Benchmarks
by Joan Powers
Summary: Captain Janeway has been irritable and withdrawn for weeks. And she doesn't understand why. Will a stop on a new planet provide answers for her? Janeway/Chakotay
Genre: Angst, romance
Timeline: Season 7ish. Cannon? What's cannon? 😊
Rating: T
A/N: My friend Tracy, always tells me the point of fanfiction is to fix. I adore space shows but never watched Voyager with any regularity when it originally aired. My friends were excited about the potential Janeway/Chakotay pairing. After watching Voyager over the past few months on H&I, I think this is one of the better pairings of all the Trek shows.
Thanks to Tracy for her helpful advice and SuzJ1 for inspiration from her story, Symbols.
Delicious waves of tension escalated within her body. Face flushed, she moaned, arching her back into the sheets and biting her lip in anticipation. Her breathing grew ragged as her heart pounded faster and faster. Just when the moment of glorious release was about to arrive, she woke up.
"Damnit!"
Frustrated, Janeway pounded her fist into one of her pillows and then threw the other across the room, knocking over a lamp. This had been happening entirely too frequently.
This wasn't normal for her. She'd never had such blatantly sexual dreams. Dreams that felt so incredibly real. She could close her eyes and still feel the heat from his taut abs pressed against her stomach. Her arms wrapped tightly about his muscular shoulders. His mouth hungrily searching for hers. If she inhaled deeply, his musky scent lingered.
It was absolutely ridiculous.
She wasn't some randy teenager, awash in hormones.
What was her problem?
She stumbled out of bed and stomped into the bathroom, noting the dark smudges beneath her reddened eyes and her rat's nest of tangled auburn hair. She looked like hell. Which was exactly how she felt. She stepped into the shower, hoping the hot water would be invigorating.
While the steamy shower felt pleasant, it couldn't alleviate the enormous knot of tension residing in her shoulders or the burning sensation growing in her gut. She blatantly ignored the unrelieved tension provided by her dream.
She kept mentally reviewing the past few weeks, trying to figure out what had changed. Why she could no longer sleep. Why she felt so irritated with everyone. Why she sometimes felt as if she were losing her mind.
And in some moments, why she felt so despondent.
It wasn't as if some traumatic event had occurred. The past month, traveling through this region of space had been routine. No hostile aliens. No supply shortages. No major engineering emergencies. No squabbles amongst the crew.
She stepped out of the shower, toweling dry, then took two tablets for her perpetual headache, even though the Doctor had warned her that could cause more issues with her stomach.
She'd experimented with multiple variables to assist with falling asleep. Soothing music, warm bathes, piping hot herbal teas, melatonin to help regulate her circadian rhythms. After determining that there was nothing medically wrong with her, she'd humored the Doctor with his recommendation to plant hypnotic suggestions in her mind. She'd even tried cutting out caffeine entirely but found it too difficult to function during the day without it
Becoming more desperate, she'd started exercising vigorously with the intention of wearing herself out physically. Her knuckles were covered with bruises from pummeling the punching bag in the gym. She punished herself, running miles on the treadmill, and on holodeck obstacle courses. She rappelled on hazardous holographic mountains. Yet even though she was exhausted when her body contacted the mattress, she lay starring at the ceiling of her quarters, night after night.
Occasionally she gave up the pretense of trying to sleep and prowled about the ship, searching for something to do. Anything to distract her or occupy her mind. After a few of these evenings, Tuvok had reported to her that the crew didn't care for this. They felt that she was checking up on them and didn't trust them to do their jobs properly. Then she found other projects to unsuccessfully dabble in – painting, reading (though it was clearly impossible for her to concentrate), organizing the growing Delta Quadrant planet data base.
Even when she was able to fall asleep, then there were the dreams to contend with.
If sleeping with the man in her dreams would alleviate her suffering, she was tempted to just do it, to make them stop. She even briefly considered a VR encounter with a life-like facsimile. She quickly brushed aside those thoughts, suspecting that would only exacerbate her suffering and have the added bonus of making daily interaction with the man who shared the bridge with her, unbearably awkward. Even now, just being in his proximity after one of those dreams, set her on edge.
