Disclaimer: Put simply, Voyager isn't mine. But it should be…
Coexistence
"So," Janeway asked, ensconced on a corner of the sofa in her living room. Or, as she reflected, their living room. After all, the Commander practically lived there. "Have you finalized the 'Who's Who' of Voyager?"
Generally, Janeway travelled light. Her quarters were functional, orderly and she could lay her hands on any item within half a minute, a requirement instilled into her since her Academy days. The drills that occurred during the night when she was catching a rare hour's sleep were a nightmare. As she struggled into wakefulness, she would be tripping over PADDs that she had dispensed with distractedly, trapped in the panic driven rush to attempt to complete assignments that any cadet would swear reproduced when no one was watching.
An urban myth that survived the decades was of the nefarious lecturer who, seeking revenge on cadets out of a sense of ill treatment, crept into the dorms in the dark of night and added to the insistent piles of assignments that pleaded for completion. It was the worst horror one could possibly inflict on a cadet. And as a captain, Janeway could not honestly say the situation had altered overmuch. With regard to the incessant reports, that was. Her quarters, however, had acquired a change of decor.
"I'm sorry, you wanted me to do that as well?" the person responsible said innocently. Chakotay turned in mock dismay, as though about to exit the room.
"You simply must try to keep up, Commander. Slacking off does not behove a man in your position."
Dropping his playful charade, Chakotay dropped onto his favourite chair. "I've finalized the 'Who's Where' at any rate. Will that appease you?"
"For someone who must juggle the obligation of assigning people departments best suited not only to ability, but to temperament and the capacity to 'play nice', as you so eloquently put it once?" Janeway asked. "I believe that will do. In reward, I would offer you a coffee, but as you do not appreciate the beverage of my heart, you shall do without."
"All this affection is going to my head," he muttered dryly. "So good of you to think of my preferences."
"It's the thought that counts, after all," she agreed.
Commander Chakotay possessed a many faceted personality. She had not given much thought to him, beyond the fact that he was a terrorist, or as some preferred, 'freedom fighter', and either way, her orders were to apprehend him. But as she grew to know the man who now served as her second in command, that tunnel-visioned perception of him changed.
Janeway had known he was Native American, even vaguely that he had been brought up according to traditional beliefs. To a child of the twenty fourth century, as she admitted to being freely and without shame, that meant something along the lines of more forestry, less urban surroundings, wild animals roaming nearby and limited access to a replicator. In practice, it was perhaps best personified in a small device in a bundle, named an akoonah. Chakotay did not elaborate beyond the fact that it was of spiritual significance and perhaps could allow him to communicate with- spirits.
"I see," she had replied, seeing nothing of the kind but curious all the same. Sensing this, he offered to show her at a time when their schedules were less hectic and she had accepted.
Though they had yet not found the time, they had certainly spent enough late nights working on restoring shipboard matters to relatively normal, and some essence of Chakotay had entwined with the atmosphere. It could have something to do with the sand painting on the wall she believed he had done himself. Janeway could admire his proficiency in the area, but she could not interpret the symbolic meaning of the design if Voyager's future depended on it. Perhaps something else that could go towards clarifying the change in ambience was the incense in the air. Subtle… omnipresent… but not unpleasant, Janeway decided. She also noticed the plant in the corner with an air of mild surprise.
"It was withering from the lack of care in my quarters," Chakotay explained, the odd detour from their conversation leaving smirks on both their faces. "I find it easier to remember its existence in here."
"Commendable. Your concern for this plant does the crew proud," Janeway said. "We could all stand to benefit from your inspiring example."
Chakotay rolled his eyes. "Not to suggest that you could ever be guilty of hyperbole, but according to my readings, the sarcasm concentration in this room is at disturbing levels."
"Noted," she said loftily, in full Captain mode, before relaxing back into the sofa dramatically. "It clears my mind, sarcasm. Ever so satisfying, and I don't have to ask permission to speak freely."
At this statement, Chakotay chuckled. "I wouldn't have thought so before, but from this new insight into your character, I'm beginning to think you were one hell of a pain at the Academy. I feel sorry for whoever took your classes."
"I was a definite trial," she said agreeably. "A misery to endure, and a reason to pray for divine intervention to achieve a reprieve from me."
