Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Chapter 11: Chakotay
Not for the first time in the last couple of weeks, I find myself staring at the screen of the computer. I am supposed to be writing a report on my latest away mission, but I am unable to concentrate on my work. I briefly consider calling her, but the thought is quickly dismissed as I am not sure what the time is on Earth, and I doubt she would welcome the call... besides, it doesn't seem right with my wife in the next room. I lean back and look up at the ceiling for a while, willing myself to be in any life but this.
I never thought that I would miss her this much, to be honest I never considered that I would ever have to. Although Voyager and the delta quadrant drove us apart, and forced a distance between the two of us, our circumstances also kept us together. We saw each other daily; on the bridge, in the ready room running through reports, at crew events, drinking coffee in the mess and in our quarters for dinner. There was a time that I had wanted more from her, but she offered me friendship instead, and I accepted and cherished what we had. It is only now that I realise I took her for granted.
There were times when I lost my temper with her when she failed to see reason. They were moments when I forgot the tremendous strain she was under; I expected her to be flawless all the time, given the circumstances perhaps that was unreasonable of me.
I failed to give her credit for the grace she handled loss and grief, the compassion she showed even enemies who did not deserve it, and the determination which eventually got the crew home. Instead I was critical that she lead with her emotions and trusted those who had not earned it. I even challenged her dedication to the journey, insisting on more than one occasion that we settle on a planet somewhere.
I do not regret our conflicts, she needed to hear my arguments sometimes; I think it kept her from going too far on more than one occasion. But have I ever acknowledged my lapses in faith? Admitted that I had also been wrong on occasion; the Borg, the Hirogen... Tom Paris... Seven?
The last thought scares me. I remember my reluctance to allow Seven to come aboard Voyager, and Kathryn's insistence to help the lost soul we had found. If she had never made that choice I would not have my wife. We may not have even survived that second half of our journey. This thought also reminds me of my betrayal, and I cannot help my mind drift back to that night.
I had been fast asleep. The sound of my comm. badge chirping a second time brings me back into the waking world as I desperately try to re-orientate myself.
The room is dark with only the starlight coming through the port hole. Something... someone stirs in the bed beside me, startling me for a moment. I am so used to sleeping alone, that the movements of another person send my body into a panic as my heart begins hammering in my chest. Seven is unable to sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time, so she usually slips out of our bed long before I wake up. This is not Seven; her smaller frame is stretched across the mattress, skin brushing softly against mine as she reaches down the side of the bed.
"Bernard to Chakotay." The voice that woke me repeats, and suddenly it all comes flooding back to me. The space station, meeting Kathryn, the hotel room I unintentionally fell asleep in.
My comm. badge is thrust in my hand, and I force myself to be more awake. "Chakotay here," I respond, aware of the lights in the room being activated to emit a soft glow.
"Commander, we have obtained our supplies and should be ready to depart shortly." If the engineer knows anything about where I am and who I am with, his voice does not indicate it.
"Thank you Lieutenant," as I say the words my gaze drifts up to admiring the perfectly cream skin of her back, the alluring curves of her hips and spine, the way her long hair feathers across her shoulder blades. "I am on my way."
I cut communication and reach out a hand towards her, but she stands and quickly pulls a robe around herself before my finger tips have even made contact. I pull back and subconsciously pull the sheets up higher around my waist.
"I'm sorry..." I begin, wanting to explain my need to leave.
"It's fine," Kathryn cuts me off, her head turning slightly so that I can see the profile of her face. "You should go."
I hesitate. I want to offer to stay, to be in a life where I would not need to leave her, ever. But this is not the life we had made for ourselves. We both have commitments, and even as we were in the thrust of making love, it was not without the knowledge that it was a stolen moment we were sharing. A curiosity that could no longer go unexplored, but a one-off event that neither of us could consider repeating.
"The shower?" I ask, feeling slightly embarrassed that I did not bother to examine the layout of the suite before taking her in the bed.
She indicates a door to the far right of the room, and I find myself moving swiftly towards it.
I rush to complete a sonic shower, and a panic sets in at the thought Seven will find out what I have done, and I am forced to be not only quick, but also thorough. When I step out, I see that Kathryn had kindly folded my uniform on the chair beside the bath tub.
I cannot help my mind flashing back to New Earth, where we had shared a shelter for almost two months. I would come in through the front door and discard my jacket and boots on the floor, leaving a trail of clothes all the way to the shower room. When I would emerge, having cleaned a working days grime from my skin, I would find my boots had been put in the rack, my jacket hung up, and my clothes folded neatly on the edge of my bed.