As maddening as the idiotic sex dreams were, they were preferrable compared to the other darker ones that occurred more frequently. She was alone, on some damp, dark planet. The terrain was rocky, and fog obscured the sky such that she could barely see her hand stretched out in front of her. Her body was being buffeted by a strong howling wind.
In the dream, she was frantic. She urgently had to find…someone. Or was it something? Or was she trying to escape? It was hard to tell. As she stumbled about the uneven terrain, some nights she thought she heard a faint cry. Whenever she raced in that general direction, she never found anything. She woke up feeling utterly hopeless and a deep sense of sorrow.
Why was this happening?
Why did she feel like she was falling apart?
It was disheartening that after six years, their progress to the Alpha Quadrant was so maddeningly slow. Would the majority of her life span be spent on Voyager?
Okay, she was making some progress. She was battling with the usual demons: guilt about making the decision that brought her crew into this impossible situation. And her inability to bring them home. It was a familiar battle that haunted her.
Though, this was nothing new. She'd been managing this before.
What had changed?
She used to confide in Chakotay. She valued his opinion and as a fellow commander, he'd experienced many of these issues. Even though he could be exasperating, she enjoyed the fact that, unlike her subordinates, he wasn't afraid to openly challenge her. She looked forward to their weekly dinners in her quarters where they talked and shared family recipes. Discussions about routine ship matters easily led to other shared interests and an enjoyable evening.
Unfortunately, at their most recent dinner, when they'd moved to sit on her couch, something had happened. She wasn't sure who had made what move but they ended up sitting next to each other, with her head resting against Chakotay's shoulder. She'd justified it at the time, it had been lovely. But later she became frightened. She wasn't ready to flaunt Star Fleet Regulations. She felt terrible that she was sending Chakotay mixed signals.
As a result, in the past weeks, she'd backed off from him, cancelling their standing dinner date. She sensed his growing frustration with her inability to commit to developing a more intimate relationship with him. She'd seen the flash of pain in his brown eyes before he masked his disappointment after she didn't allow him to ask more probing questions about her health. He needed something from her that she might never be able to give. She convinced herself she was being kind by not leading him on with false promises.
She trusted Tuvok with her life, having worked with him for years. And she had equally high regard for the rest of her crew members. But it wasn't professional to discuss her weaknesses or doubts with them. She couldn't tell them that she was discouraged about their ability to reach Earth before they turned old and gray. It just wasn't done.
In that moment, she realized that other than performing routine ship business, she hadn't had a meaningful conversation in weeks. Probably because her brain was fried due to lack of sleep. It was all she could do to function as captain. She assured herself that she just needed to get some sleep to get back on track.
She'd put off reporting to sickbay again, concerned the Doctor would confine her to quarters and relief her of her duties. It sounded like a death sentence. Yet she found herself there later that day.
After examining her and again ruling out any obvious physical issues, the Doctor proclaimed. "Your cortisol levels are off the charts. You need to look into stress relief options."
"Such as?" Janeway was already tunning him out. What new did he have to offer?
"Medication. To help you sleep."
"No"
Being trapped in that stifling dark world and unable to wake up? No. She could feel herself breaking into a cold sweat at the thought. She couldn't bear it.
"Exercise?"
Impatient, Janeway explained everything that she'd previously tried.
"What about psychological counseling? I am fully equipped." The Doctor boasted.
With his bedside manner? Even with his recent improvements, Janeway rejected the suggestion.
"Sexual activity can be good for releasing tension."
"No."
She was in full command mode now. She was not having this conversation.
"How about a massage? I am programmed to execute several types. It might help with the tension in your shoulders."
She agreed to try it, though she worried that physical contact might remind her of the other dreams.
Of course, after leaving the med bay, she ran into Chakotay on her way to the bridge, nearly colliding with him in the hall.
"Hey. You look tired."
That was an understatement. She hated that her arm tingled from where it had accidently brushed against his chest.
"Bad night."
Why did he have to stand so close to her? After having those dreams about him, it was hard to maintain eye contact.
"I should warn you. The crew want to throw you a surprise birthday party."
She sighed. She should be touched by this thoughtful gesture. But she had no desire to celebrate her birthday.
