In a daze, he floated and pulled his way down to the shuttle bay wondering why he hadn't kissed her. The question was as slick as a velocity disk; no answer would stick to it and the very asking made his mission a thousand times more difficult. He would have turned around and redone that farewell if not for the knowledge that this was Kathryn Janeway. If she had wanted to kiss him, she would have kissed him. End of story.
At least he had planted her gift.
The shuttle bay doors stuck, so he spent a few minutes at the control panel. His desire to return to her blossomed into a tender ache. With each passing second, he became more convinced he should go back. The thought so distracted him that before he knew it, the console had erupted in a shower of sparks. He cursed under his breath and set to work on prying the door open with his hands. If it wouldn't give, he could opt for the Jeffries tubes – or her ready room.
He grunted with frustration and exertion as the heavy portal finally gave way.
The Sacajawea floated ominously inside. Chakotay braced himself against the doorframe and peered up and down the dark corridor, unwilling to commit quite yet. Voyager seemed eerily hushed with so many systems down and most of the crew asleep.
He heard a door swoosh shut from just around the bend, where the turbo lift was. Janeway's voice carried around the corner. "Chakotay!"
His heart leapt into his throat. "Kathryn?" He shoved himself toward her, unable to see her around the curving hallway. He couldn't get to her fast enough.
When she appeared, she wore an expression of blazing determination and desperation. He imagined he looked much the same. "Kathryn," he said again, just to say it, as they pulled themselves together at top speed.
The distance closed and his breath caught at the electricity in her bright eyes. As soon as they were within reach of each other, her outstretched hands dug into the fabric of his uniform and she yanked his mouth down to hers.
The kiss was passionate but frantic, their manic anxiety about the looming mission tainting what should have been a perfect, carefree moment. He felt her arms behind his shoulders, fingers clinging to his neck. His hands fastened to her back and hair and he gave himself up to his feelings, kissing her like she was water and he was dying of thirst. When she moaned into his mouth, as she had when she'd first tried his butternut squash soup, he shuddered with desire. He had known she would moan from the first time he'd shared a meal with her.
He tossed his fantasy of taking her in zero-g aside. This was better. And through it all, their feet didn't touch the ground.
"Torres to the Captain," came B'Elanna's tortured voice.
They broke apart and their foreheads bumped together like magnets. B'Elanna must have heard about Tuvok and the away team. Her pain, although a serious concern, wouldn't last very long if everything went according to plan.
In a fit of daring, Chakotay pulled back a little and tapped Janeway's combadge for her. Her eyes flickered up to his with a grin he hoped would haunt his dreams.
"Janeway here."
"Request permission to be relieved of duty immediately."
"B'Elanna, I'm on my way to engineering. We'll discuss this when I arrive. Janeway out."
"She'll be okay," Chakotay said, still breathing heavily. "I'm glad you came down."
"I am too." She ran a thumb over his stubbly jaw line fondly, a gesture so simple and caring that he wished he could relive it every day. Her eyes followed the motion, then danced up to meet his gaze. She beamed for a second or two, a heart-stopping display of happiness that upended his sense of gravity all over again. She seemed to fight the expression down and compel herself to say, "I have to go, Chakotay."
He tucked a strand of her hair back. "I'm really going to miss this when the timeline resets."
She kissed him sweetly, though her distress burst onto her face once she pulled away. "Have a little faith. Our intrepid Captain has found the right man," she said, her voice serious and low with what sounded like forced control. "And regardless of which timeline she's in, I think we'll find that she's loath," she added a headshake, "To let him go."
He began to panic as the moment ground to a halt. What if she suddenly figured out that he intended to defy her orders? She disentangled herself from his arms without breaking eye contact. In a frenzy, he tried to come up with something meaningful to say. He held onto her arm until she removed his hand herself, and all he could think about was how much he wanted to protect her, how immensely he loved her, and how much this goodbye was going to hurt.
Her last touch: a squeeze to his hand.
Her last look: eyes bright with tears that wouldn't fall, full of profound sadness.
Her last words: a whisper, "You owe me a present."
