Disclaimer: I own nothing. Paramount and TPTB own it all. Yay them.

Comment: This one is LONG!! I'm getting introspective here... I'm not in love with this chapter, but I felt it was time to pay a little more attention to Chak, to clarify their feelings for each other, to begin tying up some loose ends. I *tried* to make it shorter, I really did... you should see the first draft :-)

I haven't seen the whole show, so I don't know what really happened with the Maquis, if they still exist when Voyager arrives home. For the sake of the story, let's just assume they do, ok?

Again, a little wink to my other favorite sci-fi TV-show in the last line. Try a guess, anyone? ;-)

Oh, and try to be patient with the next one. I feel I'll *have* to deal with the Seven situation, and that's going to be TOUGH!!

Review: As always... I couldn't do it without you; I couldn't do it *better*, that is. Tell me what you like, what you don't: style, storyline, characterization, rhythm...
Chapter 10: Of silence and voices (part two)
"Did you know that when Tuvok went to see her he didn't talk to her for two days?"

"What do you mean with 'he didn't talk to her'"?

"I mean he didn't talk. Nothing at all. Not one word."

B'Elanna tried to read amusement in Chakotay's face, some hint that this was a strange joke he and the captain had worked out together. With sudden dismay, she realized that he was serious.

"But why? Why would he go visit her, just to give her the silent treatment? That's - that's cruel! Tuvok wouldn't do that. I mean, *I* thought I was angry with her, but- "

Chakotay laid a hand on hers.

"It's not what you think, B'Elanna. From what she told me, he said it was an ancient ritual."

"Oh, I see, meant no doubt to help somebody make a smooth transition from just plain misery to utter despair."

Chakotay's smile reassured B'Elanna even more than his words.

"Actually, he said it is a ritual of friendship. Vulcans believe in the healing power of silence; it clears the mind, helps to focus. By being silent around someone, you show this person that you value her essence, not what you can get from her. The longer you keep up this 'silent-treatment', the more appreciation and true friendship you show."

"Oh." B'Elanna's initial anger gave way to thoughtfulness.

"But I suspect he made it up."

"What?"

"Tuvok. It sounds very logical and - ritualistic, but how logical is it for Vulcans to have a ritual about friendship. Come on, friendship is not logical, it's about as emotional as you can get! But he *is* her friend, and he knew that she needed that, someone to just be there, not asking any questions, not wanting any explanations. He wanted to remind her that he'd be there for her no matter what, and since he didn't know how to say it, he decided - not to."

"You've given this some thought, haven't you?"

"I have given a lot of things some thought. Including Tuvok. I think I have misjudged him. Kathryn said, after Tuvok left she broke down and cried for the first time after- well, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

A shadow crossed B'Elanna's face, and Chakotay wondered how long it would take her to come to terms with what Kathryn had done to herself. He knew there was still a lot of anger inside her, and two years ago, he was sure she would never have forgiven. But two years ago she didn't have Miral. Miral didn't know about anger, she didn't know about mistakes, about right or wrong, about guilt, missed opportunities, regrets. Every time he saw her look at her daughter, Chakotay could see some of those weights slip from B'Elanna's shoulders. And he knew she would be all right. They all would. If a miracle like beautiful Miral was possible, what wasn't?
After leaving Kathryn that last night, he told B'Elanna, all he longed for was a battle, a fight, anything, any cause would do, as long as he didn't have to be with himself, with that pitiful self who hadn't managed to reach out to this woman standing next to him, to ease her pain, to offer some comfort. She had given him so much: freedom, peace of mind, a center, a balance. Only with her he had known what it was not to be afraid. And how it grieved him not to be able to give any of that back to her!

His mistake, he reflected, had been passivity. When he had first met her, and then, when he got to know her better and finally came to the conclusion that he must love her, he had chosen to just sit back and enjoy this new and wonderful thing he had found. It was so unexpected, so undeserved, it seemed to him, that it didn't occur to him that, instead of lingering discreetly in the back, he could have stepped forward, shown her, told her. Their situation - yes, it was difficult, but he didn't even try to find a way. He always said he would be there for her, no matter what, but right when she needed him most, he let her down. How could he have been so selfish, how could he have been so convinced that it was him who suffered the most, who loved the most?

Then they talked about Chakotay's visit to some old Maquis comrades. He had been prepared for feelings of guilt. After all, he had been wearing a Starfleet uniform for seven years, having once solemnly declared he would never put it on again. Promises were part of what he was, and he expected to feel bad for breaking this one. Secretly, he had even hoped they would convince him to join up with them again. That, it seemed to him, would end all his worries in one clean strike.