"It might be good for morale." He suggested.
Other than, hell no, how could she convey that this wasn't what she wanted? She knew the crew meant well. That they were all worried about her. She'd heard them whispering as she trudged down the corridors. She could see Chakotay's obvious concern. Yet he continued to respect her boundaries.
"No." More gently she added. "I'm not feeling up to it."
"Need to take some time off?"
"No."
He wasn't enjoying her monosyllabic responses.
"We just received a communication from a colony asking for our assistance. They've experienced some severe weather and they need help fixing drainage issues, doing building repairs and addressing some technical concerns. You interested?" he asked.
Now that sounded like something that she could sink her teeth into. She could always concentrate better when engrossed in a project. This sounded like a marvelous distraction. And a chance to interact and assist another species.
XXXX
Chakotay sighed as Janeway strode down the corridor. It was apparent that she was hurting. It was tearing him apart. Every time they seemed to grow closer, she'd pull back. He fully understood her concerns with Star Fleet regulations. He respected that. He was a man of strong convictions. Yet at the same time, he had fallen completely in love with her, entranced by her beauty, intellect, and courage. Even her stubbornness.
It was a cycle that was becoming unbearably painful. He'd give her space. Over time, the distance between them would start to close. Then they'd get too close for her comfort, and he was back in Siberia.
He was a patient man, yet he was frustrated. It was agonizing to see her this way, bleary-eyed and struggling to concentrate. He longed to hold her and protect her. To help shoulder those heavy burdens of leadership. To let her know that he was completely there for her. Didn't she understand that part of love was helping each other? Being there for each other? As it was, he did his best to assist her with efficiently running the ship, often taking on extra tasks without her knowledge, to lighten her workload.
He understood that she'd gotten scared the other night in her quarters. She'd sat on the couch and leaned towards him, resting her head against his shoulder. They'd sat that way and talked for over two hours. She liked it, she seemed very comfortable. She'd been so close to him that he could smell her peach-scented shampoo. If this had been any other woman, he would've stroked her auburn hair and lightly kissed her temple then moved towards her lips. It would've been a natural progression. It would've been so easy to kiss her. Yet he understood this relationship had to be on her terms. Since it was Kathryn, he merely enjoyed her company.
Of course, the next day she cut him out of her life.
Maybe the cycle would continue and the next time she felt comfortable getting closer, she might be ready to make changes.
But who was he kidding? Almost seven years had already passed. How long could he wait? He was a patient man, but he craved more. He needed more.
Some of the crew recognized his feelings for Kathryn. Occasional they'd tease him about it. There were times he was ready to throttle Tom Paris. Yet Chakotay knew when to ignore the teasing and when to threaten the brig for Paris. However, he would never tolerate anyone teasing or talking badly about the captain.
It cut him to the core that she wouldn't let him in emotionally. That she didn't understand that these were unusual circumstances where regulations didn't necessarily count as much. That no one would care if they broke regulations. At least, no one on the crew would. He'd always been a man to follow his passions, his heart. Still, he admired Kathryn's devotion to Star Fleet – it was an integral part of her.
As much as he loved her, as much as he knew that she was the only woman for him, he had to accept the fact that their relationship might never happen. That she might choose her career over him. That she might never become his Kathryn.
Could he handle that?
He could only wait so long.
Perhaps a change of scenery would be good for him too.
XXXXX
Janeway wiped her filthy hands on her equally grimy trousers. She was pleased she'd had the foresight to change out of her uniform before joining one of the work details to repair the irrigation system for Ceti prime colony. Digging ditches, slogging through layers of damp, heavy mud, dragging logs into place then securing them with metal clasps. Lugging dense sandbags to pile up to serve as flood water barriers. It was hard, dirty work. Her muscles ached but she was enjoying it. Unrecycled air and authentic sunshine were enhancing her mood as well.
The colony of three years had been well established before the storms hit. Massive winds had torn apart half of their solar grid and damaged multiple structures. A deluge of rain had overpowered the irrigation system, flooding crops and nearby areas. Tom and B'lanna were assisting with the repair of solar panels and getting the power system back on-line, while Chakotay volunteered with assessing the farm damage. Other Voyager crew members were spread about, assisting as they could, while the majority remained aboard the ship, enjoying relaxed duties.