"If not for the context, I wouldn't be able to say with confidence whether you were serious or not," Chakotay said.
"Why thank you…I work so hard to cultivate the air of solemnity while reeling off reams of nonsense." Janeway stood abruptly and headed for the replicator, ordering a coffee and, after receiving a shake of the head from Chakotay when she looked at him enquiringly, returned to her seat. "Now I think I can handle anything. So, Commander, have you dealt with any substantial issues yet? In your professional capacity or otherwise?"
"Nothing so dramatic as you're implying," Chakotay moved with the change in topic with ease, familiar with his Captain's working methods by now. "Thank the Spirits that Voyager is such a large ship… for our purposes anyhow. It makes reassigning quarters less of a hassle."
"Oh?"
He shrugged. "Apparently they're starting a Voyager orchestra…it gets noisy during practice, I gather. Disagreements result, but as I said, nothing dramatic."
"These are teething pains," Janeway pronounced in satisfaction. "Complaining about the music being on too loud is a far cry from plotting murder in their beds."
"I suppose it's rather like a large family, complete with sibling rivalry?" Chakotay suggested.
"As long as they can quibble over minor issues without resorting to violence, I'm happy. And I suppose that is a rather apt analogy," she laughed at the image the comparison evoked. "Perhaps I should be expecting silly pranks on each other. Reprogrammed replicators to deliver treats of the slimy kind and the like."
"We'll have this relative peace for a while," Chakotay said in a wise tone. "For now, it's mainly meaningless squabbles. When they begin playing tricks on one another, it'll be affection expressed in the more palatable form of mischief. And all hell will break loose."
She sighed, all of a sudden more melancholy. "Do you think perhaps we're being a little too optimistic? So far, the cease fire on the hostilities is only because they don't even acknowledge each other's existence, let alone interact in a social environment."
"Wait til Paris gets the all clear from the EMH," Chakotay said. "He'll unite them against him, most likely."
"It'll be the most use he's been to us so far. And what doesn't break him will only make him stronger," Janeway said, affecting a world-weary pose.
"Paris? Or the EMH?" he laughed. "I dropped by Sickbay today- apparently Paris has been harassing the good Doctor. There was the scent of bloodlust in the air when I arrived. From what I observed, he's doing his damn best to break the Doctor."
"Oh, I hope it doesn't come to that," Janeway said, raising an eyebrow. "The only doctor we have on board is not expendable. I'd hate for him to have to counsel himself for job related trauma."
"That would be a first; a computer program having a breakdown!"
"It doesn't sound too pretty," she wrinkled her nose delicately. "Do we have anyone training as a medic?"
"Well, I'd thought about that," Chakotay said sighing. "After all, there were two or three on the original med. staff complement, I believe. But only one cremember could handle that hologram full time. I had to switch a few people out, who claimed they'd go insane if they were trapped with the Doctor day in and day out."
"Sounds like our Doctor needs a personality transplant," Janeway said, listening interestedly. "I thought it was just me."
"Causing anxiety for the CMO, Captain?"
She smiled wickedly. "It seems to be an ingrained trait of mine. For some obscure reason, he needed to update my medical records. I was not pleased."
"Ah," he observed. "Shall we leave it at that, then?"
"So intuitive. I'm gratified my Exec. is such a fine officer."
"Flattery will get you everywhere," he grinned at her.
"Anyway, Tom was not cognizant at that point, so I was not shy to express my disapproval. Otherwise I would have had to curtail my objections in order to set an example of propriety as the model captain."
"How very fortunate for you. About Paris, that is. He seems to be trying to make up for the lack of irritating presence we've all enjoyed the past few days."
Janeway shook her hand in an exaggeratedly understanding manner. "It tears you up inside, seeing him injured on your behalf, doesn't it? And to preserve your image, you resort to sarcasm and false hostility to cover the soft heart that lurks within that brooding exterior. Typical male behaviour."
"Moonlighting as a psycho-analyst, Captain?" he asked dryly.
She looked innocent. "It was just an observation, Commander," mischievously, she pretended to record, "memo to self: subject displayed defensiveness when queried…" she trailed off at his narrowed. "Very well, I trust you two grown men can resolve your issues on your own."
