Disclaimer: If you don't understand the point of these yet, I can't help you . . .





Under other circumstances, it might have been funny. The ship wasn't shaking too hard at all -more like a jerky vibration- and it caused both of them to wobble around like they'd had too much to drink, even making Chakotay trip once, at which point she had laughed. What wasn't funny was that it never stopped. There had been a ceaseless rattle throughout the ship for almost two hours now, and it was starting to make her nerves go numb . . . namely those in her left leg.

She was seated in her chair on the bridge again, not really wanting to try and stand with Chakotay watching her like a hawk to see that she wouldn't fall. She was a grown woman, and she didn't need his babysitting. She was sitting at an angle in the chair, trying not to be shaken out of it by placing most of her weight on her left hip, which, in tandem with the shuddering ship, was making her leg go numb.

Many years of living in space had taught her stomach to deal with the occasional vagrancies of gravity, momentum et al, and it was managing quite of its own accord not to turn itself inside out. She was glad that they had cleaned up the Mess Hall before, or there would have been a monumental mess -leaving the room true to its name.

Chewing on her lower lip, she fiddled with the command console, making sure that all this disturbance wasn't working pieces of the ship loose. She also shifted her position slightly, trying to relieve the uncomfortable pressure on her sciatic nerve. She grimaced as the feeling slowly returned.

Chakotay, who was sitting beside her like he always did, was reading a data padd. He looked up from it and at her. He had ESP or something. He wasn't even looking at her, yet he still managed to know when she made a face. Uncanny man.

"Something wrong?" he asked solicitously.

"No, my leg's just asleep," she said, trying to keep her voice level despite the ship.

He smiled a little. "Maybe you should try walking it off."

She gave him a cross look. "So I can fall on my behind and make a fool of myself for your benefit? I think not."

"Well, if you ever had the inclination to make a fool of yourself, now's the time. You know I won't tell anyone about it." He grinned openly now, looking at her through the corner of his eye.

His smile was positively subverting, and she wondered if he didn't know that full well and use it to his advantage. He used it on her at suspiciously regular intervals, and far too effectively for her comfort. Whatever quirk in his genes gave him those dimples should have been classified as dangerous to the mental stability of any woman around him. She was certainly proof of that, even if she bore such near personal mutiny with more fortitude than others.

"You'll tell me about it, and that's quite enough. I am not here for your amusement, Commander."

"But you do such a good job of it. Twentieth century romance novels indeed . . ."

An eyebrow climbed. "Indeed. Maybe I should go get one of them and read a part to you and we'll see who gets the last laugh around here."

He cast a startled look at her, and then another slow grin slowly spread across his face. "Sounds like a win-win situation to me, especially if it's one of the . . . good parts."

She gaped at him in turn. Brazen man! It wasn't that her sensibilities were that delicate, she read those books after all . . . but he was . . . well, he was usually more reserved than that. All this solitude was softening their minds more than a little, or at least hers. "Mister Chakotay, contain yourself!" she said, though finding it hard to be completely serious when he was grinning at her like that. That was the sort of look that made her forget that her ship might be being rattled to pieces. She was too rattled on her own. She was aware that she was blushing somewhat.

"It's hard to take you seriously when the ship is making your voice shake," he said in reply, "but your complaint has been duly noted."

"I should hope so," she said, as straitlaced an expression on her face as she could manage at that point, which wasn't saying much at all. The command console beeped, and both their hands went darting for it like they always did. Since she was the Captain, she got precedence no matter how fast he was. At least she knew she'd always win on that. She turned the screen toward her, reading.

"What happened?" he asked as she scanned it with her eyes.

"I think the anomaly has moved out of deck fifteen. The internal sensors noticed a change in how the ship was moving down there."

"That change being . . .?"

"It's not shaking like the rest of the ship."

"Will that cause any problems with structural integrity?" he asked.

"It isn't yet . . . I'm not reading any crew down there." Well, had she really expected to? It wasn't like anomalies were going to play fair just because she wanted it that way.

He shrugged. "Maybe we'll have to wait until the whole ship is free, or maybe until we are. Do you think the differential will cause any problems when it passes through the warp core?"

"Well, it didn't when it dropped on us, and all the systems on deck fifteen are fine . . . albeit to our perceptions barely doing anything at all." She leaned back in her chair, pushing the shaking console around so he could read it himself. "I have a feeling nothing's going to change down there for a long time."

"Nothing up here either," Chakotay stated. "I wish the ship would stop shaking though."

"I agree," she declared emphatically, preparing to rise from her chair. "I am going to the ready room to replicate something to eat. Do you want anything?"

His expression was ambiguous as he tried to hold the console screen still so he could read it. Finally, he nodded. "I'll come with you . . . do you have any rations anyhow, Kathryn?"