Captain Janeway was pleasantly surprised that her work detail was primarily composed of colony women who were not intimidated by a physical challenge. Their species, the Romaca, with their dark almond shaped eyes, defined brow ridges, sturdy athletic frames and muscular features was familiar to her, having encountered their home world several years ago.
They were a friendly people who tended to gesticulate broadly with their hands when they spoke. Their concept of personal space was a bit maddening. They loved to hug people and kiss them on both cheeks when greeting them. Hospitality was an integral part of their culture. Even though many of their homes and apartment buildings had been destroyed, they insisted that the Voyager crew stay at the settlement and take meals with them. To deny them would be considered an egregious insult.
Crew members of another ship had also joined the repair efforts. In contrast to the towering, sturdy, dark complected Romacans, the Langolians tended to be pale with almost white hair and slight frames. Though this was no reflection on their ability to assist with repairs.
After Janeway and two other women successfully dragged the final log into place, creating a flood water barrier, Osa, the tallest Romacan woman with a lush mane of dark hair, startled her, nearly giving her a bear hug in celebration of their accomplishment.
The four women in her group talked constantly as they worked. Thankfully it didn't detract from their effectiveness. Janeway was shocked by intimate nature of their conversations. She didn't want to know about the sex life of Eleni, the young Langolian captain. Or the problems Rayna, another Romacan woman was having disciplining her toddler. The fourth woman complained about her boyfriend's cluelessness regarding committing to their relationship.
The captain smirked. Even though they were hundreds of thousands of light years away from home, and the Romacans and Langolians species differed in subtle ways from humans, people were still people.
She was pleased that they didn't force her to join in their conversation as they worked. However, it would've been considered extremely rude of her to simply ignore their discussion, so she made her best efforts to smile and nod encouragement in the right places, even though her heart wasn't completely into it.
The women's boots crunched along the gravel path back to the center of town. They planned to take a short lunch break. They passed several fields where people wadded through murky knee-high water towards the remaining plants, trying to salvage what they could from the damaged stalks.
In the distance, she spotted Chakotay near a raised plant bed by a green house. He was talking with an attractive young blonde, who was presumably a member of the Langolian crew. They were laughing. Then she saw him reach over to brush a smudge of dirt off her cheek.
The intimacy of the action bothered her. But he was allowed to fraternize. She had no claim on him.
Towards the end of the day, when the second round of work was completed, the women on her work crew insisted on celebrating with drinks and food. Janeway tried to politely decline but they weren't hearing it.
After freshening up in her room and changing into a clean Star Fleet uniform, she strolled through the village, passing one of several large tents where food was being prepared and served. The tantalizing aroma of barbequed meat filled the air, causing her mouth to water. She was actually feeling hungry, that had to be good sign.
She waved to Tom and B'Lanna who were seated at a large oak table, chatting intently with several Romacan engineers. On the far side of the plaza, she noticed Chakotay sharing a table with the blonde woman that she seen him with earlier. She seemed quite taken with him.
Her stomach churned as she joined her group at a different table. She was warmly greeted with uncomfortable hugs and kisses to her cheeks. She tried to suppress her instinct to flinch. Pulling up her chair to the table, she immediately felt the intense gaze of all four women.
Oh God.
She'd read this situation wrong. She'd been ambushed. She hadn't flown under the radar during the day as she'd hoped. All these women had noticed how awful she looked. And now it appeared that she was becoming their pet project. She fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to think of any excuse to leave.
Maybe she could pretend she was suddenly sick to her stomach. It wasn't that much of a stretch. Anything to avoid the third degree from well-meaning strangers. These weren't her crewmen who would obey orders without question. She'd heard them chatting all day – they were clearly not going to respect her boundaries. However, she didn't want to create an incident by offending their native hosts.
A large platter of roasted meat that resembled turkey legs, along with several wooden bowls filled with leafy vegetables covered the table. The women helped themselves to food while Osa produced a fancy decanter of a tawny colored liquor and generously filled their glasses.