The welcome had been friendly enough. They seemed happy to see him, more than ready to accept him back, and to view his wearing of the Starfleet uniform as a necessary evil. As long as he was ready to share his information with them... hell, in his situation, he was almost predestined to be a double agent! And while listening to them, Chakotay felt - not excited, not interested, not revolted... he felt bored. He had heard it all before, he had been here before, but this was not his idea of creating a better world. He knew now that this was not how it was done.

As he spoke, he looked at B'Elanna and saw understanding in her eyes. Rebels, outcasts that they had been, the time on Voyager had changed their sense of justice, of what was right, of what they expected from themselves. For Tom and B'Elanna, it was their family, to see Miral grow up into a person who would know her own worth. For Chakotay, it was loving Kathryn. Simple as that.

When he said goodbye to his former comrades, they knew he was not coming back. They would keep each others secrets and part forever.

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"Did you talk about... plans, you know, the future, what you want to do now?"

Kathryn knew what Phoebe wanted to know: had they talked about *them*, their future *together*, their plans as a *couple*? What was the result of those four days of incessant talk?

Well, when he sat beside her and told her she was beautiful, and his voice was warm again, not thin and tortured like it had been two months ago, her heart had begun to beat so fast and hard she could hardly hear her own words. She didn't know what to expect, but she was sure *something*, anything must happen. When, if not now?

But as the hours passed and the day became a night, and then day again, all that - what he thought about her, if he would touch her, how he looked at her, how often he looked at her - all that grew less and less important, and expectation gave way to a different kind of excitement: the simple, deep pleasure of conversation, of telling old, old stories that seemed so wonderfully new. And while they were telling them, they felt, fresh, renewed - younger, so much younger.

They were not, of course. But, as irrational as it would seem, after all they had been through, both of them were full of a sense of new beginnings, of so many chances and possibilities. And after all the old stories, all the "do you remember when's" and the "you know how it was", they scolded each other for being two sentimental old bags of mush, and then, yes, then they talked about the present - and the future.

Suddenly, after so many painful silences, it seemed there was nothing they could *not* talk about. Kathryn told him about that broken bottle in her dark quarters, and of how she wished there were still marks on her wrists, so she would be reminded every day never to let it come so far again. Chakotay told her about Seven, of how he loved her and didn't want to hurt her. Then Kathryn told about Tom's visit, how horrible and distant she had been, how she couldn't help blaming him for finding her, for seeing what a mess she had made of herself.

When she asked about his plans, Chakotay was surprisingly shy at first. Finally, he confessed: the chief editor of a big publishing company had proposed he should write a book. He had heard a speech he had given at one of those "Welcome Home" receptions, and had liked his style. The book could be about whatever he wanted, his childhood, Starfleet Academy, the Maquis, or something completely different; the only condition was that it had to have at least one chapter, about thirty pages, about Voyager in it. And all while dismissing the idea as utterly absurd ("me? a book? well, of all the silly things...!"), he had sat down to write, and had found himself five days later with a manuscript of fifty-odd pages, and *much* more to say.
----- "So I figure I'll write the book, then I'll show it to you and - well, everyone, B'Elanna, Tom, Harry... and then I'll see about actually publishing it. The way I see it now, it's more like - a gift, a way to give back *some* of what I got from them... from you."

After a small pause, in which Kathryn tried not to blush, he continued: "It's an amazing feeling, Kathryn, I - I wish I could describe it... I didn't know I had all these words inside me, and that just writing them down could make me so happy!"

Kathryn smiled. Seeing him happy made her happy. He was still talking in "when's" and "if's", but it was already "my editor", "my book". And, though unexpected, the idea of Chakotay being a writer did seem very appropriate. He had always been at least as much a poet as a warrior.

Her own plans where less glamorous, and it took some doing on Chakotay's part to finally get her to talk about them. They consisted it asking Starfleet Command for a quite post on earth, for the time being. She knew she was going to want to be in space again sooner or later, but she had learned her lesson. No need to rush into anything, no need for any irreversible decisions. For once, she was willing to do what her doctor told her and take it easy for a while.

A very short while, no doubt, Chakotay had reflected with a mixture of amusement and worry. Given a quiet, easy job, Kathryn Janeway was one to quickly succeed in transforming it into something difficult and challenging. No amount of harsh lessons and good advice would ever change that. But, she had made it clear that she would be on earth. They would both be on earth. -----
"We talked almost nonstop for four days, Phoebe, we talked about everything, about everyone, about things I thought I wasn't ready to share with anyone... and you know which was the only word we never used, not once?"

"Which?"

"'We'. We never once used the word 'we'. It was always, 'I'll do that, you'll do this, do you remember when he or she...' Never 'we'."

"Maybe you didn't need to say it. Maybe it was there all the time anyway, and you thought that saying it out loud would... I don't know, spoil it."

Kathryn looked at her sister and noticed that she could actually see her face. She felt a warmth on her cheek and turned to the window.

"Well, look at that", she said. "The sun's coming up."