She attempted to rise from her seat, on leg still half asleep and both shaking with the ship. "Yes, it's a new week, after all."

"So it is," he agreed, rising unsteadily. "Do you need any help?" he asked as she wobbled across the bridge.

She looked back at him briefly, and then put her concentration back into getting one foot put before the other without falling. "Like you're in any position to help anyhow," she muttered, taking wide steps in order to prevent being unbalanced. It was harder with the limp she had acquired.

And suddenly, the shivering of the ship stopped.

She stood up a little straighter, looking at the consoles nearest to her. They didn't explain anything, but she wasn't going to protest if Voyager felt like giving them a break.

"Well, this is a relief," she said, turning towards Chakotay. "I wonder if-"

She never got to finish the question. The ship gave a heave not unlike the one it had the night before during dinner. She was pitched with full force to the floor, only having enough time to get her hands in front of her. Barely missing hitting her head on the rail, she hit the floor with a thud, opting to stay down until the ship stopped its newest assault.

It ceased as quickly as it had started, and she scrambled to her knees. Looking over at Chakotay who was rising to his feet with a bewildered expression on his face, she rose also, rubbing sore palms together.

"Let's hope it doesn't do that to us too often," she muttered. "Are you all right?" she asked him as he straightened his uniform.

"Fine," he replied. "Are you?"

"Sure, but I still want lunch. Come on."

"Never let a mere jolt deter Kathryn Janeway from her goals," he said, his tone faintly amused.

"Amen," she quipped, starting for the ready room door again. "Especially when it involves me doing something you nag me about, hmm?"

"Absolutely."

Her goal at the moment was to make it to the ready room without being flung across the bridge, and immediately thereafter to get a sandwich. Another coffee wouldn't have done any harm either. And she was going to go while the going was good, since the ship was likely to start shaking again sometime soon.

The ready room had become her unofficial living space more than once in the past years. She'd even fallen asleep there a few times, and the room was so familiar she could have found her way to and through it even if the ship had been pitch black. Chakotay was often a near-permanent fixture in there himself, whether delivering a report, trying to talk her in or out of something or just there for what seemed like the hell of it. She didn't mind that in the least, so long as she could reserve the right to kick him out when the mood took her.

She entered and went directly to the replicator, procuring an egg salad sandwich in short order. That was another blessing. The replicators were working. If they hadn't been, neither one of them were likely to eat for the duration of their little dilemma, or at least she wouldn't have.

"Do you want anything?" she asked, turning towards Chakotay, who stood somewhat behind her by her desk.

"No, thank you."

Ah, this was one of those "for the hell of it" times.

She went to sit on the couch, gesturing for him to join her. They sat like that often, usually with her either staring off into space or reading a data padd. This time she had a sandwich, but it was all the same. She found herself contemplating that. What did make it the same? Every day there was something different to talk about, but each time they would both sit, and he would watch her stare into space or read the padd or in this instance eat part of her sandwich. . . .

That was it. His eyes. They were always basically the same, watching her with that quiet intensity he always possessed. It was so familiar, yet slightly uncomfortable . . . because she knew he saved that exact look for her and no one else.

The ship gave a small shudder.

Chakotay broke his gaze and looked around. "It'll probably start again pretty soon."

She nodded. "I just hope too many things don't get broken in the process."

"As long as the ship holds out, we should be fine."

"I wish the crew on deck fifteen had turned up. I suppose I didn't really expect them to, though. Chakotay, did you hit your head back there?" she demanded suddenly, noticing a dark contusion forming right at his hairline. He should have told her that when she asked if he was all right! Of course all that boxing had made him a bit more tolerant to hits in the head than most, but she couldn't have him covering that sort of thing up.

He shrugged, reaching up to touch the new bruise. "I guess. It's all right though."

She frowned at him. "Well, at least you didn't cut yourself. I'll get a dermal regenerator and see if we can't fix that," she muttered, rising to go to the replicator once again.

"I don't need it," he stated.

"Too late," she replied as the instrument appeared. She came over to him with it, and sat back down. "Next time, tell me when you get hurt." Making him turn his head, she ran the regenerator over the swelling bruise, which started disappearing immediately as the broken capillaries were mended.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied quietly.

Their faces were inches from each other, she watching his minor injury disappear and he very obviously trying to find a safe place for his eyes. She almost smiled at his discomfort. He deserved it for the novel comment. Satisfied that the contusion was healed and that he had been sufficiently punished for not telling her about it, she sat back down, giving a nod.

"That ought to do it," she said, placing the dermal regenerator on the table.

He swallowed. "Thank you," he said. "And the crew will come back."

