Chapter 9

The questions were always the same: "Admiral, how are you adjusting to life back on the ground?", "Admiral, why have you chosen to give up spaceflight?" "Admiral, will you ever go back into space?", "Admiral, can you confirm the rumour..."

Usually the rumours involved her with whoever the latest celebrity the press had decided she would be "simply perfect for". Kathryn guessed she should be flatted that they thought she was worthy of all these incredibly glamourous, good looking, and often very intelligent, men (and the occasional woman) they named. Of course, the rumours were always false.

Well, almost always false. Perhaps there was one a little more accurate than the others.

She tried not to dwell on the idea that she might have stretched the truth when she'd put the rumours of a romance between her and Chakotay down so firmly.

This evening's questions were the same as always. But she was struggling to summon her usual patience with them. Her attention was far away at the other side of the room where her former first officer stood chatting to her mother, quietly and alone.

What were they talking about. Was it just her imagination or were her ears burning?

"Admiral... admiral...admiral...," the young male reporter was trying desperately to pull her attention back to him. She'd phased out for a moment there. Smiling widely, she tried to make up for her rudeness and concentrate on his question.

"I apologise, I just saw someone I must talk to, but I have time for one more question..."

The young man blushed as she smiled at him. Did she do that?

"Of course, Admiral, I'm grateful for your time. My last question is: 'What difference do you think the addition of extra counselling services will make to Starfleet personnel?' "

That rare beast; a question she not only wanted to answer but also an intelligent one. She should have paid attention to this reporter's name.

As she gave a full (and hopefully charming) answer, carefully ensuring to namecheck Seven and her mother and trying not to wince while saying either of the names, she thought about how to tackle what had happened in the rose garden.

She was in some ways elated. He said he loved her. But she was also scared. It was too soon. He was still such a mess. And she still hadn't told him what she needed to. That she loved him, but that the feelings pre-dated his marriage. How was she ever going to do that? He thought he felt guilty. He had no idea.

And even if they did both love each other, could it ever work with so much baggage behind them? And how would everyone else react?

No, the more she thought about it, the worse an idea this was. But could she resist him? She saw him every day, how would she not fall into his arms every time he smiled at her?

She was just finishing up with the reporter, who also wanted a picture of her standing next to him for some unfathomable reason, when a familiar hand clapped the young man on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, I'm afraid I must cut in," the smooth voice said, his brown eyes boring down into Kathryn's. "Admiral, I believe it's time for the dancing to begin and your mother asked for us to start things off..."

"Of course," Kathryn said, touching the young reporter on the arm and noticing him blush for the second time. "Do excuse us. Mr Chakotay," she held her hand out for Chakotay to take. he grabbed it and swung her around to face the dancefloor, coming up behind her and grabbing her waist with his other hand.

As they walked, he leant down and whispered into her ear: "That poor boy. You had him all flustered."

Kathryn looked up at him, perplexed, earning her a smile and laugh from Chakotay: "You really have no idea how amazing you look tonight, do you?"

She looked down at her apparel. The ridiculously high shoes were, she supposed, quite elegant. She didn't hate the midnight blue, satin dress, but it wasn't anything particularly unusual for her these days, low at the back, with a split from the floor to mid-thigh. She wore this sort of stuff most weekends now, all in the bid to show she had a "soft side" as the PR gurus called it. They were always worried she seemed "too stern" with her neat haircuts and starched uniforms. Personally, she didn't understand the need for all the fuss, but she was assured by everyone else it was a necessity now she was an "official celebrity" as her sister called it.

Her flummoxed look simply earned her another laugh as Chakotay spun her round to pose before they kicked off the dancing.

Kathryn could feel his hand searing through the satin at her hip as she looked up at him while waiting for the music to start. It was a fast foxtrot, thank goodness, she didn't know what she'd have done had it been a waltz. Far too romantic this evening. it needed to be something that allowed her to talk to him, rather than get caught up in.

But it was halfway through the song before she uttered a word, hopelessly distracted by the feeling of him leading her around the floor. It was wonderful not to have to think, not to have to plan where they were headed. The power he held over her was intoxicating. He called the shots on the dance floor and she loved it.

"Chakotay," he smiled gently at her, bringing his attention completely to her face, rather than looking around the room as he had been doing. "Will you be coming back to the house with us tonight?"

She didn't really know what to expect from his answer.

"I said to your mom I would, but if you want me to head back to the city, I can..." She could tell he didn't want that.

"I think it'd be good if you came back. We need to talk, Chakotay. And without the press around us. What we did, escaping to the garden like that was dangerous,. God knows who could have heard us."

A shadow passed over his eyes. She immediately felt guilty.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad we did, but we've got a lot more to say to each other, and I don't want an audience." he was obviously satisfied with that answer, pulling her closer to him again, while avoiding another couple who were struggling with the quick steps of the dance.

"I completely understand that," he said, speaking the words into the top of her head. "I'll do whatever you need. Trust me, I'll do whatever you want when it comes to this. I just want a chance with you."

kathryn thought she couple hear her heart physically break at the sound of his voice as he said it. He really meant it.

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Kathryn's mother hadn't come back to the house with them and B'Elanna, Tom and Miral had headed back to their own home.