I would be about to thank her, and explain clearing up after myself was next on my to do list, when she would shout from her office area: "you trampled mud through the kitchen again."
Sure enough, when I would look down at the floor, I would see she had left the muddy footprints for me to clean myself. I would chuckle at the thought that she was quite happy to pick up after me, but she drew the line at careless mess, and made no apologies when asking me to clear it.
The first couple of times this happened had been completely accidental, but after a while it became a game. I would see how much of a mess I could make, which she would be willing to take care of. She quickly cottoned on though, and began testing my limits, for example, on how often I would get up to make a cup of coffee for her whenever she asked. It was not until her ninth cup on the second day that I figured out her game. I was in the middle of making the drink when I suddenly realised what she was up to. Deciding to match her effort, I stirred in some milk and sugar into the coffee and presented it to her with a straight face. She did not ask me for another coffee that day.
When I have finished dressing I emerge from the bathroom and walk back into the bedroom. Kathryn is sat on the couch with her computer console on her lap, her eyes transfixed on the screen. She is still in her robe, but I can see she has pulled on a night dress underneath.
"Are we going to talk about what happened?" I ask, remaining in the doorway.
She looks up at me, sinking back into the couch cushions. "I don't think you really have time," her eyes flick to the chronometer.
"What about later?" I ask, "can I call you?"
I know her well enough to recognise when she purposefully ignores my gaze. "Chakotay..." she sighs, finally forcing herself to look at me, "I don't think that would be such a good idea."
I nod, finding myself looking down to examine the polish on my boots for a moment. "I should never have come..."
Kathryn stands from the couch, and crosses quickly over towards me, "don't," she insists. I shoot her a questioning expression and she clarifies, "let's not regret this, or let this come between us. This was... curiosity between two friends... it was a mistake. I don't want it to change anything."
I think we both know this was far more than simple curiosity. Yes, this was selfishness borne out of an unexplored mutual desire, but this was also love, and respect, and compassion. What I also realise now, is this has been inevitable the moment we returned. It was the reason that we distanced ourselves from each other, and have not kept in contact since. I welcomed the distance so I could concentrate on building a connection with Seven, and Kathryn allowed it to protect her former protégé.
She looks up at me now with such a pleading look in her eyes that I feel that I must give her anything, even if I do not agree with it. She is right, this was wrong, and we cannot allow it to change anything, or to hurt anyone else. "Very well," I yield.
Her hand moves to my forearm and she gives it a gentle squeeze to convey her gratitude, before I find myself being escorted from her room. I step out into the corridor and turn back to face her, even in that moment regretting that I am leaving. Although I know she does not want me to, I lean forwards to kiss her goodbye. For a second I think that she will pull away, but she is far too graceful and polite to simply chuck a man from her hotel room in the middle of the night. So to submits to me, and allows me to press my lips to hers, in a bittersweet farewell.
"Goodnight Kathryn," I say softly as pull away.
"Goodnight," she bids me, and waits until I have turned to leave and taken three steps before I hear the doors swish closed behind me.
I cannot help but glance back, perhaps in the hope that she is standing outside the doors to welcome me back, but she is not.
The tap on my office door brings me back into the present moment. I allow her entry, and my wife steps into the space.
"Hi Seven," I offer her a weary smile.
"It's late," she points out.
I have been sat lost in thought for so long that I had not noticed the movement of time. "I hadn't realised," I confess, unable to stifle a yawn at the thought.
"I need to regenerate," she informs me, looking slightly apologetic.
I stand from my desk and step over to her, "I'll see you in the morning then Seven."
She reaches up and tenderly cups my cheek in her palm. She is searching for something in my eyes that I am not sure she will find, so I distract her by pressing my lips to her wrist, covering her hand with my own and entwining our fingers.
We kiss, but it is not passionate or loving, it is familiar and comfortable. Seven pulls back from me, dropping my hand, "goodnight," she bids me, before heading off to her alcove to regenerate.
I watch her leave for a moment, then I head to the bedroom alone. As I go through my bedtime rituals a sudden wave of loneliness overcomes me, a feeling that has been growing increasingly for some time now. Despite being married, there are times now where I feel more isolated that I ever felt on Voyager. Before I met with Kathryn a few weeks ago I was unable to explain why I felt this way, but since that night, the reason why has been becoming increasingly clear. It has now got to the point, where I am unable to avoid the voice at night which screams the reason at me. I am in love with Kathryn, and not with my wife.
