"That's not true," Harry said fiercely. "Chakotay didn't want Lon in his cell. Nobody did. Chakotay was afraid of him."

Kayma pulled her knees to her chest and fought back tears. Someone Chakotay feared must be someone dangerous indeed. This brother of his could be capable of anything. She thought about making a run for it, but Suder had a weapon. Leaving the car would surely get one or both of them injured, or worse.

"Chakotay wanted murderers in his cell," Suder scoffed. "That was the whole point of the Maquis, wasn't it? To kill."

"To defend," Harry countered, and in spite of the circumstances, Kayma felt a small swell of pride at his words.

But Suder laughed again. "Lon wasn't defending anything. He just wanted to murder Cardassians. Or whoever he could get his hands on. Chakotay was right to be afraid of him. He should have sent him back to Betazed so we could help him. But he didn't, did he? Then he got my brother stranded with that bitch Janeway, who just left him to die."

Harry took a step toward the man. "Stop it," he ground out. "Just tell me what you want from me or let me be on my way. I had nothing to do with Chakotay's cell and I barely knew Lon."

"Don't you understand, Lieutenant Harry Kim?" Suder sneered. "It's not you I want. It's them. Janeway and Chakotay. I'm going to make them pay for what they did to my brother. Now, get out of the way and let me have her."

He tried to shove Harry aside, but Harry grabbed at the man's weapon. Suder yanked it back, and Harry used the older man's momentum to slam him to the ground. "Take the car!" Harry shouted. "Take the car and get back to Chakotay! Do it now!"

Kayma pushed down her terror and slid into the driver's seat, her gaze darting frantically over the controls. The Falcon was the only car she'd ever driven, and then only the length of the lane in front of the house; this state-of-the-art vehicle was completely unfamiliar to her.

The two men continued to fight for the weapon. "I knew you weren't alone, Harry," Suder taunted. "Why doesn't your brave Captain get out and fight?"

Kayma blanched, realizing that Suder thought she was Kathryn. Once Suder figured out she wasn't who he thought she was, he could very well kill them both. She had to get back to Chakotay and warn him to get to Kathryn, who was surely home in San Francisco by now. She stabbed at the car's controls, trying to ignore the sounds of the struggle outside the car.

Just as she finally located the control that would restart the car, there was a blinding flash of red light, and silence. The phaser had been discharged. She hesitated, waiting for Harry's reassuring voice…but there was nothing.

Fighting back tears of fear and confusion, she reached out slowly to close the car door, hoping that Suder wouldn't react quickly enough to stop her.

It was a miscalculation. The man leapt up and stopped the door with his own body.

"Don't," Suder said, and pressed the phaser to her temple. Kayma looked up and gasped at the sight of his face, his receding hairline, pale, sharp features and glittering black eyes. It was the man from the parking lot the night of the wedding. That's why she'd recognized the voice.

The man started to pull her from the car…and stopped, his weapon still pressed to her temple. "You," he huffed. "You're not supposed to be here." Kayma tried to shrink back from the weapon aimed at her head, but Suder's other hand shot out and grasped a handful of her hair. "She's with him, isn't she?" When she didn't answer, he pulled her hair tighter and gave her head a violent shake. "Isn't she?"

Kayma whimpered and nodded. Suder's sudden smile was almost feral. Kayma tried to pull away from him, but his hold on her hair was too strong. "You're not her," he rasped in his dark, edgy voice, "but you'll do for now."

He yanked her out of the car and shoved her to the ground. The gravel at the side of the highway bit into her cheek, rubbing it raw. With one knee on her back keeping her pinned to the ground, Suder dropped the weapon long enough to bind her hands and feet. She cried out when the sharp edge of the cuffs sliced into her wrists, and Suder laughed again. "Oh, you'll definitely do for now."

He pulled her up and turned her to face away from the car. Harry lay a few meters away, still and silent. Kayma closed her eyes.

Suder shook her. "Look at him," he said. "Look." He seized her face in one hand. She cried out again at the bite of his grasping, grinding fingers. "Open your eyes or I swear I'll kill you, too." When he pressed the phaser to her jaw, she wrenched her eyes open. There was a gaping, burning hole in the middle of Harry's chest. "How does that feel?" Suder murmured, his lips almost brushing her ear. "Let yourself feel it."

Bewildered, terrified, and more alone than she'd felt since her father had died, Kayma began to cry, great, heaving sobs that echoed off the ancient redwoods and into the dark, lonely night.

Suder pressed his cheek to hers. "That's it," he crooned. "That's it."

Minutes passed while she gaped at Harry's mangled body and wept, and Suder pressed against her, catlike. Dimly, she was aware that this was not normal Betazoid behavior. The man must be a touch empath, one who read the emotions of others upon contact. But this reaction, as if he were feeding off her fear, was extreme, even for a touch empath.

But she had very little energy for these clinical thoughts, not with Suder's phaser still pressed to the underside of her jaw. Kayma hoped Harry had known how much she had begun to care for him. She hoped Chakotay and her mother and brothers knew how much she loved them.

Suder finally drew away and pushed her roughly into the back seat of the car. When she was prone, her bound hands pinned between her body and the seat, he placed a gag in her mouth. "Now," he said softly. "Let's go find your precious Kathryn Janeway."

As they sped north on the Old Cabrillo Highway, Kayma hoped more than anything that she would not die alone.

-END Part 7-