It seemed rather convenient that Admiral Paris and his wife had invited Gretchen back to theirs for the night so they could head to whatever breakfast appointment they had together the next day, but Kathryn wasn't complaining. An empty house was just what they needed.

As soon as she and Chakotay stepped over the threshold, Kathryn took off her shoes and threw them at the basket of shoes kept next to the door: "I am so pleased to see the back of those!"

He laughed: "they suited the outfit perfectly, but I can imagine they were torture to wear."

"You almost sound like you have experience wearing heels, Chakotay," Kathryn teased him.

"I do, actually," he said, earning him a Janeway stare, hands on her hips and eyebrow raised. "it's a long story," he lifted his arms as if to say he'd tell her another time. "Tea?"

"Would it be awful if I said I'd rather a gin?"

It was his turn to raise his eyebrows: "Not at all, a gin it is."

He headed to the kitchen to prepare their drinks. From scratch, of course. No replicators for Gretchen.

Kathryn padded along barefoot behind him, picking up the long train of her dress as she went and marvelling at how handsome he looked without his jacket and his white dress shirt undone at the neck, tie hanging loosely around his shoulders.

She sat up at the kitchen counter, on one of the high wooden stools, he turned around to face her with two glasses, picking up the bottle of gin and tipping it in, giving her a look: "say when". She allowed him to pour a very generous measure before putting her hand over his to stop him. he suddenly jerked his hand up, spilling a little of the liquor on the counter.

Was he nervous?

Surely not, it had been such a great evening, almost as if they were back on Voyager. After the high emotion in the garden and their first dance, both of them had settled into the easy friendship Kathryn valued so much. Had it suddenly got weird again?

He'd wiped up the spill and finished pouring his drink and the tonic before he settled down on the stool next to hers and took off his own shoes with a sigh.

"Computer," Kathryn called, "music, jazz, low volume."

It was the one concession Gretchen had to make in the house in terms of technology. If she wanted climate control and integrated communications, she had to have a central computer.

Chakotay smiled up at her shyly as the music started and he took a sip of his drink.

"Thanks. I don't think I could handle any more classical tonight," he was referencing the dance music form the evening. It had been rather earnest, reflecting the age of the charity supporters her mother had been targeting that night.

She paused, and decided to plunge in. Waiting wasn't going to make this conversation any easier.

"Chakotay. What you said tonight, I can't imagine how hard that was for you."

"It wasn't," he acknowledged, "but it needed to be said. And I really meant it, Kathryn." he rushed on, trying to get more in before she said anything else.

"I completely understand if you don't feel the same way, but I can't keep going without telling you the truth. I hid something important from you once before and you were, quite rightly furious. I can't risk that again; you mean too much to me for me to risk that."

She put her hand over his, which were nursing his drink and looked into his eyes.

"I guess it's an evening for confessions," she said, trying to appear and sound more brave than she felt. "Last night, when you stopped me before I could tell you what I needed to," he hung his head a little, looking embarrassed and started to open his mouth to reply. It was her turn to put her fingers to his mouth. "Shush, you'll get your say in a minute. My turn now, " she said firmly, but kindly. If she didn't get this out now, she never would.

"Last night, what I never got to tell you was that I had been hiding something from you for some time." He looked intrigued.

"I don't think either of us were in any doubt of our feelings for each other on New Earth," she smiled at him and he joined her, looking almost bashful as they both remembered the heat of the passion between them on the planet. No, there was certainly no doubt of their feelings then. "But what I've never said is that my feelings for you never abated. I've felt that way ever since."

She paused a moment not looking at him, focusing instead on his hands, trying to regain composure. That had been very hard to say and she didn't want to cry before she finished.

"I always thought that when we got back to Earth... well, it doesn't really matter what I thought then. When I found out about you and Seven. When you told me you thought it was time to move on with your life, I knew I had to try and stop the feelings. And I tried. I really did."

Despite herself, a lone tear was rolling down her cheek. But she didn't dare wipe it away, for fear more would follow if she acknowledged it.

"When you got married, I was truly happy for you. I remember reading a poem from a Betazoid writer some years ago which basically said you were happy for your friends, even if their wishes are not your own, becasue you love them and their happiness is what matters. It's not an original thought, I know, but it struck a chord with me. I spent the whole of the time you were on honeymoon re-reading the poem."

She heard him gasp and looked up into his face. He looked shocked.

"Eventually I realised the only way to get over it was to move on, so I started to date a littel and threw myself into work. It was a tonic, I gradually managed to tamp down what I felt until it was firmly at the back of my mind. I'm sure you've guessed after eight years, I'm pretty good at that."

She heard him laugh, tears obviously at the back of his throat at her "joke", as unfunny as it was. She was looking at his hands again.

"And then I got the call. It changed everything. I just knew I needed to be there for you. As your friend. As hers. God knows, I knew what that knock on the door was like. I can remember the numbness, the shock. And Justin wasn't even my husband. I can't imagine what it was like..."

He suddenly let go of the glass he'd been nursing and grabbed her hands.

"Kathryn. Stop... You don't need to explain. But I need to know. Is there anything left?"

"Left," she asked, not understanding.

"For me. Do you still feel anything? Or did it change for you, once I married?"

She hung her head. She felt so guilty.

"Yes, there's still something left, more than something. That's what I need to tell you. I never stopped loving you. I never stopped," she started to sob. "I betrayed her. I betrayed you."