AUTHOR'S NOTES: C/7? No way! This is a graceful way out of the mess TPTB have gotten themselves into. I wrote this over a year ago, shortly after Endgame aired. I typed it up a few months ago and now - with the internet down at work - I finally have an excuse to get it ready for posting. I can't believe it took me over a year to post this. As a matter of fact, I can't believe haven't written any fanfic in over a year. Real life can be so cruel at times.

He Never Looked At Me That Way

by Elisabeth Cook (allegretto@gmx.net)

A simple glance across my shoulder is all it takes. Not for long, a minute maybe. Two at the most. Just long enough to catch him looking at her and I find myself asking the same question over and over again. What on earth was I thinking?

He doesn't know I'm watching, of course. I'm standing at the engineering console, fine tuning the ablative armor. They're sitting in their usual places, backs turned toward me, facing the viewscreen. Well, she's facing the viewscreen, he's watching her. He probably doesn't remember I'm still here, and even if he did, it wouldn't matter. I have never been known to indulge in such irrelevant activities as daydreaming, especially when there's work to be done. Pointless. Inefficient. A waste of time and mental resources. There was no reason to expect that I, of all the people present on the bridge, was sneaking glances at them whenever I could.

And yet I can't keep my mind from wandering. Turning around just long enough to catch him sneak a glance at her is enough for me to know: he's never looked at me that way. I don't need to see his face to know of the play of emotions in his eyes. I have seen it before, I and I have heard other crewmembers mention it. I just never understood, not until now. Amazement, adoration. Dedication followed by longing and finally chased away by resignation.

His shoulders sag just the tiniest bit, not noticeable for most people who are watching, those who don't know him as well as I have come to know him. He looks away and I quickly turn around, busying myself with the console, trying to complete an equation I don't even remember keying in.

How on earth had I ended up in this situation anyway? What was I doing in a relationship with a man I didn't love? I had gone to the Doctor, in hopes that removing the fail-safe device in my cortical node would allow my feelings for him to intensify. Instead it only served to confirm what I already had suspected. A realization I had so carefully tucked away in a far corner of my mind. I didn't love him.

Oh, it had been easy to lead myself to believe I was in love. The comfort of human touch, the excitement of a sweet secret shared by only the two of us. Sneaking into his quarters at night, kissing behind closed doors, stealing a hug when nobody was around, and my hormones had been set free to rage, if only for a short time. Just a chemical imbalance, nothing more.

No matter how hard I tried, everything we did had a slight touch of awkwardness to it. Somehow I always felt a little incomplete when I should have been fulfilled. It was the same emptiness I felt in my holographic recreation of Voyager. At that point, I blamed it on the photons and forcefields. No wonder my feelings weren't complete, after all, it wasn't the real thing.

When reality failed to remedy the situation, I blamed my Borg implants. Again, I was proven wrong. Maybe that damn hologram is the source of all of my problems after all. My usual, efficient self, I put a lot of thought into choosing Chakotay as my holographic love interest. First of all, I was attracted to him. A handsome, well built specimen, intellectually challenging.

Definitely not the only one who fit into that category. More importantly, however, he was the second highest ranking officer on the ship, he was old enough to be my father, he had never shown any romantic interest in me and I had heard the rumors about him and the Captain. In short, he was off limits and out of reach. Built-in safeties, so to speak. I didn't want to spoil any future relationship, however minute the likelihood of it developing, neither did I want to end up in a situation like the one I ended up in anyway.

Then, when he asked me out on a date, he caught me completely off guard. With one simple question and a flash of his dimples he had ridiculed my careful calculations and disengaged my safeties. "You must be hungry. Care for dinner?" Seven words and I found myself in uncharted territory. I still don't know which demon had possessed me to accept. I had played this scenario countless times. In the safety of my mind and on the holodeck. Detached from reality, a purely hypothetical scenario. Maybe I skipped back into the old routines, letting reality and fantasy mesh for only a short moment - unfortunately a pivotal one.

I spent the remainder of the day unable to procure a coherent thought. Later I realized that where I should have felt giddiness, I only felt confusion; where I should have been bouncing off the walls in excitement, I aimlessly wandered through the corridors, ever so often, when nobody was around, stopping in a quiet corner to ask the computer to freeze the program. When I finally concluded that I was neither hallucinating nor a victim of Tom's and Harry's practical jokes, I also reached the conclusion that my decision to accept had been wrong.

However, instead of rational thinking, curiosity took over. I was itching to find out just how far we'd actually take this. Where would my new-found humanity take me? How far could I push myself? How far would he follow? How far would I be willing to follow him? Like child stumbling across the proverbial hidden cookie jar, I was tempted not by the actual contents but rather the touch of the forbidden. Off limits and out of reach - and yet the answer to all of those questions lay at my fingertips. All I had to do was reach out to find out.