The women toasted to the spirit of friendship and cooperation. Janeway downed half of her glass, wincing as the alcohol burned, rushing down her throat. She'd forgotten how potent Romacan spirits were.
Osa insisted. "Tell us more about yourself, Janeway. Tell us about your family."
She wasn't in the mood to chat. Yet, since she genuinely liked these women and respected all that they had accomplished at Ceti Prime, she put forth her best effort.
"I'm Captain of the Star Ship Voyager. The crew of over one hundred fifty people are my family."
"You have a mate and children, yes?" Rayna, the young Romacan woman with shiny ringlets of dark black hair and kind indigo eyes, asked eagerly. Family and intergenerational relationships were everything to their people. Over the course of the day, Janeway had heard these women discussing their mates and offspring in intimate detail.
Janeway selected her words carefully. "Not at the moment."
Eleni, the petite Langolian woman bluntly insisted. "Then when? Earlier today you said your vessel was thousands of light years from your home. What are you waiting for? Why are you putting your life on hold?"
"I don't need a man to define who I am."
If Janeway hadn't been so exhausted, she might've argued the point more eloquently as she had on many occasions in the past. She firmly believed she didn't need a man or family to make her complete. Or to make her happy.
Yet from the glimpse she had today into the lives of these women, she suspected their cultures, though less technologically advanced, were equally elevated. All these women had shown understanding of engineering principles as they'd conducted repairs. None of them were simply following instructions. They didn't let the males of their species push them around or make decisions for them.
Diplomatic Osa was on the governing board of Ceti Colony and even shy Rayna coordinated childcare for the entire colony. Lovelorn Merit was gaining experience, assisting with the farming, with the hopes of starting her own, and Eleni was a starship captain.
If she'd been feeling more like herself, Janeway would've told them that she'd wanted to be a star ship captain all her life. It was her dream. Her passion. She loved the challenges of interacting with new cultures and exploring undiscovered worlds. She cherished her job and had made many sacrifices to become a Star Fleet Captain. She loved being a part of Star Fleet and would never do anything to jeopardize it.
"Of course not. None of us do. But don't you want one? What about your emotional needs? We all need someone we can share with." Merit asked.
She'd been complaining about her prospective mate's lack of commitment to their relationship. However, she hadn't been pining or depressed. She'd made a plan and if her clueless boyfriend didn't figure things out in time, she was moving on without him.
Eleni stubbornly stuck to one theme, her voice becoming shriller. "You're waiting to live your live until you get home?"
"I never said that." Janeway insisted, feeling ganged up on.
Eleni continued to needle her. "What if it takes ten years? Twenty years? Forty years?"
Osa intervened, taking charge as a natural leader. "Sorry, Janeway. We're just thinking about what makes us happy. Men, children, sex, job opportunities. You might not need a man, but it's obvious that you're not happy. What's wrong?"
Trying to buy time, Janeway took another sip of her drink.
"I'm not sad."
How pathetic. That didn't even sound convincing to her. Maybe it was the alcohol hitting her. Her plate remained full of food. She'd lost her appetite.
She'd accepted the fact that there'd be sacrifices along the way to becoming a Star Fleet Officer. With regret, she'd put her fiancée off, thinking there'd be time. But it wasn't meant to be.
"I just can't sleep."
"Have sex. That always works for me." Eleni claimed.
Janeway ignored her, wondering if all Langolians were as outspoken as Eleni who claimed to have a husband and three young kids on her starship, along with three other lovers. It sounded absurd. Like Peyton Place in the stars. A complete nightmare.
"What makes you happy?" Osa asked again.
XXXX
Weaving slightly, Janeway made her way back towards the rooming house where she was staying. She'd managed to move the food around her plate enough to avoid offending her hosts. With limited sustenance in her stomach, the Romacan spirits were hitting her harder than she'd expected. She hugged her arms to her chest, rubbing her shoulders, trying to keep warm. With the sun setting, it was getting significantly cooler. She was relieved to escape the prying questions of the women who insisted on offering her unsolicited advice.
And it would all start again tomorrow, for they insisted that their group work together again.
She skirted the well-lit, populated area of the square where others were gathered, eating, drinking, talking, some dancing, others laughing. It was a festive atmosphere that she didn't feel a part of.
