After the third attempt to ring Chakotay in his quarters, Janeway used a security override. Both women entered the dark room.
"Lights, one third illumination." said Janeway.
The commander, who was sitting in the dark, became visible. He was face down on his table, naked from the waist up, his bear arms and shoulders covered the table's surface. His com-badge and wet shirt were on the floor near where B'Elanna was standing.
Janeway and B'Elanna exchanged an uneasy glance. The captain whispered, "Maybe now is not a good time."
But B'Elanna held her arm. "You aren't going to chicken out now."
Walking over to the table, B'Elanna knocked on its surface as though she was playing tough. But at the same time, she subtly touched his wrist to check for a pulse.
She jolted when Chakotay grabbed her wrist and jerked his head up. "I'm not dead yet, Bel. But the computer could have confirmed that, so what do you want?"
"Just concerned. Were you sleeping?"
"Sleep assumes rest. No, that was not restful. I'm sorry for snapping at you. I should thank you for saving me from the Hades of my own subconscious."
"That is exactly what we came to do."
"We?" Chakotay looked from B'Elanna to the entrance to his quarters, and, saw Kathryn standing in the shadows. "Captain? Uh, excuse me. Please both of you sit down. I'll be a minute."
Chakotay rose from the table to go to his bedroom, and change out of the pants that were wet up to his knees.
B'Elanna called after him, "Been swimming?"
"I rinsed off in a stream after a run through a rain forest. I was tired and got more wet than I meant to."
Torres and the captain seated themselves at the table.
Chakotay came back in a pair of loose navy pants. He slipped a matching shirt over his shoulders. Fastening it with a single clip above his hip, the fabric hung loosely. He addressed the captain, "You didn't want me to go anywhere? Did you?"
"No, not at all… we were just hoping you wouldn't mind a little company."
He stopped and considered her words. Damn women never say what they mean! "Well, Captain, if this is a social visit, I'm not…"
"It's not." The captain cut him off flatly.
"I see," he said curtly, standing with his hands behind his back in a Starfleet 'at ease' position. Reluctant to sit down and engage in whatever she had in mind, he cocked his head, and waited politely for a better explanation.
In a crisp official voice, the captain continued, "Commander, if we had a ship's counselor, I would order you to see him. But since we don't and you need to talk to someone, we are volunteering. If you want to do it the Maquis way and yell and throw things, I'm sure B'Elanna can speak your language. But might I suggest trying the Starfleet way, or the old Starfleet way, before the days of ship's counselors."
Janeway pulled a bottle out of a black satchel, which had gone unnoticed until now, and set it on the table. The contents of the bottle shone a bright blue in the dim light. Kathryn Janeway was not one prone to substance abuse; but she was a pragmatic woman, and some conversations needed bigger ice breakers than others.
"What…" B'Elanna gasped under her breath.
Still standing with his hands behind his back, Chakotay appraised Kathryn carefully. He shook his head and cracked a two dimple smile. This by the book Captain, a.k.a pool shark, never ceased to surprise him. She was so Starfleet, yet so much more. So she wanted him to talk… he shrugged and decided to comply.
"I hadn't thought of that." Chakotay grabbed a few glasses and joined them at the table. Flipping his chair around and straddling it, he reached over and tousled B'Elanna's hair. "You see Bel, in Starfleet there is the book and then there are the traditions."
Puzzled Torres looked from one commanding officer to the other, conscious that she was the only one in uniform, "And Romulan Ale is… a Starfleet tradition?"
Janeway laughed. "Let me explain. In the early days of Starfleet there was the strictest of regulations regarding alcohol, it was synthohol only. It was new then and most of the officer's hated it. While the lower ranks generally developed a taste for whatever 'real' substances they could find on shore leave, a number of captains and senior officers developed a taste for Romulan ale. Its contraband, I know. But it became the habit of a number of these officers to keep a case in their private possession for special occasions. These captains eventually became admirals and, from time to time discreetly gave the younger captains a departure gift for long missions. In that tradition, I received a gift of Romulan ale before departing from Deep Space Nine. I prefer synthoholic wine, so I saw no reason to open it until now."
Watching Chakotay pour the blue fluid into three glasses, B'Elanna shook her head, "Some tradition, it seems so un-Starfleet."
Chakotay swirled blue fluid in his glass. "Starfleet isn't all policies and protocol. You must know that by now." Addressing the need for the icebreaker, he added, "I'm amazed she didn't find it."
"With Suder sabotaging the ship, she mustn't have had time to sift through my personal items."
Chakotay observed her calm manner. Her ship, her quarters, her ready room, taken over by Seska! To see Kathryn Janeway so violated by the likes of Seska, triggered intense self-loathing. Giving the fluid one more swirl in the cup, Chakotay looked Janeway in the eye, put it to his lips, and downed the contents.
"You want me to talk. I'll talk." Pouring another glass, he lifted it to toast.
B'Elanna, uncomfortable with the familiarity, tried for an early exit. "Um, Captain, I don't think you'll be needing me. But Chakotay, before we came here I told the Captain some things…about Seska. You know, in the beginning. I thought it would help."
He swallowed hard, his jaw locked, and he glared at B'Elanna.
Bravely B'Elanna, put a hand on Chakotay's arm leans forward and says, "But it's the captain you need to talk to."
Janeway watched the exchange, seeing the hardness in his eyes she interjected in a soft command tone, "Lieutenant, wait. You are correct in assuming that we need to talk about Seska alone. She has been a point of tension in our working relationship from day one, but before you go, I want you to tell Chakotay what you told me about Seska's objectives."
Sighing, B'Elanna slumped back into her seat and rubbed her face with both her hands. Refocusing on her senior officers, B'Elanna lifted the glass of ale in front of her. "To Seska, the best damn Cardassian operative in the Delta Quadrant!"
"And may she be the last," said Kathryn emphatically as she raised her glass.
"I'll drink to that." Chakotay clinked his glass against theirs.
He drank a second glassful, clunked it on the table, stood up and turned his chair the right way around. Sitting down again, he rolled his shoulders back and stretched his legs out to a very manly position. Hooking one arm over the back of the chair and resting the other on his leg, he faced B'Elanna. "Let's hear it."
Kathryn, watched him closely and realized, on a conscious level, just how loud his body language is. 'Remarkable,' she thought, 'how long has he been speaking to me with his shoulders?'