"We need to start on and finish the roof today if at all possible," Chakotay commented, thinking they'd made a poor decision to start the wiring before they'd laid the slabs he was cutting for the roof.
Their day had passed too quickly and the bright yellow afternoon sun was starting to lay way to the oranges and reds of dusk. "It's only two according to the chronometer," she mused, walking over to where he was working. "The roof won't take very long."
"No," he said. "But I have a feeling we should finish it before the day ends."
"Isn't that a little too ambitious?" Kathryn poured some of the water in her canteen down her shirt to keep herself from overheating before she took a sip and let the cool water bathe her insides.
"I don't think so," he motioned to the piles of half logs that he'd cut and measured over the last day and a half. "I just have a feeling we should do it today. The air feels heavier than it usually does – almost like it did before the storm."
Kathryn let her shoulders drop as she looked up at the sky. "You're worried about rain."
"Yes," he nodded, taking a step back from his work and wiping the fat droplets of sweat off with the towel that he'd laid on his workstation. "I don't have to tell you that-"
"Rain and electronics don't mix," Kathryn rued. "You're right." She looked over at the cabin and then to the shuttle. "I'll get back in the shuttle and start placing the logs."
He nodded through a swig of cool water, appreciating the way it felt going down his throat. "It won't take us long."
"No," Kathryn shook her head and turned back towards the shuttle. "We should have thought about this ahead of time."
"We haven't done anything wrong," he conceded. "I'm only worried because of the humidity. We haven't had rain yet and even if it's only another plasma storm, I don't want our work to be ruined."
Kathryn nodded and took one last look at the modest structure before she turned towards the shuttle. Once inside, she drew up the schematics and started inputting her data.
They'd built the cabin with a solid skeleton of heavy beams, each one costing nearly an entire timber. The walls were comprised of thinner cuts, but still sturdy nevertheless. The roof would be composed of long solid slabs layered with one overlapping the other such that any rain or possibly snow would easily slough off of it. The solar panels from the shelter would have to be removed and re-fitted, giving the house an ample and reliable source of energy. But that was work for another day.
The tractor beam had been remarkably useful, Kathryn mused, as she started the shuttle's engines and began the shallow ascent. Once in place hovering over the cabin, she watched as Chakotay positioned the ladder and waited. The first log transferred easily as she tractored it into the air, turned it, and laid it atop the most distal part of the home's skeleton. She watched as he drove long, thick nails, nearly beams themselves, into the wood several times over before moving along the house and securing the heavy pieces together.
In near silence, they worked efficiently over the course of the afternoon until the sun well and truly disappeared behind the evening clouds. With the majority of the roof set, Kathryn the broke silence over the comm. with a yawn, feeling nearly guilty for doing so since he was the one who had done all of the manual labour. "Aren't you tired?" She asked, nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach while she watched him walk up on the roof, surveying what he'd done.
"Exhausted," he replied. "But I wanted to get this finished. I think this is good enough for today."
"I'm going to land the shuttle."
"By all means," this time he yawned.
"I'm nervous about you walking on that roof."
"I'm perfectly fine," he smiled at her worry as he made his way back down to the ladder and began his descent back down to solid ground. "We got more done today than I anticipated."
"Mm," she yawned again and landed the shuttle before powering it down. Her legs had cramped from the rigoured position she'd assumed all day in the chair. It felt good to get out and stretch her legs as she walked towards the cabin as he walked around to meet her.
"What do you think?"
"I think we should look inside," she smiled, taking his hand as she rubbed her eyes.
"Tomorrow I'll make a proper door for us," he said as they passed through the entry way into the home. "It just didn't feel like we needed one when we didn't have a roof. That sounds silly."
"No," she shook her head and squeezed his hand. "Oh, I think I'll sleep well tonight."
"Mmm," this time he was the one who let out a yawn. "It finally feels like a home, don't you think?"
She nodded and led him around the space. "I've never had a home of my own before."
"Neither have I," he agreed, tightening his grasp on her fingers. "At least not one that I built and belonged to me."
The light from the shelter brightened automatically, though dimmer now that Kathryn had taken out half the light consoles from the walls. But it was still enough to shine in through the kitchen windows and dimly illuminated the space. They stood for a while, in the centre of the modest living area, saying nothing as they looked on what their collective efforts had created.
"Mark always wanted to buy a house with me," Kathryn spoke out loud as she let go of his hand and walked through into the bedroom, looking at the space in the half-light. "But I didn't see much point in us buying a home together, not when our lives were the way they were," Kathryn looked out the large window that he'd installed a few days ago. "He kept at me though. 'Kath,' he'd say. 'When are you going to stop chasing the stars and settle down?'"
Chakotay came to stand next to her, close enough so that he could feel the warmth of her body, but not too so that he was touching her. "I just kept running, though," Kathryn put her arms around herself. "I never wanted to settle down. There was so much I wanted to see and experience, and I've done that, I think. I have, but there's such finality to this here – our home. Our home."
"I know," he breathed, once again crestfallen for her; for the fact that he couldn't make her happy.
She turned to him suddenly, tired eyes adamant. "That's not what I meant."
"Kathryn I know you," his eyes plead with her. "I know this is difficult."
She took a step closer to him and put a hand on his arm. "Chakotay," his name was a whisper as she pulled him closer, wrapped herself in him, breathed in the smell of him, familiar to her now after days of long labour. They stood there like that, long enough for the tension in his fatiguedly sore muscles to dissipate as he held her. He started to fall asleep that way, swaying this way and that as tired limbs held him up.
Her deep inhalation against his chest roused him before he felt her tug on his hand and led him out back down the stone steps and across the soft grass, in front of the garden, and back into the their shelter. He followed her without thought, his feet treading on instinct.
She kept her silence as she guided him, past their cluttered workspace and into her partition. He hadn't paid attention to where he was going, too tired to care or speak, he'd simply followed her until she was standing with him in front of her cot. Not bothering with removing any of her clammy clothing, she only slipped off her shoes and moved onto the bed, not letting go of his hand. His lips were too tired to ask her – ask her why she'd brought him here, or tell her he should go, and walk the two paces to his own cot. So instead he simply followed her example, leaving his clothing be as he crawled onto the cramped bed with her.
He noted dimly how they both smelled, and how good it would feel to jump into the river and soap his body with a fragrant bar of soap. But the notion was only fleeting, gone when he felt her wrap her arms around him and hold him close to her body.
Filled with the peace that only Kathryn brought him, Chakotay didn't speak, only tiredly whimpered his satisfaction as she held him close to her and fell asleep just as surely as her head hit the shared pillow.