That heavy sinking feeling was hitting her again. She chided herself, she shouldn't have had so much to drink. But she wasn't drunk. It was just enough of an alcoholic haze to enhance her sense of misery.
What was wrong with her?
Nothing had changed. She was still facing the same issues as she had in the past six months when she was doing fine.
Why did she feel so empty?
It was infuriating that her thoughts kept circling.
Finally, she reluctantly acknowledged the obvious. Six more months had passed. With no changes.
What makes you happy?
Despite Eleni's badgering, she knew she didn't need a man to make her complete.
As she walked back to her room, taking a longer route to avoid interacting with others, she turned the question around in her mind.
She loved her job. She honestly did. But for some reason, she wasn't happy. Clearly it wasn't enough anymore.
Was she making excuses as Eleni had claimed? Putting off actually living her life? Using the fear of breaking regulations to avoid intimacy? Chakotay sometimes teased her about the number of times they'd already broken Star Fleet regulations while in the Delta quadrant, his brown eyes flashing, daring her to challenge the status quo.
Maybe it was the dire nature of their situation? Being so isolated, so far away from home. Although Voyager was a fairly large ship, it was still the same people all the time. It could get claustrophobic.
It was possible.
Regardless, something was wrong. The vivid sex dreams. The terrifying void of the other dreams. The burning in her gut. The sleepless nights. As much as she told herself she was managing well, she wasn't anymore.
Something needed to change.
She reluctantly thought back to Chakotay and his date. They seemed to be connecting.
That hurt.
But what right did she have to be jealous? He'd indirectly expressed his intentions to her. He hadn't played any games. She'd rebuffed his advances many times, it was logical that he would move on and play the field. It was his right. It was only natural that he would want to enjoy female companionship. And what better place to do this? In fact, it was a courtesy to her for him not to pursue a relationship with someone on the ship where it would be in her face.
She'd never directly denied her interest in him. She couldn't. That would be a lie. Yet she'd clearly conveyed to him that a relationship just wasn't something she could handle. Star Fleet's rules were ironclad. Enjoying his company didn't seem worth damaging her career.
It had never been that she didn't care about him.
Because she did.
He showed her day after day that he cared about her. He'd bring her coffee. He'd volunteer to perform the tasks that she hated. He always noticed when she was tired or frustrated. Even when they disagreed on command decisions, he had her back. She didn't realize how much that had meant to her, how much that she had counted on it. How much she had accepted that unconditional love, until being confronted with the very real prospect of him courting another woman.
Maybe the Romacan women were right. Maybe six years and counting were too long to remain alone. Not that she couldn't survive without a romantic partner. She didn't need Chakotay. But she wanted him. She missed his companionship. His wry sense of humor. His gentle emotional support. She longed for the opportunity to know him more intimately. To continue to let down the guard of command. Suppressing those desires over the years was starting to take a toll on her.
Was it time to take a chance? To bend regulations and embrace an emotionally richer life?
Then she panicked. What was she thinking?
She couldn't risk Star Fleet's censure. Imagine the utter humiliation. For all to know that she'd had a liaison with a member of her crew. She'd worked so hard to build her career.
Losing all that she had accomplished. Losing the respect of her colleagues.
Was it worth all this?
However, at the rate they were traveling, she could be sixty-years old by the time they returned to Earth. No one she esteemed would be left to care about her actions in the Delta Quadrant.
If Chakotay hadn't been on Voyager, she might not be feeling this way. She might be sad for lack of a relationship but not tortured by the fact that an attractive man loved her. And that she had very strong feelings for him too yet felt that she couldn't act on them. It was a conundrum that she despised. The more she suppressed those feeling, the deader she felt inside.
She found herself paused in front of the door to a room. She'd been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings. But it wasn't her room. Her feet had brought her to Chakotay's room instead.
What was she thinking? She wasn't an impulsive person. This was a bad idea. She didn't have a plan. She'd just moved instinctually.
What was she doing there?