All of this simply a scientific experiment run haywire? If it only were that simple.

A movement at the center of the bridge catches my attention and whisks me back into the present. From the corner of my eye, I see Janeway handing him a PADD. Probably the department reports, I decide as I watch him reluctantly scroll through its contents. Janeway, just as reluctantly, turns away and busies herself with the console embedded between their seats. There is a certain fondness to her lingering gaze. I've seen it in here eyes before, I just never understood. Not until now. A realization dawns on me: I never looked at him that way. Never did and never will.

When she looks up again to find his eyes glued to the PADD despite his initial resentment, the corners of her mouth pull up into a knowing smile. For a while, she just continues to watch, oblivious to the people around them and the fact that they might be watching, too. These days, seeing her smile is a rare occurrence, and Chakotay seems to be the only one who can still make her laugh.

Her eyes glisten with anticipation when she leans forward and suddenly whisks the PADD from his hands in one swift motion. Her smile broadens into a grin and she leans forward to ask him something. She clearly seems to be enjoying this friendly teasing. Only now I begin to realize how much this must mean to her.

Her reaction to his response comes sudden and completely unexpected. Her eyes cloud over and she quickly turns away to stare at the viewscreen, as if avoiding to ever look at him again. Her hand shakes as she returns the PADD.

With a start, I remember that we scheduled our sixth date for tonight and it doesn't take much now to figure out what this exchange was all about. Her shoulders sag visibly while her gaze remains directed straight ahead. I doesn't take an empath to know what she's feeling. The border of fluidic space or another woman, it's all the same. The realization that you've just lost the love of your life forever comes suddenly and it's almost too painful to bear.

The realization I come to is just as sharp and crystal clear. If I don't put an end to this now, I'm not only going to break one heart, but two. I glance over to Chakotay. He's so lost in thought, I doubt the full extent of what just happened already registered with his brain.

Not that I made it easy for him, of course, he still thinks I'm in love with him. I realized pretty quickly that he didn't return my feelings, although he's still careful not to show it. He'll probably never admit it, unless I push him, he is too intent to keep me from suffering the same fate as his: facing a lifetime of unreturned feelings.

Maybe we could have made it work - maybe we'd still be able to make it work. Hypothetically speaking, of course. I know too much about temporal mechanics and I've learned enough about the full scale of human emotions to try to predict the future. And yet there is one thing I am absolutely certain of: I could never walk into a future where so much could be lost and yet so little could be gained. How could I ever go on with my life, knowing what I'm about to do to the two people who shaped me into the person I am now; who put their lives on the line for me countless times? I've come so far with their help - only to turn against them now, after four long years taking advantage of the trust they placed in me?

I just hope I still have the chance to end this gracefully, allowing us to salvage the shattered remains of our friendship and dignity. I just hope it will be early enough to repair the damage already done and to allow the wounds to heal.

I already tried this once, but I was too much of a coward to tell the truth. When he finally met my eyes, demanding an explanation why I suddenly wanted to end our relationship, I couldn't go on. Instead, I hinted at possible consequences in an unlikely future - all the time knowing this was the last thing to make him change his mind.

I can't make that same mistake again, I don't have the luxury of time to waste, I can't allow myself to chicken out again, now that I know this isn't just between the two of us anymore.

With surprise I suddenly realize that alpha shift ended over ten minutes ago. At the stations around me I find new faces, only Janeway and Chakotay are still occupying their seats. With a sigh, I turn my console over to a young Ensign - I'm in no condition to finish this delicate task of calibrating the armor.

Walking over to the turbolift, I try to come up with the perfect way of telling him. I'm so lost in thought I don't even notice the person stepping in after me. When I do look up, it's already too late. The doors have already slit shut, effectively blocking my only route of escape. Chakotay. I should have known. It's now or never, I realize. Fate can be cruel - no need to wait, but also no time to plan ahead. No more hiding. No more partial truths. I draw in a couple of deep breaths and fore myself to look him right into the eye. And I find myself looking straight into his soul - and into a mirror of my own. Turmoil, yet determination. The surprise of what I see renders me speechless, and yet without either of us having uttered a single word, he nods in understanding. "It wouldn't be right."

"No, it wouldn't," I hear myself answering as the lift comes to a halt. The doors swoosh open, he walks away and I know: It's not too late. We can still repair the damage and correct our mistakes. In fact, we all might have been given a second chance. I can only hope that I'm not the only one to realize that in time.

~~ the end ~~