"How kind of you to think so. And not to forestall any other back handed compliments, but speaking of Sickbay, I received a request from our guest. Terekelivia," he pronounced the name carefully, "has asked to stay on board."
"I see," Janeway thought of the woman who shared patient status with Tom Paris.
When they had gone to investigate odd emissions, leading them to the Ocampan world, they encountered a couple operating a trade freighter; Kes, an Ocampa herself, and Neelix, a Talaxian. An amicable trade agreement had been set up, following Voyager and the Liberty defending the two from an attack from a species known as the Kazon, who Janeway understood were the hardened thugs of the sector.
Given the fact that they were traders, Neelix, in particular, was able to provide them with data that was of great use to a ship in Voyager's circumstances, stranded in an unknown quadrant with no idea of whether an alien race may prove to be hostile or receptive to alien visitors, where dangerous anomalies may lie and similar difficulties. In addition to providing them with star charts of the known sectors that lay nearby, their new acquaintances had also trade food supplies, which would help cut down on energy use.
Voyager had been asked to care for a friend of theirs who had been injured in circumstances that Neelix and Kes were reluctant to describe. Janeway gathered that the Kazon had forced Kes, at least, judging from the bruising around her face, and this other woman into slavery, and that the latter had been injured in a revolt against their captors. Later, when the three had beamed over and Kes and Terekelivia had been escorted to Sickbay, Kes had confirmed the Captain's theory.
In any case, Terekelivia had been left in Voyager's care as the other two departed. Janeway had thought it a little odd, but concluded that no lasting commitments had been formed and had not worried over it.
So now the woman wanted to stay on board. She found that interesting.
"She has offered to fill a position as a guide, being a native of this quadrant, as well as volunteering her culinary skills in our service."
"All that?" Janeway said blandly. "No doubt she will be able to provide some assistance to us. As an ambassador, perhaps. It would be useful to have someone in an advisory capacity…"
"Ease us into this quadrant's politics and power play?"
"I'm not intending to set up as a major power here, Commander," Janeway rebuked him lightly. "I intend to get home within my lifetime, thank you. But so far, events that we have been involved in are far from encouraging. No doubt the Kazon will bad mouth us, for getting involved when they tried to attack Kes and Neelix. It would be worthwhile to have a neutral representative, as such. Thoughts, Commander? Queries? Doubts?"
"I concur with your assessment, Captain," he assured her loftily.
"Excellent. I will have a chat with the young woman myself…what's the hour?"
"Probably not the time to be paying social calls. It's around twenty-two hundred."
She yawned, and stretched. "Where does the time go? There's so much more to do. No one ever warned me when I was a cadet."
"Murphy's law- 'everything is harder than you expect'."
"Yes," she agreed wryly. "And it's right up there next to 'everything that can go wrong, will, and at the worst possible moment."
"Sad but true," Chakotay said. "We must be in the low ebb at the moment. The status quo has remained steady for the past few days."
"Knock on wood," a mischievous light shone in her eyes. "Not that I'm the superstitious type. But let's not rock the boat just yet, all right, Commander?"
"As you command, Captain."
A smile tipped the corner of her mouth. "That's what I like to hear," with a groan, she swung her legs off the sofa and rose to her feet. "Anyway, I believe I hear a stack of reports beseeching my company," blowing a strand of hair out of her face, she asked with a comical expression of dismay, "Do you think anyone would notice if I simply recycled them?"
"I'm afraid so. And keep in mind, it was at your insistence that this ship is run strictly according to Starfleet protocols," Chakotay reminded her. "Just think, in the Maquis we never bothered with reports."
"That's your only flaw," she stared at him broodingly. "You're not nearly subservient enough. Too pleased with your own cleverness. Much too eager to point out errors."
"Well, it's not as though there's too much room for advancement on this ship," he pointed out, standing as well. "Why bother being the 'yes-man'?"
"Because there's a lot of room for demotions," Janeway said darkly.
"I would be wounded," he tossed over his shoulder as he headed for the connecting door between their quarters. "But I know you don't mean that."
"Right, you're much too valuable," she told him seriously.
He turned and looked at her questioningly. "But?" he invited, grinning.
"But-" she drew out the word. "There's always room for torture…"
He let himself out as the two of them laughed.