Her face grew hot. She felt like a fool. She remembered the charming young Langolian he was dining with earlier. She cautiously put her head closer to the wooden door, half afraid of what she might hear. Was she in Chakotay's room? She'd seem them exchanging smiles at dinner. She hated how pathetic she felt.
She remained still, listening.
And then she heard it.
A faint lilting female laugh.
She bolted without thought as to where she was going. Anywhere away from this. Avoiding others, she moved at a strenuous pace, escaping the confines of the settlement. She found herself halting in a cove near a small waterfall towards the western end of Ceti Prime.
Away from the lights of the settlement, only the stars and moons illuminated the sky. Other than the cascading water, it was peaceful. She shivered, burrowed her freezing hands beneath her uniform jacket to warm them. The temperature had dropped significantly, she could see her breath before her. If she'd been using her head, she would've stopped by her room for a heavier jacket. Or she could've just returned to her room. But she wasn't thinking logically. Hell, she wasn't thinking at all.
Chakotay would like this place. He always appreciated the peace of nature. In fact, he'd suggested listening to a recording of falling rain to soothe her, to help her sleep.
She was ashamed that she felt so out of control.
She sank to the ground, sitting on a broad rock. Her body began to shudder from both cold and deep sorrow welling up within her.
What was wrong with her?
Voyager wasn't even a quarter of the way home. She was losing Chakotay. And… She pulled her knees up to her chest, hiding her face against them as deep sobs wracked her body.
Did she honestly expect him to wait on her indefinitely? They'd already known each other six years. He had needs too. In the past month, she barely been civil to him. He had no reason to pine forever. What did she think was going to happen when she treated him so poorly?
What do you need?
For so long she'd sublimated or ignored her emotional needs, thinking them a distraction. She was the captain. Emotions were a luxury that she didn't have time to wallow in. It was her job to take care of her ship and her crew. They had to be her highest priority.
But even a parent can't take care of a child if they don't care for their own needs.
As she sobbed, she acknowledged what her heart longed for.
It had never been just about sex. She loved him. She loved his warm laugh, his courage, his passion for justice. She was in love with Chakotay. And as much as she hated to admit it, she was lonely. She wanted him in her life.
Now it was too late.
She was horrified as hoarse, primal cries issued from her. She sobbed until her chest ached, grateful that this isolated location would at least preserve of modicum of her dignity.
She didn't know how long she'd been there, quivering in a frozen compact ball, when she became aware of the presence of another.
She didn't have the energy to worry about it. She would ignore them and eventually they'd go away. She pulled her knees tighter towards her, burying her tear-stained cheeks. She prayed it wasn't Osa or God forbid, the outspoken Eleni.
Raising her head slightly, she noticed the form was approaching her.
Yet whoever it was, they didn't say a word. As the distance between them closed, she could tell from the broad shoulders that it was a man. As he stepped closer, she recognized his scent. Then she felt the comforting weight of his jacket being placed around her shoulders. She clutched the fabric tightly, eager for warmth.
Humiliated, she kept her face against her knees as he straddled behind her to perch on the rock. He sat close enough that she could sense the heat emanating from his body. If she loosened her tightly coiled stance, if she just leaned back an inch or two, they'd be touching. Their bodies would be touching.
That sounded very appealing.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned back against his solid frame. He didn't say a word. He cautiously wrapped his arms around her midriff, drawing her closer, attempting to transfer some warmth to her shivering body. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck.
She felt so exposed. So vulnerable. So stupid.
But why was he here?
The Langolian girl had been in his room.
Why was he here?
To her irritation, he didn't say a word. Clearly, he intended for her to initiate this conversation. He'd expressed his interest in her years ago. Now the ball was fully in her court.
And knowing Chakotay's patience, he could wait all night.
"She seems nice."
Her face burned. She was horrified that came out of her mouth. And that she sounded so pitiful. Her voice was hoarse and raspy. What was she, some jealous 16-year-old?
"She is. But she's not you."
The dreadful tightness in her chest started to ease. She finally felt she could breathe more deeply.
Chakotay explained, haltingly. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to think. I just wanted to be with someone."
She hated that she'd caused him such confusion and pain. She was afraid to ask what the two of them had done together.