"Your optimism is appreciated," she said, retrieving her unfinished sandwich. "But I'm afraid that I can't share it."

"I think Tuvok has become a bad influence," he said, rather obliquely.

"Hardly. I'm just considering all possibilities."

"And dwelling on the bad ones."

"Maybe. It doesn't matter. I'm just in a strange mood today," she replied, taking a bite of her sandwich.

"I noticed," he said gently.

She nearly choked for a moment, and then regained her composure. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That I noticed that you're in an odd mood today. It honestly wouldn't take an empath to see it, and I'd like to think I know you relatively well."

She laughed mirthlessly. "That's part of the problem. You do."

"Then I'm probably right when I think I know what's bothering you."

She fought not to blush. "Possibly, possibly not. The fact that you're pressing the issue isn't helping."

"Who said I was? And why can't I press the issue, assuming we're talking about the same thing?"

She shouldn't have let the conversation turn this way! The minute she let her guard down, only the slightest bit, he was there trying to get her to say things that she did not want to talk about! It had only been this morning, but why couldn't he just let it drop and save them both all the trouble?

"And if we are," she said between clenched teeth, "who's to say that I'm going to talk about it?"

"Well nobody," he replied, "but we'll never get it out of the way, now will we?"

She frowned at him, setting her plate down with deliberate care, holding his eyes with a glare. She folded her hands in her lap. "Well, what do you want out of the way?" she asked.

"I want to know why you always feel the need to hide from me when things get tense. Do you think it's any easier for me than it is for you?" he demanded.

No, she didn't think it was easy for him either. What wasn't easy was maintaining a command structure when one's relationship with one's second-in-command was in question. The rules had been written for a reason, even though hers were far more stringent than anything Star Fleet ever came up with. Where was the line?

And were they an exception, due to location? She'd bent other protocols -more important protocols- pretty effectively before, why not this? Because it would change things, compromise her command, their friendship, the crew's respect . . . or would it? Was she so afraid of that change?

What was so inherently wrong about the idea? She had been alone a long time, and she was hardly made of stone . . . ice, maybe, but not stone. It bothered her to have it hanging over them . . . first the attraction, the friendship and . . . what? It would bother her more if one day that love she saw in his eyes every day was gone.

But were they only setting themselves up for a fall?

"What you want to know," she said slowly, "is what scares me? Am I right?"

He nodded wordlessly.

"What scares me, Chakotay . . . is losing what I already have. To wake up and find you gone; to wake up and find you there; to find out one day that you don't love me; to find out that you do . . . do you see that?"

He smiled gently at her, and she nearly lost her resolve to conduct herself like she was in control. "I can't say much about the first two things. That all depends on circumstance, but what I can tell you-"

She put her fingers on his mouth, shutting him up. "You don't get it. I'm not sure I want to know what you can say about it. That's the problem. That and protocol."

He took her hand in his. "To hell with protocol. Honestly, Kathryn. To hell with it. That's the last thing we should worry about."

She turned her eyes to the view port, watching a cloud of solar plasma drift by the ship, obscuring the stars beyond. "Where's my crew?" she demanded softly, drawing her hand out of his. "Nothing matters if we don't find them."

"They will be back. I hardly think our ridiculously good luck would give up on us now. They're probably stuck out in some temporal limbo, waiting to catch up with us. It's probably happened before."

She smiled slightly. "I'm sure if I went mucking around in the Enterprise's endless reports I'd find something like this. When I studied all that at the academy, I was pretty sure no one would ever see anything that at least one Enterprise hadn't seen. The Caretaker chose to prove me wrong."

"I think the Enterprise got pulled all the way out of the galaxy once."

"But they at least got pulled back. That happened for a benign reason."

"The caretaker wasn't really out to cause trouble . . ."

She shot him a sour look. "Probably not, but can we agree that he did?"

He nodded emphatically. "Oh definitely, but it's not all bad."

"No, I suppose not."

The ship shivered again, various things in the ready room rattling at the disturbance. She grabbed her empty plate quickly before it fell to the floor as the shocks intensified.

Chakotay looked around, wincing slightly. "I think it's working itself up to something a little bigger this time."

The ship continued to shudder almost violently, steadily getting worse. Kathryn had to fight slightly to stay seated as the shaking continued to intensify. She doubted they could get to the bridge now, even if they had to.

The computer called an automatic Red Alert, the klaxons sounding.

"Warning. Structural integrity on deck fourteen has been compromised."

Deck fifteen wasn't moving with the ship, and was causing stress on the structure above it. She should have seen this coming when the sensors had first reported the condition of that deck. What would happen if the ship was shaking like this when the anomaly was moving by the warp core?

They had to go to the bridge.



To be continued . . .

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