"I saw you with those women tonight. Looking so miserable and vulnerable. I tried to pay attention to Haley, I wanted to. But I couldn't focus. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I had to find you."
She was touched that he cared, despite everything that had passed between them. Maybe there was still hope.
Could she do this? Could she sustain a romantic relationship and maintain her ship and the respect of her crew?
Her brain was too tired for further debate. She needed to commit to this course of action before she could rationalize her way out of it. She turned towards him. Putting a hand on his cheek, she pulled him down towards her. He eagerly met her half-way. Their mouths met and they kissed deeply, longingly.
When they parted, he said, "Are you sure?" He understood the significance of her actions and frankly he couldn't handle any more reversals.
"Yes. I love you. I want to be with you." She wished she could see his expression better.
"Good. We'll figure it out." He kissed her lips again, more gently this time. Then he said, "Kathryn, you're freezing. Let's get you back to my room to warm up."
She stumbled as he helped her to her feet. Her fingers and toes were so cold that they were starting to lose sensation. He put a protective arm about her, drawing her beneath his shoulder. Between Chakotay's bulk and his jacket, she was starting to feel less like an icicle.
Once they reached his room, Janeway sat on his bed. He removed her boots and then covered her with a heavy blanket. Then he disappeared for a few minutes. She felt painful pins and needles in her hands and feet as the circulation to her extremities was restored.
Chakotay reappeared with a mug of hot tea. He insisted she drink the entire contents of the mug before speaking. The honey in the tea along with the scorching hot liquid felt soothing on her ragged throat. Once she finished, he joined her on the bed, stretching out beside her, pulling the blanket over the two of them. She leaned into the warmth of his body, sensing his heart beating in his chest as she rested her head against him. He started when she placed her icy fingers beneath his shirt.
He brushed his lips against her forehead.
"What's wrong Kathryn?"
"I'm so sorry. I got scared. I never meant to hurt you."
"I know. But there's more to this than you and me, isn't there?"
"Maybe." She nuzzled in closer, finally feeling warm and safe with his arms about her. "I just can't sleep."
Tenderly, he pushed back a tendril of her hair from her face. "Any dreams?"
She looked towards him. "What does that matter?" She yawned, starting to feel sleepy.
"Dreams convey the longing of our souls."
From her silence, he correctly deduced the nature of some of her dreams. "You know, sex dreams are also about the desire for intimacy as well as the actual act, right?"
Damn him. But he was right. She'd been feeling emotionally isolated for far too long. She described the oppressive dark dream to him as best she could.
"What are you looking for?"
"I don't know. It feels terribly important."
"This dream also reveals your feelings of being isolated. I'm curious, when you hear the cry, what does it sound like?"
The she realized. "A child."
"Kathryn." His voice was filled with compassion.
Damn it, why did he figure it out before her.
"You seemed upset about celebrating your birthday. Was it one of those significant years?"
She nodded. But not for the obvious reasons. She was never one to obsess about her appearance or the numerical value of her age. But certain numbers had more significance. Certain expectations. Certain benchmarks. Some of which she hadn't even realized were on the list.
By the time I'm thirty, I'll be a Captain. By the time, I'm thirty-five, I'll be married. Before I'm forty, I'll have…
Children had never been on her radar. Not that she didn't like them. She was fully committed to being a Star Fleet captain and the two didn't mesh.
Then she realized another factor, along with her relationship with Chakotay, that might have contributed to her downward spiral.
"Several weeks ago, I skipped a period. Not a huge deal. Probably just stress related. Not that that really means anything other than I'm getting older."
"That's why you didn't want the crew to throw you a birthday party."
"I'm not that woman." She protested.
"I know." He assured her.
"I'm not afraid of getting older. But my body is telling me that a door may be closing sooner than I thought. One I didn't realize I had any interest in."
"One you're not ready to close."
She nodded. Her eyelids were feeling so heavy, and it was so wonderful to be warm again.
"How do you feel about that?"
"I don't know. I don't know how to do any of this." There was so much more that she wanted to say but she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.
"We'll figure it out. Go to sleep, Kathryn." He kissed her forehead.
She tensed. "No. I don't want to go back there."
"I know. I'm here. I'll keep you safe. Promise."
THE END
